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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

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twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)

HOUR TWENTY FOUR

in which you and eddie win the bet.

→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn

→ warnings: strong language, upside down does not exist, minors dni

→ wc: 7k+

→ a/n: oh, holy fuck. holy fucking shit. i have no words, because i know it's not really over yet (we still have an epilogue, friends! don't forget that!) but... i did it. i finished another fic. that's just... insane?

thank you to everyone who has been so very kind and supportive of this fic. i owe you all the world. i'm sure i'll either make a sappy post between now and thursday, or i'll get extra sappy in the a/n on the epilogue, but for now - please know you have all my love. <3

masterlist.

spotify playlist.

◁ previous part, next part▷

24:00 ─────────────── ㅇ 24:00

DINGUS: hey, i facetimed them for last hour’s proof. had to work out when they wanted me to head over and pick her up.

BIRDIE: both still alive? both still well?

DINGUS: so it seemed.

ARGYLE 😎: what a relief! I knew they had it in them

JOHNNY BOY: They still have to last one more hour.

NANCE: They’ll last the hour. Have a little faith, babe.

JOHNNY BOY: Still don’t like the fact we’ve just started calling them instead of requesting the photo proof. I mean, how do we not know they’re lying? Did you talk to both of them when YOU called, Nance?

NANCE: Yes, I told you guys that.

NANCE: Besides, you guys already know that Eddie hates having his picture taken. We’re lucky we ever got picture proof to begin with.

DINGUS: also i JUST facetimed them??? physically saw them?? your lack of trust in me and nance kind of hurts jon

BIRDIE: @NANCE hey can you call ME babe next?

HOUR TWENTY FOUR – 4:00 PM

“Hey there, love birds. Glad to see you didn’t kill each other.”

Steve.

You wait for Eddie’s arm to leave you, for him to put space between the two of you, but he doesn’t. He keeps you pressed flush to his side as if the sudden arrival of a friend doesn’t make the slightest bit of difference.

“Hey, Harrington,” he even casually greets first.

He’s making no move to get up off the floor.

Just a little bit longer. Let me sit here and live in this moment a little bit longer.

“Munson,” Steve nods to Eddie before setting his sights on you, “Doll. Nice to see you, kind of glad I’m not having to fish you out of the canals.”

You feel it — Eddie’s arm tenses behind you ever so slightly at Steve’s nickname. Clearly, it’s still a sore spot for him to work through.

“I was feeling generous,” Eddie shrugs as if he hadn’t just revealed a flash of jealousy to you. You’re not even sure if he knows that you felt it. But it was there, in the slightest tightening of his grip and the flexing of his bicep behind your shoulder.

“Generous? I think you were feeling friendly,” Steve waves his hand between the two of you, as if he thought he was pointing out the obvious.

If he thought this was close, he’d faint at the imagery of you on the kitchen counter, Eddie’s face between your legs as he begged for you to let him touch you.

Just as you had noticed Eddie’s jealousy, he notices the way you suddenly heat up, shifting in your seat ever so slightly. That pull on the corner of his lips tells you all you need to know. You kind of hate how easily the two of you can finally read each other. You kind of love the way he’s looking at you as if he’s thinking the exact same thing.

“Do I get my free punch now?” you finally speak up, tone flat as you muster a glare in Steve’s direction. You’re forgoing all polite and pretend oblivion.

Every single one of you here knows what happened. The bare bones of it, at least.

Eddie looks at you curiously, “Excuse me?”

Steve only grins, holding out his arms as if welcoming you, “Take your best shot.”

You stand quickly, and Steve even flinches. He clearly had thought it was all a bit, but you were deathly serious. After the night you’d had, you wanted to punch something, anything.

“Hold on,” Eddie fumbles to follow you as you stand in front of Steve, your eyebrow cocked as you pause, “Hold on, why are you punching Harrington?”

“Oh, I don’t know. ‘She’d never go for me, why would she go for you?’” you remind him, and fully expect for hurt to flash across his face. Instead, merriment continues to tug on his lips, “That ring a bell?”

“It might,” Eddie drawls, slowing down his movement to stand more casually, no longer in a rush to break up the fight. His eyes flash with something, with some sort of affection as your hand curls into a fist threateningly and you continue to glare daggers at Steve, “‘S cute to see you defending my honor, sweetheart.”

Your knees almost physically wobble. The nickname that once struck such anger and irritation in you has become your favorite thing, something that can so easily elicit such a physical reaction. Any taunting has dissipated from his tone when he falls from his tongue now. Adoration takes its place.

Steve looks between you two for a second before his face twists up, “God, I think I liked it better when you two hated each other.”

“Never really hated each other,” Eddie corrects Steve, but his eyes never leave yours.

“Right, must have slipped my mind.”

One of the questions that had been torturing you has now been answered — Eddie would, in fact, be acting differently around your friends. It’s almost enough that you feel no need to punch Steve.

Almost.

“Where do you want it?” you tear your gaze from Eddie, looking back to Steve now expectantly, “Cheek? Nose? Chin? Jaw?”

Steve’s eyes widen. “My God, have you just been dreaming of this moment for the last hour?”

“I have.”

Eddie leans back against the wall, still watching and still smirking as he crosses his arms.

“I know Eddie’s your boyfriend now but-“

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct him quickly, but something inside of you twists at saying that.

He wasn’t your boyfriend. You two had just agreed you’d need time apart before even thinking of exploring what this new chapter will bring you two. So why does it feel so wrong? Why do you suddenly feel like a pathetic teenager, desperate to bestow some cheesy title upon her crush?

Eddie nods when you suddenly look at him, as if he can read your mind, “I’m not her boyfriend. Just… her scary dog.”

Scary dog privilege. And God, does that moment feel light years in the past now. Years ago rather than hours ago. His promise to protect you suddenly rings truer now. If you ever did find yourself in trouble, you knew he’d answer your call. You knew now why his protection only extended to you. You finally, finally understood.

“Scary dog?” Steve squints at Eddie, and his judgmental demeanor has fully returned, “What the fuck does that even mea-“

He doesn’t get to finish the sardonic sentiment. The slap of your palm interrupts him.

“Ow!” he yelps out, head snapping from the force of the hit and hands already coming up defensively.

Eddie pushes off the wall the moment Steve’s hands are up in the air, “Lay a hand on her in retaliation, Harrington, and I’m breaking your arm.”

All the joking, cocky demeanor has faded. Like he had said — scary dog privilege. It applies to more than just pricks at the bar.

“I’m not,” Steve grumbles, rubbing at the red imprint now singing his cheek, “Jesus Christ, I said a punch.”

You fight a smile, “I don’t know how to throw a punch.”

“I can teach you,” Eddie pipes up, now standing beside you, hovering in your orbit.

“Don’t-“ Steve puts out a warning finger, “-encourage her. I only said you could punch me because I knew you couldn’t throw a punch!” he continues to cradle his face, now pouting at you, “Do you feel better now?”��

You only answer with a triumphant smile. Because your palm is stinging, and you know violence isn’t the answer, but yeah. You do feel a little bit better.

“I don’t,” Eddie hums. He only has to take one step forward for Steve to back up, throwing out defensive eyes as he narrows his eyes, “Think I deserve to get a slap in, too, Stevie.”

“Fuck that,” Steve spits, eyes wide with genuine fear that makes you want to giggle, “You do know how to throw a punch. If I’m letting you get a free one in, I deserve twenty four hours notice.”

“Then consider this your notice.”

Is this what I had always been missing out on?

You always knew Eddie was playful with everyone, had witnessed how he joked with friends, but you’d never been included. The thought that this was the new normal makes your heart nearly burst. To be on Eddie’s side finally, to be in his good graces properly, makes you feel as if you belong more than any private movie night with Steve or impromptu dinner date with Robin. More than any night out with Nancy. More than any smoke session with Argyle, and more than any literature debate with Jonathan.

It’s as if Eddie was the missing link. You never felt you belonged, because you’d always ached for your rightful spot at his side, not just amongst the group.

The three of you stand in a makeshift circle and every single one of you smiles. Even Steve, through his slipping pout and swollen cheek, is grinning.

Suddenly, it’s not quite as heavy as it once felt.

Everything has changed. Leaving now is not leaving forever.

“I’d pay to see that,” you comment, taking a daring step to bump shoulders with Eddie. His eyes meet yours, his dimples come to life, and suddenly — you’re home, “Think I can get a front row seat to you beating Steve’s ass?”

Steve starts to protest but Eddie only nods eagerly, “I think that can be arranged.”

“I am once again reminding you two that I liked your screaming matches more than whatever this,” his hand flails, motioning to the way you two are standing closer to one another than you are him, “whole teaming-up-against-me bit is.”

“We’re not dating,” you’re reiterating as Eddie laughs out, “Stop being a crybaby.”

You look at one another again. Another foot in the door of your newfound home, another look into your new place to rest your head. It’s as if you’re just now realizing you’ve spent the entire year missing Eddie, even as he was right there in front of you.

“Well, God save us all when you two are finally dating,” Steve mumbles with a shake of his head.

“If-“ Eddie starts to correct, but you stop him.

It’s not an if when it comes to you two dating, you decide. It’s a when.

“I’ll send a gift basket when the day comes,” you snark. The look that Eddie sends you could heal every wound ever left behind, right then and there.

You’re home. When Eddie throws his arm around your shoulders and Steve rolls his eyes at you two (affectionately, even if he’d deny it), you know you’re home.

—

But then, you actually do have to go home.

You try to put it off. The three of you occupy Eddie’s living room for a while, Steve complaining about the way Robin woke him up endlessly throughout the night and how he never did finish that assignment due in his English Literature class. It reminds you that life will continue on; you have to go back to work and school, deal with daily annoyances that should seem bigger than all that’s happened with Eddie tonight, but they don’t. They all seem minuscule now, really.

“Do we still have to send photo proof?” Eddie asks once Steve’s tirade has waned. You’re sat between the two boys, Steve’s body turned almost completely to face the two of you while you and Eddie slowly sink back into the cushions.

You’re sure if Steve knew the activities that had taken place on this couch, he would not be sitting so comfortably. If at all.

Steve sighs at the mention of the bet, “You probably should. Jonathan’s been antsy about it the entire time. Me and Nance tried to cover for you guys, lying about calling and stuff but-“

“Why would you lie?” you inquire, uncurling a bit from your overly comfortable position to stop from falling asleep and actually participate in the conversation.

“Because, unlike the other idiots,” Steve gives a pointed look at you and then Eddie, “We had a hunch about what was going on here. And it’s about time, by the way.”

You think over his words for a second before you look at Eddie with sudden embarrassment, “Have you- Oh my God, have you been telling Nancy what we’ve been doing?”

“What?” Eddie sits up straighter, looking just as panicked, “No. No, absolutely not, I-“

“What have you guys been doing?”

Both of you ignore Steve as Eddie continues on.

“-just spoke to her on the phone once or twice. But I didn’t give her any details. Have you been telling Steve what we did?”

Steve, still being ignored, repeats himself, “What have you guys been doing?”

“Absolutely not,” you scrunch your nose at the thought of being that honest with Steve. You loved him, truly, but not enough to tell him about those kinds of things, “I’d rather sleep in the canals than tell him.”

“What have you guys been doing?”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up, and he mockingly stabs himself, “Ouch, sweetheart.”

“Not like that,” you backtrack, but more casually as the worry of Steve and Nancy knowing the truth, “I just meant-“

Eddie interrupts with a hand on your knee and a smile on his face, “I know what you meant. I’m just fucking with you. I feel the same way with Nance.”

“Guys?” Steve grows further impatient, “I- What the fuck did you guys do? Oh my God, is it even safe to sit on this fucking couch right now?”

“You don’t wanna know,” you say.

“No, it isn’t,” Eddie says.

It earns him a slap on his stomach as he leans over in laughter at the way Steve launches out of his seat.

“You guys- No. No fucking way,” Steve brushes at the back of his jeans, as if they’re contaminated, “Nope. No way. You’re just fucking with me, Munson.”

“Am I?”

Another slap lands on Eddie’s shoulder as he laughs harder.

“Steve,” you turn to your friend, trying to smile sweetly, “Sit back down.”

“No.”

“You just said you don’t believe-“

“We should get going,” Steve insists through his blush, “You two should take your final picture and we should get going.”

Eddie finally stops chuckling, leaning back up and against the armrest, his ankle cross in front of your shins as he stretches his legs out and sighs, “God, you should see your face right now, Harrington.”

Steve’s scowl deepens, “It’s not funny. Take the fucking photo so we can go.”

You make no move to dig out your phone, because you know. You know once you take this photo, you’ll be leaving, and this will all be over. Once you step foot back into that hallway, time apart begins. Learning how to navigate this new unknown with Eddie begins. It terrifies you, it saddens you, it exhausts you. You hadn’t been prepared for this part of the night.

Even before the confessions, you hadn’t given much thought to the ending of the twenty four hours. You’d assumed it would end in bloodshed and a larger than life fight, probably before the clock even ran out. You’d never assumed it could end in laughing, inside jokes between you and Eddie, in something not only bitter but also sweet.

“Phone, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers as he leans forward and holds out his hand with the palm up, “Before we traumatize the poor guy any further.”

“I will wait in the car, I swear to God-“ Steve starts to protest as you finally dig your phone out of your pocket.

You’re looking down, unable to meet Eddie’s gaze in fear of him picking up on your faint sadness, as you mumble, “Get your panties out of their twist, Steve. Jesus.”

Eddie snorts at that, right as you pass your phone over.

Steve doesn’t comment when you willingly tell Eddie the code to unlock your phone, or the way you let him hold it rather than you. He doesn’t comment on the arm that Eddie seems to constantly keep around you now.

He’s doing it while he can. Cherishing being able to hold you at any capacity before you leave and the distance begins. The time apart you two agreed upon won’t be for forever, but it still kills a buried part of him that had just begun to sprout roots again. A thing made of hope that he planned to tend to this time around.

“So, how do we wanna do this?” he asks in a strained tone, as if asking that question and throttling you two closer to the finish line physically pains him.

You hope it pains him, selfishly, because it pains you. “No idea.”

“We’ve gotta make it a good one.”

“We do.”

Eddie suddenly lights up with an idea as his thumb sweeps across your screen, opening your photos’ app and scrolling up to the first picture you two had taken at the beginning of this night.

“Up for a trip down nostalgia road?” he teases, wiggling his brows as he holds the phone up for you to get a clearer view of the picture.

Eddie, flipping off the camera and scowling. You, hardly smiling with a pathetic thumbs up.

“Yeah,” you breathe out, nodding slowly.

It’s unspoken, what happens next. The camera app is opened and Eddie returns your phone to your grasp. The two of you resituate to mimic the photo as closely as possible while Steve fiddles with some of the items on Eddie’s entertainment center.

You stretch out your arm, put your thumb up into view, blink away any tears burning the back of your eyes. Eddie’s hand has taken position as well.

You snap the photo before you can think too hard on it.

“Think that’ll be the winner?” Eddie curiously asks as you immediately bring the phone close to your face, swiping to view the snapshot just taken. And when you do, with the refreshed memory of that first photo, your heart physically aches.

Almost an identical image. At a quick glance, it’s the same Eddie and the same you from the first one. But the similarities fade the moment you look closer. Eddie isn’t scowling, not genuinely – those damn dimples are even making an appearance as his eyes were squinted up in a valiant effort to fight off the smile he wears now. And your smile, your smile, is no longer half-assed. It’s something real, something full, something even a bit sad. The same face you wear when saying goodbye to an old friend and trying to hold back any tears until their train has long since left the station. You can almost physically see your vines in this photo wrapping around the two of you, clinging so desperately to avoid any separation. Time apart. You’re regretting suggesting that now.

It’s a cute photo. A photo of two friends, if you could call yourself and Eddie that now.

“All done?” Steve interrupts the moment, both of you and Eddie only staring at the photo. You take a peak at him out of your peripherals, and you can see it written plainly on his face – he’s feeling all the same emotions as you. Something sad, something nostalgic, something reluctant. “Not to rush the process but… I may or may not have a hot date tonight to get ready for.”

Eddie tears his gaze from the photo, “A hot date?”

“A hot date,” Steve nods, a boyish grin gracing his lips, “And I’m picking her up in… t-minus…” he pauses, checking his watch, “Three hours.”

“Smart move. Charm her before I rearrange your face and all.”

Steve throws his head back in a groan, “You two won’t be letting that go any time soon, will you?”

“Nope,” you chime in as you swipe to open up the groupchat, not offering Steve a single glance until you’ve sent off the final addition of photo proof to the rest of your friends. You consider adding some sort of sarcastic comment, some well earned bragging and a boisterous told you so, but you don’t.

It doesn’t feel like you’ve won. Leaving this apartment, this battleground, with all the new bruises and healed wounds you’ve acquired over the span of the twenty four hours doesn’t taste like victory. Really, it tastes like… nothing.

There’s no victory, no solid ending for you to cling to. It’s simply ending and there’s still thousands of words you have to say to Eddie. You need more time, another twenty four hours, to fill with every single thing you never told him. More casual confessions of honesty, more hours wasted in his bed, more insignificant bickering to partake in. It’s all on your tongue and desperate for attention, and yet, you know you can’t succumb to it.

You have to go. It’s the last thing you want to do, but you have to.

Steve checks his phone when it buzzes with the notification of your message you sent and opens his mouth, no doubt about to comment on your lack of words with the message, but you’re already standing. It’s like ripping off a bandaid. You need to get it over with, get out of this apartment before you decide you’d rather sink right into these couch cushions and decay just to ensure you never have to really leave.

Eddie’s quick to follow.

“Let’s go,” you say to Steve, grabbing up your bag, not looking at Eddie at the risk of losing all composure.

Neither boy fights you, following you right up to the front door. Steve leads, opening it back up as reality slams you in the chest. As if there’s an invisible barrier here, and you know that in crossing it, you’ll be leaving a piece of yourself behind in apartment 2C.

Leaving now is not leaving forever.

But it sure does feel like it.

Steve awkwardly looks over your shoulder at Eddie, some silent communication you only see his half of as he shrugs and does a timid wave, turning to leave.

One foot hangs midair, your toes beginning to push through that barrier, when Eddie grabs you.

“Hey,” he breathes as he wraps his fingers around your bicep, forcing you to turn to face him. You let him, your body moving to his accord but your eyes still not meeting his, “You good?”

You take a deep breath in through your nose, “Me? Yeah. Yeah, I’m great. I’m… I’m good.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive?”

“Will you look at me, then?”

Reluctantly, so very reluctantly, your eyes meet his. Big, brown doe eyes. This close to them, you can see the way they shine to match yours. You both probably look insane to Steve right now, but you don’t care. Between the sleep deprivation and all the emotions you’ve had to experience over the last day, the tears are well earned.

You almost reach out and kiss him. You almost press up onto your toes and put your lips on his, almost pour every emotion you’re feeling in the moment into a far from innocent peck.

But you don’t.

“We did it,” you croak blandly, “We won the bet.”

As if the Universe is screaming in agreement, you can hear a chime in the distance signifying the hour. Probably the church you recall passing in the middle of the night when the two of you had ventured off to the parking garage. It almost feels as if it’s mocking you.

“We did it,” he echoes as his grip on your bicep loosens. You expect him to let it fall back to his side, nearly begging out loud for him to retract his touch from you so you don’t do something stupid like stay.

You swallow down thick emotions, just like molasses, “I guess I’ll see you around, yeah?”

Time. You two needed time apart.

“Yeah,” he sighs, as he does the one thing you had somehow hoped he wouldn’t yet yearned for ardently – the hand that had wrapped around your arm now cups your cheek, thumb stroking your skin so softly, you nearly melt in his doorway, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

It doesn’t taste like victory, yet it doesn’t taste quite like loss. It’s bittersweet.

You still don’t kiss him. And he doesn’t kiss you, even as his touch against your cheek lingers so heavily before he pulls away.

You cross the barrier and find you were right. You feel that piece of you tear off and flutter to the ground, and you begin to wonder when you’ll have the chance to come back and reclaim not just it, but Eddie.

—

Steve didn’t speak much on the drive back to your dorm, and you’re sort of grateful.

If you were a good friend, you’d ask more about his date. You’d get him giddy as he spills the details about this girl and his plans for the night, chastise and tease him all in good fun. You’d be smiling and making plans for coffee tomorrow morning so he could tell you all about how the date went.

But you’re not a good friend.

You sit in your silence the entire drive, and you pick at your nails, and you selfishly stay focused on Eddie. On all of your own qualms and all your own issues, worrying about what comes next and already feeling your chest tighten the moment you start to think about when see you around will come.

The two of you never discussed that, did you? There was no discussion of just how much time was needed apart.

Steve shifts the car into park in the west lot, right outside your building, “Alright, stop making your cuticles bleed for two seconds and tell me what’s wrong.”

Your hands pause exactly as he requests, caught red-handed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

“Something’s obviously wrong. I told you to go get him – and yet, he’s still not your boyfriend.”

