#just move on or forget him in anyway. needed to keep a piece of him for himself and the rest of his days. but ofc vash lives and wolfwood | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thebeesatemyknees · 8 months

Text

141 as ex-husbands

Some ex-husband (ooc) Simon Ghost Riley, John Price, Kyle Gaz Garrick and Johnny Soap MacTavish x reader headcanons.

Word count: 860 || No warnings (let me know if any). || Reader: gender neutral. Pronouns: "you"

Note: In all four scenarios, you got divorced for fairly harmless reasons. You were getting along, you loved each other, there was no fighting. But perhaps you realised that you both have different hopes for the future. Maybe you got sick of waiting for him, missing him, of worrying if he's gonna come home alive and in one piece. Maybe he didn't realise how lonely you felt beside him.

Ex-husband Simon Riley, who still thinks of you as "his", but not in a possessive way. You're still his person, his family. He still would do anything for you and wouldn't even give it a second thought.

You need help assembling new furniture? He can come by after work. Need a ride to the doctor's appointment? He needed to run some errands anyway, it's not a big deal. Anything happens while he's deployed? You can call his base and he'll contact you as soon as possible.

And he doesn't expect anything back. How could he? He's gonna do anything for you because that's what you're supposed to do for your people. And he'll give you your space, keep it clean between you. You wanted a divorce and he respects that, doing his best not to overstep any boundaries. He's mindful of the things he says, keeps his hands away from you. A respectful distance.

But God, does he miss you. If you showed the slightest interest in getting back together, he would agree immediately, going back to what you two had, as if the divorce never happened.

Ex-husband John Price, who kinda forgets that you're not married anymore. Similar to Simon, John still thinks of you as his and would do anything for you without expecting anything back.

But you often have to remind him that he's overstepping. "Darling" or "love" casually added to his sentences. Hands gently holding your shoulders or hips while he directs you to move to a different spot. He doesn't do it on purpose. The last thing he'd want is to disrespect your boundaries or make you uncomfortable. But keeping you close just comes so naturally to him.

He apologises quietly when you reprimand him, pulling his hands away and restating what he said without the pet name this time.

He wouldn't beg you to give him another chance. He's got enough respect, towards you and himself, to not be dramatic, to not make it messy. But he has a hard time accepting this new reality.

Ex-husband Kyle Garrick, who subconsciously goes back to courting you, as if your marriage never happened and all of it was still ahead of you.

He's more distant, doesn't initiate touches, doesn't use pet names anymore. And at first you think it's because that's just how break-ups work, because he'd moved on. But it all seems to be caused by him suddenly becoming almost shy around you.

He sends you messages from time to time, checking if you're doing alright. He asks you out for coffee, just to catch up. You ended things on good terms, so there's no harm in it, right? And you can see him trying to act casually about it. He brings you one singular flower he picked on his way to the café. Cuz you like them, don't you? It's not a big deal, he saw it and put it in the pocket of his jacket. So casual. Then, your conversation stays on a purely platonic path. Well, except for a few compliments and pick up lines he throws your way. But that's what friends do! And if you don't let him drive you home, he asks you to at least text him to let him know you got back safely.

If you confront him about his behaviour, he gets quiet. His jaw twitches, a shameful look fills his eyes as he looks away, unable to fully face you. He doesn't feel like he's in the position to defend himself, to argue. He's guilty. He wants you back for himself. And he so badly regrets letting you go without trying harder to fix things.

Ex-husband Johnny MacTavish, who becomes bitter towards the whole world. He's not happy about losing you and he's straightforward about it. He's hurt, filled with regrets, he's angry - but not directly at you. He understands and respects your wishes, but he's just so angry with himself. Angry that he didn't notice where your marriage was going, that he didn't change his ways, that he assumed that you're his and therefore he's got a lot of time to slowly fix things. Angry that he didn't do enough.

He wouldn't hide his emotions. He wouldn't get shy, wouldn't just quietly yearn for you.

He keeps his hands to himself, making sure he doesn't make you uncomfortable and that you still feel safe around him. But he continuously asks you for another chance. He knows better now. He can be better. Just give him a chance. Or at least let him do this or that for you. And don't act as if him helping you is weird! He's yours, nothing will change that. He promised he'd be there in sickness and in health, and he meant it. No matter how much your life-paths split. So stop pushing him away and just let him help. He'll stop asking you for a second chance, but at least let him be there for you.

He aggressively offers himself to you. Getting upset and moody if you act as if he was more akin to a stranger rather than someone who belonged, body and soul, to you.

3K notes · View notes

imfinereallyy · 1 year

Text

“Dad is going to be very angry,” El says with wide eyes taking in the scene before them.

“You think Hop will kill him?” Steve says as he leans against the doorway, eating a Twizzler.

El looks at Steve momentarily, sticking her hand out for some candy. Steve hands her one without hesitation. El rips a piece off before speaking. “Oh yes. He might ask you to help hide the body.”

Steve nods solemnly, “I’ll do what needs to be done. Mikes’s my least favorite child anyway.”

“Hey!” Mike yells, gaining the duo's attention. It brings them back to the scene they walked in on. Mike and Will, with the door closed (no three inches in sight) on top of each other, making out.

Steve doesn't think he’ll ever get that image out of his brain.

“Chill, Wheeler, I'm joking,” Steve says pointedly before turning to El and mouthing no, I'm not.

El giggles, and Steve can't help but feel like he won a prize at the sound.

“I'm sorry, El.” Will blushes with shame, like he is betraying his sister somehow.

El just shrugs, “I do not care. But Dad might. He hates Mike.”

Steve snorts, “That's the understatement of the century. I don't think Hop has ever hated someone’s partner like he has Mike. Honestly, I was surprised he liked Eddie. I mean like is a strong word. But he tolerates him.”

Will pipes up, “I think he does mostly because he knows you'll move out, and he only just got you to agree to stay here.”

Steve shrugs, “I’ll take what I can get. At least he doesn't walk on me having sex.”

“We weren't having sex!” Mike practically screams. Hands up exasperated. “And don't talk about you and Eddie; it's gross.”

Will blushes deeply with head in his hands, “Oh, God.” El pats him on the shoulder in sympathy.

“Also, this wouldn't have happened if you weren't an idiot and just knocked!” Mike stomps. Jesus, this kid is 15 acting 6.

“I was the one who walked in, Mike. I wanted to know if Will wanted to watch a movie.” El says coldly, getting defensive of her brother.

Mike clams up, Steve can't help but feel smug.

“Who’s having sex?!?” A distinct Hopper-like voice echoes through the house.

Will and Mike share a panicked look while Steve and El take more Twizzlers from the bag.

“Oh no. Mike! What are we going to do?”

Mike sputters, “He doesn't have to know it was us! And we weren't having sex!”

Will looks at him like Mike is the biggest moron he's ever met. Steve loves the kid (despite early protest) but has to agree. “Oh gee Mike, I wonder who he will think it was about. Steve? Who is dating a man who isn't here and keep in mind, it's Steve. Who is our brother, and five years older than us? And in a relationship? And let's not forget..is Steve?!”

“This is fair.” Steve agrees. If anyone but Baby Byers had attempted to say that, Steve would have been pissed. But it's Will, so it's coming from a good place.

“Also! Also! The other person here is El! Who is my sister! Not to mention your ex—”

“—well it could have been—”

“Micheal Steven Wheeler, if the next words out of your mouth are it could have been you and El, I will never be kissing you again.” Will uses a deathly tone. Steve isn't convinced he didn't get from El.

“Your middle name is Steven?” Steve fills giddy.

“Shut up Steve!”

Will pinches his brows, “And you idiot, if it were you and El, you would still he toast.”

Steve whistles, “Shit, Will. Next time I need to win an argument against Eddie. I'm coming to you.”

“How long does it take for dad to get upstairs?” El interrupts.

All of them look down the hall. “Huh, maybe we are in the clear,” Mike whispers.

“I said who is having sex?!?” Hopper comes thundering up the stairs.

“I think this is what Max calls a jinx.” El looks at Mike unphased.

Steve can't help but feel a little bad for Will. He looks panicked around the room, probably looking for a hiding place. Steve knows that it isn't that same fear Will once had of Lenny, Hop wouldn't hurt them ever, but he can't help but feel a little protective of him. Steve knows all too well how the fears of biological fathers can sneak up on you, even if you know you're safe. “Don’t worry, Will. I'll make sure Hop takes it easy.”

Will relaxes, “Thanks Steve.”

“What about me?” Mike asks, eyes wide.

El shares a look with Steve. Spending as much time as they have lately has allowed them to talk without speaking most of the time. It freaks everyone but Robin out (she gets it). Seconds go by before they both nod in agreement.

Steve and El both wip their heads towards Mike, and Steve says, “You were grossed out by my relationship and called me stupid. Suffer.”

Mike's outcry is in synch with Hop breaking through screaming, “There better be three inches!”

#steddie #byler #this is just about Steve and el bonding #steve teaching El the best way to beat mean girls is to be one #eleven hopper #steve Harrington #stranger things #Eddie munson #mike wheeler #will byers #Steve Harrington and El hopper have a sibling relationship #found family #my writing #ficlet #mean girl steve harrington #fluff #fanfiction #jim hopper

3K notes · View notes

stargirlfics · 1 year

Text

IRON

got a request awhile back for Battinson + pussy eating and l couldn’t resist!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, size/strength kink, slight exhibitionism, reader is a bit of a brat! smut: oral (reader receiving), manual restraints, praise kink, body worship, mask kink

Word Count: 2.5k

One could hardly say it was your fault.

Bruce had left you here, in the Tower, all by your lonesome. You couldn’t be to blame, it was simple as that.

Though you didn’t protest his departure (you knew how important his work for the city was, how he’d answer that beacon shining high in Gotham’s stormy skies whenever it appeared) you also couldn’t help but sulk and pout about missing him.

He could be out there all night and as selfish and indulgent as it was, you had plans, ones that involved as minimal amount of clothing as possible and his lips on yours, these desires being something you had started to tell him when it became clear he was needed in the city tonight instead.

You could only hope the slight pinching grip of his hands on your waist as he left you with a tender kiss to your cheek meant he wouldn’t forget about your needs.

It was raining now, just a little under a steady downpour and time seemed to move entirely too slow, barely an hour having passed with your next glance at the large grandfather clock in the foyer.

Huffing a sigh, you wandered over to the bookshelves lining the alcoves in Wayne Tower’s main room, browsing amongst a few of your favorite novels that had found a new home here before you were pulling one off the shelf and snagging an old throw blanket, heading downstairs to Bruce’s hidden workspace to curl up in your usual spot and wait for his return.

Funny, how casual this felt, like it was any other weekend night but most people in Gotham weren’t waiting up for the vigilante they called a lover to come home were they? And yet it was exactly where you wanted to be.

For better or worse you were tied to Bruce and therefore tied to The Batman, swiftly coming to fall for both, to want both and all of who Bruce is, even when he made you worry.

