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auroralwriting · 2 months

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the gun

spencer reid x genius!bau!reader

oh yes, oh yes, oh yes, they both reached for the gun, the gun, the gun…

"you just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius."

word count: 2.3k

warnings: cm violence, blood, enemies to lovers, kinda rushed im sorryyyy, fem reader slightly mentioned

a continuation of this story can be found here

Spencer and you always competed. He had an eidetic memory, you had a photographic.

The difference between you two was anything you ever saw, read, you held in long-term memory. Spencer’s, though, resided in short term. However, Spencer was also an autodidact, meaning he could teach himself anything. You also had a vast emotional intelligence. You had such strong empathy, you could detect any micro-detail anyone displayed, making you the perfect lie-detector one that even Hotch couldn’t evade.

Spencer was Jason Gideon’s special boy. Gideon helped Spencer make his way in the BAU. You were David Rossi’s special girl, him noticing your skills from a young age when he met you during a case. He guided you to make all the best choices, leading you to the BAU as well. It took a few years, timing and all, but you got there.

When Dave transferred to Quantico’s BAU, he requested your transfer as well. He thought you would mesh well with the team. More specifically, he assumed you and Spencer would become a genius duo; totally unstoppable.

Oh, how wrong he was. It was from the moment you’d corrected Spencer on some statistic he spewed, you both became enemies forced to co-exist on the same team. There was never a civil moment, always some fight. It was sad, too. You remembered the first time you saw him, you were struck by how cute he was. Too bad he decided to hate you before you got a chance.

Vividly, you remembered the most intense fight you both had.

“So someone with a medical degree,” Hotch muttered. “That’s got to be impossible.”

“It’s more likely that have a nursing degree.” Spencer replied. “We’d be looking at around one hundred eighty thousand people a year. If our unsub is a new graduate, that’s the numbers we’d be looking through.”

You shook your head, “It’s actually one hundred fifty seven thousand. Also, narrow it down to nursing degrees in New York, and you get around eight thousand. Eleven percent were men, so around six hundred. Lower it even more to those who don’t have any family members, most likely from group homes, you can get maybe seventy?”

oh, yes

Garcia clacked away at her keyboard, “My baby’s got it! Seventy two people. If we’re looking at NYU specifically, thirteen.”

Pride filled your system. It was fulfilling when you were able to get things right. Spencer, on the other hand, wasn’t too happy about that.

“You know, nobody asked your opinion.” He scoffed.

“It isn’t opinion, Reid. It’s purely fact, ones you should probably get right.” Your reply had Spencer clenching his fists.

How dare you insult his intelligence? His IQ was much larger than yours, you weren’t one to speak on that. “Maybe you should focus on the case instead of trying to be a people pleaser,” Spencer sneered your way.

His reply made you roll your eyes, “At least I can tell what people want. You’re oblivious, Reid.”

oh, yes

Slowly, the two of you began to go back and forth, your voices raising. Before the situation blew up, Hotch stepped in, trying to mediate. However, Spencer mumbled something under his breath, something you couldn’t just let go. It hurt, stung like a bee, and you weren’t going to let him walk away feeling victorious.

“At least my mentor didn’t up and leave me.” you snapped. “He’s still with me, he didn’t just vanish with a stupid little note as a dingy goodbye.”

Spencer had paused, face dropping. You read him like a book, you’d gone too far. He showed minuscule signs of distress, grief, sadness. The room was silent, no one quite knew what to say.

oh, yes

“Reid, I-”

“Save it.”

Spencer had walked away, leaving you to feel shameful of your words. Rossi just squeezed your shoulder. The man knew you didn’t mean it.

they both

Since then, it was like the two of you were on each other’s cases, constantly bickering and arguing. Now, you were almost subconsciously battling each other for the genius role of the team. Was there any need to? No, not at all, but your fights had become not a battle, but a war.