“It’s complicated,” your voice finally breaks. There’s no tears this time, just confusion and desperation clawing at your throat.

Because, was it complicated? Was it really?

The last year was what had been complicated. All the pretending and the fights and the tension. All the false beliefs and all the lies overlapping with one another. That was complicated. But this? The feelings you harbored and finally acknowledged for the boy you just left behind?

That wasn’t really complicated.

And Steve knows this, you can hear it in his sigh, “I think that’s the issue.”

“What?” you turn your head towards him, scrunch your brows, even your breathing and try to shoo away the image of Eddie’s wet eyes.

You wish you would have kissed him.

“Look, i just think you two keep making things complicated when they should be simple-”

You didn’t want to hear it. Childish as it might be, you do not want to have to hear this speech. Because you know Steve’s right.

“I’ll see you later, Steve.”

“Wait-”

You don’t wait. You slam the door in his face once you’ve got your footing outside of his car, truly earning your title of bad friend.

Awful. You weren’t just a bad friend, you were an awful friend.

And yet you can’t think on it, leaving it be until you had the time to properly dwell on how you’d apologize later. All you care about now is getting inside your dorm, moping and being miserable on your own. Your strides are longer and faster than they were even when you’d backtracked to Eddie’s apartment, determined to get behind closed doors and to properly mourn all that had been gained and all that had been lost in the last twenty four hours.

Twenty four hours ago, you were reluctant to even step foot in Eddie’s apartment. And now, it’s the only place you really want to be.

Luck refuses to be on your side as you slam into your dorm room, sweaty and tired and just fucking emotional, only to find your roommate there. There will be no dramatic crying, no cinematic scene with your back pressed to the door as you fight back sobs, it seems.

“You look rough,” is all she notes, sparing you a second glance before she returns to whatever she was tasking on at her desk. Her makeup, you think.

Good. Maybe she’ll be heading out, leaving you to suffer alone like you wanted.

“Yeah,” is all you can answer her as the door clicks shut behind you.

Rough’s a good way to put it.

“Think you’ll be here tonight?” she asks, still distracted, “Troy and I are hanging out today – he spent the night here last night, by the way – and if you’re gone again, I was thinking about inviting him back over. Only if you’re cool with it, or already have plans, though. Our RA has this final and I didn’t even have to sneak him in last night-”

She continues on her rambles, never looking your way as you drop your bag onto your bed, and quickly lift yourself to lay right next to it.

Normal. You were having to go back to fucking normal. Your worries were no longer revolving around Eddie or making it through the next hour, no longer preoccupied with keeping your friends up to date in order to ensure a payout of five hundred dollars – now, you just had to worry about boys named Troy and possible room checks by your RA. Finals to be taken, essays to be finished, shifts to be covered at the diner so you’d have enough cash to go out with your friends next weekend.

You should be relieved. But it all just feels impossibly heavy.

Your roommate catches on quickly, and when you only reply to let her know you’ll be here tonight, she stops talking. She focuses on finishing her makeup and gathering her things, hardly even offering you a goodbye as you shift to curl up more comfortably in the center of your mattress.

You should also know better than what you decide to do next. You can’t help it, though, as you tug your phone out of your pocket and unlock it. You don’t listen to the voice inside your head that screams stop as you click on your photos’ app. Ignore the animal inside that whines as you scroll, and you click on the very first photo of you and Eddie.

It’s painful, but you have nothing better to do in your solitude. You don’t linger on the first photo too long, still being fresh in your mind, before quickly swiping along.

The set of matching photos you and Eddie took of one another, black and white socks covering touching toes visible in each one. You nearly laugh at the Darth Vader figurine both of you took turns holding. You nearly cry when you realize you were, in fact, smiling in your photo. A small one, a forced one, but there nonetheless.

The selfie from the bar, your amaretto sour and Eddie’s whiskey & coke lifted towards the camera. The way both of you had tried to look annoyed, over exaggerated and furrowed brows paired with pouting lips. Your thumb swipes subconsciously over the photo for a second too long, and you’re startled when you realized it was a live photo. The moment after the photo was taken, Eddie’s eyes had moved to look at you. And in that live photo, you watched every ounce of annoyance evaporate. Leaving behind something you recognized now. Leaving behind eyes sparkling with a brief glimpse of adoration.

There’s something else you better recognize now in the next photo. The picture you’d taken when Eddie had locked himself into his room, only opening up long enough to insist you took the photo, the one that guaranteed you your money. You had been right – there was a flood of regret on his face. You hadn’t imagined it. But you had also been wrong; he was never looking at your own rotted vines and mourning them; he was looking at his own, tethered and shredded, regretting that he had ever taken an axe to them. You don’t press down to see this live photo. You don’t want to witness that door slamming in your face again.

The two photos taken in his bed. The one in which both your faces are scrunched from the flash, in which you can see the physical wall between you two. And the one in the dark, where you both wear tired smiles, unaware of the night to come.

The photo on the bike, a helmet mostly covering your blushing cheeks, but not Eddie’s.

The photo from the parking garage, meant just for you two.

The photos from Betty’s. You don’t linger on the one of you; you do linger on the one of him.

Each swipe only makes your heart ache more viciously, painful and sharp reminders of the night you had had. You don’t have to press down on another single photo to witness the live outplay of it – each memory is running through your mind in real time as you retrace your steps of the night. Twenty four hours, twenty four steps. With each photo, you watch yourself grow more relaxed, watch smiles come easier without your awareness and finally pinpoint all the care Eddie had been looking at you with the entire time.

You notice the lack of photos from the last few hours. You nearly scorn yourself for it, but there had been no time. There was no time for memories frozen in time amongst all that hard honesty and those sacrilegious revelations.

Except there was one more moment in time frozen for you. You’re quick to exit the photo app finally, leaving behind that picture of Eddie with full cheeks only to open up your text messages.

Your text thread with him. Filled to the brim with bad pastry jokes and underlying need. You remember that urgent want to comfort him, to remind him he was enough. To erase all the hurt and all the old scars caused by a life from before your time with him you still hadn’t become fully privy to.

You’re still rereading the last message, bet you wouldn’t say that to my face, when suddenly a new message appears.

EDDIE: Make it home okay?

Space and time. They are the last things you want, that you need from him right now.

YOU: yep. my roommate just left.

EDDIE: Is your dorm bed as comfortable as you remember?

YOU: like sleeping on a cloud.

You wish you were still in his bed. You wish you were back at the beginning, with him rather than all alone.

EDDIE: Oh shit, you’re trying to sleep? Sorry

EDDIE: I’ll stop bothering you and leave you to it. Sweet dreams.

No, you nearly scream at your phone screen, come back and bother me. Bother me for the rest of my days for all I care.

You’d never sleep another wink if it meant having him. You remember what you told him about starting over, starting fresh. And maybe taking a much needed nap would offer that. Maybe sleeping for more than thirty minutes at a time would be the smart choice, letting you awake with a clearer mind and better intentions.

But you don’t want that. The animal inside still clings to all that has happened.

Something about that makes you brave.

YOU: i never said that, and you’re not bothering me.

EDDIE: Didn’t you say you wanted a nap earlier?

YOU: that was earlier. i’m wide awake now.

An internal battle continues to take place. Your mind whispers liar, knowing damn well that if you put down the phone and turned your cheek to bury into your pillow, you’d be out like a light within seconds.

EDDIE: Ah. I see.

You fiddle with your thumbs for a second, stomach churning as you try to come up with a response to keep the conversation going. Technically, when you had said the two of you needed time apart after all that had happened, it should have meant interactions like this as well. Texting each other was not offering each other space.

But he’d started it. That was on him.

YOU: do you remember what i said about space? and starting over?

EDDIE: I do. I’m not very good with giving you space, it seems.

YOU: well, considering you’re on the other side of town, i’d say we’ve got the physical sense of space down.

There’s a pause in his replies that causes you to sit up. A falter. You curse him for not having a smartphone as well, for not having the privilege of being notified whether he was just taking his time typing or if he had put the phone down. You really hoped it was the former, practically wished upon every star that that was what was happening. You hoped he was glued to his phone as you were yours.

Maybe he still had that photo he’d taken a few hours ago, the one you swore you’d heard him take as you dozed off. Maybe he was still staring at it like you had done with all of your photos.

EDDIE: About that…

You stare at the message, the hidden meaning behind it completely lost on you.

YOU: About what?

EDDIE: I’m not home right now.

Your heart clenches.

YOU: You’re not?

EDDIE: I’m not.

YOU: Eddie, where the hell are you right now?

Your mind reels with all the possible choices. He could be at the bar, at the parking garage, at Nancy’s place. He could be anywhere.

But then he only sends a picture in response, and you know where he is.

You nearly topple into three other students from how you sprint down the hallway. You don’t even grab your key to your dorm room, skipping the elevators and nearly throwing yourself down the few flights of stairs in haste. You don’t care how your lungs cry out, you don’t care how your thighs burn, you don’t care how your shoulder aches from how roughly you slam open that front door of the building. You don’t care about the strange looks you get on your way out. You don’t care about the odd angle you twisted your ankle in on that last step.

The only thing you care about is the boy standing there, helmet off and balanced on the seat of his parked motorcycle that he leans on, arms crossed as his eyes light up at the erratic sight of you.

You don’t even check for any traffic in the parking lot as you make your way to him.

“I’m sorry,” he calls out once you’re close enough to hear him, “I know we said give it time and shit, but you left, and I just-”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence.

When you make it to Eddie, you’re in no business to carry anymore regret with you. This time, you don’t just yearn to kiss him, to wrap your arms around him, to pour out all those emotions you were feeling across tongues.

You do it. You kiss him, uncaring for all the stares of fellow students. He nearly falls backwards into his bike from the force of you colliding against him, but he’s quick to catch himself as his hands find your waist.

“You-” you pull back, gasping a bit to start to scold him before his lips follow and interrupt you, “Fucking-” Push and pull. You retreat, and he follows, “Idiot.”

His hands squeeze around you, tugging you a stumbling step closer so that your chests are flushed against one another.

“I am,” he mumbles against your lip, the tip of his nose grazing over your cheek as he refuses to let anymore distance be put between the two of you, “I am a fucking idiot. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.”

His hands cradle your face and he kisses you this time, reaffirming that he felt everything you had. All those words you hadn’t said, all his own admissions he’d withheld, spill between clashing teeth and eager lips. He takes your breath away, shamelessly, greedily. And you let him. You offer all the air that’s left in your lungs up to him on a silver platter.

When the two of you finally pull apart, eyes opening wide and foreheads pressing tightly to one another, he’s grinning like a fool.

“So, I had a better idea than time apart,” he murmurs, “What if we just… start over?”

“Start over?” you question wearily.

He nods, “Yeah. Just… Just pretend this last year and all our bullshit didn’t happen. Start fresh. Let me not be a massive dick this time.”

His hands drop from your face as he takes a step back, taking you in fully. You want to shy under his gaze, but instead you can only melt. His fondness is a warmth like no other, capturing you by the crown of your head and pouring down over you in waves.

“Okay,” you finally agree, feeling your own cheeks spread and ache in a lovesick smile. Coming home, that’s what this felt like. “Okay, we can start over.”

“Great,” the homecoming warmth only spreads as he straightens up his posture. A very serious look overcomes his face, laced with determination for a brief second until he relaxes it into a friendly smile, doleful eyes meeting yours as every single flower he had ever planted in your chest blooms like a spring morning. He sticks his hand out, nearly making you snort, “Hi, I’m Eddie.”

You can’t help it. His front door is open, a warm glow within welcoming you.

You ignore his hand entirely as you impulsively reach up and interlock your fingers at the nape of his neck, tugging him into you for another kiss.

He pulls back far too soon for your liking, but his hands have also found their spot against the small of your back, “Do you greet all the new strangers you meet like this?”

You roll your eyes, “Shut up.”

He pulls you back in for a chaste peck, and it tastes like home.

“I like you,” you whisper into the limited space between the two of you, “I mean it. I like you so fucking much, Edward Munson.”

He grins, cracking your chest wide open with hope, “The feeling’s mutual.”

taglist: @catherinnn @haylaansmi @gaysludge @paprikaquinn @manda-panda-monium @audhd-dragonaut @blushingquincy @hellkaisersangel @eddieslittlewh0re @ajkamins @prettyboy200 @munsonzzgf @blue-eyed-lion @digwhatudug @madaboutjoe @wickedslashdivine @sweet-villain @somespicystuff @big-ope-vibes @jadequeen88 @sylviin @emma77645 @notbeforelong @lolalanaie @lo-siento-ama @happy-and-alone @micheledawn1975 @aysheashea @moon-huny @munsonswrld @bambipowerblueaddition @averagestudent03 @bakugouswh0r3 @mattefic @mxcheese @bietchz @nativity-in-black @stezzil @vngelis @coley0823 @folklorebau @luvmunson86 @theherothesavior @keene200213 @hargrovesswifee @m-chmcl-rmnc @cherrymedicine13 @iunaelumen777

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#my writing #twenty four hours #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #this feels so surreal to post jesus christ #thank you guys genuinely for all the love #i will be making a sappy post before i post the epilogue on thursday #i just #wow #yeah #i did it #again #i finished a fucking fic

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noellefan101 · 3 months

Text

Nick-Names - Genshin

Characters: Xiao, Scaramouche, Venti, Lyney, Albedo, Kaveh, Thoma, Diluc, Childe, Heizou, Kazuha x GN reader

Warnings: a lot of cheesy and weird nicknames, if you dont like some for a specific char you're welcome to send me your ideas, could be modern au, established relationship

(you can clearly see that i prob put in an OC, so im so sry, but some i just also really head-canon as the "would rather date a loving person than be loving" if you get what i mean)

Summary: both of your pet names for each other, some silly some sweet

Note: you can really tell where i had no ideas for nicknames. and ik i use both 'pet names' and 'nicknames' but im just kinda stupid and didnt care to change stuff when i was already done with it. also i may just have a problem but why does princess sound 10x better than prince, no matter your gender, anyway love youuuu

Xiao

He will always say what is on his mind, and he did the same thing when you brought up using pet names. he wasn't very fond of the idea, and sometimes he still isn't(depending on the situation). but he has gotten used to it more over time, like when you burst open his door and to talk to him while using the most absurd nicknames he´s ever heard of.

Pet names for you: lovely, qinxing, [shorter version of your name](sry people with short names, i fell ya)

Pet names for him: babe, baby, cutie, dove, birdy, my alatus

Scaramouche

Will never admit he likes being called weird things by you, EVER. if he did then he was drunk and he was totally lying. and that counts with calling you stuff as well, he would rather die than admit he doesn't just call you that bc you wanted him to.

Pet names for you: idiot, princess/prince, dear

Pet names for him: smoochi, love

Venti

He was probably the one who suggested the idea at first, like two days/weeks (seconds) into your relationship. i also think he already had at least one nickname for you when you were "just friends", in the crushing phase, and has some for all his other friends as well(prob also his teachers if school au, lul).

Pet names for you: windblume, cecilia, [insert the cheesiest thing you can think of], my love

Pet names for him: venni, my dear, sweetheart, my bard

Lyney

He would be over the moon if you gave him a nickname, and would instantly be looking like a tomato too. would increase its usage by tenfolds if you said you liked one of his nicknames. you cannot stop him even if you somehow got 'Father' involved.

Pet names for you: babe, mon trésor, mon amour, beautiful

Pet names for him: sweetie, amour, lyn

Albedo

He didn't really see a use for it at first, finding it kind of useless. but sooner or later realized how happy you looked when he had somehow slipped up and called you 'love' when he needed your assistance. and later just didn't bother to stop.

Pet names for you: love, my cecelia, my dear

Pet names for him: 'bedo, lovely, (my) genius

Kaveh

He LOVES nick-names, probably made one for everyone in the friend group(yk alhaitham, tighnari n cyno), and would be delighted to make some up for you.

Pet names for you: beloved, lovely

Pet names for him: baby,

Thoma

He really wanted to try using them, yes he calls Ayato and Ayaka my lord and my lady, but its just not the same as calling your lover something sweet. and good luck if you don't like it, he's keeping those names forever.

Pet names for you: babe, sweetheart, baby, sleepyhead, lovely

Pet names for him: babe, love

Diluc

He honestly wasn't a fan at first, he hated it even. but of course, you being you, insisted on using names for him, and encouraged him to at least try to use some for you. so he kinda got into routine with it.

Pet names for you: my love, my dear

Pet names for him: dear, red head, love, my hero

Childe

Of course, he would use nick-names and such, he uses nick-names for the traveler and paimon, so of course he would be using such with you. honestly how could he not, especially when you're looking all cute cuddled up in his hoodie.

Pet names for you: my love, beloved, cupcake

Pet names for him: ginger, ma strong man(only for teasing purposes), hubby

Heizou

He'll almost never call you by your actual name, he didnt even when you two were just friends, only in the most serious of times would he do that. so it was no surprise that when you actually started dating, they could only become sweeter and cheesier as time goes by.

Pet names for you: princess/prince, baby, beautiful, (my) sunshine

Pet names for him: hei, zou-zou, babe

Kazuha

He loves it bc no matter what you call him he'll be happy. and he makes sure you have "some" as well, and i guess he just can't stop coming up with more, and they're always more cheesy than the last. you don't know how he does it, but maybe its just his poetry skills coming through.

Pet names for you: dove, (my) love, sweetheart, sweetie, my dear

Pet names for him: kazu, dear

thank u for reading whatever this thing is(totally not a filler bc i habe been working on that streamer au for too long), luv ya-Masterlist

You are welcome to reblog and like any of my posts, but you CAN NOT translate, copy or hate on anybody for liking my posts

#kazuha x reader #childe x reader #heizou x reader #lyney x reader #xiao x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #diluc x reader #kaveh x reader #thoma x reader #venti x reader #noelle´s maiden #noellefan101 #gn reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact

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withahappyrefrain · 1 month

Note

for those smutty prompts you reblogged ☺️ 29, which also goes pretty well with 7 too 💁🏼‍♀️

They do and they fit Birdie and Roo very well!

Warnings: Bradley's hands, reader has a nickname (no appearance described), smut, mentions of insecurities, did I mention Bradley's hands?

You should've noticed it earlier. Any other time when you weren't at your job, when you didn't have to be a professional.

But when Bradley went to give one of your students a high five, the stark juxtaposition of his hand compared to an eight year old's was astounding.

They were huge.

You wanted to entwine your hand with his, to feel his calloused fingertips. You wanted to feel them all over your body, particularly your throat.

But you were at your job. He was here to talk about his job for Career Day, filling in for a last minute cancellation.

So instead, you cleared your throat, "Let's give a big thank you to Mr. Bradshaw for coming in!"

Your professionalism nearly faltered when his hand laid itself on your shoulder, giving you a gentle squeeze.

"I'll see you later?" Bradley whispered, brown eyes full of hope.

One could see your quiet nod as a way to not draw attention to the interaction.

But you knew the truth. It was to keep yourself from saying something highly inappropriate in front of twenty third graders.

After your illy-timed revelation, it felt like the universe was doing everything within it's power to draw attention to Bradley's hands.

When you came home, you found Bradley in your kitchen, long fingers splayed out across one of your cabinets as his other hand worked to tighten a screw. His brows were knitted together in concentration, the tip of his pink tongue sticking out between his teeth as he focused.

His sweet brown eyes lit up when he saw you at the doorway of the kitchen.

"You'd think for how much your landlord charges, they'd have the decency to make sure all the screws are on tight."

It was such a sweet gesture. You hadn't mentioned it at all, meaning he must have noticed it himself. He took the time to grab his toolbox, bring it over here, and begin fixing it himself.

And all you could do was stare at his hands.

"Birdie? You okay?" His question broke you out of your trance.

"Oh yeah! Thanks Roo," you quickly kissed his warm cheek before excusing yourself to change.

This was bad. It was too early in the relationship to say something. You two had only slept together a handful of times. You still fucked in missionary there was no way you could ask him to choke you.

And what if he wasn't into that? What if he thought it was weird? Wouldn't be the first guy. But the difference now was that you really liked Bradley. You could see a future with him and he felt the same way.

The last thing you needed was to make him run for the hills.

So when you went into the kitchen after changing, you focused on reheating leftovers. Not the way Bradley was playing with Ladybug in the living room, those God damn hands scratching the dog's belly much to her delight.

This plan was going pretty well, until you felt large palms skimming across your bare thighs, a broad chest pressed against your back.

"Are those new?" Bradley asked, referring to the soft lounge shorts you had on.

"Uh yeah. They were on sale so I decided to treat myself," you quietly explained. God, his hands covered so much of your flesh. The way they gently kneaded the soft muscle of your thighs was heavenly combined with the hairs of his mustache brushing against your neck.

"D-do you like them?" Your voice was shaky, though it was an honest question. Okay, maybe you were trying to distract yourself again because thinking of the least attractive thing wasn't taking your mind off the way his fingers had slipped underneath the hem of your shorts.