He promised both you and Alfred that he’d be careful and did every time he went out but he knew you would worry anyways, neither of you asking the other to change, loving each other too much to ask of it.

Somehow you fashioned another fitting piece to the ever shifting puzzle that was Bruce Wayne and you weren’t going to trade it for the world.

The descent below ground brought a change in temperature, cool chilly air sweeping across your skin once you stepped onto the expanse of the abandoned terminus.

But the familiarity of it and the blanket draped over your shoulders was doing a fine job at keeping you warm, and the sleeping bats hanging above you were a fond presence with how much time you spent down here now.

You were right at home.

Curled up on the sofa tucked into one of the spare corners in the workspace you chewed at the nail of your thumb, finding that the novel you’d chosen wasn’t helping your antsy, increasingly needy mood.

The novel bordered on erotic and it made you squirm, heat creeping up from your chest to settle in your cheeks, your thighs pressing together without thought.

Mind wandering, dreaming of a steamy kiss, of being scooped up by him and made to feel good, the ache in your core finally being sated.

You kept reading into the midnight hour, eventually unable to stop thinking of the details, his towering form, large, strong, and sure hands that gripped and held you so sweetly, so tightly, and how good it felt to be taken apart by him too.

Bruce was unassuming like that, shy and reserved, awkward even, until he wasn’t, making it a point to discover all the ways he could fluster you, make you whine, and beg for him again and again.

He was good at it too, had gotten especially skilled with that smart and stubborn mouth of his, and tonight, that’s what you wanted most.

Wanted to grind yourself against his lips, his tongue, your clit bumping against his nose until your brain went quiet and all you could feel was the pulsing of the pleasure he loved giving you.

Distracted by your fantasies you almost missed the soft whirring of the terminus gate opening, the book dropping closed in your lap when you realized he was back.

It was late in the night now, it had been hours but you never felt more energized, letting the blanket pool around your middle as you watched the sleek black muscle car roll in, streaked with rain, the rumble from its engine reverberating against your chest in thrilling comfort.

You stood up then, stretching out your limbs, a sly smirk threatening to stay on your lips as you watched Bruce step out of the car, his inky black cape draped around him, cowl shiny with moisture, and oh those eyes, shrouded in painted on shadows, his gaze finding yours immediately.

“Thought you might be in bed by now,” his voice gruff but gentle as he spoke to you, a tone reserved especially for you.

“I considered it but thought waiting up for you here would be a lot better,” an innocent sigh left your lips while you busied yourself with folding the blanket, turning your back towards him, putting a nice little tilt and bend to your hips when you leaned over.

The heavy footfall of his boots coming closer sent another thrill running up your spine, “Indeed it is, missed me that much, hm?”

Bruce was indulging your antics, always one to entertain your moods, your fantasies, wired on the adrenaline of his late night work in the streets, it made for such a potent mixture and you were delighted.

“Mhm, cause someone’s skills were needed elsewhere, I had to make due all by myself,” you feigned a pout, trying to hide your smile when you spotted the briefest widening of his eyes at your words.

He took another step towards you but you skirted away, dodging his hulking figure, the plated armor of his Bat suit still a little intimidating to you, your core clenching around nothing at the thought of being handled by those hands clad in Batman’s gloves, to feel his strength, the brute force in his biceps and forearms, pinning you down to do what he pleased with you.

It’s all you could think about.

Maybe it was the heightened level of your desire that made you feel a little bolder tonight, more eager to tease, to get under his ever-so-stoic skin, because you were making your way over to the car now, your hand trailing over its frame, walking, swaying almost till you were standing at the hood of the car, facing Bruce again who’s eyes were fixated on you.

No words needed to be said as you smiled sweetly, your hands falling to your sides, tracing the edges of the satin slip dress hugging your body, fingers slipping under the hem, dragging it up your thighs a little.

Chest tightening at his steady, measured steps toward you, one of your hands coming down to swipe over your inner thighs, touching yourself before he could reach you all the way, a giggle slipping out when you heard him grumble in frustration.

It wasn’t often that you leaned into your brattier tendencies, but tonight, you were in that kind of mood, something sparking low in your tummy seeing him in the cowl, the suit making him appear bigger, taller, and underneath that you knew he had the strength to carry all that gear, to move and fight in it and it made you feel so much smaller in comparison, finding a thrill in pushing buttons.

“Move your hand, baby.” his command came gently, a warning in itself of sorts, telling you he was going easy on you, giving you a chance to behave.

Any other night you would have yielded, knowing just how good he could give it to you when you listened to him, but tonight you wanted the less inhibited side of him so instead, you kept your hand between your thighs, fingers finding slick skin with ease.

“You have to wait your turn, sir,” you flicked your eyes up towards his playfully, heart jumping into your throat at his expression, the tick of his jaw.

Bruce was pressed against you now, hands moving up to cage you against his chest, your breaths heavier, already losing the battle.

It was so easy for him to break your tough girl act, knowing full well you were just as desperate as he was, knowing your weak spots and using them to his advantage.

Like now, for instance, using your distracted state to catch you off guard, his hands finding your waist and lifting, placing you up onto the warm, wet hood of his car, a delighted squeak filling the air as he lay you back.

You were dough in his hands, shaped by the roll and press of his fingers, the weight of them making you whine as he pushed your legs apart, all but growling at your lack of underwear.

The sight of him settling between your thighs, his body over yours filling your entire field of vision unlocked something for you, your heart beating wildly at the feeling of the suit again your skin, cool droplets of water landing on from the ears of his cowl as he lowered his head to your ribs.

His lips were warm as they kissed down your torso, his hands keeping your thighs spread out for him, open so his mouth had a clear path to travel down, your breath hitching the lower his mouth went.

A needy whine slipped out when he stalled, just hovering over where you wanted him most, his huff of laughter making you squirm from sensitivity.

“Look who can’t wait their turn now…you’re lucky I’m in a generous mood.” Bruce chuckled lowly, catching you by surprise and making you ache for more.

“Please-oh!” you weren’t too proud to beg, his mouth finally touching down on puffy folds.

The move turned your plea into a moan, hands jerking, slipping on the rain droplets now soaking your dress, grasping anything for purchase as your hips rocked with his movements.

Curses and half stifled moans filled the air as he buried his face into your heat, his tongue lapping and swirling around your clit, moving further down to taste you properly.

Your muscles ache from the strain of flexing against him, your body chasing the sensations he was giving you, the building pressure in your abdomen, the way he groans against your pussy, drinking you down, it all made your brain hazy in the best way.

“Taste so fucking good…fuck.” the words left his lips with ease, finding them easier to come by when he was under the suit, when he was most himself.

Trembling hands of yours creep down to grasp at his own hands still keeping your thighs held apart wide, and then move down, timidly tugging his head closer, crying out at the change in pressure, all your nerves tingling.

Something about only being able to catch glimpses of his eyes, the sharp edge of his jawline as he ate you out, and the rest covered by the mask made you open up for him further, your desires reaching no end.

Your hands pushed at his arms until he caught your wrists, holding them back with one hand, pinning them to your tummy, leaving you panting, unable to help but grind yourself against the patterned flick and swirl of his tongue.

The added thrill of being so exposed, though this was a private space, how open it seemed, made you feel on display, another wave of heat flooding your body.

Goosebumps travel down your arms as the cool brush of his free hand caresses your frame, grabbing dewy flesh, feeling your breasts, your waist underneath his grip, loving how you molded to his touch, how perfect you were in his arms.

He could spend all night like this, making you feel good, pulling those high pitched whines and gasps from your throat, making your thighs tremble like they were doing now. It’s all he could think of, all he could do.

“Please, please, keep going, yes!” more whimpers fall prettily, your body turning soft and pliant under the sweet pressure of his lips, the way his tongue sweetly nudges inside you, licking your essence, building you up higher and higher.

Every now and then he’ll slow it down, teasing you just a little for his own self indulgent reasons before heeding your heady whimpers for more, building you back up again, enjoying the way you seemed to drip from his tongue, how he could make such a mess of you.

He knows you’re close, can tell by the way you flutter around his tongue, can feel the frenzied aching in your limbs as it begins to happen.

“Come on, let go. Now. Let me feel you,” the assertion in his tone left no room to argue, the gruff, grit out encouragement giving you the final push you needed.

Your orgasm reaches you quickly as his tongue returns to your clit, dragging out the sensations, making you shake even more, almost exhausted by the force of it.

What a sight this must be, being spread out so sinfully and all for him, something Bruce intended to savor, the fact that you were all his, that rough exterior shedding a little more easily now that he knew he’d given you what you needed.

His lips were still leaving kisses on your throbbing clit and sensitive inner thighs, staying close, bright eyes peering into yours, wanting the close contact to go on a little longer.

That was just fine by you, he could have whatever he wanted with the way he just made you feel, and still, amusement twinkling for just a moment in his eyes at seeing you struggle to catch your breath.

Pushed up onto your elbows now you peer down, cheeks burning again at seeing just how messy you’d become, rain and your arousal damp on your inner thighs, shining around Bruce’s lips and chin.

“God…that was so good, thank you, baby,” your praise and gratitude were soft spoken, holding all the usual affection you had for him, none of your earlier antics remaining.

You watched him smirk at your content sighs, pulling the cowl off with ease, a practiced move that was second nature now.

It wasn’t fair that he could look so handsome, rain soaked and hair disheveled, black paint still smudged around his eyes too but it was a look that fit him well and had much too strong an effect on you, feeling the muscles of your thighs jump once more.

“Anytime. I’m always ready to straighten out that attitude for you, beautiful. Just say the word.”

Maybe it was the unmistakable glint in his eye or the way he spoke to you then that had you laying back against the car again, trying to hold back whimpers and giggles when he followed close after you, wanting, no needing another taste, needing to see you fall apart again.

“Think you can be a good girl and keep those legs open for me?”

“Mhm, just don’t want you to stop, please.”

“Never…have to make up for all those hours I was gone, right.”

You shared his sly little smile and lay back for him once more, the searing kisses unleashed upon your still tingling skin dragging you back under, right where you wanted to be, under the skillful fangs of The Bat himself.

————

A/N: Well it had to be done! Cause I can’t be told otherwise, Rob’s Batman eats it like a starved man and I will stand by that! Period! Lol thank you for reading this fun little fic, lemme know what you think! Any and all thirsty comments welcome! 🖤

some tags, no pressure! @flamingdisputes @littlekidsteve @eupheme @saradika @allaboardthereadingrailroad @yelenas-lova @tarrenterror25 @moreofem @squidlywiddly87

#amalia writes #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne smut #the batman smut #battinson x reader #battinson smut #batman x reader #batman smut #battinson x you #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne imagine #batman fanfiction #the batman 2022

5K notes · View notes

queer-n-here · 2 months

Note

Hey I was the one who asked for the Sigma and Atsushi fic ur fine 😭 but anyways Atsushi n Sigma who love bite you without realizing that theyre doing it and it leads to smth else 🤫

Hey, thanks for sending it again bro! I'm double posting today cuz I felt kinda guilty for making you send this twice (and also cuz I literally have nothing else to do so...)