You stood outside the bank with your team. “They have hostages,” You identified, attempting to peer inside. “There’s no way we can go in. It’s a suicide-murder mission.”

oh, yes

“There’s gotta be a way,” JJ shook her head. “Maybe there’s another way in.”

“It doesn’t look like it,” Derek sighed.

After a few hours, Will made the decision to go inside. You had to help hold back JJ as he walked in. Hearing the bullets made you sick. You physically had to double over, holding back the tears. It suddenly hit you how dire the situation was. You went back to the van with the team. No one really knew what to say.

"Did you see where he was shot?" JJ asked. "Is he alive or dead, Garcia?"

Penelope's breath was shaky, "I don't know."

"He was wearing a vest." Emily reasoned. "He might be okay."

JJ gave a smile, but it was one of disbelief. "Might be," She muttered, shaking her head in reply.

It was then that the team decided to go in. You shoved your gun in your holster, "I'll take first point," You offered. "Check and see if Will's okay. I'll try and manipulate them into letting me go to him." Hotch nodded. With your knowledge of psychology and your emotional intelligence, Hotch knew you could do it.

they both

"L/n, it's too dangerous." You heard Spencer say over the phone. "Just wait for me to tell you where to go in."

You rolled your eyes, "Reid, I'm not stupid. I've handled multiple hostage situations."

Spencer didn't reply. You liked that. This was the first time you'd be able to prove yourself without Spencer's help. This was honestly just a way for you to prove you were the better of the two. Your actions were motivated by the desire to be the best; a classic narcissistic move. You weren't a narcissist, though. You just needed to prove to Spencer, once and for all, that you had all the skills to be the best agent, the best genius.

Oddly enough, hostages flooded out of the bank as you made your way back outside. Maybe Will was alive and managed to get them all out. Once none more came out, you and two other cops began to make your way inside stealthily.

Right as you got in the middle of the bank, you heard Rossi's panicked voice over your comms, "Abort, abort!"

oh, yes

There was no time to reply. It all happened so suddenly. You heard the explosion before you felt it. It was hard to breathe. You couldn't see, hear. It slowly registered that there was a bomb, and it went off.

they both reached for

You had no clue where you had been thrown to. Everything felt cold, really cold. A loud ringing filled your ears as you slowly sat up. You touched your head, pulling back to feel stickiness on your fingers. Your vision was blurry, but you knew it was blood. You had to get out of the building. You needed help, medics, your team. Was anyone else in your team inside yet?

they both reached for the gun

A grunt left your lips as you stood up. You felt your legs give out under you, and you went down again. The desire to live was stronger than your physical weakness, and you stood up again. It was so dusty and hazy that you couldn't see. You leaned on the nearest wall for support, slowly using it to try and find your way out of the building. All that you heard in your head was get out, survive, get out, survive.

After what felt like ages, you felt a breeze against your skin. You followed it, hoping it would lead out, and it did. The light was harsh on your eyes as you tried to scan the area. It was then you saw Spencer and Hotch-- what was Spencer doing here? He was still at the BAU last you'd checked. Maybe the blast knocked you out cold.

Trudging your way over, you weakly called out. "Aaron, Spencer,"

the gun

Spencer knew he heard his name. He looked up from the blueprints of the building to see you, blood covering different parts of your body, your skin covered in debris and dust. You had limp, and your eyes were blown out. "Oh my god," he muttered, running over to you.

the gun

The genius took your in his arms as you fell into him, "How'd you get here?" you asked. "What's for dinner?"

Spencer took notice of your confusion as he allowed you to lean on him. He took your face in his hands, "Y/n, look at me. Focus on me,"

the gun

You couldn't directly look at him. Your eyes darted all over the place. "Where's Rossi? Did he go in?"

"No, Rossi's okay." Spencer leaned over his shoulder, "We need a medic!" He yelled, quickly turning his attention back to you. "It's okay, you're okay."

oh, yes

"I can't feel anything," you breathed out, "That can't be normal. Is that normal? Spencer, am I dying?"

oh, yes

Spencer shook his head, "You're okay, it's okay."