Usually thinking of the way Stephen King wrote female characters always did trick. At least it did until Bradley Bradshaw came along.

"Love 'em. Love when you show off your thighs," he rasps in your ear.

"Really?" It was never a body part you noticed. In fact, you tried not to think about your thighs and the stretch marks that danced along the skin there or how much space they took up when you sat down.

Bradley nods before placing a soft kiss on your cheek, "Yeah. Don't get me wrong, I love everything about you Birdie."

His declaration makes your heart flutter.

"Guess I've always been a thigh guy? But yeah, your's are pretty damn amazing." You don't have to turn around, the small chuckle he lets out at the end indicates he's flustered.

When you turn around, you're met with rosy cheeks and bashful eyes. Bradley ducks his head into the crook of your neck, placing small kisses along your jawline.

His admission makes you feel at ease, your worries melting away. Your hands find his, several of your fingers wrapping around only one of his.

"I...I like your hands. A lot," you admit.

Bradley's mouth stills, "Really?"

You giggle, "Yeah. Like how big they are. Like how they feel when I hold them."

His mouth moves upward, now against the shell of your ear, "Saw you looking at them earlier. Is that all you were thinking about? Holding them?"

You could say yes and Bradley will drop it. He's had his suspicions about you, that there was more than you lead on when it came to the bedroom. Little things here and there have led him to believe it, as well as that you needed someone to open that door for you.

"I...." You took a deep breath, "I like how your fingers feel inside of me. And....I want to know how they'd feel around my throat."

The groan Bradley let out was gutteral, causing your thighs to clench.

"Jesus fucking Christ Birdie." For a brief moment, anxiety raced through your mind. You had messed up, had gone too far.

But then Bradley's mouth crashed against yours, his hands gripping the backs of your thighs as he picked you up. While the sudden show of strength made your head spin, it was feeling his erection that made you wonder why you worried in the first place.

Once you were placed on the counter, Bradley's hands trailed up your body, squeezing and kneading your soft flesh. His fingers reminded you that you had opted to go braless when you changed, the deft digits paying particularly close attention to your breasts.

All you could do was hold on, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt. Before you could even mark up that pretty neck of his, Bradley's hand found yours. His fingers spanned the entirety of your throat.

The grip he had on your neck forced you to look up, allowing Bradley's lips to crash against yours. It was dizzying, how small he made you feel.

Then his hand pressed against your throat and you were a goner. Broken moans filled your kitchen, your hips rutting against Bradley's in a feeble attempt to get more of him.

His other hand slipped past the waistband of your shorts, your body arching into his when his fingers skimmed the thin fabric of your panties.

You loved his touch. You were pretty sure you loved him too but that was a future you problem.

And all too soon, it was gone- his hand around your throat, the other rubbing your clothed core.

If it weren't for the cloud of anxiety beginning to form in your brain, you may have been able to say something witty, like taking it back to the bedroom. But that would require your brain to not jump to the worst conclusion, such as Bradley realizing how weird it was to be obsessed with hands.

Before you could say anything, Bradley dropped to his knees, now at eye level with your lap.

His long fingers trailed up your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They finally stopped at the waistband of your shorts.

Shit.

Yes, you knew Bradley was coming over. God, you even had the chance to change into something more appealing than the plain underwear that could only be described as 'granny panties'. And yet, it completely slipped your mind that perhaps you and Bradley would be doing something more intimate this evening.

Alright, that was a lie. You had been hoping that would be the case, but expecting it would be rude.

So you went to apologize, like you always did. Apologize for not being sexy enough, thoughtful enough, not considerate enough-

Bradley's mouth silenced you as soon as it latched onto one of your bare thighs. Your fingers found his sun kissed hair, clinging onto the roots to stay somewhat stable, which was extremely difficult considering the attention Bradley was giving to your thighs.

You thought he would give them a kiss or two, maybe a bite and then move on.

Instead, Bradley had developed an unpredictable pattern when it came to your thighs. A bite here, sometimes followed by his tongue lapping over the mark, other times his lips pressing open mouthed kisses over your skin.

It was nice. Borderline unusual, considering those you dated in the past hardly spent anytime on one specific body part. Was he doing this because of your unappealing underwear?

No. Bradley said he liked-no-loved your thighs. And Bradley Bradshaw actually meant what he said.

The seed of doubt that had tried to grow in your mind withered away with each kiss, with each love bite and mark he placed on your thighs. With every action done by his stupidly talented mouth, worries about what you were wearing faded away.

Instead, you could just enjoy the insanely attractive man who was in between your legs.

God, he was so fucking hot. In such a short time, he had mastered your body, knowing the perfect amount of pressure when he sunk his teeth into your skin. His fingers gripped your soft flesh, hard enough to leave hand-shaped bruises but soft enough to still be pleasurable.

Tension melted off your body. Your head lolled back, mind focused on how enjoyable it was-

Oh.

This is what it was supposed to be like all along, wasn't it?

"Birdie? You okay baby?" When you opened your eyes, Bradley was at eye level with you.

You could only let out a confused huh.

"You stopped making those cute noises." He thought those were cute? You had been trying to hold back, not wanting to be too loud.

Maybe you should be louder.

"Yeah, sorry, I was just enjoying myself," you said sheepishly.

Bradley shook his head, "Nothing you have to apologize for."

When you looked up, he was giving you that earnest smile that made your heart flutter.

It's that exact smile that gives you the courage to learn forward and kiss him, trying to pour as much passion as one can with one simple action.

Your body arches into his, fingers weaving through those soft curls.

One of Bradley's hands snaked down your body, going past the waistband of your panties. A jolt of electricity went up your spine upon feeling his fingers brush against your soaked core.

When his fingers traced over your entrance, you didn't hold back.

Which was great for Bradley, as the desperate moan you let out made his cock twitch.

Of course his fingers were quick and talented, considering his job. You just never considered how it would translate to the bedroom (or kitchen in this case). The first time he thrusted his fingers inside of you, you thought it was a fluke. It had been ages since someone had touched you, which explained why you came so quickly.

But now? You knew better.

Your small kitchen was quickly filled with the sounds of your moans and heavy breathing. Each time his fingers stroked that one spot, you saw stars behinds your eyelids.

How did he find it so quickly?

When his thumb reached up to draw circles on your clit, all you could say was his name over and over again.

Your head felt like cotton, but in a good way. Maybe he could feel the heat radiating off of your body, but for once you didn't care. A particularly hard yank of his locks earned you a low, guttural growl from Bradley, making your walls clench around his fingers.

His free hand quickly found the sides of your neck, squeezing just enough to make a broken wail fall from your lips.

You were fucking gorgeous like this, ears teary from pleasure, lips parted. Bradley had a strong feeling there was more than what you had initially shown him. But that strong wall of reservation had broken down over time. Seeing you like this was nearly enough to make him cum right then and there.

"Br-Bradley," you barely got out, as he changed the angle of his hand, his fingers now able to thrust deeper inside you. Fuck, were you hearing yourself? Did he make you that wet?

It was absolutely certain.

"Yeah?" His voice was smooth like honeyed wine, "You gonna come for Mrs. Bradshaw?"

Fuck.

All at once it hit you like a tidal wave. Your hips jerked erratically, desperate to get as much of his fingers as possible, trying to ride out the wave as much as possible.

Thank god he didn't stop. You were addicted to the pure bliss that was running through your veins. No worries, seeds of doubt miles away. All you could focus on was the gorgeous man in front of you who was making you see stars.

You could process what he said later.

For now, you just rode it out.

"So fucking pretty like this," He rasped in your ear, fingers continuing their ministrations, "Y'know that?" All you could do was weakly nod, sensitivity beginning to overtake your body as you were pulled back to that pleasurable edge.

"Yeah, you're my pretty girl. All mine." The declaration made your head spin.

"A-All yours-Bradley!"

This time when you came, your hands clutched the soft fabric of his shirt, clinging onto him for dear life. Second orgasms were really a thing? You always thought that your inability to experience it in the past indicated that something was wrong with you.

You were beginning to learn the problem wasn't always you.

When he pulled out, his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you in for a hug. Bradley quietly rocked you back and forth, pressing soft kisses to your temple.

"You good Birdie girl?" He asked, the smile evident in his voice.

You nodded, a dozy grin appearing on your face, "Yeah I just-wow. Never came twice before. Thought it was a myth or something."

"I think you've just been with shit people," Bradley stated, feeling comfortable enough to finally address it.

"I think you're right," your arms around his waist and your head settled against his chest.

"I-sorry about what I said earlier," Bradley muttered.

Oh yeah. That was something to talk about.

"The Mrs. Bradshaw thing?" you asked.

Heat rushed to Bradley's cheeks as he rubbed a hand against the back of his neck, "Yeah....I'm sorry if that weirded you out. You were just really pretty-I mean you're always pretty-"

"It's not the first time you've called me that." You felt calm talking about it. Part of that was seeing Bradley visibly nervous.

You did what you would have wanted someone to do. You take his hands into yours, giving them a gentle squeeze as you looked up at him with a soft smile.

"I mean it. I don't mind at all. It was actually....sweet but also kinda hot," you admitted, feeling heat rise to your face.

Bradley raised an eyebrow, "Oh really?"

You playfully rolled your eyes, "Oh God are you going to use this against me?"

"Absolutely I am." Before you could even protest, Bradley had already picked you up.

"C'mon Mrs. Bradshaw, I'm far from done with you."

#ask #my writing #bradley and Birdie #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradsaw x reader #rooster x reader #rooster x you #rooster top gun #bradley rooster x reader #bradley rooster x y/n #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster x y/n #bradley x reader #top gun maverick

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reidingandwriting · 27 days

Text

latched on > keigo takami/hawks (mha)

Word Count: 1.3k

Ship: Sub!Keigo Takami (Hawks) x Dom!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, smut (very loose term), mentions of abuse from the hero commission, mentions of call girls (if you squint), mention of violence (also if you squint), allusion to sub drop

A/N: Baby’s first attempt at writing some attempt at smut, I may try and do a full smut with sub!hawks later, I love my whimpering baby bird <3

how did he go from feeling so, so good to so, so stupid in the matter of minutes?

he was in bliss not even five minutes ago, whining out mixes of your name and high keens of mommy! as you worked him through another orgasm.

bottoming was new for keigo. he had never had anyone he trusted enough to tell about his desires, with the commissions grip on him. his list of ‘approved partners’ who were vetted by the commission and could (would) be… handled properly if they were to spill any details about the number two pro hero. keigo rarely ever called them, never satisfied from the basic hookups they provided, wanting so much more from his partner that he was terrified to vocalize. hero work was so demanding, he wanted to turn his mind off and just. let someone else make the decisions for him. but that required trust, and he never had that with anyone. and then he met you.

you were a PA at his agency, and as time passed, keigo found himself captivated by you. drawn to the way you treated him as if he was any other civilian. like yeah, you recognized him as a hero and what he did. you knew your work hours would be hectic due to his hours, yet you never complained. never seemed to mind really, always greeting him with a soft smile and some form of jab about him ‘messing up your beauty sleep’. which would turn into flirty banter, little jokes, and during late nights, sleepy giggles and conversations keigo would remember forever.

the shift happened when you were a plus one to a gala with him.

‘i’m not your boss right now, stop looking so tense,’ keigo teased as he rested a comforting hand on your shoulder. ‘just think of me as your smoking hot arm candy’ you laughed at his comment and rolled your eyes.

‘okay, pretty bird’ you cooed to the hero and you bit back a grin at the way his wings puffed up from the nickname. your hand met his cheek, and you turned his head to face you. golden eyes seemed to be darker, pupils dilated as he focused on the sparkling necklace you wore. ‘if only my arm candy would pay attention to me’ you pouted and keigo’s gaze met yours.

‘how could i look away?’

from there, there had been an obvious shift in your relationship with the hero. casual touches turned into lingering, intentional touches. behind the safety of his office doors, “hawks” was occasionally replaced by ‘pretty boy/bird’ and keigo had to keep from whining every time the teasing nickname left your upturned lips.

he wasn’t sure exactly what shifted that got keigo in this situation. but he found himself pinned under you, writhing under your touch. gentle touches, firm grabs. feather light touches that left him begging for more, hard grips that had him squirming and thrashing, threats of tying him down only exciting him more.

he was beautiful, you kept telling him. which he heard from fans every day, he knew he was attractive. but hearing it from you? a whole other feeling. whimpering each time ‘look so pretty, birdie’ or ‘my beautiful boy, gonna cry for me?’ and ‘my good boy, so good for me’ slipped from your lips. his breaking point? your fingers gently lifting his chin up so his teary gaze met yours, peppering his face with kisses and whispering in his ear ‘wanna see you cum, songbird. deserve it, pretty boy, i’ll take care of you. just let go’

and god did he let go. strings of white spurted from his cock, over your hands, over his stomach, but keigo was too spent to care. he was truly fucked Stupid, basking from your coos as you talked him down, your hands petting him as he calmed down. suddenly, there was a shift in the mattress and keigo couldn’t stop himself from grabbing your arm, panic filling his body as he begged you not to leave him, he’ll be good, please stay, please let him stay, and he felt his grip on you tighten. and there’s where he made his biggest mistake. he couldn’t let go.

“it’s okay, birdie. i’ll be right back, just gonna get something to clean you up.” you soothed and you frowned lightly as his grip didn’t relent. “hawks?”

keigo flinched from the use of his hero name, missing the nicknames that you called him just a minute ago. “i-i’m sorry. ‘m so sorry, i can’t-“ keigo started to hyperventilate and you were on him in a second, by his side and pulling him closer to you. keigo curled into your body, face buried in the crook of your neck, and tears burned in his eyes. moments of silence passed until it dawned on you.

“you can’t let go, can you, bub?” you asked and keigo shook his head.

“it, it will stop in a little bit. i just… i thought you were leaving me and. i panicked, i lost control. ‘m so sorry,” keigo whispered and you carded your fingers through his messy hair, smiling as you felt the tension start to leave his body.

“not going anywhere, promise. just wanted to get you a washcloth so we could clean you up a little bit. but i can wait. however long you need, love.” you pressed a kiss to keigo’s head, humming as you slowly rocked him. you figured this could happen, but you thought it was such a small chance, you didn’t really prepare for it. but it was hawks. your hawks, your birdie. you could adapt. you’d take care of him.

a while later, keigo’s grip started to release, and as soon as he was able, keigo pulled his hand away. you tutted at him and took his hand in yours, and you started to massage the hand that had been gripping your arm. keigo found himself staring at the spot he had grasped you, hurt you he’s sure, and you called his name.

“are you okay now?” keigo blinked at the question. “feel up for a shower to clean up?”

“you.. you’re worried about me still? i hurt you.”

“and i just spent god knows how long overstimulating you. probably a little painful, even if it felt good.” you tilted keigo’s head up and pressed a lingering kiss to his plush lips. “i told you, hawks. i care about you, i’m here to take care of you. as long as you’ll let me.” it was your turn to blush, your cheeks burning but you kept keigo’s gaze.

“keigo.” he found himself whispering. “name’s keigo.” you mouthed his name, whispered it to yourself and the prettiest shade of pink covered keigo’s cheeks. “if it’s not gonna be any of your little nicknames, i.. i’d prefer keigo outside of work.”

“well, keigo,” you smiled as you pulled his hand to your lips, kissing over every knuckle. “why don’t we get you cleaned up? then we can come back to bed, order some takeout for dinner? i can make breakfast for us in the morning,” you offered and keigo felt his heart flip in his chest at your offer.

“that sounds perfect.”

an hour later, you were cuddled in bed, keigo on his stomach, head on your stomach as his wing draped over you. his breath hit your stomach, soft puffs leaving his lips as he slept peacefully. you combed through his damp hair, occasionally running your hand down between his shoulder blades just to see his wings flutter and his breathing shake a little. a small smile graced his lips as he slept and you let your eyes close, a matching smile on your lips as you dozed off into the best sleep of your life. you could get used to this…

#mha #bnha #mha fic #bnha fic #bnha hawks #mha hawks #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #sub!hawks #bottom!hawks #hawks smut #smut #mha smut #bnha smut #baby’s first smut fic #smut is a very loose term in this fic #i wrote this in like an hour

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k2ntoss · 2 months

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YO QUISIERA - JASON TODD

tw ⭒ jason todd x fem!reader, john constantine's sidekick!reader, swearing, jealousy and that's it, this is mostly fluff with best friend jason based on guess what??? ANOTHER SONG, yo quisiera by reik

a/n ⭒ do you have an idea of how of a sucker i am for jay????? this is just, i need this please show some love. reblogs and comments are appreciated and each one gets you a kiss on your forehead and a warm hug and yeah, i mentioned mbv because it has jensen ackles and he's my man <3

have you ever heard about not being able to decide who you love? well, jason has heard enough of that bullshit and he was sick of it.

it all started the day bruce brought back with him the man that the bat-kids could consider their weird uncle, john constantine and he showed up with a girl that was about jason's age. she walked swaying her hips a little too much and wore a smirk on her lips that made him a mix between upset and fascinated, there was also that white button-up shirt with the black trousers which made her look like a mini-me of the obnoxious sorcerer if only she wore also a trenchcoat and a red tie.

his first claim, after your first meeting, was that he didn't liked you "she speaks like she has all the right in the world" he said, voice gruffy and body a little too tense when dick asked him what he thought about you "she thinks she's funny but she's fucking annoying" and that makes dick chuckle.

"i think she's funny and smart, maybe you should try and spend some more time with y/n" dick tells him with a shrug before he leaves jason with his thoughts. there was no way on earth he'll get along with you.

but thruth be told, you were a little more giddy and nice that anyone could ever say constantine was and that made jason a bit less avoidant when it came to the times you were around the batcave and let's say that he just happened to get used to you, that's how he finds a new friend that he never thought would really understand him but he was mistaken.

since all of this it's been two years, it took jason a while to open himself up to you while you were maybe a bit of an oversharer but jason enjoys listening to your rambles, it's been so easy for him to accept you into his space in a way that's been noticeable to everyone around, not that they say anything because there are things that need to happen.

but what makes everyone tease him when they notice is how he seems to turn into a giddy kid whenever you're close, there's always a nice aura around you both but there are times he would be walking behind you like an overexcited puppy, following you from a corner to another because he needs to know what you need even if it's just a hug.

for dick that's just so funny, because he does remembers how annoying jason said you were and now he barely accepts going on patrol with anyone but you as his partner "thought you said y/n was annoying, you spend too much time with her for someone who you can't stand" he starts as soon as he steps next to jason and it causes him to grunt.

"she's annoying but she's my friend" jason says, shrugging it off before walking away to start his shift with dick as his partner "and what if i spend too much time with her? that's what friends do" the way he gets all defensive amuses dick and makes him giggle.

"sure thing, birdie boy" the nickname earns him a death stare from jason because that's just one of the ways you call him and if jason has to be honest he loves it but only when it comes from you "friends are running behind their friends like a lost puppy and looking at their friend like they hung the moon and the stars on the night sky"

"shut your mouth, grayson, she's my friend"

and yes, you're best friends but that doesn't mean he's not dealing with a big crush on you and he tries hard to hide it. maybe it works with you because you've never been wise enough with those things but there are things you can't hide from a family of damn detectives and the way he looked at you, how he spoke about you and the big amount of time he spent with you, yeah even bruce was aware.

jason had to deal with their knowing looks, the not so subtle glances they gave him as soon as you stood next to him because he was afraid that you could notice and that his feelings could ruin your friendship. it was sad having you so close yet not being able to do anything about it, he could hold his love if it meant you would be by his side even if he would have to see you around anyone else.

he wanted to be the one for you; he wanted to be reason of your nerves and smiles, he wanted to be the guy who would keep you awake until late just to talk a little bit more so then you could wake up feeling so eager to see him. jason wanted to be the guy you loved the most.

but instead he was your best friend, a shoulder to cry on and the first person you would always ask for advice before a date, which was the situation today. three days before valentine's day.

"and how am i supposed to know if he really likes me? i mean, he's nice but that can't be all" you start once you sit by his side, looking at jason with a small frown and your tone sounds so frustrated he sighs.

the question itself makes his breath catch because if he's not careful he could be giving himself away, letting you know how he feels about you and that is something he can't let happen.

"how am i supposed to know? i don't even know the guy" he replies with a low scoff, but truth be told he knows who the guy is and he also knows that he isn't worthy for you and it had been proven when he cancelled your date "but if he cancelled your date he might not be really interested"

"jay, i'm being serious! it's there something wrong with me?" you sink a little into the couch, arms crossed and a small pool of tears now forming on your eyes "why can't i have one single chance? why isn't there a single guy that really likes me?"

the only thing left for him on these situations is to lean in and drap one of his arms around your shoulder and he does, pulling you closer so you can cuddle yourself up into his side while he kisses the top of your head and bites his tongue so he holds back his words.