I hope you like it, and I hope it's worth the double ask!

Contents: Atsushi bites you in instinct first thing in morning, so you fuck him. Sigma bites you mid-breakdown, so you calm him down then fuck him!

Warnings: Smut, top male reader, biting (reader receiving), marking (Atsushi), nipple play (Atsushi), dubcon (Atsushi), cnc (Atsushi), edging and over stim (both mentioned for Atsushi), comfort (Sigma), gentle sex (Sigma), praise kink (Sigma)

Nakajima Atsushi

I can imagine him biting you. He's a tiger bruhh.

Anyways, on a more serious note

Atsushi who bites you first thing in the morning when you wake up beside him, too sleepy to even processing what he's doing.

Atsushi whose eyes widen when he finally does process it, scrambling away from you and apologizing profusely.

Atsushi who keeps opening and closing drawers to find a medical kit; he drew blood from your shoulder. You have to grab both his hands to stop him from moving.

Atsushi who blushes and shakes his head when you ask him if he's into that.

But you'd be stupid if you listened to him.

So don't.

Push Atsushi onto the bed, rip his clothes to pieces as he struggles beneath you, arguing how it's so early in the morning, that even the sun's not up properly, you can't possibly-

Prove him wrong, show him that you can fuck him that early in the morning, pinning his arms down on either side of his head as you kiss and bite his nipples, making them swell and grow erect at the touch of your lips.

Take both Atsushi's wrists in one hand and spread his legs wide open with the other, his asshole already loose from last night's activities.

He's struggling under you now, but you know for a fact that that's just how he likes it, that perverted little cat. He wants to feel your control of him. He wants to feel helpless under your strong grip.

Slowly, Atsushi's arguments will turn into moans and cries of pleasure as you enter him, your dick swelling at the sight of him beneath you.

Fuck him, pound him till his mind breaks, till he looses all his shame and reason.

Fuck Atsushi till he forgets his denial about biting you, and his teeth clamp down on your shoulder for the second time that morning, making you hiss in pain and speed your thrusts up.

Bully his nipples and mark his collarbone, his pale skin turning red and purple under your insistent lips as he pants and huffs, his back arching under you.

Make Atsushi see stars, edge him till he's begging you for release, hips bucking into yours.

Or over stimulate him till he hasn't got a drop of cum left in his balls, till he's coming up with dry orgasms.

He's all yours to play with, so don't stop till he really can't go on.

When you're done, kiss his forehead and tell him how good he did.

Sigma

Sigma bites you in the middle of a breakdown, so despite the spark of heat that that sends down to your crotch, you don't react.

He's barely able to breathe, heaving and panting as more tears stream down his already wet face, his hands fisting in the material of your shirt as he tries to remain in control of his mind.

You talk to Sigma, your voice soothing as you murmur sweet nothings into his ear, praising him incessantly, stroking the back of his head as he presses his face into your chest.

You're worried that he will suffocate, and so you try to pull away, but he doesn't let you, muffling his sobs and sniffles in your shoulder and clinging on.

You let him, holding him close to you and rubbing circles into his back to try to get him to calm down. He needs to calm down, and you hold him till he does.

Once Sigma relaxes, the stream of tears finally coming to a halt, you wipe his face gently and kiss his forehead, asking him if he's alright. He nods slowly.

You let him collect his bearings, not wanting to make him uncomfortable in any way. It ends up being him who brings it up.

Sigma notices the bite mark on the side of your neck, wincing at the broken flesh.

"I'm sorry... I really didn't mean to."

He won't stop apologizing easily, so kiss him and slide your hand under his shirt, murmuring that you didn't mind, that he can do it again if he wants.

Flip Sigma over, make him lay on his stomach with his face pressed into a pillow and ass high up in the air. Enter him slowly, gentle as you can.

Kiss his shoulder blades, tell him how pretty he looks; that alone will have his wet hole fluttering around you beautifully.

Fuck Sigma, slow and gentle and just the way he likes it, his pants turning into loud moans as he tries to muffle them in the pillow, failing miserably when one particular thrust makes him arch his back and whine your name.

Hit his prostate again and again and again, each touch of your tip making his eyes blur up.

Be gentle, he likes it when you treat him like he's breakable; or be rough, he doesn't mind when you treat him like the cheap whore he is, either.

He's all yours to play with, so fuck him till you're both satisfied, till his beautiful hair is plastered to his forehead from fatigue, till his cheeks are all red and stained with tears, till his thighs are trembling with fatigue.

#dom male reader #top male reader #dom reader #sub bsd x you #bsd x you #bungou stray dogs #sub bungou stray dog x you #sub bungou stray dogs #sub bsd #sub atsushi #sub atsushi x you #sub sigma #sub sigma x you

212 notes · View notes

fox-guardian · 1 year

Text

I am still thinking so hard about artist Jon.

Like. It's a hobby for him, purely, he doesn't plan to make money off of it. It's just for fun. He doodled a bit in his free time and then took life drawing classes in uni because Georgie insisted he needed to get out and do something more than studying so he. Kept studying. But just art this time.

He would describe his style as a kind of realism, but its definitely stylized in colors at least, as he's impatient and goes for bolder colors for lighting pretty early in his process so he doesn't lose the feeling of the piece, especially if it never gets finished. He wants to keep the vibes, just in case he wants to go back to it, so he doesn't forget.

He kinda falls of drawing after he starts at the institute, but I think during season 4 he picks it up again to cope with. Everything. He's not using his fancy drawing supplies since he doesn't have them anymore, just office pens and pencils. It's a lot of Martin, of course. But also Tim. He wishes he could ask Melanie to describe Sasha for him so he could try to draw her too, but he figures that wouldn't go down very well. Besides, telling his coworkers he draws is too much vulnerability anyway. Sometimes he even draws The Admiral, but he doesn't often draw animals so it never does him justice in his eyes.

Then at the safehouse, he works up the nerve and asks if Martin could sit for him for a bit. He doesn't need to pose or anything, just stay right there, Martin, keep reading that book, just don't move too much for a while, the lighting is perfect, he needs to capture it. He needs to map it with pen and paper. His phone camera could never catch the golden light on Martin's hair, and besides, the photo could lie to him later. But muscle memory and scratches in paper are harder to change, surely. He needs to record the moment like this. Hold it to his heart. Feel it in his wrist as he swipes strands of hair across the page, in his shoulder as his arm arcs down the curve of Martin's stomach, in his fingertips as he smudges the pigment he bought from the local craft supply shop to form a reddened cheek.

And Martin's cheeks are red. After everything that's happened, all the distance, his heart wasn't prepared for the intimacy of sitting before the man he loves being lovingly analyzed and having his likeness put to paper. It's exciting and agonizing at the same time, feeling eyes on him for hours as Jon stares down every curve, maps out every freckle, mole, and blemish. And when Martin sees the final image as Jon sheepishly presents it to him, he cries. He remembers feeling the fear of statement givers as he read their stories, living it through the words written. It was kind of like that, only instead of fear, he felt the overwhelming love pressed into every line on the page. Every stroke, every smudge, even tucked into the negative space, filling him up until it couldn't be contained, and he burst into tears. (Which worried Jon greatly until Martin reassured him with a hug and a kiss.)

He doesn't ask Jon to stop drawing him. How could he, when it was always with such love behind it? Not to mention Jon was getting back in the swing of it, oiling his rusty skills, and he was so happy doing it. But he will admit it was mildly mortifying seeing their home fill up with so many portraits of him, steadily increasing in their flattering composition. Jon was drawing from his imagination now that he had memorized most of Martin's form, and it was getting out of hand. He once caught a glimpse of a work in progress of Martin lounging and being fed grapes by cherubs. Good lord.

#ramblings with major #the magnus archives #tma #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin #jmart #artist!jon #this got out of hand. its fine. akdjsksjs

1K notes · View notes

marvelfanfn2187a113 · 8 months

Text

Concerning Habits

Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Castiel x teen!reader (platonic obviously)

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: you’re too embarrassed to share one of your habits with your brothers.

“Would you stop moving around back there?” Your oldest brother Dean demanded. “You’re shaking the whole car, just go to sleep.”

“What do you think I’m trying to do,” you grumbled, changing positions again as you struggled to grasp onto the sleep that’d been evading you for the past hour.

“Since when are you such an insomniac anyway?” Sam asked absentmindedly from the passengers seat, where he was pouring over one of the Men of Letters books.

“I don’t know,” you lied. You knew exactly why you’d been tossing and turning for the past hour, but you’d rather throw yourself out of the Impala then tell your brothers why.

Truthfully, it was kind of stupid. When you’d packed your bag to come on the hunt with your brothers, you’d forgotten to pack Jasper, the teddy bear you’d had almost since birth. You hated that you couldn’t get to sleep without him, but you’d tried before and it never worked. It was a little comfort in a world where comfort was few and far between.

You were sure that there were two reasons that you needed him to sleep. The first was more of a tangible reason; you’d gotten used to holding something every night for your whole life, so to be without it threw you off. The other reason was more personal; having that bear was like having a reminder of your whole family with you. Your mother had bought it for you, John had sewed an eyepatch on his face when one of his little plastic eyes fell off, and Sam and Dean had sewed up rips and tears in the thing countless times. Without him, you felt…alone. Like the little pieces of your family that you were desperate to remember were gone.

Of course, this was way too much to dump on Sam and Dean, who were just trying to enjoy a peaceful drive. So, you gave up on your useless attempts at sleep, and instead grabbed your headphones and turned on one of your playlists. You made sure to keep your phone under the small blanket over you, not wanting to alert Sam and Dean to your restlessness.

“Wake me when it’s my turn to drive,” Sam told Dean, and you couldn’t help but be jealous at the way he fell asleep almost immediately.

Four hours later, you had exhausted both your body and your playlist, yet still sleep wouldn’t come. There was still over six hours left in the drive, and you were sure that you were going to go insane.

When the Impala pulled over and Dean and Sam switched seats, you noticed Sam staring at you.

“Why are you awake?” He asked. Dean glanced back to look at you.

“I…” you didn’t have a good answer, so you didn’t.

“Did you sleep at all?” Dean asked, and when you ignored this too, he began to look alarmed. “Alright, what’s up? You need to sleep.”

“I’m trying,” your voice came out in a mumble.

“For the past four hours?” Sam didn’t sound convinced. “You’re either trying too hard, or not hard enough.”

“I can’t sleep.”

“Why?” Dean asked. “You looked half dead when we left for this trip, I thought you’d be out in five minutes flat.”

“I just…I left something at the bunker,” you slowly sat up, giving up on even your fake sleep. “And I need it.”