"I can't die," You softly whimpered. "I'm sorry, Spencer. 'M so mean to you, I don't mean to be."

Deep down, Spencer knew you meant what you were saying. The fear of dying without getting your true feelings out always lead to admissions of the truth. "I know, I know," Spencer smoothed your hair. "I don't hate you, I don't. You're going to be okay." Spencer slowly became anxious as he noticed the amount of blood seeping from your head. "Look at me, please, keep talking to me."

"'M sorry," You muttered, feeling your eyes grow heavy. Spencer's face began to fade as you collapsed in his arms.

Spencer felt his breathing grow heavy as he held you tightly. "Medic! She's-- oh, god, Help!"

they both reached for the gun.

A steady beeping was the first thing you heard as you woke up. The light was a blinding white, and you let out a groan at it. Your body hurt like hell, and your head was pounding.

"Shh, shh. It's okay, here, let me just--"

The white lights went out and all that was left was the stream of daylight coming through the windows, along with a lamp that was a warmer light. It was much more comfortable that way. You quickly guessed you were in a hospital. The beeping, white lights, smell of rubbing alcohol that you just identified.

"How do you feel?"

Spencer. You turned your head to look at him. His face held deep concern. He was holding your hand. "I--" You paused, considering his question. "I feel like shit."

He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. You kind of got exploded." That's right, the bomb.

"Oh, Will, the team, are they okay?" You softly asked.

Spencer nodded, "Everyone's okay, we got the unsubs. It's all okay now."

You remembered Spencer's words. You should have waited to go in. If you had waited, maybe you wouldn't be in this situation right now. "I should've listened to you." You stated weakly. "You were right. I was being stupid."

"Hey, no," Spencer quickly interrupted. "You were doing your job."

"I wasn't," you shook your head. "I wanted to prove myself. I-I wanted.. to show that I didn't just do victimology and simple hostage relief situations. I wanted to prove myself like you have." You stopped, sucking in a pained breath. You felt your eyes become glassy. "I wanted to prove to everyone I was just as good as you."

Spencer felt his heart break at your words. You both knew overall, he was smarter. It never occurred to him that your constant bickering was to prove yourself, and not to prove him wrong. "You're better." Spencer decided to say. "I mean, I can't relate to our victims, hell, our unsubs the way you can."

"Spencer,"

"I'm serious." He continued. "You're so important to this team. You-you push us to be better." Spencer cleared his throat, "You push me to be better."

You stared at Spencer blankly for a moment, "I never told you that I like this haircut."

Spencer gave you a slightly surprised look. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," You hummed. "It makes you look, I don't know, less like Einstein and more like, uh, a really smart James Dean."

"James Dean," Spencer repeated, "I've never gotten that one before. Are those meds talking right now?"

You shook your head slowly, "Probably the clearest I've thought in a while." You replied, causing Spencer to smile. "Why did you stay with me?"

Spencer paused for a moment, "I wanted to make sure you were okay. I know we bicker a lot. Well, more than a lot. Probably several times a day, but I still care about you. I-I was.. really scared for you. I don't think I could forgive myself if I let you walk in there and you'd died."

"It wouldn't have been your fault," You tried. Spencer just shook his head.

"It would have been. I should've rationalized it with you. When I saw you, I just thought, 'What have I been doing this whole time? Have I really been wasting my breath arguing with you when we could've made the best team'? I remember when Rossi first introduced you, I was like, 'No way someone this pretty is doing this', when you should've been some model or something." Spencer rambled. He did that, paired with hand fidgeting, when he was nervous. He rambled as he played with your fingers.

You took a breath in, hoping for the best. "Hey, maybe we could, uh, go to one of those team based trivia nights at O'Keefe's?"

"Are-are you asking me out?" Spencer asked.

"Only if you're saying yes." You responded. "I, uh, maybe thought we could start over."