"life is pretty shitty, isn't it? i'm pretty sure the right person will show up eventually" he says softly, jason caresses your side while he coos you and there's a second when he swears he has a chance because you look up at him in a way that sends his stomach to do backflips.

he feels so damn jealous, you've been telling him about your dates and the guys that you hang out with and he wishes it was him instead. that he could be able to call you his, to kiss you and hold you, call you his girlfriend and have you all for him. he knows that's not even possible, he knows he can't indulge himself such a pleasure.

"i wish all guys were half as nice as you are, jaybirdie" your words are enough to make his face go as red as his helmet but he just pushes his feelings away again.

she's just being nice, you stupid asshole he tells himself as a dry chuckle leaves his chest mixed with an annoyed grunt "you don't want a guy like me, sweetheart, i'm sure as hell" he says in a whisper that you seem to ignore and he knows that it's better that way.

"now... i have no valentine's date so" he listens to your words and there's a voice on his head that tells him that this is his opportunity to get you a nice gift, to win you over but that's only possible on his dreams "would you be my valentine?" you asks, eyes still teary but there's a small smile on your lips and he wants to scream yes, he's about to answer when cass comes into the room.

funny enough to tell that cass is the only one of his sibblings that really knows from the source that jason is into you and they've both tried to find out if you have feelings for him and you do, cass knows and she has told him but he refuses to believe it. life isn't that good for him.

"ew, no" he says, his hand nudding your head lightly and he misses the quick glint of sadness on your eyes but cass doesn't and she coughs while giving jason a knowing look as soon as his eyes meet hers "why would i date my loser best friend for valentine's?"

rejection hurts and even when it felt like you were asking him as your second option thruth was that you've been scared enough to make any move. because this was special enough for you to want to be the one to actually court him, making him feel wanted and needed because he was important for you way beyond the friendship.

"yeah, no" you nod as you sit straight, clearing your throat to get rid of the knot that was starting to mess your voice up "it would be really lame, sorry. you must have plans already just for me to ruin them"

the sudden change on your attitude weirds jason out and it also scares him, did he messed up? yeah, he did he manages to think with the glare he receives from cass. sitting straight too, reaching her arm again to pull her back into his embrace.

"i hate valentine's, you know i have no plans at all" he says softly, trying to get you to look at him "but i can make an exception for you, what were you thinking for us to do?" jason asks, leaning in to kiss your temple.

"i was thinking we could watch a movie, you know..." you start, maybe a little less excited that he would wanted you to be and he nods with a small smile, his mind running with possible ideas until he remembers one of those movies with one of your favorite actors.

"my bloody valentine?" jason suggests, looking at you with a raised eyebrow and a smirk on his lips that made your heart jump. this was exactly the kind of things jason never gave himself credit for, he may not be perfect but even with every flaw he could possibly have he was there, trying to be better for those who deserved to be loved.

it was set, you left after a few minutes of discussion on what to bring to your valentine's movie night. as soon as you were gone cass came up to him and the way she stood right in front with her hands on her hips made him guess what she was about to say.

"i know i almost fucked up" jason starts, hands on his face as he grunts "but i just- how do you expect me to believe she really likes me?" he asks on the edge of losing it.

"jason, she's being so transparent about it" cass says, she sounds tired and maybe she is, this isn't the first time she's said this to her little brother "you're not the only one that's chasing after her all the time, she's also doing the same and you're just too hard headed to accept it"

those words play on his head on repeat until the time you're out of his room, hands holding a couple of bags with food and also a small gift you brought him. it doesn't matter how the night ends, you wanted to give him something special. jason opens the door of his room, a big and warm smile as he sees your face and his heartbeat grows faster.

he lets you into his dorm, letting you sit on his bed with your back leaned against the headboard and he drops to the matress, his head resting on your lap while you play the movie and everything is nice, you both laugh at the cranky 3D effects that are just so weird on a common screen, he teases you whenever tom hanniger appears on the screen and chuckles when you giggle.

he eats a little distracted, feeling so at ease when your fingers brush through his hair and he stops watching the movie to look up at you, all the happiness he felt being replaced by a wave of doubt, he wanted to accept the idea of you liking him back but his mind was always ready to mess it up.

jason isn't aware of the low grunt he lets out, sound that brings you to pause the movie to look down at him with a worried expression because you wouldn't want him to be wasting his time on something he didn't wanted to do. he feels your gaze on him, eyes fixed on his face and he turns to watch the screen.

"what's going on, red?" the nickname slips, it isn't so often you call him like that but right now it just seemed fair when his cheeks blush a little "is there something wrong?" and the soft voice you use makes jason want to cry.

if only you knew how bad he wanted to tell you, he was dying to let you know how much he wanted to kiss you and have you all for him.

"if i tell you something you promise me we will continue to be friends?" jason asks, it slipped and he wants to tell you to forget it but he knows it's too late when you tilt your head before nodding "i just... is it weird if i told you i wish i was the reason you wake up all giddy? is it bad if i told you i wanted to be the guy you cry over? that you really felt something else for me? i'm just dying to tell you so many things but i'm afraid you don't feel the same, i'm afraid to tell you i want you to be in love with me and lose you, that the only way to see you then is on my dreams"

with each word he says your cheeks burn a little more, your heart is about to burst when he stops speaking. jason is looking at you, waiting for a response and he grows anxious when you don't speak right away, he shifts about to stand up when you stop him.

"who says you're not already the guy i've cried for?" your voice is soft and he can't bring himself to believe his ears "i mean... i can believe you don't think about it but how couldn't i? when i told you i wished any other guy was like you i meant it... i thought you didn't felt anything else for me"

you want to keep talking, keep on telling him everything you've felt for him but your words are hushed by his lips on your.

jason is kissing your lips, his touch so tender on your face while his hands cup your face like you could break or vanish at any second. the movie was still paused and who could care about a hot masked killer when jason was reciprocating your feelings?

"do you mean it?" his voice is low, almost a whisper as he speaks after breaking the kiss without putting much distance between your faces, lips still brushing as he looks into your eyes.

"i mean it, red" and your words, mixed with that cute giggle of yours made his heart melt "i like you. i love you" you whisper with your eyes closed and jason feels like he's in heaven.

"i love you too, sweetheart"

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mockerycrow · 11 months

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Hihi, okay, I have a request!

Can I request how 141(mostly ghost & price but whoever you want) + König would react if their s/o has scoliosis? But it's a really, really bad day, and every subtle movement is nothing but pain? And could you possibly add their back seizes so bad they can't breath or move for like a few minutes? That happened to me earlier in a pizza joint 😣

I've cried so many times today from pain, and I can't stand up straight, and I'm leaning sideways leaning tower of fxckery over here

Please and thank you!

Ghost + Price Comfort GN!Reader With Scoliosis

cod masterlist

A/N: I only did these two, i hope that’s ok! also, warning—i do not have scoliosis, so i did some quick research for this. please let me know if it’s inaccurate and i will immediately edit this <3 i’m also sorry youre in so much pain!!! “birdie” is not a callsign, just a nickname to switch it up!

[WARNINGS: physical pain, military inaccuracies, hurt/comfort.]

-> John Price

Price is aware that you have scoliosis and he knows that it can be quite painful, but he hasn’t gotten the chance to witness how truly painful it could be for you. He’s seen you wince and sit down in unconventional locations in an attempt to alleviate the pain radiating in your back, your braces, everything.

Today is a day where he hasn’t seen you all day, besides in the morning to collect the paperwork that you needed to do by the end of the week. He found it odd when you collected it all at once as you usually space it out between days, but he didn’t stop to think about it.

He hasn’t even seen you leave to get anything to eat or drink and it’s 1100, and you got up at 0600. That’s when John decides to grab you a cup of your favorite drink from the common kitchen area and head to your office, as well as a cup of tea for himself.

John manages to get the door open with both hands full—somehow—and that’s when he finds you hunched over your paperwork, your thumbs digging into the inner corners of your eyelids, pressing until those large block splotches appear behind them. He pauses for a moment, noticing the way you didn’t even perk up at the door opening.

“Y’alright?” He asks in a slow tone, watching the way you jolt from your position. Your eyes open and they land on John and you look miserable, cold sweat dripping down your temple from pain. “Mhm, just.. a flare-up.” You wave your hand in air as if to dismiss your pain, causing him to walk over to your desk.

John places your cup down—thankfully in a blank spot that isn’t covered by paperwork—and he stares at you for a moment with a non-believing look. “Is there anything I can d-“ He’s cut off by a low, pained whimper from you; you shove your face into your hands, as if to hide from him.

Your breath hitches, like you can’t breathe, and John begins to panic. He puts his cup of tea down somewhere on the desk and puts a hand on your back, speaking lowly and gently. “Darling, I need you to talk to me before I drag you to medical..”

You take a deep breath, sending sharp pains shooting through your body. You manage to push out “muscle relaxers” and “NSAID”. John processes your words and his shifted to something serious, like he was on an actual mission. He goes around to behind the desk and finds the bottles in the upper right-hand side drawer.

John opens both bottles and grabs the correct amount of medicine, and he grabs your cup. “Open,” he murmurs, planning on feeding you the medicine. You take a quick breath and open your mouth and John swiftly feeds you some of your drink, pops the pills in your mouth, allows you to swallow and lets you drink some more.

“Good.” His voice is low and comforting, and he presses a kiss against your tear stained cheek, his thumb coming up to wipe your tears away. “When you’re ready, lovie, let’s move you to your couch. Heard hold and cold things may help, too.” He feels terrible as he watches you struggle to breathe, your muscles spasming terribly, sending excruciating pain through your muscles. John wishes he could take this pain from you.

-> Ghost

You’re moving supplies for the base, big crates full of food, MRE’s, medical supplies and more when you feel the familiar pain begin your back and radiating down your leg. You wince from a spark of pain settling into your joints of your leg. You, being stubborn, refuse to sit down at first; “work through the pain” is your motto most of the time.

And most of the time, that does not work at all. Johnny, who is unloading the crates with you along with two recruits, notices your pace slowing and you only slow when something is up. He watches you closely for a moment before he speaks up, walking next to you as you carry a crate to the loading area. “Y’know, bonnie, ya can take a break? We’ve got it.” He insists, watching the way you bend down slower than earlier to place the crate down.

“I’m fine.” You respond—if you don’t think about it, it’ll go away.. right? That was your second mistake, the first being offering to help when your back was already aching a bit earlier. Johnny sighs and grabs the next crate you pick up from you, causing your eyebrows to furrow. “Go rest, you need it.” Johnny says, pausing for a moment with a smirk. “Don’t make me get the L.T.”

You mimic his voice childishly “dOn’T mAkE mE gEt ThE L.T.” before picking up another crate, securing your fate. Johnny texts Ghost and within a few minutes, he walks into the loading area and you make eye contact, groaning half with annoyance, half from pain. “I’m fine.” You try to insist, but your tone is a bit weak, and you wince from the pain—a nerve in your spine is probably being pinched by this point.

You lift a crate and Ghost swiftly snatches it from your hands, and your jaw drops and you look up at him to argue, but his gaze is intense, silently telling you to listen. He protrudes authority with just his presence, much like his captain. Ghost has seen you have scoliosis related problems before, so he places the crate down on the ground and he grabs your hand. He doesn’t yank you along in fear of hurting you further, but he does guide you to your office.

“You need to start taking better care of yourself, birdie.” He eyes you as he has you sit down on the couch, walking over to your desk and opening the drawer he has memories your medications stay on. You grumble and attempt to adjust your position to feel more comfortable. “I do take good care of myself.”

“I said better, yeah?” Ghost pours the medications into has hand and walks over to you, dropping the medicine in your out-stretched palm. You want to be stubborn and snap back at him, but at that very moment, a sharp pain shoots through you and your muscles begin to spasm. You whimper and you blink, within a second, Ghost is sitting next to you, pulling you against him. “Shh, let it pass..” He mutters, his voice unnaturally soft, but still rough around the edges. “I’ll grab you some water soon, birdie. I’ll stay here as long as you need.”

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yurinaa-world · 2 months

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Hello! I've been loving the small snippets and headcanons so much, I just went on a small brain off - intake cuteness marathon while reading and saw that your requests were open (or at least they said they were open, if not you can completely ignore this! ´ω`)

Imagine the sweetness of calling Sunday your dove or swan.. Then think of the silly possibilities of calling him OTHER white birds. I would love to see how you would write his reaction to being called different names like "My Royal Spoolbill" "My lovely Red-Vented Cockatoo" "Beloved Masked Booby"

I just think it's a lil fun to tease Mr. Know-it-all with names that he might have to actually go and search up, some birdies being a nicer compliment compared to being called a chonky lil fella like the Willow Ptarmigan(〃ﾟ3ﾟ〃)

Thank you for your time whether you further this thought or not~!

Characters: Sunday x Gender-neutral Reader

Synopsis: Calling him bird names

Warnings: Fluff, spelling mistakes

(Notes: I found the request after posting it and I decided just to repost so it makes sense)

𝒮𝓊𝓃𝒹𝒶𝓎

Ugh, you're right the way he would call Dove or Swan. Like in such a sensual voice with you adding with the fact he only does when he whispers in your ear, almost sending shivers down your Spine. Ah, don’t tell him your mind is stuck thinking about something you shouldn’t be. He’s not at all innocent just because appearance, he knows what he’s doing.

Did I ever say that he also kisses your hands while calling you his “beloved swan.” (I’m sorry I’m shameless). He’s such a gentleman giving you cute and sweet nicknames “my beloved swan & my dearest dove.” while you on the other hand are just a menace.

“My lovely rock pigeon.” Anyone hearing that would be so confused and honestly, he is a little. How creative could you be with nicknames? Like calling him “my beautiful stork.” Or “royal tern.”

The more and more you begin to find more and more white bird names to use for him the more he questions everything.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“My dearest stork.”

You say playfully while the back of your hand gently rubs against Sunday's little wings. They are so soft and warm. “a stork? Am I just a bird with long legs to you?”

A mischievous grin curls up the corners of your lips while a single eye twinkles at your beloved Sunday.

“You have little wings and feathers right here so I don’t see a difference really.” you point out the little mini version of wings by the sides of his hair.

along with your words, Sunday grabs your hand and intertwines it with his. “some birds bite if you get too close to them, maybe I should bite you.” He playfully threatens as he brings your hand closer to his mouth.

“don’t worry I don’t bite that hard.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

#✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ Yurinna's Writing :･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧#sunday hsr #sunday x reader #sunday x you #honkai star rail x you #honkai star rail x reader #star rail #star rail x reader #hsr x you #hsr x reader #honkai star rail

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vinxhwrites · 5 months

Text

note: this is the result of a crazy writing frenzy I was in last night, I went a bit feral over this idea and I don't know where this story is going. Also I spiraled after I read this. anywayyy hope you enjoy this drabble.

pairing: f!reader x price (x ghost - maybe eventually?)

summary: After going to work in the military you develop a weird relationship dynamic with your captain, and soon you find out you're not the only one.

word count: 2.7k

cw: 18+, daddy kink (!), probably inaccurate job descriptions/situations, pet names, a little bit of angst, a little bit of h/c; reader is kind of a crybaby; not proofread;

You couldn't explain the story of how you got yourself in this situation if you tried. You were barely able to understand it yourself. Yet, here you were, sobbing in your captain's arms at his office, way past your working hours, calling him daddy and praying that he'd kiss you.

You had a hard day, as it was pretty common nowadays.

You certainly weren't fit for this work environment and you were painfully aware of it. It didn't matter how much you tried you couldn't get past this fact: you were an academic. You weren't used to the discipline, the hierarchy, and the life-engulfing aspects of the military.

When you had accepted the job 8 months prior, it really was the salary that convinced you, if you were being honest about it. You had been living on scholarships most of your adult life and it was getting kind of tiring. A part of you wanted to refuse out of a moral stance, but you didn't.

You were fresh out of a linguistics PhD program at the time, and you excelled as a student and researcher, but your skills were very specific and not that marketable. Your mom was probably right when she tried to dissuade you from dedicating your time to mostly dead and made-up languages, but you were too stubborn to listen at the time, although her greatest concerns were, as usual, well-founded. Needless to say, the opportunity came at the right time.

It seemed urgent and they tested you relentlessly. It was clear to you from the beginning that no one there was thrilled to resort to a civilian linguist. It was fun, though, and you passed the tests as if they were silly little puzzles you do to relax. And you were the only candidate to be able to decently decipher the completely made-up languages and codes that were used in the telegraphs they gave you.

They hired you on an 18-month contract for two different jobs: translating and decrypting intercepted messages for a task force, and also training their own linguists to do what you did. If you were good at it, you wouldn't be needed anymore.

The task force was nice enough, all four of them treated you well and didn't bother you much. At first, it was a bit disconcerting, but by now you've gotten used to how attractive they all were to the point where it almost didn't affect you anymore.

All of them called you birdie. You liked it, it made you feel included to have a little nickname. Soap was the one to come up with it on the second week you were working with them "Some birds know many languages." he had explained, clarifying: "Bird languages, ye know". The original explanation made you smile, but the addition made you blush "Plus, ye're cute like a little birdie"

The training part though wasn't going so well. You were almost 100% sure that all six of the students hated you. It seemed offensive to them to have to sit down and learn anything from you. In the beginning, you did your best to be pleasant, to do the best job you could, and maybe win them over. But at this point, you just wanted to be done with it and never look at any of those people ever again.

They were building a computer program to do your job apart from the classes. You felt offended at first at how they didn't even hide the fact that you would be used and then replaced by a more efficient machine, but you were now praying that they'd get it done as quickly as possible. The program was really good at pattern recognition, but it still wasn't good enough at semantics, and it lacked any nuance of interpretation.

The only thing that made you want to stay a little longer was this thing with Captain Price. It had started innocent enough, he took pity on you when he noticed you struggling with the new environment. He said some kind and assuring words here and there when he noticed how much the students tormented you, and he'd reprehend anyone who dared to disrespect you in front of him.

Eventually, Price casually invited you to work in his office if you wanted to, being away from other people seemed to ease your nerves a bit. He didn't mind, he assured you, it was nice to have some company. More than that, he genuinely found your job fascinating and always asked you to show him how you did it in his free time.

He sometimes brought you tea the afternoons you spent there, he'd accidentally brush his arm against yours, or touch your leg with his knee when you sat beside him. At first, he'd correct the movement, but it evolved to not correcting it, to then doing it intentionally.

They were simple touches, a little pat on your shoulder here, brushing your hair out of your face there, every single one made you shiver. One day he made a comment about how uncomfortable you looked on the chair and pulled your legs to rest on his lap while he worked. That was the first night you allowed yourself to fantasize about him to sleep.

John had a warm and comforting presence, and you were genuinely disappointed when he wasn't around, finding comfort in the fact that he gave you a copy of his office keys, so you could work there even when he wasn't present.

Ghost was there sometimes, seemingly preferring to work from Price's office as well. At first, he seemed to get disconcerted by your presence, probably a bit annoyed that he had to share the space with you, you thought.

He was never rude to you, just awfully quiet, even when it was just the two of you there. He nodded at you when you greeted him, and often sat on the big sofa on the corner or even on the floor. You offered him the desk many times, feeling a bit guilty for taking up so much space, but you noticed he only accepted when he seemed truly tired. Despite the unsettling silence, you thought he was a gentleman.

You first thought that John had somehow hypnotized you when you noticed the subtle ways in which your heart lost its pace whenever he commanded you to do something. He rarely asked without a smile, a polite inclination "dear, will you please file these reports for me?" "can you please grab me a cup of coffee?". He'd only deviate you from your tasks like this when he seemed to be in a bad mood, you noticed. It was never about anything urgent, and it was always when you were clearly already busy. In spite of it, you were never able to say no. He seemed to derive pleasure from bossing you around like that, but you knew he didn't have to remind you of the power he had over you, as it always hovered on your mind. Either way, soon enough you were painfully aware of the fact that you'd do absolutely anything he asked you to.

But you knew, for sure, that you were in trouble when you realized you got aroused anytime he'd compliment your work. Getting his praise started to be a more important goal to you than anything else. Earning a "good girl" was a rare occurrence, but it never failed to make your day.

One day he found you crying, and you couldn't quite explain what it was with words without feeling ridiculous. After what they called a "successful mission" it dawned on you that the information you were extracting out of those telegraphs really was being used to kill people. Those weren't your silly little puzzles.

"Criminals" Soap had corrected you as you tried to articulate your despair, much to your dismay. He wheezed as if your frame of thought was absolutely hilarious. "Shouldn't be here if you'll react like that, birdie" he had said and you wanted to scream.

"You'll get used to it" Gaz had assured you, sending a disapproving look towards Soap.

Later, the more you tried to express your frustration to John the more you cried, sobbing pathetically. It was the first time he hugged you, shielding you from the world around you for a minute.

"You don't understand..." you tried to explain, but you cut the sentence short at his stern look.

"I do understand," he said frowning, keeping his hand firm on your back. He took a deep breath and leaned down a bit to look you in the eyes "Listen, you do a good job, sweetie. You're doing good things, even if it doesn't feel like it sometimes" he assured you.