“Why didn’t you say something before?” Dean demanded. “If you need it-“

“I didn’t realize until it was too late,” you sighed. “And-and I don’t need need it.”

“What’d you forget?” Sam asked, confused.

When you didn’t answer, Dean turned in his seat to face you.

“Kid? C’mon, talk to me, is it like medication or something? I might have some sleeping pills with me.”

You shook your head, feeling dumber than ever.

“Not-not pills, just…” you lowered your eyes, resisting the urge to hide under your blanket. “Just something that helps me sleep.”

“How about this,” Sam sighed, trying to stall Dean’s rising frustration. “How about I call Cas, and he can get it for you?”

“I don’t wanna bother Cas,” you said quietly.

“Hey Cas,” you flinched in surprise at Dean’s sudden outburst. “We’re on I94, mile marker…78, and we could use some hel-“ Dean stopped talking when Cas appeared suddenly next to you.

“What’s wrong?”

“Ask her,” Dean gestured at you, and you felt your face heat up, your ears turning pink. It would’ve been embarrassing enough for your brothers to find out about Jasper, but an actual angel?

“Dean-“

“We’re gonna be on this hunt for days, I’m not about to let you just not sleep for days, so tell the angel what you need and get it over with.”

“You want me to help you sleep?” Cas asked, trying to understand why he’d been summoned.

“No, it’s just…I-I left something at home, and I need it to sleep, and since you can like, teleport…” your voice trailed off when you saw realization light up Cas’s face.

“Alright, what is it you want me to get?”

“It’s…” you couldn’t admit it, you just couldn’t. You tried to skirt around the answer. “It’s in my room…”

“You might have to be more specific,” Cas said slowly, his brows drawn together.

“It’s a bear, ok? A stuffed animal bear, and it’s on my bed,” you’d given up completely on both your attempts to keep the truth from them and any inclination to look at anyone in the car. You’d buried your head in the blanket that you held in your hands, and didn’t look up even when you heard the gentle whoosh of Castiel leaving.

“Kid, you ok?” Sam asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

“Here you go.”

At the sound of Cas’s voice, you finally looked up to see him holding Jasper out to you.

“I don’t understand. You seem distressed,” Castiel observed as you pulled Jasper into your arms.

“I’m not distressed, I’m embarrassed,” you huffed. “It’s…it’s just so stupid.”

“I’ve observed that many humans have sentimental attachments to objects, I don’t understand why this is different,” Castiel cocked his head.

“Stuffed animals are for kids,” you mumbled.

“So?” Dean’s voice from the front seat surprised you.

“So? You don’t think it’s stupid?”

“Kid, we all have our…” Dean searched for a word. “Quirks. And considering some of the issues me and Sammy have had,” his wry smile made you relax slightly, “I think ‘needing a stuffed animal’ is pretty low on our Concerning Habits list.”

“You really don’t think it’s that dumb?” You asked.

“Honestly, it’s below Sam’s haircut on my list of weird things in our family. Far below,” Dean scoffed, and you felt yourself relax completely.

“Ok, enough,” you grinned at the sound of Sam’s grumpy tone. “Shouldn’t you be getting some sleep?”

You finally settled down in your seat, smiling at Cas and thanking him quietly. Once he vanished, you stretched out completely in the back seat, and within minutes you were fast asleep, your bear tucked tightly under your arm.

Because you fell asleep so quickly, you missed the way Dean turned in his chair to smile at you, and the whispered conversation he shared with Sam.

“You know, that kid is adorable.”

Sam laughed softly, glancing back at you before turning back to focus on the road.

“Yeah, I know.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #dean x sister #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #winchesters x sister #winchester x reader #the winchester brothers #spn sam winchester #castiel

769 notes · View notes

shankss-magnificent-ass · 9 months

Text

Imagine helping Benn get away to see a 'friend'

Benn: *trying to slip off the ship during dinner for the third night in a row*

Shanks: *notices he's gone almost immediately* Where's Beck?

Lucky Roux: *counting the money Benn bribed him with to keep quiet* I dunno

Shanks: *Runs out on deck to find Benn trying to sneak over the side of the bot* Where we going?

Benn: we aren't going anywhere, I'm going to port by myself.

Shanks: You're leaving the crew! *Starts to tear up*

The crew: *piles out when they hear Shanks' caterwauling* You're leaving! Without even saying goodbye!

Benn: I'm just leaving for the night, not forever...*realizes no one is listening to him* oh my gods, FINE! Fine, I'm not going anywhere.

Crew: *cheers as they herd Benn back into the mess hall*

An hour later

Benn: *finally manages to claw his way out of the impromptu game night to take a breather out on deck*

You: *watches him lean on the railing, trying to light night cigarette* Need a light?

Benn: *jumps in surprise and drops his lighter into the bay* You scared the shit outta me!

You: *hands him your lighter and leans against the railing*, so why were you trying to sneak off?

Benn: what's it to you?

You: maybe I could help if you have a good reason.

Benn: I wanted to go see a friend I always hook up with when we make port here. She knows I'm a pirate, but not what crew I'm apart of.

You: and you don't want us to meet her? Are you shamed of us?

Benn: *no hesitation* very...Nah, nah, it's just she's a sweet gal and rather timid.

You: and you think she'll be scared off when she finds out you're the emotional support idiot to one of the four emperors?

Benn: yes...Wait, I'm no one's emotional support idiot.

You: In order to stop Shanks from pouting you had to let him curl up in your lap.

Benn: so?

You: You looked like you were burping him, like a baby, when he's a whole ass grown man.

Benn: *purses his lips because he knows you're right, so he elects not to respond*

You: Anyway, you want help sneaking out?

Benn: No offense rookie, but I don't think you can help me. They're a group of seasoned pirates, and you.... You've only been in this life for what? Three years?

You: You're forgetting that they're also just a bunch of dudes who are children at heart.

Benn: what are you getting at?

You: What I'm saying is sneaking out will cost you.

Benn: how much?

You: Take me shopping tomorrow and we'll find out.

The next night

Benn: There's no way this is gonna work.

You: Boys! Benn bought you some stuff! *Presents them with a 10,000 + piece Lego set of the Red Force (I'm making Legos cannon for a plot device), a dial set of Uta's newest album, and twenty barrels of booze*

The Crew: *move like a wave, taking up the gifts*

Shanks: What brought this on?

Benn: Just thought we could use a new activity for tonight, you've all been working so hard lately and all.

Thirty minutes later

The crew: *absorbed in sorting Lego pieces and reading the instruction manual*

Benn: *also absorbed*

You: *elbows him* aren't you trying to get laid?

Benn: but Legos.

You: You really gonna pick Legos over pussy?

Benn: but what if they finish it without me?

You: I'll make it have an accident, so they have to start all over. Now get out of here.

Benn: I can't believe that your plan worked.

You: yeah yeah, get outta here before they notice you're gone

Benn: You're the best *kisses your forehead and flings himself off the side of the ship*

Support me on Kofi and Patreon

List of Up-and-coming works

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #benn beckman #benn beckman x reader #red hair pirates #akagami no shanks #red hair shanks #red haired shanks #red haired pirates #lucky roux #from the depths of the dragon's hoard #tma original #7/28/23 #no beta we die like men

613 notes · View notes

softpascalito · 5 months

Text

Snowy Surprise - Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel takes advantage of your lunch break on patrol for ... other activities. Afterwards, a promise he made about christmas decorations comes back to haunt him.

Relationships: Joel Miller x F!Reader WC: 2200 Tags/Warnings: Smut, Explicit Sexual Content, Smut, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Jackson!Era, Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Established Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Female Reader, Neck Kissing, Dirty Talk, Semi-Public Sex, Christmas Tree, Snow Read on AO3 full advent calendar (updated daily)

notes: hello loves! i really wanted to do something special for christmas time this year and i had so much fun with kinktober that i decided to make a little pedro pascal advent calender! this also doubles as a piece for stephs (@toomanystoriessolittletime) winter writing challenge for this week! check it out here ♥

❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

“God, I hope they're serving some warm food tonight,” you mutter, your body slowly moving up and down as you steer your horse up the hill and through a small trickle, the water glistening with the thin sheet of ice that is decorating its top. It crunches under the hooves of the animal as you make your way past the abandoned houses, the caved in roofs and trees heavy with fresh snow.

The ice crunches again, this time behind you, and it's the only indication that you're not alone. He stays quiet.

“The soup we had last week- what was it? Pumpkin?” You ask absent-mindedly. “That was delicious. And hot. Burned my tongue. But it was worth it.”

He still doesn't say anything. Not that it's unusual. It's why you're such a good fit. You’re complementary in that way. You talk, he listens. He pretends to be annoyed, you know he secretly likes the way your thoughts fly out of your mouth, practically unfiltered in his presence.

You let your horse fall back slightly until he catches up with you, the two of you riding side by side. “Joel?”

He turns his head at that, soft brown eyes landing on yours as he seems to be snapped out of thought, “Hm?”

“Were you listening to what I said?”

A small grumble escapes his throat, a dark eyebrow moving up ever so slightly. You roll your eyes at him, deciding to just drop it, “Forget it, it doesn't matter anyway.”

He lets a few moments of silence pass until you reach the small lookout and demount your horses, tying them to a small fence post in front of the building. When he passes you on his way inside, there's a small smirk on his face.

“It wasn't pumpkin. It was carrot.”

He does listen.

Joel signs the patrol book while you busy yourself with the binoculars. The snow is almost blinding, the past week having brought more of it than you're used to, even in Jackson.

It's the favorite topic at night in the tipsy bison, with people complaining about the cold, about pipes bursting and about paths needing to be cleared every few hours. But above all the complaints is the knowledge that the vast amount of snow also has its upsides, keeping infected unable to move as fast and raiders from entering the valley at all.

That, and the children have taken to sledding down the small slopes in the town center, filling the air of the community with genuine laughter and happiness that more than makes up for the hardships the winter brings.

“Coast looks clear,” you mumble into his direction and Joel gives a small nod of approval as he finishes scribbling what is no doubt another joke at Tommys expense into the large book.

As you place the lens caps back onto the worn-out binoculars, two strong hands are placed on each side of your hips, Joel's body gently pressing into yours as he hums into your ear.

“Are we on time?”

You sigh dramatically but do check the small watch you carry in your backpack, finding that you've made good time on your way to the outlook, “We've got time for a small lunch break.”

But Joel doesn't let go, his arms only tightening their grip as he brings his lips to your cheek and you feel his teeth graze over your skin.

“Lunch break. For lunch,” you try weakly but he's having none of it. Joel's gloves come off with a swift motion and he drops them to the ground, his arms sneaking around you and pressing you into him with a little more force. His fingers don't quite extend to your most intimate areas yet, instead just teasing around them, his touch a little more forceful than usual to make sure you can feel it through your thick winter jacket.

“I think I have a better idea,” he mutters into your ear and you nod, pressing your body back against his as you give in.