Spencer gave a chuckle, "Yeah, trivia night sounds good. I'd like a retry at this. Maybe we're, uh, meant to be more than just a team."

You smiled at him, knowing that a simple friendship wouldn't be highest point of your new relationship with the genius.

#spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #bau team #criminal minds fandom #dr reid

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permanentswaps · 14 days

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The Body Swap Experiment (Dave's POV)

Check out Cody's POV by @verus-veritas here.

I sat at the table with my family, hiding a small smile behind my fork. My wife was nervously fidgeting, the kids were engrossed in their own worlds, and Cody—poor, unsuspecting Cody—was none the wiser about what was coming. I twirled some spaghetti on my fork, listening to the usual bickering between Mariah and Lucas. They were so caught up in their own teenage drama, they didn’t notice the weighty silence between their mother and me.

“Kids,” my wife finally said, her voice wavering slightly, “we have something important to say.”

As my wife explained Larry’s proposal, I looked at Cody, my youngest adult son.

He was the kid who had all the potential in the world but never seemed to get the breaks he deserved. He was stuck living at home while he juggled community college and part-time work. Meanwhile, I was… well, I was stuck too. At 48, life had lost its luster. I’d had my shot, but mistakes piled up, and regrets weighed heavily on my shoulders. But Cody—he still had time. He had youth, energy, a fresh start.

And I wanted it.

That’s why, when Larry first came to me with this bizarre body-swapping experiment, it wasn’t hard to decide. Sure, we needed the money. But I wanted more than that—I wanted Cody’s life. I deserved a do-over, a chance to fix everything that went wrong in my own.

So I rigged it.

Earlier that day, I had made sure everything was in place. I prepared two separate piles of names: one with just Cody’s name and one with just mine. When the time came for the drawing, I made my move. As I mixed the names in the bowl under the table, I quickly swapped out the pile of Cody’s names with the ones that only had my name on them. I could hardly contain my excitement as I imagined the surprise unfolding.

When Susan drew Cody’s name, I barely suppressed my grin. I took the bowl back from her, stirring it once more and subtly switching the slips for those that only had my name on them before handing it back. It was flawless.

When Susan drew my name, I felt a rush of adrenaline and something else—an unmistakable arousal. The thought of being Cody, living in his body, was driving me wild. I could feel the beginnings of precum in my underwear as the excitement coursed through me.

“That’s settled, then. Cody and I will switch bodies, permanently. Larry is compensating us very well for this, you know. We’ll go to his lab on Saturday.” I said, still trying to hold back my smirk.

Cody’s voice trembled as he practiced saying, “I’m Dad. I’m your Dad, Dave.”

I beamed. “That’s right, Dad!” I said excitedly. “And I’m your son, Cody. I know it sounds a little silly now, because we’re in the wrong bodies, but we’ll fix that on Saturday.”

----

I pushed open Cody’s door without knocking, eager to make sure he understood the seriousness of the situation. The room was dimly lit, and Cody was in the midst of pleasuring himself, his body tensed with focus. He froze, startled by my abrupt entrance, and his face turned a deep red. The shock of the moment was palpable, a mix of surprise and embarrassment etched across his features.

I could barely contain my excitement at seeing him like this. His startled expression quickly shifted to one of frustration and discomfort as he shouted, “Dad! Get out!”

I chuckled to myself, reveling in the awkwardness of the situation. “It’s ‘Cody,’ remember?” I said, attempting to sound casual despite the provocative scene before me. “I just wanted to let you know how thrilled I am that you agreed to this swap—to live in this body for the rest of your life.” My eyes roamed over his toned, youthful physique, taking in the firm muscles and smooth skin. “What’s going on here? Are you jacking off? No worries, I’m a college guy too,” I added with a smirk, unable to suppress my satisfaction. “I do that all the time.” The thought of being him, of living in that body, made me shiver with anticipation.