You nodded and tried to get the crying under control, suddenly aware that you probably looked terrible.

John cupped your face in his hands.

"Why don't you get the rest of the day off and get some rest, huh?" he suggested kindly "come to me if you need to talk."

After that, he got more and more comfortable being physically close to you. It quickly evolved, as you enjoyed being close to him a bit too much. Sometimes he'd squeeze your hand in his when you sat beside him behind his desk very casually and, sometimes, you'd rest your head on his shoulder while he worked. Saying you were in love felt like an understatement, but you'd never make it real by saying it out loud.

You once made a joke in passing about how your dad left you and your family, but he didn't laugh. He tilted his head and looked worried instead. I'm here if you want to talk he said, and it made you want to bury your head in the dirt.

Price called you many things, at first it was dear, sweetie, birdie, love, and finally, he settled with baby.

"what are you doing there, baby?" he just asked casually one day, and you almost gasped, feeling your heart attempt to leave your chest.

Although your relationship with him wasn't sexual in practice, it certainly was sexualized in essence. To you it was, at least. Oedipal if you were to be honest with yourself.

The first time he called himself your daddy it simultaneously broke and healed something in your brain. He chuckled at your reaction, how you looked at him wide-eyed and full of hope, hiding your face on his chest next.

"thank you, sir" you whispered then, pathetically.

You feared at times that your affection to him was one-sided, that he saw comforting you like this as a part of his job, a strange but effective one as well. You wondered if it made you weak, you didn't even try to be brave and deal with things alone anymore, you were aware of how childish it was to knock on his door looking for daddy's embrace at the slightest inconvenience. But you couldn't help it, it was too comforting to give up.

And that's the exact position you were in now. You had a bad day so you came running to him. He was awfully kind to you, as usual, and you prayed that it was a sign of enjoyment, that he actually liked comforting you like this.

You didn't notice when Simon came in. He froze by the door, and the captain just signaled for him to close it. John still had his arm wrapped around you, a hand stroking your hair.

"Shhh, it's ok now" he cooed at you "daddy's here."

Simon watched as you melted in his arms at the words, your breathing easing instantly. Again, you felt as if hypnotized. Your body responded to his words before your mind could catch up with them.

You wanted him even closer, you wanted to curl up on his lap, and have him rock you like a baby. Most of all, you wanted him to kiss you. You craved the touch of his lips on yours and the thought clouded your mind. Just that week you had already masturbated to the thought of him twice. Although you always reprehended yourself afterward, it didn't work to make these thoughts go away.

You rehearsed in your mind the idea of looking up and kissing him but didn't build enough courage to do it. You thought you'd die if he ever rejected you.

"That's it, you're ok," John said when he noticed the pace of your breathing ease, with his cheek pressed to the top of your head "I've got you, baby" he pressed kisses to your hairline. You sniffed, using your sleeve to clean the tears from your cheek.

"Now, be a good girl and go get some sleep," he said and you nodded against his chest, inhaling the warm smell of his shirt and suffering with the upcoming separation already "Ghost will take you to bed".

You raised your head and blinked at him, and that's when you finally noticed the tall figure close to the door, unmoved. You wiped your tears, distressed. For how long had he been there?

"Will you guide her to her room, lieutenant?" John asked him calmly, as if you didn't find yourself in the most embarrassing of situations.

"Yes, sir" Simon responded in the same tone.

The walk back to your room was painfully silent. The corridor around you was dark and empty. Your entire body was tense, and you walked fast trying to keep up with Simon's pace, hoping that he'd just say something and put you out of your angst, but he didn't.

When you finally reached your door, he opened it and waited for you to go inside.

"I'm sorry that you saw that" you blurted out, cheeks flushed pink "I-I don't know what to say. It's really not like that...-"

"It's OK" he interrupted when he noted the despair in your voice. He tilted his head a bit, evaluating your expression "I get it." there was something mischievous in his eyes, and you wondered if he was smiling at you behind the mask.

"Do you?" you asked, your voice was almost a whisper.

He nodded, and you relaxed a bit "I'm sorry you had a shitty day, birdie"

"It's okay"

"Tell me if you need anything." he said before signaling for you to enter your bedroom again, you thanked him quietly and closed the door.

Simon went back to Price's office in hurried steps, letting out a sigh when he entered. He was exhausted.

His captain was seated on the sofa, reports spread on the coffee table in front of him and a cigar put out on the ashtray beside him.

"Come here" John said, his eyes didn't move from the papers in his hands.

Simon took off his boots and mask before curling up on the sofa, resting his head on the captain's legs, and finally taking a deep breath as John started to brush his fingers through his hair.

"Don't know what to do with her" John murmured, more to himself than to start a conversation.

Simon hummed in response, his eyes felt heavy, and he could no longer keep them open.

"She's such a sensitive little thing..." John continued, seemingly lost in thought.

"She's cute" the lieutenant murmured, the drowsiness that flooded his brain making it almost impossible to form a coherent thought.

"Yeah" John chuckled lightly. "Well, don't worry about it." he assured, taking his attention back to petting Simon's hair "How are you?"

"Fine" he purred, getting comfortable on the sofa, even though it was a bit too small for him.

John hummed as he stroked Simon's cheek lightly "my pretty boy"

He watched Simon as he let his eyes rest completely and his body relax, being taken by slumber in a matter of seconds.

John continued to read reports well into the night, only waking Simon up, gently, when he finally decided to get some sleep himself. He accompanied Simon to his bedroom before moving to his own, patting him on the shoulder before sending him to bed. It was easier for Simon to fall asleep on his own then, as it usually was, after he had already been nursed to sleep beforehand.

#don't look at me!!#my dad died before my brain fully developed guys :/#i have serious daddy issues #cod x reader #captain price #john price x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon riley x reader #captain john price

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jin0 · 2 years

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When Fire Meets Fate [Mitch Rapp]

(gif is not mine, all credits go to the author)

Summary : You couldn't feel feelings or emotions like normal humans did. But you could when your best friend's brother, Mitch the firefighter, had something to do with it.

Pairing : Firefighter!Mitch Rapp x Reader

Warning : 18+ ONLY, MINOR DNI, mentions of fire related lingo, reader is in danger, running (yes it's a warning, I've got asthma), smut, titty worship, oral (m and f receiving), pussy slapping, fingering, slight creampie, pet names (sunshine and sweetheart), mitch is kinda soft but also really much mitch i guess ??

A/N : first post in a while, this one's for birdie nonnie so hope you enjoy love !!

Destiny had a funny way of letting things happen without any kind of warning or explanation. Everyone always repeated that bullshit about things happening for a reason and God working in mysterious ways but nobody ever tried to go deeper into this, try to explain it a little better. It was all about the vagueness and how mysterious it made them seem.

Well fuck that.

Fuck them and their stupid fate. You were the one in control and you knew it when the stupid choices you made would come back to bite you in the ass. They always did. If there was an omnipotent force to guide and even control each and every one of us, then it was doing a shit job because there was no way the decisions you made could be allowed by the universe. There had to be a pop up warning of some kinds to make you think it through at least one last time before actually doing anything.

To some, that pop up warning was sever anxiety and to other it was a little gut feeling that they enjoyed defying to test out their limits. All in all, you had neither, you were simply… empty. It was funny truly, but it made your life ten times more logical. From an outside point you were probably a psychopath with tendencies to tickle danger for the kick of it. Now, to anyone who knew better, meaning very few people, you were desperate.

It was hilarious really, poor you who simply couldn’t feel that rise in your stomach whenever something was wrong or when you were in danger. You simply couldn’t feel shit.

The doctor’s never understood why you, why or how it started. It wasn’t hereditary or anything, you simply couldn’t feel normal human emotions and you hated it, or at least you tried to. It was difficult to know what hate felt like when again, you didn’t feel things.

You had tried, through various technics and nothing had worked. You never cried when you fell and hurt yourself as a child. You weren’t in pain but it was uncomfortable. You never jumped in joy or even smiled whenever you’d be offered something, as pricy and beautiful as it was. You barely moved whenever someone was threatening you or humiliated you. The way you would look at these people right in their eyes had you nicknamed the Soul Searcher. You never lost an argument because you never let yourself be swayed by emotions such as annoyance or fear.

Your emotional impairment made you one of the best lawyers in the business. It was bad for relationships but great for money and business, so you weren’t in such a bad situation. You had learned to find great pros in a situation that pretty much seemed like a big con, another talent of yours.

For someone who couldn’t feel happiness or joy, you were very positive about most things and you were also very observant, making it very easy for you to study emotions and mimic them. Some called it manipulation, you called it adapting. In a society were everyone felt to a certain extent, it was your duty to try and look like them. You were only blending in.

But what were you supposed to do when strange things were creeping up inside you ? When tingles erupted in your stomach and started exploding all over ? Were you supposed to act like nothing was going on ? Could you do both ? Fake it and act like the little burning feeling in the pit of your stomach wasn’t there ?

That was your current situation, the predicament you found yourself in as you watched your office burn down slowly.

You always worked late and stayed behind to catch up on work. You groaned were not particularly fond of big piles of files and or putting things off. For all you knew, you could be dead tomorrow, so might as well do it today, right ? Well, Death had come knocking on your door that day.

With your headphones screwed around your head and blasting the loudest kind of music, you were fully focused on your work. You were the most efficient for a reason. Only emergencies ever managed to pull you out of it. And it was the case that day, when your best friend called in a hurry after sending her own weight in text messages.

“Please tell me you’re at home or out in a bar ! Tell me you went home early ! Tell me you’re not at the firm !”

You could hear the panic and the sniffles, she was crying.

“I’m at the firm, why ? Is everything alright ?”

She had taken a deep breath to hide a sob and failed miserably.

“Can’t you smell anything ?! T-The building… The building is on fire ! You got to get out of there ! Quickly !”

As soon as you had heard those words, that concentration bubble popped, letting the bitter scent of smoke creep into your nostrils. You couldn’t feel panic or fear but you were also actively avoiding death, so you did what she told you, you acted quickly.

You snatched your laptop and your bags as well as the USB drive containing your life’s entire work and ran, you ran as fast as you could, breathing in the toxic smoke. Maybe not the smartest thing to do. You had realized that when you fell unconscious, a few feet away from the exit door, lazily dodging a falling peace of concrete. It had blocked your way, but it didn’t matter anymore, not when you were passing out.

You could hear and see the bright light of a firetruck and the screams of the firefighters calling out for you, one of the voices sounding a little more familiar than the rest, and letting those bubbles explode in your stomach again. What a strange feeling.

When you started waking up, you felt comfort and warmth heating the side of your face. Nuzzling against whatever it was, you when it traveled to your forehead but quickly settled, too exhausted to fight when you felt good either way. The hand on your stomach, caressing it slowly felt good too, very good.

Suddenly jolting awake and sitting up, you looked around frantically, swatting away the hands on your skin and jumping down of whatever you’d been laying on this whole time. With all this movement, the dizziness was quick to get you and lay a cloud of nausea and confusion of you. The reflux of whatever pastry was in your stomach made your sour throat burn and your eyes water.

Was this pain ? Was it what it felt like to not feel good ? To suffer and be able to notice it ? To understand it and recognize it ?

“You have to lie down, otherwise you’ll feel even worse.”

Between the ringing in your ears and your shakiness, the faint voice of the person who had been touching you earlier managed to reach you. When you felt yourself falling again, arms wrapped around you before you could violent meet the floor.

“God, you’re a pain in the ass. Even worse than before.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes at a memory he had.

Composing yourself slowly, you took deep breath to gather your wits and register all the informations flooding your brain. As you felt your heartbeat slow down and your stomach settle, you slowly turned to look into the eyes of the man who’d been spinning your world around in such a short period. Or a longer one than what you were ready to admit.

“M-Mitch…”

“Happy to see that you remember me Sunshine. Does Stacy know you’re here ? She called me in a panic saying you worked in the building that burned down.”

You stayed silent and unmoving, practically frozen in time. You were loosing it out here, there was just no other way to describe it.

Mitch Rapp, the bane of your existence if you could describe it.

You did not hate or love, nor did you feel annoyance. But this man made you feel something very close to it and you were not pleased. You’d known him since you were thirteen, when you met Stacy. She’d been the most intriguing person ever to your younger self and still to this day. When everyone ended up leaving you because of your incapacity to feel like normal people did, she had stuck around and made sure to let it be known that she was not going anywhere. She would follow you around and ask you questions after questions. You’d never been bothered by your condition so you answered but the surprise was when she revealed the notebook she kept with everything you’d had told her about yourself. She learned happily and compensated your lack of emotions by what seemed to be an overabundance of them in her. She was necessary to you just like you were to her.

Now, one thing that you were certainly not needing was Mitch Rapp, Stacy’s big brother and an absolute pain in your behind. From the end of middle school to the end of high school, he made sure to push your buttons as far as they could go, in a simple desperate attempt pull himself out of his constant boredom. It being invasive questions or small touches in hallways when no one could see, he did it all.

The only barrier he never crossed was sex and public humiliation. You believe that he respected you to some extent, but his need to amuse himself seem to top it all, and you seemed to be the most interesting thing ever to him. Because where you naturally couldn’t feel and had taught yourself to fake it, he could feel emotions to their extreme and taught himself to simply not feel. Polar opposites, that’s what you were. And maybe that’s what had you develop the closet think you could feel to a crush on your best friend’s big brother. No matter how annoying you found him, he still did things to your heart that no one ever did.

And maybe you’d been far from a simple crush on him, using the term as an excuse. It was a good one right ?

It was even more fun to see how different you were because when you found a way to always be positive no matter what, he believed in nothing but himself. To him, the world was only toying with you and you could let it happen or fight back.

Nothing could link you both other than Stacy, so why was it that he managed to ignite such strange things in you ? It being happiness, interest, annoyance or lust.

You would always be ashamed of it, but you couldn’t help it. It was out of your control, once again, and this time it shattered your whole world.

How ironic of Destiny to choose the man you seemed to avoid at all cost as the only being to successfully make you feel.

It being a simple word or a whisper. Him leaning down to reach you and hear the words you’d mumble whenever he did successfully annoy you. All of it, it made your heartbeat rise, your skin heat up and your hands turned clammy. You even stuttered with him and you hated it. For so long, you wished to be normal but it happening with him and him only was something you couldn’t accept.

“Are you done staring ? Or is it your way of admitting that you like what you see ?”

His deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts, making your insides shake and while a new wave of confusion and anxiety rose inside of you. You completely ignored his words, staying still and staring at him with a need to jump his bones. Was it the uniform ? Or your high school crush just jumping out after years of repression ? You had done an incredible job avoiding the man so seeing him now, all dirty and looking absolutely divine in his firefighter uniform did have its effect on you. The famous “men in uniforms” type of feeling. It was indeed powerful and vicious too.

This wasn’t good at all. Why were you thinking this way ? Taking time to stare at the parts of him that were exposed and feeling genuine lust wasn’t supposed to happen. You needed to leave.

Looking around, you checked for anything that could be yours, which you grabbed quickly before dashing away, as fast as your current state allowed. You had been running a short distance before finding a place to hide and breath as much as you could. Your throat burned and your limbs felt like they would fall off in a second, but you couldn’t stay so close to him.

As you crouched down, a hand ever your heart and yours eyes screwed shut, you tried to slow your heartbeat but you couldn’t. You could still hear his voice and see his face in your mind. Even his scent tormented you, so much so that you could practically feel the warmth it carried.

Slowly realizing the situation, you looked up to find him there, looking down on you with your phone and your keys. .

“You can’t outrun a firefighter, mostly not with lungs like yours. I bet it burns huh ? Come on, let me help.” He breathed out, crouching down to your level.

When he reached towards you to touch you, your body acted on its own, jerking back and away from his touch. He was quick to react and surrender by raising both his hands.

“You’re safe, I’m not going to do anything you won’t like. Stacy would kill me anyways if I bothered you, especially today.” He promised, his voice sounding softer than usual and soothing you in a matter of seconds.

Moving slowly, you let him pull you to his chest and wrap you in his arms. You were still dizzy and slightly out of it from running with smoked lungs so you ignored the little yelp you let out when his hand slid under your shirt and under the strap of your bra to be held tightly against your skin. When he started making small circles over your skin with his fingers, you felt yourself sink down on top of him, your entire body melting into a puddle as you felt yourself relax and your heartbeat slow down.

You were no doctor but you were practically certain that the massage had no power to fix a painful breathing system, so you wondered why it felt so good to have him press into your vertebral column and help you relax. Your throat was still sore and you would be coughing for a long while but none of that mattered when Mitch Rapp was doing something to you, something that had you purring in the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, that feels good huh ? You like that Sweetheart ? Tell me how you feel.” He ordered in a low voice, his lips grazing the tip of your earlobe.

You stayed quiet, you couldn’t speak. You knew what would happen if you opened your mouth, the most humiliating sound would come out. You knew you’d let out a sound even worse that a simple yelp and you couldn’t have that.

You didn’t understand feelings very well but you wouldn’t let him get his way just because he was bored, even as an adult. You knew you were feeling something intense, standing on the line separating comfort and pleasure. That separation, you’d been standing on it, practically loosing balance each and every time Mitch Rapp was around and toying with you.

You tried to move, to get up and pry yourself out of his grasp but it was two against one, Mitch and your body siding together to fight your mind. He kept you close to him, held you tightly while playing with the hooks of your bra. Maybe you had jumped into the lion’s den by allowing him to help. Because now you were stuck, fighting the urge to respond vocally and let it be known that you wanted more, needed more.

These feelings and emotions, they felt good, so good. The kind of good you never had the chance of experiencing before. This was too much pleasure for you to simply detach yourself and let it go to waste. You wanted to discover more, dive deeper into what it was.

That yelp that you had been trying to conceal, it suddenly shot out of your mouth when he swiftly move you on top of him, having you straddle his muscular thighs. Maybe it was then that your body lost power and control, your brain taking over once again when you felt his bulge press between your ass.

“When I tell you to tell me how you feel, that’s not a suggestion Sweetheart. Let me hear it, how good I make you feel.” He growled, pressing you down on him by the waist.

This was far from simple firefighter intervention. This was Mitch, the Mitch from high school who’d corner you in hallways trying to get you to show him how you felt and what you looked like when you did.

Looking into his eyes, you saw it, that glint of excitement. Not lust, but interest. You were still intriguing to him and he was letting it be known that he hadn’t changed.

You shouldn’t have allowed him around you, not again, not like this, no matter what he made you feel. You were being flooded by emotions, this was what it was like to be overwhelmed. And maybe it had you tear up a little bit, but you were new to this and you didn’t know how to process them.

Looking around you again, you found all your belongings and even the one’s he’d kept. You expected him to keep you locked against him but no. As soon as you showed any signs of wanting to leave, he let go of you. You were surprised but also grateful, standing up on shaky legs and walking away as fast as you could. Your body felt like it would float away and you could still feel his gaze on you, fixated and piercing through your soul.

When you got near the outside of the hospital you’d ran out of, you were lucky to find Stacy waiting for you with a bone crushing hug and a speech about being aware of your surroundings. She might’ve also mentioned her brother telling her your location so that she could pick you up.

When you arrived at your place after convincing Stacy that you could survive on your own and would call if anything was wrong, you found yourself leaning against your door, exhausted beyond measure. You tried to move but you couldn’t, the mind whipping memories of Mitch Rapp playing with the most sensitive parts of you and actually having an effect.

Because with lack of physical or emotional reaction, came lack of sexual pleasure. You just, didn’t enjoy yourself, no matter how long you would try or how good he felt. None of this worked and maybe you were also at fault, constantly comparing them to the little high school crush you couldn’t get rid of. Maybe it was even time to admit that you might’ve loved him a little. Or a lot. You wanted to feel pleasure but to this day, you had to lie and fake orgasms to get out of awkward situations.

As you slid down your door, locking it for the night, you felt the pulsating sensation between your legs, the kind that had started when you were sixteen and would only happen around your best friend’s big brother.

Nothing ever happened but God, your body and mind agreed that you wished it would. You felt your insides scream at you for depriving them of him and what he clearly wanted, just as much if not more than you. Your mind could still vividly feel the large bulge throbbing under you and it was enough for you to flood your panties again.

You were ashamed of your reaction but how were you supposed to control what you weren’t familiar with ?

Reaching down to take of your pants, you mewled loudly when your fingers grazed your dripping core and pressed on your sensitive bud a little longer than what would be appropriate. You had the memory of his fingers pressing your back and soothing your raging heart, his breath against your neck and his strong scent sticking to your nostrils.

Maybe you were too out of it but you weren’t going to let this go to waste, pushing three fingers inside your wet pussy and inhaling deeply when you felt actual pleasure. You felt good. In an attempt to mimic his size, you parted your fingers open and played with your walls. You couldn’t breath properly, your bottom lip stuck between your teeth and your head thrown back. Letting out little noises, your let your fingers rub your insides as you let them go back and forth inside you.