It's not fair. The way that your brain practically goes silent the moment you're in his arms. It's like a storm raging outside and falling quiet the moment you shut the door. You wonder if he knows a secret pressure point on your body that noone else has ever found, one that eases your worries, that slows down the thoughts in your head that usually rush past at what feels like lightspeed. There's always something to worry about, something to consider, something to feel.

When you're with Joel, you only feel him.

He knows this. And he recognizes every time, without failure, the moment when your brain falls quiet, just by the way you push back into him, a soft gasp on your lips.

“Joel- it's too cold- '' you mumble. There's no heating around you, making the logistics of what he undoubtedly has in mind more than difficult.

“It's okay. I got you,” Joel whispers back. His hand is still warm from the thick gloves he always wears on patrol and he doesnt open a single button of your clothing, instead opting to flatten his hand and slide it into your pants.

His fingers barely fit into the front of your jeans and it causes them to press down on your skin immediately, drawing a whimper from your lips. He shushes you gently, curling his hand to reach further and a moment later, his index finger is inside of you, the calloused skin brushing against your inner walls.

“Fuck, Joel, please-” You practically beg, a familiar heat already burning in your core as you push yourself into the palm of his hand, squirming with the way his hand aligns so perfectly with your front.

Maybe it's because of the cold or because he knows that you're still on a schedule but he doesn't make you wait as long as he usually does, slowly beginning to move his finger in and out of you. You can feel your own wetness staining the inside of your panties as it runs down his fingers and your own hands begin to wander, one clutching onto his arm while you sneak the other around yourself, brushing over the outline of Joel's hard cock behind you.

He hisses under his breath, feeling the touch even through the thick fabric of his jeans and a second finger enters you almost automatically.

“This is about you, darlin’,” he mutters, pressing himself against you a little harder and using his unoccupied hand to grab your wrist, “You just be good for me and stay still.”

So he doesn't want to go all the way, probably a smart choice in the current weather. Any disappointment you feel is quickly washed away however as you feel Joel's fingers curl inside of you, brushing over the spot that makes your knees weak.

You have no idea how he's able to finger you this well in the current position, restricted by the cold and all the layers of clothing between you. The small room is filled with the sound of your heavy breathing and you can feel the warmth of Joel's breath in your neck as he uses his nose to push aside the scarf that's wrapped around your throat and nips at your skin.

His other hand, still wrapped around your wrist, comes to your front, still restricting your arm while also holding you up.

“Come on, let me hear you, baby,” he mutters under his breath. “Noone around to tell us off. Just you and me.”

And again, your brain doesn't protest. You don't think about the dangers of being too loud, of humans or infected being attracted by the sound, of anything really. Your body and your brain seem to agree. You're safe with him.

So you let the noises flow from your lips, whimpering and moaning, mixing Joels name with a string of curse words when his thumb begins rubbing over your clit.

“Fuck, Joel, please, please, please let me come, Joel-” You break off into another fit of unintelligible words and Joel hums behind you, rubbing his nose against your ear. You can practically hear the grin on his face, “Go on, darlin’.”

It only takes a few more thrusts of his fingers inside of you until you're falling apart in his arms, your body jerking as the pleasure of your orgasm shoots through you.

Joel's arms stay tightly wrapped around you and he gives a few more gentle, shallow curls of his fingers, letting you fully ride out your orgasm, before he withdraws his hands from your jeans, leaving your underwear a mess.

“There we go. That's my girl,” he mumbles into your ear as he turns you around carefully and tugs on your jacket a bit, making sure that you're properly protected against the cold. It's endearing how much attention he pays to your shirt being tucked in correctly and your zipper being drawn. He holds you for a while longer, placing gentle kisses on the skin that he still can reach until he's sure you're good to go. You catch a glimpse of him licking the taste of you off his fingers before putting his gloves back on.

Your legs are still wobbly when you head back to your horses a few minutes later and you nod towards the woods, “I'm gonna go pee real quick.”

You're not sure why you blush now when you've literally just had Joel's hand knuckle-deep inside of you but he doesn't seem to mind. In fact, he almost enjoys it, a small smirk playing around his lips, “You do that.”

Ever the gentleman, Joel waits with Old Beardy and Japan while you stalk through the snow for a few more meters until you find a spot that looks like it'll work well-enough as a makeshift toilet. It takes a moment to undress with all the layers you're wearing and you curse as you pull your panties down to find them stained with your own juices, the sticky liquid smeared throughout the cotton fabric.

Meanwhile Joel's hand is scratching the soft neck of his horse when he hears a small yell. In an instant, he has his revolver drawn and is hurrying into the direction you disappeared into mere minutes ago.

He can feel his heart pounding in his chest as his boots sink into the snow with every step, his muscles ready to strike out at whatever danger is lurking behind the trees.

And then, suddenly, there you are. Standing in front of a pine tree that's only a little taller than him, your hand caressing the needles wet with snow.

Joel takes a breath, his gaze flying over the surroundings once more before he lets out a small sigh and lowers his gun, “What's going on?”

Your eyes, round and gentle, wander between the tree and him, lips pursed, like you know his reply to a question you haven't even asked yet.

“I know it's not the most practical option but-” You mumble and you can see the gears turning in Joel's head before he pinches his nose, closing his eyes for a moment, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

It's been a few weeks since you sprung the idea on him while cuddling one night, mentioning that you hadn't had a Christmas tree for years and that with the woods around Jackson so full of pines, it would be a waste to not get one. Joel didn't care much for it but he was so content in that moment with you in his arms that he gave in, agreeing that a little bit of decorating wouldn't hurt. And it seems like precisely that promise is now back to haunt him.

Your hand leaves the pine and instead you reach for Joel, tugging on his jacket a little, “Come on. We have some rope, right?”

“Yeah. Yeah, we do have some rope,” he almost grunts, still keeping his eyes closed. When he opens them again, the brown in his eyes matches the trees around you and you're close enough to see the snow reflected in them.

“How bad do you want this?” He asks, honestly. He's straightforward, as always, so you decide to be as well.

“I really want it. It's perfect, it has the right size and we can keep it outside until I have finished the decorations and-”

Joel raises his hand a little, effectively cutting you off. He's heard enough.

“Okay.”

It's late when you get back to Jackson, riding through the wooden gate on your horses, the freshly cut pine tree tied to a makeshift sled behind you.

“I can't believe you talked me into this.”

Joel had offered a few more grunts and complaints about picking a tree so far away from Jackson when there were more than enough close to the perimeter. But then you had leaned over to him, just as he finished tying the tree down with a few sturdy knots.

“Maybe I can make it up to you by using this for something else, later.”

He smirked on the ride back, only stopping when you reached the small road that led down to the town and putting on his usual, gruff demeanor.

It barely lasts until you reach your doorstep.

notes: i hope you liked it! if you did, feel free to let me know if you want to be added to my twitter/tumblr tag list so you get a lil notification every time your advent calender is ready to be opened. wishing everyone a very lovely december ♥

#softpascalito #advent calendar #pedro pascal #joel miller #joel / reader #joel x reader #joel miller / reader #joel miller / you #smut #christmas tree #tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedropascaladventcalender #stephswinterwritingchallenge #day one

342 notes · View notes

biblio-smia · 4 months

Note

“Could you please come and get me?” Mike Schmidt x fem reader! congrats on 800 <33

thank you 🫶 | part of v’s 800 follower celebration!

mike sighs as he collects his things, head down as he heads out of the employees only area to avoid quizzical stares from anyone with their eyes on him.

it's not like mike will have to see any of them again, anyway.

mike shrugs his zip-up on as he steps outside, cold air dissolving the warm heat that's been brewing inside of his chest. he's searching the half-empty parking lot for his beat-up honda when mike remembers why he won't find it.

mike buries his face in his palms, rubbing his face as he groans. he'd almost forgotten that his car hadn't started this morning and he had been forced to ask you for a ride. now there'd really be no way of hiding this from you.

well, better not to delay the inevitable.

mike pulls out his nokia and dials your number, smartphone pressed up to his ear while he listens to it ring. he bites the inside of his cheek, eyes staring blankly ahead, wondering what he's going to say to you.

the line clicks when you pick up, a sweet greeting pulling mike out of his own head.

"hey, honey." your voice chimes. "did you forget something?"

"what? oh, no, no..." mike takes a breath, clenching his fist for some sort of grounding. "i... got fired."

mike waits for an audible reaction, a sigh or a groan, but the lack of one doesn't stop him from imagining disappointment all over your face.

"could you please come and get me?" mike asks a little quietly, trying to mask his embarrassment.

"of course i can. you don't need to ask. i'll be there soon, okay?"

"okay."

"hey, i love you."

"yeah," mike says, and before he can regret not saying it, "i love you, too."

you're pulling up quickly, though mike wouldn't have noticed if you'd taken ten minutes or thirty. he's quiet as he opens the door to the passenger seat and climbs in, guilt and shame keeping him from even attempting to start a conversation. mike doesn't even want to look at you, scared he'll see something that'll break him worse than being let go ever could.

you let mike sit in the silence, knowing that asking him about it won't get you anywhere good. your driving is poorer than usual today, stolen glances at mike taking a little bit too much focus away from the road.

by the time you're home mike is more receptive, pressing a kiss to your cheek and thanking you for picking him up. you know he won't listen no matter how much you tell him you don't mind so you hum.

"are you hungry?" mike asks as he steps into the kitchen, digging out ingredients to make something to eat.

you're not really but you let mike make something for you anyway. "yes, please."

mike sets the two plates down on the coffee table in front of your seat on the couch. he can tell something's coming as he sinks in the spot next to you, not bothering to reach for his food. mike turns to face you, shadows on his face making him look so much older.

you cup mike's face and he leans into instantly, the intense feeling of missing you all of a sudden rushing through him. he turns his head to kiss your palm, muttering apologies that tickle, his arms keeping you at a distance that manages to comfort him.

"i know you're not mad or anything," mike begins hesitantly. "i mean, you're not... right?"

the corners of your lips tug upwards. "i'm not."

"i was just... scared you'd be disappointed. or something." mike fights the urge to hide his face, forces himself to look at you. a piece of his heart heals when he sees you smiling at him, so much love radiating off you it makes him gulp.

"i'm not. could never be." your hands move to the back of mike's neck, your fingers venture slightly into his hair. "it's their loss, anyway."

mike laughs. it's true, in a way. not a lot of people were willing to work the hours he was.

"there's that pretty smile," you grin, leaning in to bump your nose against mike's.

"that one right there?" mike asks, smoothly poking your bottom lip.

you laugh, which only makes mike smile harder. he pulls you in gently, trying to fit in everything he couldn't say.

it's not perfect, but with your help, it's so much better.

#mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt #five nights at freddy's #fnaf x reader #fnaf movie #fnaf #v + mike #v writes #v's 800 follower celebration

247 notes · View notes

cloudysleepingzone · 2 months

Note

Heya^^ could we possibly get some romantic hcs about dazai, atsushi, and possibly fyodor with a artist s/o, they sometimes doodle on unimportant papers when the meetings are way too boring for them , and sometimes when they have free time they draw their lover in their sketchbook, maybe a painting or two of their lover <3 anyways love your writing and don't forget to hydrate! Have a wonderful day or night!!