He was dressed for bed in nothing more than a sweatshirt and boxers. I moved closer, peeling off the sweatshirt to reveal my muscular, hairy chest. The contrast between our bodies was stark—his youthful physique versus my well-maintained, older frame. I could see Cody’s reaction—a mix of horror and fascination—as he took in the sight of me. His embarrassment was almost tangible, and I found myself enjoying it more than I should.

As I slowly removed my boxers, I let him see my full, hanging member for the first time. His eyes widened, and he tried desperately to hide his erection under the blankets, his face flushed with a mix of shame and disbelief.

“DAD! Stop!” he yelled, his voice a strained mixture of panic and distress.

—I could still see it though—damn, he was girthier than I expected.

“It’s ‘Cody’ now,” I reiterated with a smug grin. I relished the discomfort I was causing him, savoring the power dynamics at play. “I’m so looking forward to being a young college jock and hooking up with all kinds of gorgeous girls again.” I sneered, fully enjoying his unease. I turned around, giving him a full view of my ample butt, thick thighs, and muscular stomach.

—Lucky for him, I’ve kept this body in prime condition. Even though I’m older with less time ahead of me, I’ve still got it going on, even if it’s not as much as him.

“Cody,” I said, hearing the hesitation in his voice as he stammered, “Yes, Dad?” I asked, closing the distance between us.

“I-I’m not sure about this… I can’t live in that body…” he stuttered, clearly unnerved by the sight of me and my erect form.

“You’ll get used to it,” I said with a smile, patting him on the shoulder. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, but it likely only added to his discomfort. “Anyway, Mom mentioned that since you’re going to be her husband now, it’s time for you to get used to sleeping in her bed. This is my room now, until I eventually move out. You can wear my boxers if you like.”

I watched him get out of bed, his movements hesitant and uneasy. As he donned my boxers, I couldn’t help but notice the visible discomfort on his face.

“Oh, and one more thing,” I said, stepping closer and standing behind him. I pressed his face against my armpit, feeling the warmth and sweat of my body. “This is what you’ll smell like from now on. Better get used to it, Dad.” I laughed, thoroughly enjoying the dominance of the moment as I rubbed his face against my musk.

---

As Cody stumbled out of the room, I couldn’t help but get rock hard. “This is my room now,” I thought to myself.

Scanning the room, my gaze quickly landed on a pair of Cody's dirty underwear lying on the floor. Lifting the fabric to my nose, I took a deep breath of the potent mix of his cologne and sweat.

A wicked grin spread across my face as I lowered them to my groin and rubbed them against my bare, hard cock. “Soon, this will be my musk,” I grunted, “and these will fit just right.”

I noticed Cody’s phone—well, my phone now- sitting on the nightstand. Curiosity got the better of me. I picked it up, wondering what his password might be. After a moment’s thought, I tried his birthday, and to my amusement, it worked. “Ha, typical kid,” I chuckled, feeling a rush of satisfaction.

I scrolled through the phone’s interface, exploring his apps and messages until I finally found what I was looking for—Grindr. The revelation that Cody was gay wasn’t exactly a surprise, but seeing it so openly on his phone was. I had suspected as much but hadn’t realized how brazen he was about it.

Truth be told, I felt a pang of jealousy. I’ve always been bisexual, but my conservative family and my wife had kept those fantasies in check. I looked down at my soon-to-be former body—massive, muscular, and hairy. People always expected me to be the conservative, dominant type, and I’d played that role to perfection. But, in Cody’s body, I would soon be able to explore that side of myself.

I spent the rest of the night lost in Cody’s Grindr, chatting with guys and getting a taste of his world. I noticed Cody had never actually met up with anyone from the app, which seemed a bit surprising.

I got into a steamy exchange with a guy named Mark. Using Cody’s photos, I sent him some super flirty messages, and he was responding in kind. The way he talked about how he’d take me, how he’d “rail” me on Saturday night—“no arguments”—was unbelievably hot. It felt so freeing to be on the receiving end of that kind of dominance for once. It was like a fantasy coming to life, and what a way to kick off my new life in Cody’s body.