You could feel it vividly, his own member, thick and raging with hormones and lust but also so much more, just waiting to dirty you all over.

Your fingers soaked and your juices dripping all over your lower parts, you cried out in pleasure when you felt your high get close. You cried out in pleasure, his name coming out a few times while you reached down with your second hand. When your thumb grazed your clit you were done for, instantly. This was what it felt like to feel pleasure and to cum.

You sat there, dazed and trembling, for a few minutes before standing up and finally entering your bedroom. After a very much needed cold shower, you dropped on your bed, your bathrobe falling to the floor. You sunk against the mattress, covered yourself and fell asleep in no time, desperately hoping that the night would erase the lingering presence of Mitch Rapp on your sensitive skin.

Maybe if you had been awake just a little longer, you would’ve seen him, leaning against his car, as he stared up to your window.

The night was ineffective. You remembered it all after eighteen days and you hated it. Everywhere you went, you could feel his gaze on you, the way he looked at you while he massaged your back. You could see it all and feel it all as if it was happening all over again. The memory you used to be praised for was now killing you a little bit each and every day.

But to add salt to you wounds, Stacy had given Mitch your number. And for a man who seemed to hate the majority of people and just about any kinds of discussion, he was fucking chatty. It started with simple messages asking how you were doing, then it turned into the kinds that would send your heart into a panic. He was slowly getting you used to his presence, you could feel it but the question was why ?

Why after all these years of not seeing each other, no matter how close your circles were, was he suddenly finding interest in you again ?

This question, you didn’t expect to find a response of any kind. But it seems you wouldn’t have any other choice when you found him, standing there, behind your door with a bag in hand.

You stood there, in your pajamas, looking at him with what seemed to be a blank expression but hid the most violent of hurricanes.

“Are you going to keep staring or are you going to let me in ?” He tilted his head with what looked like a smile behind extending the bag towards you. “I brought you a care package.”

You stayed quiet but moved out of the way to let him in. As he assed by, his strong scent infiltrated your nostrils and the entirety of your body, making you clench your exposed thighs together. The scent of smoke, wet grass, rain and pine trees, all of it forming the perfect mix to make your brain melt and your body react out of control.

When you felt ready to face him inside your home you finally faced away from the door but crashed directly into something. You looked up to find him staring down on you, a slight look of amusement.

“Where you sniffing me ?”

Fuck, that was humiliating. You tried to open your mouth to respond but no sound came out, just a string of weird faces and silence. You didn’t think you could react any worse, until you felt his hand slide around your waist, letting his fingers graze your skin and leave a soft burn behind.

“Tell me, Sunshine. Were. You. Sniffing. Me. And this time, I want to hear sounds coming out of your mouth. I bet you sound amazing when you’re being honest with yourself.”

His eyes were staring straight into yours and you felt mike he was pillaging your soul, trying to find the truth he was talking about. Who was named the Soul Searcher here ?

For a short second, you started questioning his motives, why was he insisting on seeing you react that much ? It wasn’t as if you would be crying of joy or breaking bones at each reaction so why ? You frowned , staring up at him, before you picked his hand off of you and laid a hand on his chest to push him away.

“Mitch Rapp, I don’t know what you’re hopping to find here, but we’re not teenagers anymore and I won’t let you toy with me and have your way because you’re bored.” You said, unable to conceal the slight annoyance in your voice.

Instead of backing off, he seemed even more amused this time.

“Is that what annoyance looks like on you ? I was working towards something else but I’m not going to complain, this is good, very good.” He asked, a curious grin on his face.

“Stop saying stupid things and go to the living room. It’s that way.” You exhaled, turning towards your kitchen area and walking away.

You met him in the living area, trying to ignore his presence as much as you could. You were feeling crushed under his aura in your own home and you wouldn’t tolerate it, but it seemed like he wanted to see you fight back.

You shook your head, ignoring all your questions and sat in the opposite couch.

“Why are you here ?”

“Well, you’re not very responsive over texts and even less for a phone call. I was worried, I pulled you out of a burning building remember ?” He joked, dropping the heavy bag on your coffee table.

“I pulled myself out of there, Mitch. And do you visit all the victims you save ?”

“No, just you. I came here to check on you too. Make sure your lungs would be fine. Stacy told me you still sucked at taking care of yourself so I needed to make sure you were taking good care of yourself. I was worried you know ? You tried to sprint out of the hospital as soon as you woke up.”

You tilted your head to the side, showing your confusion once more. You doubted the honesty of his motives but you weren’t going to debate him, you did suck at taking care of yourself. You shrugged and slide to the side, allowing him to sit next to you. You stayed still and silent when he grabbed your chin and asked you to open up. You waited until he was done with your mouth to proceed.

“Aren’t you like, off duty or something ?”

He chuckled, hearing your vague words.

“Off duty ?”

“Yeah. Firefighters, they’re off duty when they’re not working, right ?”

“No. Us, Sunshine, we’re not off duty. That’s for cop’s and soldiers.”

“Yeah, same stuff, except you don’t have a gun.” You responded, watching him check on your arms and neck. “Wait, but what do you know about my health anyways ? You’re a firefighter, that’s not your job.”

“I know. But I know my way around basic first aid and things like that, so I’m making sure.”

You wanted to smile, some other things never changed. He always had a thing for taking care of others or saving them. He saved you from countless situations and was always the one to fix you up when you were hurt. Being a firefighter was his calling. And the uniform looked damn good on him.

Looking down on his body with a blank expression, you observed and compared with his looks from years ago. You only ever truly saw him on few occasions and each one had your insides doing backflips. Stacy always made fun of you for gawking at him but she understood, her brother looked good. She even bragged that it was the genetics,

“Well, that’s nice of you. But I’m fine. So you can leave, and take the care package with you. It’ll be useless.” You declared, pushing his hands off of you.

You both stared at each other for a good minute before he removed himself from your grasp to hold you instead. When his hand took hold of yours, he pulled you closer to him, forcing you to lay a leg over his. In a swift move, he grabbed both your wrists in one hand while the other fell on your exposed thighs. Shorts were good to sleep when it was this hot outside, but definitely not when Mitch Rapp was in your living room, playing the deadly kind of game.

“Why are you always trying to get rid of me ?” He asked, a hint of sadness in his voice. You tried to respond but the sound were cut off again when his hand slide higher on your skin.

You looked down, inhaling loudly and biting your lower lip to hide the embarrassing sounds threatening to come out. He watched it all, letting go of your wrists to pull it out from underneath your teeth.

“Do I make you uncomfortable ? Do you hate it when I’m around you ? When I touch you ?”

You managed to free one of your hand, grabbing his wrist to pull his fingers away from your lips, but allowed him to feel your plump lips just a little longer than he should’ve. He looked at them with an unreadable expression but you felt like a lamb standing in front of a wolf, ready to be devoured.

At the thought of being viciously devoured, you couldn’t help the gush of wetness pooling in between your thighs, the sensation of pleasure and desperation infiltrating your mind all over again. You felt it, the heat from last time, it was back and it felt good but also uncomfortable. It wasn’t enough, you needed to quench that thirst flowing all through you.

Without paying much attention, you tried to speak again but this time, opened your mouth wide enough for his finger to slip inside your mouth and rest lazily on your tongue. You saw his eyes darken and heard the low growl erupting in his chest. You lowered his gaze, chuckling as he shook his head, but never took his thumb out of your mouth.

“Fuck…” He sigh, looking at you and warning you with his eyes. “For as long as I’ve known you, Sunshine… You ran from me. Everything I did, you would end up running away or hiding from me. Nothing I did was enough to have you react or stay, and it hasn’t changed.”

Feeling the defiance grow in you, you pulled his thumb out, looking at him with piercing blank eyes.

“Maybe if you stopped trying to get me to react for your own entertainment, I wouldn’t be running. I’m not here to fix your boredom.” You responded, glaring at him.

“Is that what you think ? Did I did all this just because I was bored ?” He asked with narrow eyes, was he angry at your assumption ? When you nodded, you saw his jaw tighten and you couldn’t help but react. Were you into this ? Visible anger, did it turn you on ?

Too busy wondering what new kink you seemed to have, you let your guard down, allowing you to be moved by him, having you sit on his lap again. And there you were, back to the issue you had faced the night of the fire, he was too close for your own sanity.

“Mitch… Let go of me…” You stuttered, trying to maintain your composure but were only met with silence and his firm hands gripping your waist. Younger you was jumping and screaming in happiness but current you wasn’t so happy.

“You keep saying that… That I have to let go of you, stop touching, stop talking to you. But what if I need you Sunshine ? You ever thought of that ?” He whispered the last part, leaning closer to your face. “What if I can’t fucking live without you ?”

This time, his words fall straight down your lower parts, having the exact effect you were trying to avoid. You inhale loudly, trying to avoid his gaze, but he’s quick to grab your jaw and force you to look at him. You weren’t the type to cry or feel altogether, but you were ready to cry right now. Why were feelings and emotions so annoying ?

“Why are you bothering me… Why can’t you just leave me and my emotions alone ?!” You asked loudly.

“You think I give a fuck about your emotions ? Sunshine, I don’t care about them. I care about you, that’s all I fucking care about since high school.” He pressed you down on his growing bulge, making you face the pleasure you felt with him. “Every touch in the hallway, every kiss on your cheeks, everything I did, all of it was for you to notice that I was ready to help. Fuck I was borderline desperate to help you and you took it for boredom ? Couldn’t take a fucking step around you without needing to inhale your scent. You even had me loosing it like a fucking idiot every time I saw you inside my house, but to you I was only bored ?”

He was vexed, but still gentle with you, letting you do what you wanted to do. In this moment, you felt all the years of repressed emotions and desires flood you in one big wave that you didn’t even try to contain. All the times you ended up screaming in a pillow because of the things he would say or just how he would say them. Even just looking at you made you feel, and all this time you tried to push it away, to refuse it. Well you were done doing that. For the first time in your life, you allowed yourself to respond to his actions by acting however you pleased too.

When you pressed your core down on him, you didn’t expect him to just let go of you and drop hiss head backwards. He leaned his arms on the back of your couch, a small smile on his face before he looked at you again, his eyes clouded by lust and faint restraint. This man decided to control himself now ?

“You can’t do that Sweetheart… What am I supposed to do when you retaliate ?”

“I-Isn’t that what you want ? For me to respond ?” You attempted to keep your voice as steady as you could despite the knot of moans forming in your throat.

“Is that what it is ? A response ? What are you responding to exactly ? And be clear, I want to hear you say it.”

Now he was teasing you, and for a split second, you felt like a teenager again, like the girl he would corner in hallways, kiss on the cheek and call beautiful when no one but him was watching, when no one but him could see you react. For a split second, you understood everything that he always showed you and you started questioning how good you were at reading people. Because you had read Mitch Rapp completely wrong for years.

“I want you to touch me. I want you to touch me until I feel something… Just like I felt before…” You declared, a sudden boost of confidence surging through you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, you waiting for his answer and him grinning like an idiot with no thought going through his mind. He needed to do something because you wouldn’t have the strength to do it again.

And in good Mitch fashion, he said nothing and acted.

When you asked him to make you feel, a part of you was worried for what would happen next. Were you ready to face whatever reaction he’d pull out of you ? And how would you react exactly ? Because you weren’t just new to this, you were finally accepting it and maybe it would be too much. You were used to being overwhelmed when he was around and never truly managed to deal with it. You hated the idea of simply untrusting the next events to Destiny but clearly you would have any other choice.

As soon as you spoke the words he had desperately been trying to hear, he lifted you up and marched towards your bedroom. You held onto him, staying quiet and avoiding his piercing eyes on you. If you could see what was going through his mind, you would think that he was crazy. There was no other way to explain it, but he couldn’t help it. The things you had him dreaming all throughout high school and even during adulthood, they tormented him for years.

Mitch Rapp had been in love with you since he was eight years old and you took his actions for a desperate attempt to entertain himself.

It was his fault for not being more direct, more honest with himself. All these times, when you’d smile at him or respond to his usual flirting with you own usual blank expression and wittiness. He just couldn’t help it, even if he tried, and it was certain that he never truly tried. He had wasted too much time acting subtle and discreet when the only thing he wanted was to drop to his knees and worship the very group you walked on.

But it was fine. Because now, he would catch up on years of missed opportunities and do everything his dreams had him hoping for. He would show you exactly how much he meant it when he said that it was never boredom.

As soon as he dropped you on the mattress, he did not waste a second trying to be subtle or gentle with you. He promised to make you feel and would do good on his promise, but he couldn’t think straight currently. All of you was made to ruin him and be ruined by him in return.

He watched your body bounce on the bed and for a second, processed exactly what he intended on doing to you, his cock twitching at the simple memory of your plump ass sitting right on the perfect spot and pulling the plug on any rational thought. At first, he came here to check on you honestly, but seeing you in your pretty silk shorts and tank top, he wanted nothing more than be the reason you wouldn’t be thinking or walking straight for the next few days.

He all but ripped his shirt off, and let it fall to the floor before dropping to his knees and pulling you towards the edge of the bed. You would be lying if you said that this little display of strength didn’t make your dripping cunt throb in desperation. You never wanted to be used so much in your life, ready to do anything to feel.

You pushed your legs apart without his help and were ready to hide your face when he looked at you with amusement and terribly hidden desire. He was amused but nothing had ever made him this hard in his life. He could feel his pulsating cock begging to be freed, pushing against his zipper and desperately trying to reach that sweet pussy of yours. He could see it, the juices dripping out of you and soaking your pretty shorts. He pushed them to the side and practically came on the spot when he came face to face with your exposed core.

You slept with this, and this only. No underwear and had greeted him at the door with this as the only thing covering you.

Wrapping his hands around your full thighs, he pulled you closer, burying his nose between your legs and inhaling the scent of your soaked pussy.

“Fuck Sunshine… Smells like fucking heaven… And bet it tastes even better. Tell me, do you want me to give it a taste ? That would make you feel good, do you want to try ?”

You could barely speak a word, your cunt doing the thinking for you when you pushed it closer to his face. His lips grazed the wet fabric and you let out a cry of pleasure. This was all you needed to truly feel pleasure ? God, he’d truly ruin you in no time.

Tightening his fingers around your flesh, he forced you to stay still and looked straight into your eyes with a commanding gaze.

“I said that you had to tell me sweetheart. Use that pretty brain of yours, and speak. Or do you just want me to leave, since you’re not communicating ?”

“No !” You exclaimed, genuinely worried that he would leave you without touching you. “P-Please… Please Mitch… I’m so… So wet… I n-need more… Please, touch me more…”

Your pleading voice sounded like a melody falling straight from heaven down his dick and erasing just a little more rational thinking out of his head. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting his go of one of your thigh to stuff his free hand down the front of his jeans. Fuck, this wouldn’t be enough. He frantically pulled it out to unbuckle his belt and undo his zipper, quickly freeing his large member and letting out a groan into your cunt.

You let out another cry of pleasure, feeling the vibrations of his deep voice inside you. Letting out little moans of pleasure at his closeness to your core, you couldn’t help but grind against your sheets, feeling your pussy spread around your tiny shorts and give you a little bit of the friction you asked for. You completely forgot about the man in front of you and started grinding against the sheets, shamelessly moaning his name as if he was the one doing anything.

He watched you, hand wrapped around his thick cock and jerking himself off to you as if he was a in high school again. He dreamt of being able to see you pleasure yourself before, but this was beyond any of his dreams. Gripping on the sheets with one hand, he knew he was done for when you used your second hand to spread your folds open and give him the perfect view of your modesty.

“Mitch… F-Fuck, Mitch please… Please… More, please, gimme more…” You sobbed, biting your lip hard enough to draw blood.

His hand tightened around his girth, slowly moving up and down and letting his thumb move over his tip. Fuck, he was hard, beyond hard, he was ready to bust with barely any contact. He wasn’t a difficult man when it came to sex, but you were making him and easy one. Easy to please and ruin. The kind that would only ever find pleasure in his hand because the girl of his dreams was too far away from him.

You spread your thighs even wider, giving him space to dive in and rub his nose wherever he wanted. You skin was as soft as those fucking shorts, so tender and easy to mark. He inhaled your scent and quickly kissed your inner thigh tenderly. You looked down on him and your cunt quivered when both your eyes met. He kept kissing you, so gentle and sweet, you felt like you were made of fine china. You could feel his tongue lick off the wetness that had dripping down your legs earlier.

Without paying much attention, you found yourself running a hand through his hair tenderly. He groaned loudly, trying to keep in his moans. You could hear the sound of his cock going back and forth into his hand as he fucked his fist at an increasing speed. The contrast between the eagerness from earlier and your sudden tenderness gave you whiplash and you felt dizzy all of the sudden, but you couldn’t on the opportunity to keep watching him pleasure himself.

“You like that huh ? You like watching me fuck my hand in front of you ? Making me go crazy and now you’re all sweet and gentle.” He groaned, his voice sounding strained.

You were quickly brought back to the initial state of things when his lips were replaced by his teeth and you felt a new kind of pain, the pleasurable kind. The sharp pain you felt when he took bit your inner thigh only made your insides wetter and your mind fuzzier. You were breathing loudly, letting the feeling pass while he stood up. His warm hand grabbed the back of your neck and pulled you closer to his exposed cock.

“Open up. And keep your eyes on me. I want you to show me exactly what you feel with your eyes, okay Sunshine ? You’re going to show me how good you feel gagging on my cock.” He ordered with a playful grin.

You obeyed mindlessly, opening your mouth and letting his cock slide in, rubbing your tongue slowly and letting you taste him. You moved to get on your knees on the bed and help onto his waist, your eyes never looking away from his. He caressed your nape as a silent praise, you were truly ready to let him do whatever he chose to do.

You had slept with men before, but none could rival with Mitch and his size. The feeling of being so full, you might explode, you now knew it. His bulbous tip pushed into the back of your throat, making you tear up at the slight lose of air. You tried to adjust but no matter what, he would be too big to fit. Probably seeing the dilemma in your eyes, he smiled tenderly and caressed your cheek.

“It’s okay Sunshine, don’t force yourself too much. Take your time and do what you want with me. I just want to see how you react to it, okay ?” His smile made your heart swoon, this man would kill you.

Starting off slow, you quickly lost yourself in the pleasure you felt from having him in your mouth. You dug your nails in his flesh, pushing him further down your throat as your sucked on his thick length as if no one was watching. He felt so big, you would suffocate at any wrong move, but none of that mattered when your body only wanted his cum to fill your stomach. You wanted to feel all that thick cum drip down your throat and fill you up like you’ve never been filled before. You wanted to have the memories and the remnants of his presence inside you.

You were going faster and faster, your soft lips wrapping nicely around his girth and sucking on his flesh with all you had. The sounds of suction were flooding your head as well as the sounds he was making, his groans and slight desperate whisperers making your pussy wetter than ever. You needed more, his cock wasn’t enough, you needed all of him inside you.

You tried to suck him deeper than your body allowed, feeling his invade your entire being. If you could see yourself, eyes crossed and fingers gripping on him as you grinded against your bedsheets, begging for pleasure as if you’d been deprived for years. It wasn’t necessarily wrong, you had been deprived by your incapacity to feel lust. But now you could feel and you wouldn’t let it go to waste.

Mitch watched attentively, basking in the pleasure you felt and made him feel. Those lips, he dreamt of them, but seeing you suck his dick like it was your mission on Earth did something vile to his brain. He gripped on your nape and started meeting your movements, pushing himself into your mouth in sync with you. You were quick to respond with loud moans, all of them echoing around his cock.

You giving him your all and even more than what he had asked for. He could see you enjoying yourself and begging for more. Quickly, the gurgling sounds of your drool filled your mouth and dripped to the side, all over your chin. This was the vision. He couldn’t control himself anymore, letting himself truly fuck your mouth full of him.

Soon, you weren’t moving anymore, the man in front of you doing all the work as he fucked your throat into oblivion and made sure to use you as much as he could. The sounds of his sack hitting your face filled the room and resonated around with your muffled moans and his own groans of pleasure.

“Fuck, feel that Sweetheart ? Feel his deep I am ? Bet you can barely breath… Fuck, that’s it, that’s good baby, that’s good… You’re taking my cock so good… I gotta cum Sweets… I needa cum in that pretty throat… You’ll let me huh ? You’ll let me fill your belly up with me ? Might cover your face too… Yeah, I’ll cover you pretty face…” He sounded close to cumming and you had never been so eager before to being covered in cum, but this wasn’t anyone. This was Mitch, and you’d only take it from him.

Your body felt like jello when he pulled your face closer to his lower stomach, your nose grazing his pelvis. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when you felt his spend fill up your insides. He pulled out to cover your face, like promised and watched the white substance drip all over your skin. He stayed still, grabbing the base of his cock on one hand, and his balls in the other, rubbing his tip over your lips and smeared his cum on your skin.