BSD with an Artist S/O

Decided to add Chuuya and Tecchou due to a very similar request!

Contents : Dazai, Atsushi, Fyodor, Chuuya and Tecchou x Reader (separate), gender neutral reader (they/them used), fluff, suggestive for Dazai's part and sorta Tecchuu? Not really. Pet Names.

Dazai Osamu

Doesn't matter what your drawing, he's watching.

Can you blame him though? He just loves watching his lover just doing something they enjoy!

If you draw him he will start acting like a dramatic prince for a solid 10 minutes.

"(Name), draw me like one of your French girls~"

You sit quietly at your desk, the surface covered with your sketchbook and a handful of pencils and pens. "Belllaaa~!" Though your peace is interrupted by your loving boyfriend trying to get out of doing his job again. "What are you drawing beautiful?" He leans over you, his arms wrapping around you from behind as he props his chin on your shoulder. The sketchbook page had small doodles of the two of you, mostly just small cute doodles of holding hands, Dazai tilts his head slight to the side, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. "You know, if you need any ideas you could always draw us with less clothes~"

Atsushi Nakajima

Our sweet boy

He's so supportive of your work he loves seeing the look on your face when you make something your proud of

You draw him? Oh boy...he can't even form words

"You're getting even better sweetheart, you keep improving!"

Your a mess, your finger tips covered in different shades of blue and grey, just like the tip of your paintbrush. Atsushi was behind the canvas, laying comfortably on your shared bed with a soft smile on his lips. "Am I doing alright? I'm not moving too much?" He was doing an amazing job. A perfect job. "Your doing good sweetheart, I'm almost done". You've drawn him from memory plenty of times before, but it feels so much more romantic with him right in front of you. "You look really pretty when your focused..." He mumbles under his breath, even if your the one painting him, he's the one doing the most admiring <3

Fyodor Dostoevsky

To a non familiar eye he seems completely uninterested or even annoyed at your interests. But that's far from true

He adores your work though he sucks at showing it

Got a piece you're really proud of? Yep he's putting it in a fancy frame

You? Drawing him? Aren't you just a sweetheart...

It was already late at night, the curtains had been drawn and you were currently in the shower. Meanwhile your husband Fyodor was already dressed in something more comfortable and was waiting for his dear. Fyodors finger tips gently run over the cover of your current sketch book, which laid on top of a desk in your shared bedroom. He picks up the sketchbook, flipping through the pages slowly before a certain page catches his eye, a page seemingly dedicated to just him. His normally cold and hard gaze softens a bit at the sight, some being full line art and color and others being simple messy doodles. His admiring is interrupted by the sound of the bathroom door opening. "Sweetheart what are you doing?". Your husband gently closes your sketchbook, setting it down onto the expensive hard work surface. "Just admiring your work my dear..."

Chuuya Nakahara

New art supplies? He's buying it. You want a new set of expensive as hell paint brushes? Pfft, pocket change.

If you even mention getting into a new form of art he's already handing you his credit card without another question.

"It looks pretty already doll, make sure to show me when it's done yea?"

Like Fyodor, he puts his favorite pieces in fancy frames <3

You walk into Chuuya's at home office, not bothering to knock (not like he minds) "Chuuya, I finished that painting you wanted to see!" He slowly turns his chair around, a small smirk on his face, completely ignoring his task of sorting through files for now. "Let me see it babe". You turn the canvas around, showing him your paintwork you've spent a few weeks on. He stand from his seat, walking up to you and placing a gloved hand on your cheek, planting a loving kiss on the other. "It looks beautiful sweetheart, just like you. I'll be hanging it up." Chuuya had already started a small selection of your art that was displayed in fancy gold and silver frames over a fireplace, in the style as if they were million dollar paintings. To him they may as well be, to him your art is priceless. Your priceless.

Tecchou Suehiro

You could make something weird and he'll like it

He will just silently watch you draw whatever, doesn't matter what.

"That looks good sweetheart"

Drawing him? God I don't know if his heart can take something so sweet!

Here you are, sitting on your boyfriend's back while he does sit ups. It was actually pretty normal at this point. The only sounds in the room was the huffs coming from Tecchuu throat and the sounds of pencil scratching against paper. "Hm...maybe I should draw you like this, it would be pretty good anatomy practice" you quickly sketch up some messy line art you can fix later, shifting slightly to show Tecchuu. "Huff Looks good" Despite the slight strain in his muscles he's able to respond pretty easily. I get up from your seat on his back, letting him get up with a groan before stretching his arms. Moving your pencil back to the paper, you continue to look from your boyfriend to the paper back and forth. "This is a bit better" you your sketch book around, it was just a simple sketch of his muscular figure but it was like fine art in his eyes. "You've been improving a lot haven't you?"

346 notes · View notes

lxvebun · 3 months

Text

Safehouse

synopsis: the only signs of life in Simon's apartment happen to all be things related to you.

content: Simon "Ghost" Riley x gender neutral reader. Fluff +slight hurt/comfort. Pushing my Soft simon agenda. Use of nicknames Love and Doll. Around 500 words. Eng is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡ not completely proofread let me know if there are any annoying mistakes♡

There are traces of you lingering all over Simon's place. Little sparks of warmth in an otherwise dull and cold apartment. Like the dried roses hanging above his bed. A striking contrast of withered red on a pale white wall. It's the only piece of decoration he has. You gave him a small bouquet on your first date. Although a bit shy and hesitant because would a guy like him even like roses? Flowers in general? He never cared for them before but his heart skips a beat now every time he sees them, be it in nature or the ones above his bed that act as a nontraditional dreamcatcher. Because "they make me dream of you, love" He confessed

Or the stupidly soft and fluffy throw blanket you conveniently "forgot" at his place. The one that's decorated with doodle forms of ghosts and hearts. It's neatly folded next to his pillow and if you catch him cuddling up to it in his sleep, "you're just hallucinating. Go back to bed, doll."

You never asked for it back and any attempts to give it to you resulted in you forgetting it again at his place. Partly because it's just a very fitting blanket and the thought of him using it makes your heart soar but mostly because you've slept under Simon's normal sheets and they are thin, do a horrible job at keeping out the cold and you're pretty sure holes are starting to appear at the seams.

You know his apartment looks the way it does because he doesn't want to get too used to comfort. He doesn't want to dull the edge his job has left him with only to have to sharpen it again once he leaves. So he doesn't admit that his skin is cold, or that the couch is falling apart and that the windows need replacing because he'll leave again in a few months if not sooner anyway. Where there won't be things as thick warm sheets or comfortable living space.

This survival instinct of his is not strong enough to keep him from staying over at your place any chance he gets tho. And although he keeps saying, for reasons you now know, that he doesn't need much, you can see the weight on his shoulders melt off the moment he steps foot into your home. Your home with warm, low lighting and flickering candles carrying the scent of vanilla. Your home with dark oak bookcases stretching out against the walls holding stories from fantasy to non-fiction and the occasional little trinket.

Your home that's utterly and completely you from the color of paint on your walls, the ridiculously large ceramic mugs in the cupboard, to the plants you keep in your windowsill and the scent of your candles. It's you. It's safe.

It's safe enough for him to lower his guard. It's still there of course, it's been so engraved into his very being you're not sure it will ever leave, but it significantly decreased in the way he's not quieting his breaths to tune in to the footsteps in the corridor or the way he's not constantly trying to feel the outline of his concealed weapons through his clothes.

You're glad you can bring him a sense of safety and warmth, all you ever want is for him to be happy. But you do admit you would love to find more traces of him lingering in your home. Even just the thought of seeing his shoes next to yours at your front door everyday makes warmth bloom in your chest.

Perhaps tonight you can finally ask him to move in with you.♡

Thank you for reading, Angel♡

More Simon fics

#simon riley x reader #cod x reader #cod mw2 x reader #simon ghost x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x gender neutral reader #cod fluff #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff #simon riley x gn reader #mw2 x reader

240 notes · View notes

rileysluvr · 9 months

Text

simon riley loves to spoil his girl because i say so. nsfw!!

He made up for his absence by spoiling every bone in your body with what he could best offer: sex and money. It sounds conceited, he knows, but he just loves to spoil you.

You, in your pretty, sunflower-yellow mini dress, practically leading him everywhere you go like a little kid at the fairgrounds. His hand tightly laced with yours as if he’d lose you if he let go, your various shopping bags in his other hand. He’s not far off from being perceived as your bodyguard whenever you go out together, and if it’s sunny and he’s opted for the cap and sunglasses combo, you’d better expect to get a few stares.

Him, in his usual blue jeans and black t-shirt that hugged his muscles tightly and made him stick out like a sore thumb in the high-end stores he’d urge you to go in when he would catch you eyeing a mannequin’s piece in the window. He almost turns into the little kid in that sense, stopping in his tracks and refusing to budge until you give in and see if it suits you. And he knows it will. He’s got an eye for those things, and he knows nothing could look bad on you, anyways.

All of his focus on you as you take your time, watching your every move as he’s seated on the dressing room bench, fighting to keep his hands to himself rather than cupping one over your mouth and fucking you right there. How you’d do a spin for him in every dress you tried on and he’d give his opinion, knowing he’d be the one stripping it from you in time to come, very soon.

What d'ya think? you smiled, hands clasped together behind you as you rolled forward on your toes.

I think it looks perfect, he stated, reaching his hand out. You stepped forward and took it, and his other hand found your waist, pulling you closer. You want it?

You bit down on your bottom lip and nodded coyly, leaning into his touch before bending down to kiss him with joy. Then it’s settled.

His job paid well, and being a man of little needs and a taste for simplicity, he never knew what to do with all of it; if it wasn’t going towards his diet, or the 1969 Mach Fastback sitting in his garage, it was being saved, stored, waiting to be used for something good. That something, finally being you, no matter how many times you’d insist you could pay for your own. It felt good for him to put his money towards something worthwhile, and the eye-candy that comes along with it is certainly indisputable. He’s got a horrible sweet tooth; he has to satiate it somehow, even if it means bending over backwards and running his wallet dry to keep you all dolled up.

Money had never looked so good on a person. In the form of flowy little dresses and glossy pink nails that reflected you so well, new necklaces and hair appointments that always brought a bright smile to your lips. The flowers he’d buy you just so they could go in the vase on the coffee table by the couch, right alongside the book you both are working on as you’re sat on his lap, back against his chest. But his giant frame is just so damn comfortable, and his voice is so fucking soothing in that eased tone he’d use on the occasion you ask him to read aloud to you. Most times you end up falling asleep before you’re even a chapter in, and he notices immediately, setting the book down and settling into the couch with you in his arms because he always decides that being with you heavily outweighs any back or neck pain that will surely come. He is older, don’t you forget it, and he doesn’t think you’re ever going to get through the novel at this rate.