I had been edging myself to our chat for hours, my anticipation building with every message. Finally, Mark sent an video message. His muscles flexing and his voice low and commanding as he told me to ��cum for me, pretty boy.” That was it—his words and the image were the final push I needed. I came hard, right there, all over Cody’s underwear. Fuck this’ll be fun.

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asterias-record-shop · 1 year

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╭════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╮

— fuck his brains out

╰════• ೋ•✧๑♡๑✧•ೋ •═══╯

In which you pretend not to know your boyfriend is Kick-Ass. maybe OOC characters, I got a little carried away, and maybe mixed timeline, I haven't watched the movies in a while... Also, Dave x Mean! reader because who doesn't love that?

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

“I think Kick-Ass is hotter,” you look over at Dave, licking your ice cream almost teasingly. “If I had the chance, I’d fuck his brains out.”

Dave blushed madly, rubbing his cheeks before you stand and tug on his arm. “Dave, I think we should start heading out. You’re walking me home, right?”

Dave nodded quickly, as you thought that it was best because you had been taking care of him since his injury or said that because it had been a while. “Y-Yeah! I will, I’m coming.”

He waved at his friends as you tugged him out, throwing away the napkin that previously held your ice cream cone away. “I mean it,” you said abruptly, smiling over as you held his hand. “I would fuck him so hard he wouldn’t be able to talk.”

“W-Would you?” Dave finally speaks, looking over at you as you smiled.

“Hell yeah I would.”

Later that night, Mindy stared at him as he fixed his mask. “This isn’t a good idea, Dave."

In all seriousness, he really thought she would fight him to make him stay. What he was doing was stupid, but he was about to get laid. By you. The most beautiful girl in the world.

"This," he grinned back at her. "Is an amazing idea. I'm going to get laid so fucking hard."

"What if she wants to take off your mask?"

"She won't."

"What if she recognizes your voice?"

He paused, then smiled. "When I'm nervous, my voice gets higher. She won't recognize it. I'll see you later!"

He ran out, quickly going to your home. How was he going to get in? Would he sneak in through the window you always had unlocked that was right next to your dresser? Or would he throw rocks at your window, begging for you to let him up so you could fuck him?

He started to panic, how the hell would he sneak into your house?

In nervousness, he paced in the back alleyway behind your house before his phone buzzed, your name blaring on the screen.

Y/N 8:57PM come in through the window ;)

It made him pause before he looked at your window, gasping as you stared at him with your body lit in light of your bedside lamp. He could see your bright smile as you gave him a small wave, a gulp echoing through the alley as you opened up the window a bit and leave it open with a hairbrush.

He inhaled deeply as he slowly jumped over the fence, climbing up the tree that led up to the window, easily slipping through after pushing it up before carefully pushing it down. He gasped as he looked back, staring at his reflection through the mirror from where you sat in front of your vanity.

"It's slightly... perverted to sneak into a woman's house, right?" Your fingers rubbed moisturizer into your face like he had seen you do in the nights he slept over. "Dave knows that, but I'm assuming Kick-Ass doesn't."

Dave cleared his throat, pushing his hands to cover the front of his suit, specifically over his crotch. He loved it when you said his name. "I-I uhm... you know Dave as well? I know Dave too."

He watched as you giggled. "I do know Dave, very well. But something's telling me you know him a little better than I do."

He swallowed, humming before making his voice deeper. “I-I’ve known Dave a long time… Y/N.”

“Have you now?” You stood, slowly walking over and swaying your beautiful hips before you stood in front of him. “How long?”

“M-My whole life.”

You giggled as he slowly stepped forward to meet you in the middle, your fingers trailing down his chest as you pressed firm kisses wherever your fingers went and you slowly got down on your knees, your skimpy lingerie-like pajamas. "Did Dave ever tell you what I want to do to you, Kick-Ass? Hm?"