When he was done, he admired you, looking as pretty as ever on your knees, nipples as hard as diamonds as they poked through the fabric of your top, legs shaking softly and your eyes looking dazed and confused. You looked up to him and swallowed every drop of cum in your mouth, licking as much as you could off of your face. He grinned, grabbing your jaw and cleaning his cum off of your face with his thumb before stuffing it in your mouth. You eagerly licked it off and swallowed proudly. He leaned down to kiss your lips tenderly, feeling a sudden surge of romanticism running through his body. You responded by grabbing his shoulders softly and kissed him back, a soft sob coming out of you.

The kiss was as tender as it looked, delicate, as if he was trying not to hurt you of spook you after the multiple previous events. He pulled away, smiling honestly when you moaned in displeasure, holding onto him tighter and pursing yor lips for one more kiss. You wanted more kisses, you needed more.

“Please Mitch… Just one more…” You begged, and fuck, he knew he was absolutely gone for you but not that badly. He was ready to fold as soon as his name came out of your mouth, ready to do whatever you desired.

“I’ll kiss you as much as you want Sunshine, I promise. There’s nothing more that I want. But first I wanna put my mouth over that sweet cunt of yours. It’s been calling my name for days now and I really need to taste you. You’ll let me ?” You nodded and he smiled, dropping to his knees again. “Then, undress for me Sweetheart. And take your time, I want to see it all. I need to carve it in my memory for the future.”

You obeyed like the good girl you had shown yourself to be earlier. You started with your top, throwing it on the floor and letting him admire your soft tits bounce at your movements. He wanted to have them in his mouth too now. You proceeded with your shorts, letting him see how truly soaked they were before you tossed them to the side. You bent sat on the bed and parted your legs open for him to truly take you in.

He licked his lips, rubbing his fingers over your folds and pressing your clit with his thumb. The little yelp that followed fell straight down his girth, standing straight and ready for the next parts. You covered your mouth and he glared at you, prompting you to obediently take your hands off.

“Don’t ever try and cover your sounds. I want to hear all you have to say, always. Do you hear me ?”

“Y-Yes… I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, you’re still new to this. Don’t apologize for doing something without thinking or instinctively.”

The softness in his voice was still making your insides melt, but so were his words. He understood how you worked and responded accordingly. This was a first for you, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Tell me when it gets too much, okay ?” He ordered.

You nodded, waiting eagerly for him to do what he had in mind.

Without wasting anymore second, he pushed two fingers between your folds, making you sob in pleasure. You looked down on him and crossed his gaze while he stayed still, he was waiting for you. You took a deep breath before nodding, ready for him to proceed. You had the time to prepare yourself for more and you did good doing so, his thumb pressing on your clit and making your entire body jerk in surprise. Who would’ve expected you to be so sensitive ?

You covered you mouth as a reflex, surprised by the obscene sounds coming out of your own mouth. You’d been quick to forget Mitch’s previous orders clearly, the man punishing you instantly by pulling his fingers out and spanking your pussy until it was swollen and leaking out of control, not that you had any in the first place. You could only cry out a little more at each slap, begging for him to stop but pushing yourself towards his fingers everytime he thought of stepping away.

“Sweetheart, I won’t be telling you again. Your hands, off of your pretty face. Or do you want me to tie you up ?” He watched you genuinely debate the proposition in your head and smiled tenderly. He got up and kneeled on the bed to lean towards your face before kissing your cheek. “I’ll remember that for next time, don’t burn your neurons trying to answer.”

You nodded slowly, feeling your heart thumping loudly at the thought of doing it again with him. You hadn’t even gone all the way yet that you were already excited for the next time.

You watched him get back on his knees and smile at you tenderly, as if that would soften the effects of what he was about to do to you. You wanted to respond to his smile with your own but quickly forgot the idea when his fingers slid back in you, this time to part you open. In an instant, you were twisting and shaking in pleasure, feeling his flat tongue lick a long strip along your dripping folds. He was looking at you, you could feel his eyes on you, but it didn’t matter, not when you felt like you’d pass out from this alone.

Your hand dove into his black curls, pulling on them at each new lick from him. You could feel his organ invade your insides and suck on your slick covered flesh, sucking in your juices loudly. Your moans and cries of pleasure echoed around the room, competing against the sounds he was making while buried between your beautiful legs. The soft burn of his facial hair made you entire body shake, the feeling the beard leaving marks along your sensitive core and inner thigh.

If you could see yourself right now, you’d understand why his actions became frantic and practically desperate. The view of your body, arched to perfection to give him a view of your tits while he devoured you was ruining any kind of control he found pride in having. His cock was as hard as stone, leaking heavy drops of cum and begging to empty itself inside you. He’d never been this weak before, this sensitive to anyone. You were truly going to be it for him and his entire body was embracing the idea of submitting itself to you.

Pulling a finger out of you, Mitch licked the slick off of it and rubbed it around your clit, smiling against your core when you wrapped your legs around his neck and tightened your hold on him. He could choke to death in that instant and would be perfectly fine with it, ready to die if it was by your hands, or by your thighs if we were being accurate.

He let you grip onto his scalp and hold him still, pushing his tongue inside you while you fucked yourself on his face shamelessly. He could feel your insides wrap around him and drip sweetness all in his mouth. He had never felt that much while going down on a woman, but here you were, pushing him to his limits, making him moan praises and pleas for you to keep using him.

“M-Mitch ! Fuck, Mitch, God… I-I…” You tried to express what he already knew, feeling you pull away from him. Absolutely not, Mitch wasn’t having it. Not when you were right there, ready to pop. There was no way he was going to let you waste another opportunity for him to taste and smell you keep your scent etched into his growing beard.

He wrapped his large hands around your thighs and held you tight and as close as humanly possible to his face, letting you right your high on him. It took everything in him to not cum on the spot , God, you were killing him.

For the first time ever, you felt the pleasure of cumming with a man’s tongue pushed deep inside you. You felt like your organs were exploding in thousands of little fireworks, burning everything in their way slowly while you could only quiver and cry out for more. You could feel Mitch suck in your cum and feast on your sensitive core while you tried your best to survive what had just happened. Your legs felt like jello, deprived of strength and hanging loosely around the man’s shoulders in defeat.

In a sudden boost of submissiveness, you let out a little sound of pleasure, and ran your hand along your thighs and stomach before reaching your breasts that you squeezed vigorously. You knew he was watching, God, his gaze and attention was the only thing you wanted at the moment. You wanted him to watch you pleasure yourself to the memories of him and his tongue inside your pussy, already giving up freedom to give yourself to him. How addictive was sexual pleasure when you could actually fell it, right ?

While you played with your tits, pressing and pinching your sensitive nipples, his hands gripped on your but, tightening his hold around you possessively. A part of him had just started to wonder where you had learned such things. To him, you were still the girl he met through his annoying sister. Young and beautiful, taking shit from no one, and considered difficult by too many people to fond a boyfriend who would actually be worthy of her feelings and emotions.

She must’ve learned these things somewhere, with someone. Multiple someones even. And that thought made his blood boil and his ego fly up at the speed of a rocket. His long cock couldn’t stop vibrating at the thought of marking you inside out, making your pretty pussy as his and marking himself as yours.

To busy in his thoughts, scheming his little plan, he hadn’t noticed your eyes on him, and what you said next gave him what felt like a heart attack.

With your legs parted wide and your eyes barely opened, either out of exhaustion or lust (or both), you have him another look at your pussy, taking a life of its own and opening up under his insistant gaze.

“Mister Firefighter... Are you going to fuck me now ? I want to feel your cum drip inside my pussy… She wants a taste of you too…”

Mitch Rapp wasn’t a believer. Fairytails and hold folklore and mystical creatures, he didn’t care about them. But in that moment, you gave him the proof that sirens existed and that he was about to lose his life to one.

The next seconds turned into a blur, either because of how fast the events went or because you had managed to unlock pure desperation out of Mitch. He was quick in him movements, jumping on the bed and placing himself between your legs. He was already holding your wrists, pinned them to the mattress and kissed you as if his life depended on it. His tongue felt warm in your mouth, exploring all the surfaces in you and swallowing your soft moans at the same time.

Tasting your plump lips again, but more thoroughly this time, his body moved too. You could feel him rub the thick tip of his cock along your folds, smearing the drops of cum leaking out of him all over your gaping cunt.

His mouth descended towards your neck, biting pieces of flesh and sucking on the on his way down. His real target were your tits, soft sweet, ready to be devoured too. Mitch was slowly getting closer to a beast than a man with you under him. He’d never felt this kind of hunger before, desperate to taste all of you. He looked into your eyes, thinking about it for a second before dropping his face in the crook of your neck in a chuckle. He kissed on your skin tender, his fingers playing with your nipples as well.

You watched him kiss the valley of your breast and leave bite marks around your flesh. Your body was covered in them now. Just a little more and you might’ve actually been eaten alive. He grinded against you, both centers of your body heating up on the other and ready to truly feel it. His lips quickly found the center of your chest and sucked on them, his eyes entirely on your body while yours were on him.

Your hand found his hair again, caressing it tenderly while he enjoyed himself. It was supposed to be about studying your feelings and emotions but looked like Mitch was lost in his own. You pulled him away from your breasts, still breathing out little moans when his fingers went back to doing the work.

“Please Mitch… Don’t want to cum without you inside me… Please…” You pleaded softly, trying to form a coherent sentence while you could feel his throbbing cock begging for the same.

He caressed your face and smiled, sliding his hand around your neck and squeezing in a possessive grip.

“See what you do to me Sweetheart ? This was supposed to be about you but fuck… Fuck, I need to taste all of you… I have too many ideas for you, too much shit I want to do…” You exhaled, looking down on his own length and guiding the tip to play with your swollen folds. He kept teasing for a few seconds, enjoying the sounds you made when desperate, before stopping and leaning down and kissing your forehead. “Don’t worry Sunshine. You’ll get fucked properly in a second, I’m just making a list of what we’re trying out next.”

Your nod was instantly replaced by a gasp and your entire body shaking in a second. You looked down, seeing his fat cock push inside your dripping hole and felt yourself melt from the inside out. His width kept expanding, pushing your walls further apart. Despite being still, raised straight and holding your legs apart, you could feel his girth mold your pussy around him. He was truly ruining you flr everyone else.

When your breathing slowed down, he pulled out slowly, chuckling when you cried out in displeasure. His hand found your cheek to caress it tenderly before stuffing his tongue between your lips out of nowhere.

He repeated the motion, pulling out of you and sliding back in slowly before picking up a rhythm, the kind that left you speechless. As he started fucking into you, the sounds of his thighs slapping against yours started resonating louder and louder.

“M-Mitch ! Feels so… So good ! P-Please ! Please more ! More !” You moaned, your hands gripping on the sheets as if you were scared of falling down without them.

His own fingers dug into your soft flesh, his cock pounding harder into you each time you’d let him hear how good he made you feel. The sound of his name coming out of your mouth in the most obscene of symphony wasn’t just a boost to his ego, it all went straight to his heart and into his dick. There was something deadly about the vision of you, laying under him, taking his abuse of your pussy to perfection.

He leaned back, watching the way your pussy would swallow him whole, taking every inch of him and begging for more. None of his dreams could even compete with having you really here. He couldn’t even count the amount of time he’d dreamt of fucking you, no, making love to you. It could possibly be expected from a teenager, hell he even dreamt that his hands were yours when he needed relief. But a grown man having wet dreams about his sister’s best friend on her knees for him, that had to be weird.

“Good, Sunshine, good girl… Taking me to perfection… Greedy little pussy, you just wanted me to fuck you silly huh Sweetheart ? Wanted to feel my cock buried all the way inside your tiny body huh ? You needed me to make you feel better than good, answer me.” He groaned into your ear, wrapping his arms around your waist and moving your body at however he pleased.

“Y-Yes ! Yes, God, yes ! Yes, yes ! M-Make… Make me feel ! Please !” You sobbed, wrapping your legs around his waist tightly.

Better than a simple display of strength, Mister Firefighter was treating your body like it was made of plastic, light and ready to be filled to the brim. Was he crazy for wanting to see his cum drip down your thighs ? Maybe, maybe not. All he knew is that he’d give you exactly what you were asking for.

Moving your body effortlessly, he spun you around, laying you flat on your chest and raising your hips while he grabbed handfuls of your ass to guide you under him. He looked down on you, his hand caressing your exposed back and your nape. With your face buried in the pillows, back arched and presenting yourself to him, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

He leaned over you, moving his hand from your hips to your swaying breast that he grabbed and played with, squeezing vigorously. Raised your head, turning it slightly and facing him. His nose rubbed your cheek, inhaling your scent just like he was used to.

His breathing was loud and so were his soft moans of pleasure. He kissed you, as passionately as before, all the sounds coming from your body being swallowed by the other. You pulled away to breath in, your head getting cloudier by the second.

“Mitch, Mitch, Mitch, fuck ! Fuck, I-… I…”

He heard and understood you, being in a similar situation himself. His kisses on your neck started again, his warm palm founding your stomach and pressing into it. There it was, the feeling of his tip invading your entire being. He fucked into you harder, the sounds of his sack slapping against your cunt and probably making it even more sensitive. He was ruthless, fucking you like he had years of repressed desires to make up for.

He stood straight, still pounding the life out of your dripping pussy, and grabbed your ass again, parting it wide and viewing the way his cock would come in and out. If he could, he’d take pictures or even paint them himself from memory. There was no way he’d forget that vision now.

“I’m cumming too Sunshine… I’ll fill you up real nice, I promise…” He swore, throwing his head back and pushing himself just a little more, his release getting closer and closer.

“Yes, yes, yes ! Please, please give me ! Give me your cum Mitch, please ! Oh, God ! F-Feels so good ! Oh fuck ! Fuck, fuck, fuck !”

You were losing your mind, his balls slapping your sensitive skin and even reaching your clit. You were desperate for more, starved for it, so much so that you had even started pushing yourself towards him, meeting his thrusts and parting your legs even wider.

“My greedy little cum slut, fuck, I can’t… Can’t hold it Sweetheart…” He grunted loudly, making your pussy vibrate in submission around him.

Then, it came. The flood. For the first time, in your life, and the second (or third, your brain was too fuzzy to keep up) time tonight, you came around him while he was cumming into you. Hard and messy, you both coated the other of your arousal. It felt hot and was truly sipping through each corner of your insides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you collapsed into the pillows and took in every drop he let out inside you.

His own girth was getting soaked by your sweet juices. He watched his cum spill out of you and drip down your inner thighs, just like he had dreamt. He watched you, mesmerized by your submissiveness, his member jerking back to life when you tightened around him. He kept going back and forth into your canal, making sure that his cum wouldn’t go to waste.

You turned your face towards him, reaching for his lower stomach weakly. He groaned, smiling tenderly when you scraped his chest attempting to get him to stay still and with you. Your legs were still shaking and

“You need more already Sunshine ? Barely able to think straight and you already want more huh ?” He mocked playfully. You hid your face in the pillows and it was his turn to swoon internally. He leaned over your back, teasing you by slowly rolling his hips. “Don’t worry Sunshine. Mister Firefighter is going to give you as muck cock as you want.”

Mitch truly was a man of his words, and he was also a cuddler. After rounds after rounds, you had finally decided to stop, or at least, kind if stop.

Still buried deep inside you, he caressed your sides while you laid still and silent on top of his chest. After you had shown him you could ride him like a mechanic bull, he couldn’t let you escape that easily. His fingers felt good on you, soothing all of the pain you could feel. He did admit going a little too hard on you, but your face when overstimulated just… Irresistible.

You purred into the crook of his neck, kissing his collarbones and biting on them when you had the strength. You were content, you knew it, that was what joy felt like and you knew it thanks to the man kissing the crown of your head tenderly.

“I hope you’re aware that I’m not tolerating anymore running away Sweets. I’ll chase you all over the world if I have too. Be warned.”

You chuckled, raising yourself slightly to face him. You smiled, taking hold of his face and kissing his nose.

“You told me you loved me thirty minutes ago and you’re already okay with following me around the world ?”

“Obviously. I loved you since high school if you don’t remember. I was just waiting for you to stop running away here.”

“And all it took was for my workplace to catch on fire. Nice.” You mumbled against his chest.

You both laid there, in silence. Basking in the comfortable loving bubble you had both built around each other. Yeah, you were great.

“By the way, be careful when calling me Mister Firefighter. I might do something crazy like fuck you in uniform.”

#•°jin's 2k sleepover°•#•°birdie nonnie°•#mitch rapp x reader #mitch rapp imagine #mitch rapp x female reader #mitch rapp x you #mitch rapp x y/n #mitch rapp smut #mitch rapp #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien smut #dylan o'brien imagine #dylan o'brian x reader #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien #female reader #woc reader #black reader

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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

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I Missed You

Pairing; Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x female!reader

TW: none really, mention of pregnancy

Summary: Rooster is finally home and his two girls can't wait to see him. (Based on this request)

Word Count:1k

A/N: I’ll probably make a little mini series based on this because I love dad!brad so much. ALSO, respectfully I simply refuse to name Bradleys daughter carol/Caroline. I think he would stick wholeheartedly to his family weird little bird legacy and I love it

You're standing in the kitchen with your three-year-old daughter when your phone dings. Rooster has been away on a detachment for three months now and he's supposed to be getting back any minute. You wipe your hands on a towel and look at the screen with a bright smile. You drop down in front of your little girl and brush a stray hair away from her face.

"Guess who's home, Wren." You smile and her eyes light up. "Daddy!" She yells before taking off toward the front door. You stand back up and follow after her, equally excited to see your husband.

Rooster’s stood at your front door in his military fatigues and you watch your daughter launch into his embrace as he drops all his equipment on the ground. His arms wrap around her small frame and you feel your throat tighten. No matter how many homecomings you go through, you'll always get emotional. It's been hard ever since she was born. You knew the life you signed up for, but your daughter didn't get a say.

Rooster does his best though, calling when he can and sending gifts home from wherever he's stationed in the world. You stand back and let them have their moment with a hand placed over your heart. "Hey, Birdie. I missed you baby." You smile at the nickname that was given to Wren.

When she was born, Rooster had affectionately called her "little bird" and it just stuck. Over the years it slowly adapted into the shortened moniker. She's well known within the group and referred to by her "call sign" more than her regular name. You hear her small voice mumble into his neck and if possible, your heart grows even more. "I missed you too, daddy."

They stay like that for another minute before he sets her down and opens his arms up with an expectant look. You grin like a madman as you follow in your daughter's footsteps, quickly jumping up and wrapping your body around Roosters.

You feel him squeeze you in his broad arms and he nuzzles into your neck while he spins you around. "I missed you so fucking much." You place a chaste kiss on the side of his neck before pulling back and slowly capturing his mouth with yours. "I missed you more."

He shakes his head with a smile and gives you another quick kiss. "How's my chick been?" He asks and you roll your eyes playfully at the pet name. When you and Rooster first started dating, his team had called you chicken little to mess with him. It started as a joke but over time you became "little chick" and now it's usually just "chick".

"I've been good, just taking care of your little clone." You answer before hopping down, careful not to land on your daughter who is clinging to your husband's legs. He nods his head and looks down at his little girl.

She really is a carbon copy of him. She's got the same sandy curls and hazel eyes as him and from the moment she developed a personality she acted just like her daddy.

She's also a people person and loves playing the piano for a crowd. Those Bradshaw genes run deep and they've been best friends since the moment he laid eyes on her.

"Why don't we head inside? I'm just finishing up lunch." You suggest and Rooster agrees while picking up Wren. He carries her inside and the three of you spend the afternoon eating and laughing before it's time to get the little one ready for bed.

Rooster always handles bedtime when he's home and Wren loves every second. He always lets her stay in the bath a little longer and picks an extra book to read.

Once he tucks her into bed and kisses her goodnight, he makes his way into your shared bedroom. You're sitting on the bed in your pajamas when he walks in and you smile up at him.

He gets himself ready and climbs in next to you wearing nothing but boxers and your eyebrow quirks. "What are you up to Lieutenant?" You tease but your husband's face is serious. You snuggle into him and he pulls you into his strong chest.

"Are you okay?" You ask with concern laced in your voice and he nods. It's silent for a few minutes and he finally speaks. "I think we should have another one."

You pull back to look at him with a frown, trying to get a read on his expression. "Another what?" You ask and he leans forward to kiss your forehead. "Another little bird." Your eyebrows shoot up at the confession and you feel your lips quirk.

"You want another baby?" You clarify and he nods his head. "Yeah. I've been thinking about it and I want her to have a sibling. Her friends are always moving away, she needs someone consistent."

You ponder for a second and break into a wide smile. "Okay." You see your husband smirk and he observes your face for any sign of humor. "Okay?" He asks and you run your fingers along his defined jaw.

"Mmhm. I've wanted another one for a while, I just hadn't found the right time to bring it up." You whisper and Rooster's face looks like it might split in two. "We're going to have to think of more bird names." He remarks and you roll your eyes.

"You and your damn birds. I just told you I want you to get me pregnant and that's what you're thinking about?" You quip and his eyes darken before raking over your body. "Not anymore." He growls and you squeal as he flips you over so he's on top of you. What an interesting turn of events.