He would never lie and say he didn’t get equal amounts of pleasure from it all. He promised himself to have you bathing in it for as long as you’ll let him, and even if that ran out, you’d quickly learn that his doting would still be quite difficult to get rid of.

Then, after a long day of splurging and satisfying your every want, he takes you home, handles you like you’re nothing of weight as he strips you of your dress, and fucks you silly. Fucks you how only a princess deserves, or like you were his first and final true love, the only one to ever matter on this green and corrupt planet because every day he spends with you he’s getting closer to believing both of those to be more than true.

Your fingers pulling tight at the short hair on his head as he buries his face in your cunt. Heavy, big arms, one inked and the other blank for the time being, holding you down by your plush thighs because he knows how sensitive you can get after just your first round. And there’s no way in hell he’s stopping after one. It’d take either a million men or merely your sweet begging to pry him from you once he’s delved his tongue in. You can’t possibly blame him; you just taste so heavenly, he can’t help it nor his insatiable appetite. His groans grow to be louder than your own when he feels and hears you finish, and he’ll come up with a dumb and cocky smile, your cum coating his lips and the stubble around it when he pulls you in to devour your mouth next. Allow you to get a taste of exactly how good he treats you, as if you reminding him of it every day wasn’t enough.

Head hanging off the corner of the bed, the necklace he bought you tickling your jaw and behind your ear in the particular position. Your hips meeting his lap as he fucks himself into you so gently, calloused palms refusing to leave your tired body. He eventually pulls you up with a laugh, not wanting to go another second without looking into those pretty, drunken eyes of yours, or for you to wake with a sore neck the next morning. He doesn’t want you to ever hurt, or long for anything different. He wants you shaking, trembling in his arms with a blissful look on your face and asking, writhing for more so he can grant it. He’ll hug you as tight as possible to his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck to support yourself with the sudden change in position, giggling into his shoulder due to the titillating sensation his panting into yours causes.

However you want to be fucked, he’d do it for you with unending honor, and then some more, until you’d forget your own name, and his real one. How rapidly his next deployment was approaching.

He wrings you both dry and exhausted, still he takes the time to bathe you, fully on display for him as his soapy hands repair whatever damage he may have dealt you. Swaddle and coo you to sleep for a much needed afternoon nap, in his arms and the comfort of your shared bed. Watch you fall asleep, listen to your breathing slow into pure bliss before allowing his own to follow, and all that. He was in deep, and if Simon from a mere year ago saw him like this, he wouldn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

Laugh at the sheer absurdity of his behavior, or would it be the idea of having something, someone, so perfect?

Cry because he must’ve fully lost it, entirely unable to recognize himself, or because the image was so beautiful?

Whatever it was—despite its utter unbelievability and domesticated feeling he thought he was allergic to—he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

#cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #simon riley #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut

449 notes · View notes

luffyvace · 4 months

Note

Hello hope your doing well, I had this idea for a while now but I can please request Red hair pirates x male reader with heterochromia(serach it up if I don't what it is) where the reader is ashamed of their eyes and hides from the his new crewmates.

You also don't have to acppect my request. But anyways have a good day!💛

HIII I AM GOOD!! YOU? of course i accept your request anon!! :) dw i know what heterochromia is 😎😋

just for the record i’ve done research on the main 4 (shanks, ben, yasopp and lucky) in the past to get to know them better. so i’ll talk about them specifically and address the rest as “the crew” if that’s okay :)

THEY NEED MORE SCREEN TIME PLSSS

thank goodness for the one piece live action for a lot more gifs of all of them 😭💥

thank you so much for your request!! :) enjoy anon <3 and thank you for being patient!

so you just joined the red hair pirates recently

and you hide one of your eyes with an eye patch or your hair

shanks does wonder about it but doesn’t wanna bother you if your sensitive about it

bets it’s a scar

lucky and yasopp notice you hide your eye but they all have they’re personal reasons for stuff they do

so they assumed this was one of yours

ben thinks it could be a scar or you could just like to style your hair that way

but from the way it looks—how you try to keep it hidden so well and refuse to move it at all

he pretty much figures something happened

shanks and ben talk it over all the time

they never let you hear

just so your not uncomfortable

shanks will probably be the one to ask if curiosity gets the best of him

(it will)

”hey m/n, why do ya’ hide your eye?”

he asked it casually, drinking all the while

”oh..uhhhh, hide? i’m not hiding it..”

”so what do you call it?”

”it’s nothing shanks, i just…..like to style my hair this way”

”oh really?”

he pokes at you about it for a while

the other members kinda just watch as shanks playfully questions you

they figured he’d get it out of you

especially with his pushy yet teasing nature

and after a while…he did!

now idk how it went down since your so bent on not showing anyone

but!!

you slowly moved your eye patch/hair out the way to reveal your heterochromatic eyes!!

whoa!!

🤩

😗

we’re the reactions

it looked so cool?

so pretty?

wow it’s so unique i’ve never seen it in person?

woah how do you have two different colored eyes?

let me see!!

turn this way!

okay okay! stop pestering m/n!!

ben had to calm the rave about your eyes since he could clearly see you were a bit overwhelmed

everyone was admiring you and your eye

wondering why you didn’t show them sooner

which is what lucky asked

”i don’t know…i just..it’s shameful..my eyes aren’t even the same color!”

WHAT??

literally everyone’s reaction

wym 😐🤨

do you even know what your talking about right now??

ANYWAY

how’d you get it? we’re you born with it?

i don’t know how it works…how does it?

it’s kinda rare right?…wow…

everyone moves on because clearly your tripping

no but fr if you express your seriously upset about your eyes

the crew shares all types of embarrassing yet fun and heart warming secrets n stories to make you feel better

ben tells you there’s nothing to be ashamed about and that none of the crew would ever judge you for anything

”ain’t that right men?”

a loud uproar of “yeah’s” and cheers can be heard in agreement

yasopp definitely makes you laugh with some of his stories

turns out he’s just as goofy as his son

which he rants to you about said son for hours

makes you forget all about your troubles 😂

lucky and shanks lightly tease you for being so embarrassed over ‘somethin’ so silly’

but it’s all in good fun

in the end you all have drinks and get wasted

‘cheers to your eye! m/n!’

KINDA SHORT BUTTTTT YEAH

i’m really happy with the ending i hope you like it too<3

145 notes · View notes

hbyrde36 · 3 months

Text

STWG Daily Drabble 2/1/24

ALSO HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO @hitlikehammers who chose today's prompt. This one is for YOU!

Prompt: “I Couldn’t Lose You”

Set in post season 4, angst w/ a happy ending

featuring S3/4 Secret Situationship Steddie - post breakup

Rating: G | WC: 1407 | Ao3 link

“I Couldn’t Lose You”

Eddie opened the door.

It was a reflex, really.

Someone rings the bell, you answer the door. It’s an ingrained behavior, unconsciously done.

He didn’t think about the fact that he wasn’t expecting anyone, or that it was past midnight and a decidedly odd time for unexpected visitors. In his defense, he didn’t know the simple act of opening his door would mean stepping into the past, and facing down the worst heartbreak of his life head-on after running away to another State to avoid it.

“Oh.” Eddie gasped, the sound seeming to echo as the man on the other side of the doorway sucked in his own sharp breath.

Pain lanced through his chest as he set eyes on Steve Harrington. The man he loved, who he hadn’t seen in over two years.

“It’s really you.” Steve said, blinking hard as if he couldn't believe his eyes. “I didn’t… I knocked on so many doors. I didn’t know your apartment number and–”

“What are you doing here?” Eddie interrupted, aiming for a bored disinterested tone, but the words came out a little too breathless to pull it off.

He couldn’t help it. The only thing keeping him upright just then was the death grip he had on the doorframe.

What was Steve doing here? Eddie figured he and Nancy would have been halfway to the altar by now, if not already there.

“I…” Steve trailed off, dropping his gaze to the floor. He gave a wry huff of laughter and shook his head before looking back up with guarded eyes. “Just answer me one question, and I'll never bother you again.”

“Fine.”

Eddie’s heart was pounding so loudly in his chest he was sure the other man could hear it. He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to stand here and look at Steve’s unfairly pretty face and remember. It’d taken him so long to forget, to be okay after… after.

“Why did you run?” Steve asked.

“I didn’t run. I moved.”

Steve scoffed. “Eddie, you snuck out in the middle of the night. We were both barely healed and I- I woke up and you were just gone. I went to your place and Wayne told me you’d packed your shit up in the van and left. No explanation, no note, nothing!”

Eddie shrugged. “I needed a change of scenery.”

“You could have told me!”

“I couldn’t.”

“Bullshit.” Steve spat, his eyes beginning to shimmer with anger. “It was like you died, Eddie! One day you were there and the next you were gone without a trace. No number to call, no forwarding address.”

“Wayne knew where I was.”

Steve shook his head, expression hardening. “It was like you fucking died! And I don’t… I just need to know why.”

Eddie deflated. Any chance of keeping his aloof demeanor intact was gone under the weight of Steve’s gaze. What was the point anyway? He might as well tell him the truth. Maybe then he would leave Eddie alone to begin the process of picking up the pieces of his shattered heart all over again.

“I couldn’t lose you.” Eddie began with a sigh. “I couldn’t stand the idea of losing you, so I left.”

Steve furrowed his brow. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I know. Trust me, I know. But after all that shit in the Winnebago with you and Nancy, I couldn’t just sit around and watch her take you from me. I thought If I left first, it wouldn’t hurt so much. I know that’s fucked up of me to say, as if you were ever mine to begin with, but–”

“I was.”

Eddie gulped, shaking his head reflexively. “No.” He breathed.

Steve's face softened and he reached out, cupping Eddie's cheek with an almost painful tenderness. “I was yours, Eddie, and I thought you were mine– or at least I wanted you to be. Looks like maybe I should have been more clear about that.”

“Then why did you say those things to her, about an R.V. and wanting six kids, and–”

“Jesus, is that what this has all been about?” Steve asked, dropping his hand from Eddie’s face and crossing his arms over his chest.

“There was also the eye-fucking.”

“Eddie.”

Eddie threw his hands up. “What was I supposed to think?! Here I was, falling head over heels in love with you, and the whole time you were dreaming about fucking off to Yellowstone or whatever with some picture perfect wife and your brood of equally picture-perfect children, like some non-musical version of the fucking Partridge family. Admit it, I was a detour. A glorified speed bump on your way to the life you actually wanted.”

“Baby-”

Eddie flinched hard at the use of the nickname, stumbling backwards out of Steve's reach. Horrifyingly he could feel tears stinging at the corner of his eyes. Even more horrifying was the fact that Steve was following him into the apartment and shutting the door. Hadn’t he done enough, now he had to literally invade Eddie’s home?