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@drakelover78

@manyfandomsfanvergent

@ssprayberrythings

@disturbedbeautywrites

@desert-fern

@one-sweet-gubler

Click here to be added!

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #Bradley bradshaw fluff #rooster top gun #Bradley Bradshaw topgun #rooster x reader #rooster imagine #rooster fluff #dad!bradley bradshaw #top gun fluff

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yelenasfloppyhand · 22 days

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Hi! I saw that your requests are open! I was wondering if you could write a Jason Gideon x Reader where Gideon has insecurities and gets jealous easily (because there's an age gap and because the reader is drop dead gorgeous). If you could also add the reader reassuring him and telling him everything the reader feels for him (in the context that all that hadn't been spoken out loud yet) that would be awesome.

If you don't want to write this fanfic then that's totally okay! If you do write it though, please tag me, because I really don't want to miss that!

Have a lovely day! <3

Thank you so so much for the amazing request @leylovestaytay I hope I was able to execute this in the way you wanted it to be.

Jason Gideon × gn!reader

Summary: he's jealous and you aren't sure why, until you confront him about his feelings.

Warnings: none? Age gap mention.

"What was that?" Your normally cheerful tone suddenly shifted, a small scowl now apparent on your usually smiling face. As you and the kind detective were casually joking with one another during the investigation of a case, Gideon suddenly interjected, making a sharp comment that you both should be working rather than 'sitting on your asses and talking.'

You watched as his brows furrowed in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What was what?" he asked in genuine confusion, as if his behavior thirty minutes ago was either normal or hadn't even happened at all. With his arms crossed over his casual t-shirt and blue overshirt, he looked like any other guy. The fact that someone as well known as Jason Gideon dressed so casually was impressive, comforting, and helped you to see him not as some revered criminal profiler, but as just another person.

"What is wrong with you today? You normally don't care when I sit back and take a break, in fact you encourage taking a break from working. So I'll ask you again what was that?" Your tone felt unnatural and uncomfortable on your tongue, almost like a bitter taste that won't go away.

"Nothing is wrong with me today." Unusually he doesn't defend himself, infact you would almost think he was completely innocent if you hadn't witnessed the event it's self. "Did I do something wrong, did I upset you?" You ask, almost hesitantly.

This time when his eyebrows furrow they take on a more horrified expression. "Why do you think you did something wrong?" He sighs slightly, clearly upset by your assumption that you'd done something to upset him. In his eyes you were perfect, to him you had no flaws, to him it was like aphrodite had sculpted you herself. But that was the problem, you unintentionally were his problem, you were gorgeous and young, full of life even. And that absolutely terrified him, he'd been held at gunpoint, he'd watched people die and yet nothing terrified him more than his own feelings.

You shrug, "I don't know. You just seem..." You find it hard to search for the correct words to display how you truly feel, and the truth is that you don't know how you feel, of course you know, but you don't actually know. You know that you would do anything for the man in front of you, you know that you would give your life for his, that if the chance arose you would love him -if he let you-.

"Upset? At you?" He asks with a soft almost sad smile. He sighs "Oh Birdie" you could feel your lips twitch at the nickname. Once he'd invited you round to his apartment for dinner as a thank you for saving his ass on a case, and you'd asked about a book on his shelf about birds, he had spent a good half an hour talking about his love for birds, which were his favourite and why. So for his 49th birthday you'd painted him a watercolour bird, you'd never seen him tear up before that moment, he had felt truly touched by the gesture, he treasured the painting even going as far as to keep it on his desk next to pictures of his son.

"What?.." You fiddled nervously with the button of your cardigan. His saddened look at the way in which he softly uttered your nickname caused butterflies to arise in your stomach, this wasn't an unfamiliar feeling when you were around him, in fact you'd become accustomed to the feeling each time you made eye contact, or each time he uttered your name. This time however it felt different, like the stars had aligned in the midnight sky.

"I'm not upset at you, honestly it would take a lot for you to even annoy me. It's not you" His words feel heavy, like they sink in the air before my brain absorbs them.

"What is it then?" You ask with perplexed expression, you felt genuinely lost.

He lets out a chuckle, nervousness painting his features as his lips pull up onto a smile. "It's not you I'm upset at, I guess I'm upset at myself." He frowns slightly before staring at a nearby tree. "Did you know that birds are monogamous?" He asks casually.

"... I didn't" you respond slowly. "I'm sorry I don't really understand where this is going, unfortunately I lack social skills." Although it wasn't a joke you were certain it sounded like one.

"After I divorced my wife Jill I had assumed that was it, that I'd never be able to find love again because of this job. It felt wrong... the way you made me feel, the way you make me feel. I hate it, but I love it and I know I shouldn't. You're not exactly someone a man my age should be attracted to." He sounds almost ashamed by his own words and feelings, like he gets stabbed in the heart with each word he says.

"I'm 38... I'm hardly young." You laugh finding it almost funny, of course you aren't laughing at him, but almost the irony, you'd often told yourself that it wasn't right to be attracted to your boss, the man was not only your superior but also older than you. "I'm still lost... about the bird thing." You admit sheepishly.

He chuckles before continuing. "I thought that I was a bird, that I would only ever have the experience of love once, that I would only be granted the experience of being loved. What I'm trying to say... is that I think I would like to love you." He seems confused at his own words, his eyes closing with a sigh as he drops his head to his chest.

"... is that why you told me off earlier?" You ask with a small smirk.

"I didn't like that guy, he kept staring at you like a piece of meat." Gideon frowns, in all honesty he was annoyed that the man was making you smile, he felt annoyed when he realised that you could have anyone in thr word that you wanted, after all the detective was closer to your age.

"Oh my god you're jealous" you laugh. "The Jason Gideon who is as cool as a cucumber was jealous of some detective." You throw your head back as you laugh. He began to chuckle along side you, the sond was like a song from the heavens. Your laughs mixing together beautifully.

"I would like to love you too." You admit comfortably.

Note: I am really sorry if this isn't well written or up to a good enough standard (I actually don't have an excuse I'm just a bad writer 😭)

#jason gideon x reader #jason gideon #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader

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kayadrake123 · 2 years

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Random Tim Drake relationship headcanons

Tim Drake x GN!Reader

Tim definitely plays guitar, electric guitar to be exact. He owns at least 3, but his favourite is a light blue one that was gifted to him by Bruce as a welcome gift after his adoption.

He likes to play you songs while you’re both on a break from work and just chilling out in his room. Sometimes you fall asleep to his playing, which causes him to resort to playing his guitar whenever he can see you’re having trouble falling asleep.

You sometimes ask him to learn specific songs just so you can hear what he sounds like playing them. And as he is in everything he does, he plays it fucking perfectly.

Tim isn’t a big reader. He actually despises reading cause he just can’t force himself to get through the first few pages. All the words end up giving him a headache (mainly because he never wears his glasses but we’ll get to that later)

He does however enjoy hearing you speak about the books you read if you’re a reader. He also really enjoys listening to you read to him, as your voice soothes him and he thinks it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Most times when you read to him, he lays on your stomach with his eyes closed as you brush your hand through his hair, your legs tangled together.

Tim is obsessed with his s/o’s voice. He loves when you say his name and the way you say certain words (especially if you have an accent). He thinks it’s the most angelic thing ever known to man. You have the ability to calm him down by just opening your mouth and letting him hear your beautiful voice (that and he’d rather drop dead than not do what his s/o tells him).

TIM DRAKE WEARS GLASSES. There I said it. He doesn’t need to wear it all the time, but he especially needs them when he needs to read. All the late nights in the dark staring at a computer screen really does take a toll on your eyesight. He looks goddamn adorable in his glasses (and fucking hot ;) ) If you wear glasses, he thinks it makes you ten times hotter :))

Tim can be fucking cold. Man is calm and friendly (not overly cause he’s emo) and really down to earth most of the time, but when someone really pisses him off, oooooh boy.

He’s the type of person who doesn’t need to raise his voice to hurt you, his words cut deep enough bro. Like he’s really sarcastic half of the time, but in a fight his sarcasm is intensified with the intent of making you hurt badddd bro. He doesn’t mean to do it, it just happens in the heat of the moment.

He also tends to distance himself when he’s beyond pissed off with you, like he doesn’t trust himself around you not to say really hurtful things. It isn’t the case with everyone else, but he eventually allows you to try and get him to talk to you again. With his friends and family he snaps at them for trying, but again, you bring out a calmness in him.

Tim will only ever drink black coffee.

Man is super touchy. Like at the beginning of your relationship he wasn’t as affectionate due to him having a lack of physical affection in his life from his parents, but the more he became comfortable with you, the more his hands began to roam ;)

He prefers physical touch over words of affirmation for himself as he has a hard time speaking about his feelings. When he does say words of affirmation, it’s completely random but makes you melt all the same.

He likes taking pictures of you like a mom does with their kids. He can’t help it, he just thinks you’re fucking beautiful and amazing and wow.

His whole family loves you, but you’re closest to Cass, Steph and Duke. They just really enjoy your company and often try to steal you away from Tim, which annoys him.

His nicknames from you consist of “Timmy”, “Duckie”, “Birdy” and loads more

He loves to call you nicknames that have a link to a funny or cute experience he’s had with you. People always find it so cute when you explain it to them.

He’s so soft with you. His touch, the way he looks at you and speaks to you. He’s so delicate when it comes to you and he’s so in love.

#tim drake #batfam x reader #tim drake x reader #tim drake x you #tik drake angst #Tim Drake fluff #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #duke thomas #dc comics #batman #jason todd x reader #dick grayson x reader #bruce wayne x reader

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buckyscombatboots · 2 years

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Monstertober Day 3:

The Scarecrow walks at midnight

Pairing: Scarecrow!Ari Levinson x Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, serious Non con, death, mentions of blood, asphyxiation/choking, bruises (not the kinky kind), Beefy!Ari (6,8ft), size difference, held down, chasing, p in v

Nicknames: Song bird, birdie

Word count: 2.3k

༻𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭🎀 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫༺

AN: My apologies that this is a bit late, I had some health issues yesterday which really messed up my whole day. I ended up changing it from Headless horseman!Bucky to Scarecrow!Ari, because I had such bad writers block when trying to write it. I hope y’all enjoy and like all the Goosebumps references ♥︎

You pull up to The Stanley's farm, you’d know the Stanley’s for a long time. Everyone in this town knew everyone, that’s how it always been. Which is why, when Natasha sent you texts saying to come find her in a corn maze. You knew this was where she was talking about and despite the fact that it was technically closed right now, you knew the Stanley’s wouldn’t mind. You hopped out of the warmth of your car and into the autumn night. You loved the countryside, but you hated the fact that there were no lights. You only had the stars and the moon to guide you as you stumbled across the rocky path towards the corn maze.

It wasn’t far, you could see the sign, but you could also see a foreboding wooden cross standing outside the corn maze that you’d never seen before. You stopped in front of the wooden cross, running your fingers across the red paint chipping off the splintering wood. There’s nails with shreds of fabric still tangled around the posts; there was something hung up here at some point, a scarecrow more likely than not “The shity neighbourhood kids probably ripped it off” you huff “Always ruining everything, they threw paint in the plaza fountain only last week.” You drag your hand to the apex of the cross, it’s warm. Peculiar. You brush it off, despite your uncertainty, and look back at the text Natasha sent you.

I’m in the corn maze

Bet you can’t find me, scaredy-cat 👻🐈‍⬛

She had some nerve calling you a scaredy-cat, who in their right mind wouldn’t be scared to go alone into a bloody corn maze at midnight. It was pitch black, aside from the piercing light of the moon that parted the slate clouds that drifted across the inky, velvet blanket of the sky.

You stand infront of the en tree dance of the corn maze. It’s marked by an ornate metal sign, with chipping discoloured paint ‘Stanley’s Corn Maze’ it said in a faded orange paint. It felt like the beginning of a horror movie. Two friends enter a corn maze at night, now you just need a killer.

“Natashaaaaa” you sing “where are youuuuuu?” You’d been walking for what felt like forever, your phone was only on 4%. Nerves were starting to prickle in your belly “Come on I can’t find you! I give up okay so let’s go! I wanna watch a scary movie. Oooo maybe we can watch ‘Stay out of the Basement’ that’s meant to be good.” You hear the rustling of the dying corn leaves being pushed aside behind you, but still no reply from Natasha “Nat, if you’re trying to scare me it ain’t gonna work. I can hear you.” You spin around on your heel. It was not Natasha.

It was a man, he looked to be well over six foot tall. From where you were standing he was an Adonis; a halo of blonde hair and bulging muscle. He stepped closer, you remained still.

In the moon's pale light you could see the dirty blonde hair, tousled and scruffy with loose bits of hay and dirt tangled in his locks. He had a thick beard and moustache, but the glow from the moon still allowed you to see his prominent cheekbones. His firm chest strained against the thin fabric of his red, plaid shirt. You could see the contour of his torso and arms, he was covered in muscle and towering over you. As he stepped closer, further into the moonlight, you could see his face clearer; there were two messy stitches on either side of his mouth, clotted blood surrounding the punctures and strands of hay protruding from his skin. As he neared closer. You stumbled backwards. Fresh blood coated his thick, veiny arms all the way up to his sleeves rolled at his elbows, the cloth of his sleeves stained and dripping “Where are you going little bird? I want you to sing for me.” The stitched corners of his lips stretched into a smile as he lunged forward at you, his heavy body's ungraceful movements allowed you to dart past him into the thicket of corn. Your hands guarded your face defensively as you dashed through the corn, the brown, aged husks and leaves whipping at your exposed skin “Birdie! I’m gonna find you!” His bellowing voice pierced through the deafening sound of your blood rushing in your head.

You paused as your foot treads on something squishy, yet firm, you turn your gaze to the floor. Natasha. She’s beaten and bloody, clothes torn and her head appears to almost be severed from her shoulders “Nat��” you whimper, her eyes are still open. You hear the jostling of corn. You have no time to close them as you take off again, the bleak night air drowning you as you gulp it down like a fish. The burning tears dripping from your eyes burn your icy skin, you turn your head back to try to see him. He’s not there. You practically jump out of your skin as you hear a loud crack of thunder rumble around you, then cold drops of rain begin to fall. The drops that sprinkle across your skin send goosebumps across your skin, your hairs prickling to a point as you shiver.

You need to keep running, despite your exhaustion you find it within you to keep going. You can hear the corn rattling around you from every direction, you were so disorientated. As you jogged through the maze you reached down to your pocket to search for your dying phone, that’s when all hope drained from you. You’d dropped your fucking phone. The rain began to pick up, turning from a light dusting to harsh, thick droplets that fell with such speed that it hurt your skin. You came to a halt in a patch of newly formed mud, what were you meant to do? You felt doomed, you could no longer restrain the sobs that left you, lip wobbling as you choked on your sorrows.

One second you're standing, the next you’re tackled to the ground. Your shoulder collides with the sludgy earth and air catches in your lungs as you let out a choked yelp. You smash your hands into the Scarecrow's strong chest as you writhe against his fierce grip, he only needs one of his hands to overpower you and pin your hands above your head. You’re forced to look at him atop of you. His hair is glued to his forehead with sweat and the moonlight causes the thin sheen covering his skin to glitter like tiny diamonds. He bends closer to you, hot puffs of air from his heavy breathing suffocating you. He presses his face into the crook of your neck; the bristly hairs of his beard scratching against your neck as he licks at your neck, he shoved his nose into your hair and takes a long deep breathe in “Smell so good birdie, better than other woman. Ari’s gonna give you pleasure now.” You thrash against him kicking at him, he ignores it and bends one of your legs over his shoulder, “Lie still, Song bird, gonna make you feel so nice.” He grunts as you kick at his face, catches your ankle in his free hand and squeezes. His grip strength is inhuman. You shriek as you feel your bones creaking against the pressure he applies, your bones threaten to snap.

“Stop! Stop! I won’t kick you please!” You scream, the agony sending shocks across your nerves and to your brain, a dull ache lingering in your skull. He lets go of your ankle and lands a powerful punch to your gut, grit your teeth and grunt “Oof!” acidic sickness rising in your throat, you swallow it.

“Other girl wouldn’t stop screaming. Squeezed her too hard. Always squeeze too hard, it was an accident. Not gonna squeeze as hard with you, Birdie, like you, like your voice, like your scent. Want you alive.” His large hand tears your shorts and panties with one pull, the display petrified you but it also made your pussy drip. He ran two fingers through your fold, collecting some of your slick and bringing it to his mouth. He sucked his fingers clean of your cream, releasing his fingers with a loud pop “Taste so good. Need to fuck you.” Ari grumbled, undoing his jeans, releasing his member that slapped against his clothed stomach. It was long and ribbed with a thick purple vein running up the shaft and patch of pale blonde hair dusted his pelvis.

You moved your hips away from him. He hooks his calloused hand under your knee quickly and pulls you closer “No riggling, Birdie. Don’t wanna hurt you.” The fear freezes you in place and he takes the chance to thrust all the way inside you, smashing into your cervix causing you scream out and thrash as his dick crams uncomfortable inside you, he’s too big. You can feel the rubbed texture of his cock as your walls clamp harshly in an attempt to push him out. He pistons his hips without a care, unbothered by your body's feeble attempt at rejection. Your shrieks appear to fall upon death ears until he lifts you slightly by your wrists and then slams you back into the ground. Your brain rattles in your skull as your head hits the floor; a pounding pain throbs across the back of your head, and you look at him with a bewildered expression.

“No, Birdie, you’re meant to sing nicely. No screaming, or I’ll squeeze.” His scratchy knuckles brushes away the tears flowing down your cheeks. You nod and whimper, fighting the pain and letting out soft ‘oh’s and ‘ah’s as he continued his brutal pace, bending closer to you pushing your legs into you, angling your hips so he could thrust even deeper. Spearing you all the way to the hilt of his girthy length, you let out a guttural cry as he grunted and groaned in response to his own wild thrusts. Heat spread across your back as his pelvis rubbed against your clit “Tight.” He growled, pressing a kiss to your temple, he smelt strongly of hay and dirt, but underneath that strong scent of petrichor was a uniquely manly musk. Your pleasure was interrupted as his hand released your wrists, he slammed his fist into the ground, snarling as he thrusted. The hand holding your knee squeezed extremely tightly, you could feel bruises forming under his touch.

“Ow! Ari! Squeezing too tight!” You yowled, he was going to snap your knee. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, his pace slowed; his hips stuttering as he came to a stop entirely.

“Sorry, SongBird. Won’t squeeze anymore.” For a man…Scarecrow who was raping you he was being surprisingly considerate. He rubbed the pad of his thumb against your reddened cheeks soothingly before pulling out all the way to his tip before ramming back into you, hard enough for your body to slide around in the mud below you. Your lungs burn and your throat is raw. You bite back a scream when his bulbous tip collided with your cervix once again “Close. So close. Sing! Sing for me Birdie!” You whimper and let out an involuntary moan as his cock rubs the sweet spot within you. His barred teeth soften into a smile at your moans, his free hand comes to neck and he begins to squeeze. You remember Natasha, the way her head laid in a pool of blood. How you could barely see any remnants of her neck. You began to thrash once again, Ari ignored you, lost in his own pleasure. You could feel his cock twitching inside, in your mind you pleaded for him to come. For it to be over. His thrusts quickened even more, his hips bashing painfully into your ass. The sound of his balls slapping against your skin overpowering the crackle of thunder. He threw his head back and let out a full bodied groan, which resembled a roar as he came inside you. The ropes of his come were cold, just like his whole body-ice cold, the amount of his spend was unrelenting. He released your neck, you let out a series of cough thanking God for answering you as took deep breaths of air. You’d never been so grateful to be able to breathe.

Ari still hadn’t pulled out, he was still hard. Your pussy was rubbed raw from his pubic hair, and your clit ached painful from the force of his pelvis colliding with it. Then his thrusts continued. He wanted to go again. You clawed at him and he pinned you again “Bad Birdie, not done yet.” He murmured. You stared up at the moon as it mocked you, moving so freely through the sky. You curse the moon for letting him come alive. Your thoughts begin to fade as you just gaze up at the moving clouds heavy with more rain.

Resistance was futile. So you just laid there taking it. You close your eyes, your head was heavy from the adrenaline crash. You hoped sleep would take you, and it did.

The orange, pink tinge of sunset colours your vision as you open your eyes. Your ears are ringing, a piercing static reverberating in your skull. Your eyes sting and your throat is strained and scratchy. You push your hands beside you, they sink into the mud slightly as you sit up. A dull pain radiates throughout the apex of your thighs and legs, the bruises that litter them clear in the garish glow of the orange morning sun. You look around you, there’s hay scattered across the ground and beside you is the Scarecrow, face down in the mud your phone beneath his freakishly human hands. The baritone sound of his voice echoes in your mind as you pull your phone out and turn it on. 1% battery…Better call the right person.

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