“Baby, please-”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Fine. I-”

“Why are you still here? You got your answer. I don’t know what you needed it for but you can go back to your life with little miss perfect now.”

Eddie staggered to the couch, knowing if he didn’t sit soon his shaking legs would betray him. He pulled a throw pillow to his chest, hugging it tightly as he rested his chin on it.

Steve crouched down in front of him, but Eddie studiously ignored his gaze.

“What are you talking about? Nancy?”

“Or whoever the current little miss perfect is. I know you’re not picky.”

“Ouch.” Steve said, though not like the barb had actually stung. He reached out towards Eddie’s knee, moving slowly to give him every opportunity to protest.

He didn’t.

”There is no little miss perfect.” Steve said softly.

Eddie whined involuntarily. Squeezing the pillow tighter and tighter to his chest.

“It was true, what I said to Nancy in the RV. I did always have that dream. The part I didn’t get to say, because we were a little busy at the time, the part I would have told you if you’d asked me about it, is how the dream had changed. When you and I became, whatever we were back then, the dream became less about having 6 little Harringtons, and more about the person in the passenger seat. The one I really wanted to share my life with, the family we might build together by adopting our own kids some day, or the family we found with the little brats I can't seem to get rid of even though they’re about to graduate high school.”

Steve knelt down in front of Eddie more solidly, gently prying the pillow out of his iron grip. Eddie let it go. His eyes were locked on Steve’s as he let everything that was just said to him sink in.

“Say something, please.” Steve begged, taking both of Eddie’s hands in his.

“Is it still me?” Eddie croaked out, his throat tight as he fought not to cry. “In the passenger seat– is it still me, or did I fuck everything up?”

Steve smiled broadly, a few tears of his own escaping his eyes to roll down his cheeks. “I’ve been looking for you, all this time. I love you. Of course it’s still you, baby.”

Eddie surged forward, crashing his mouth into Steve’s. Their lips slotted together perfectly, just as they always had, as if no time had passed at all. Eddie threw his arms over Steve’s shoulders, pulling him close, as Steve wound his hands up into Eddie's hair, gently tugging.

They parted only when they had to, or else risk passing out from lack of oxygen. Eddie rested his forehead against Steve’s while they both caught their breath.

“I love you too… still… always. In case that wasn’t clear.”

Steve snorted the most unattractive laugh imaginable, but it was music to Eddie’s ears. He hadn’t heard that sound in far too long, and it warmed his heart almost as much as the kiss to know he’d caused it.

“I don’t know, Eds. I think you might have to show me again.”

Eddie was happy to comply.

He grinned, leaning in for another deep lingering kiss.

Thank you @penny00dreadful beloved friend and beta!

#stwgdailyprompt #steddie fanfic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington/eddie munson #steddie fic #fanfic #stwg

138 notes · View notes

melinoelliones · 7 months

Text

Vincent had a long days work ahead, files and documents covered his desk from top to bottom. However, he had just called you to his office, what could he need from a maid?

MINORS DNI/AGELESS BLOGS DNI/ANTI DC DNI/18+

Kinktober 2023 Masterlist

Warnings: Slight manipulation, choking, affairs, blowjob, cursing, teasing, crying, lust, one night stand? fem reader

1.7k words

This is so rushed i’m sorry Black Butler fans!!!

“Are you just going to stand there? I called you down here for a reason, now come” he demanded, not even lifting his eyes off of the stack of documents on his desk. “Oh, sorry, yes master” you shuddered, jumping out of your trance and making your way over to his side, not forgetting to bow, “Why are you acting so shy and modest all of a sudden, this wasn’t the side you showed me the other night now was it”.

Your master, Earl Vincent Phantomhive had thrown the party of all parties a couple days before for all the elites, one thing may have led to another which ended in you sleeping with him. It was not what you had intended to do, you were his maid afterall, if anyone was to find out it would be a disaster. Why would he bring it up now? Especially considering after it happened he had said to keep it between you both.

“W~What are you talking abo~ ah” you shrieked ever so slightly as you felt a hand between your thighs, riding up your dress, “stop being so loud she’ll hear you, but back to why I called you here, will you be ever so kind as to help your master relieve some of this stress” Vincent asked as nonchalantly as could be, again eyes never leaving the papers.

“How would you like me to do that? I could get Tanaka to maybe make you some tea, let me go get hi~” “you know that's not what I want” he looked up at you, pushing his chair out from under his desk to grip onto your dress as you attempted to walk away. “But I’m just a maid”, “a maid who’s almost begging for me to touch them? How foolish do you think I am exactly?” he laughed, your eyes widening as his eyes turnt to you for the first time today.

“Ever since that night I’ve noticed you avoiding me, claiming to be unwell and taking days off yet you seemed perfectly fine to me when you were getting off to me in your quarters. Or did you think I wouldn’t know?” he crooked his head, wondering how you would dare to respond to those accusations. As you attempted to think of a lie he cut you off, “even now your dress has less petticoats, I can practically see your entire body, this was what you wanted no?”.

You couldn’t even deny it, this was a fantasy you had had for a while but you hadn’t expected it to play out like this. Not with him in control of the situation anyway, but you were not going to let it slip away that easily.

“A lady mustn't reveal all her secrets, my lord” you smiled, taking a step between the desk and chair before moving to your knees under it. “That's what I wanted to see” he smirked, freeing his cock from his trousers. A small gasp leaving your lips as he took it out, the night you spent together was nothing but a blur so you hadn’t remembered him being as big as he was.

As you took his piece in your hands you were met with a slight groan from him, letting you know how pent up he was, which was perfect for you of course. You gently moved it towards you, molding it in your palm as it grew with each movement.

“Show me what you’ve been so desperate to do.” Vincent grinned peering at you under the desk, “yes, my lord” you nodded, placing your fingers on the cusp of his cock, pressing tightly as you stuck your tongue out letting a drop of your saliva cover his tip. “But why must we rush, you like to tease do you not?” you jested, watching his thighs tense up.

Whilst you kneaded his aching piece in your fingertips he huffed, unsure of how you would steer the situation, “only one of us is in the position to do the teasing, you are still just a common whore that so happens to be my wife's maid”. Your body responded for you, tightening as he chuckled “Oh, does that turn you on?” he smirked.

Without another word you skimmed your tongue along his girthy shaft before parting your lips attempting to take his entire length in your mouth, your warm breath adding to the lingering burn in his stomach, “A~Atta girl, you got it”.

You bobbed your head up and down taking as much as you could, your saliva mixing with his precum engulfing his cock in a wet heat. “Fuuuck, full of surpr~rises are we”, he asked as his hand slid to your hollowed cheek, caressing it before bringing it to the back of your head, a slight pressure being added. His body turnt back to simultaneously finish his work on the desk whilst his fingers curled around your tied up hair.

You hadn’t expected the Earl to be so forward with you, not when you knew his wife could be almost anywhere in the manor, either way it was turning you on little by little. Your heated cheeks along with the large ache between your thighs almost taking over your body as you squeezed them together, allowing yourself that bit of pleasure.

Vincent's groans became sloppy and incoherent as your tongue slid across the slit in his piece before taking it back in, humming to allow it to slip back down your throat, the vibrations adding to the overwhelming closeness he was feeling. You slid a hand between the folds of your skirt, “f~fuck” you cried out against his cock as you ran your fingers across your sopping underwear, the friction from the fabric against your swollen clit sending you into a spiral. If only you could see the sloppy handwriting you were causing the Earl to have.

As the scene was at its peak you heard the door creek open, both of you freezing almost instantly, “Goodmorning my love, have you seen that girl anywhere?”. Although you could only hear the woman, you knew exactly who it was, Vincent gave you the fiercest of expressions before lifting his head to his wife, “Who are you referring to my dear?” he asked, acting oblivious.

“That maid you hired for me, I remember her saying she felt a bit under the weather so I wanted to see if she would like to take a stroll with me down to the river, the fresh air could do her some good I think” Rachel beamed, completely unaware of the scene just on the other side of the desk. Your body ran cold as she spoke, Rachel was the sweetest and most patient of women and always treated you almost like an equal yet here you were, sucking off her husband.

“Oh is that r~right”, “darling, are you alright?” “YES, yes I’m fine, don’t step any closer” he commanded, his body folding over the papers on his desk at your actions. The guilt of the situation had weirdly given you a boost, it was almost as if you liked this. In the middle of the conversation you had run your hand down his cock, toying with his balls.

“I think she’s c~closer than you t~think” he hissed, pushing your head further into him as you choked out, his crown hitting the back of your throat constantly as tears ran down your face. “Oh, okay dear thank you, I will speak to you once you’ve finished up those papers” she curtsied, pulling up the door to continue her search.

His eyes widened as he lent back in his chair, before he could even say another word you felt him shudder, and as if on cue he released, you could feel it cascade down your throat coating it completely, his breath hitching as you continued to deepthroat him, holding whatever remained in your mouth. “W~Well I didn’t e~expect this”, you could hear his subtle whines as the overstim started to consume him, the delirium swirling inside him as the suction intensified.

“G~od you’re fucking amazing, now cmon and show me the mess you’ve made”, his voice bellowed, watching you slow down, using your tongue to take in the elixir of cum and saliva encasing his cock cleaning him up. You could almost feel his member throbbing as Vincent used your hair to pull you off his cock. You gazed at him alluringly, tear stained cheeks on display as the trail of liquids from his shaft and the sides of your lips broke, allowing you to show him your tongue.

“Perfect, now swallow” he ordered, pulling you up from the ground to your feet, his piece still on display as you took it all down. “You have no shame do you, tears down your cheeks yet you didn’t seem to slow down as my wife spoke. She would be so disappointed in you right now” he sighed sarcastically, using his thumb to wipe the corners of your lips, your pathetic face almost laughable.

“Well? Why are you still in my presence, your ladyship is looking for you is she not?” The stern Earl scoffed, your body not even sure of how to react. “Oh, um, yes, my lord” you stuttered, slowly edging towards the side of the desk, his blank stare burnt into your mind as you turnt to face the door. Had this all meant nothing?

As you went to push off the desk you felt a presence, “How amusing” he cooed in your ear as you stomach hit the desks face, his body hovering above your back. “Taking our time are we? Well, what should I do with you now” he growled, a hand inching your skirt up as he nibbled your neck. His bare cock pressed up against your lower half, you needed him badly.

Watching your pitiful attempt at leaving was almost comical to the Earl, but he had never intended for you to leave so soon, not when he knew you were a whore with no morals. He was more than ready to make use of his wifes little expedition, your body was his for the taking and you were more than eager to give it to him. He would not stop until all his stress was gone.

#vincent phantomhive #Vincent Phantomhive x Reader #Vincent Phantomhive smut #black butler #black butler x reader #black butler smut #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji smut #kuroshitsuji x reader #kuroshitsuji x reader smut #Vincent Phantomhive x reader smut #black butler x reader smut #melinoelkinktober23 #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #meli noel work's

195 notes · View notes