He whimpers, his false persona of confidence never even giving the chance to rise as you kissed over the bulge that he tried to hide. "H-He did... oh fuck, he did."

"Oh, well he didn't have to tell you, right? You knew it because you are Dave, right?" You licked over the material of his suit.

His head lulled back as he nodded, groaning. "R-Right, fucking hell, please! Please, please don't stop."

You scoffed as you stood, pressing your finger to his chest. "I knew it! I knew it, you bastard, why would you keep that from me?! Did you like me gushing over your alter ego?!"

He gasped as you shoved him, a groan falling from your lips. "What? No! No, of course not!"

"For fuck's sake, Dave! What, you're such a virgin that you loved the thought of some girl talking about her fantasies with your alter ego?! Fuck you!" You groaned as you sat on your bed, covering your face to hold back your smile. This had to work.

"No! No, of course not, of course not! I'm sorry, I am so sorry," he whined as he kneeled in front of you, holding your knees. "Please, you have to understand..." He takes off his mask, whimpering as he stared up at you. "I did it to keep you safe. I didn't... I don't want you to be a target."

You inhale deeply as you pulled your hands away from your face, glaring down at him. "You promise?"

"I promise."

He inhaled deeply as you squeezed his face, raising a brow. "Well then, what are you going to do to make it up to me?"

He paused, clearing his throat as you ran your fingers through his hair. "Wh-Whatever you want me to," he whispers, swallowing loudly. "Whatever you want me to do."

Oh, you knew it would work.

Maybe that's how Dave got here, laying on his back as he sobbed underneath your touch, the vibrating cock ring settled right at his base and your tongue licking at his tip, lapping and sucking teasingly. You giggled as he squirmed underneath your touch, your hand pumping him slowly. "I don't know if you've done enough to cum, Dave. I don't think... you've made it up to me."

He whined, shaking his head as he covered his mouth. "No, no please! I'll do anything you want, just please! I need- I need to cum inside of you."

You hummed teasingly, pursing your lips. "Inside of me? You want to ask that much of me? Do you think that you've done enough to get the pleasure of cumming inside of me?"

"Yes!" He whined loudly, groaning. "Yes! Yes, I'll make you feel good, I promise!"

You hummed, pumping him even harder. "No... I don't think you can. A virgin like you? Please."

"I promise! I promise I will, I promise." He whimpered, his hips bucking into the air.

He probably could, to be honest. His cock was bigger than you could ever imagine, his girth barely able to fit into your mouth without making your jaw ache and could barely go down your throat without choking. He had the prettiest dick you'd ever seen, definitely the biggest and girthiest too, just because the last few guys you saw were fucking assholes.

"Maybe I will let you cum inside of me," you mused, humming as you sucked on his tip to make loud popping sound echo across the room. "Maybe, if I'm feeling... nice."

He whined, nodding desperately. "Fuck, please! Please, I'll do anything!"

"Where do you want to cum inside of me, baby? Dave knows I'm on birth control, but does Kick-Ass?" You giggle, rubbing his thighs as you gagged on his cock.

"C-Can I cum i-in your... in your-?"

"You can't even say it, can you?" You giggled as you switched the ring into the highest power, humming. "You want to cum... inside of me, right? That narrows things down a little bit... you want to cum inside my mouth? Or... my ass, that's going to take a minute though. Maybe my pussy? Hm? It's already stretched out for you, Dave. Inside my pussy, inside of my cunt?"

"Y-Your cunt! I want... I want to cum inside of your cunt."

You giggled. "Just don't cum as soon as I take this ring off, alright?"

He let out a loud whimper, nodding as you slowly slip it off, putting it into your mouth to suck loudly, groaning as his taste filled your mouth. He groaned as you take it from your mouth, straddling his hips and holding his cock up. You could feel your eyes roll back, humming as he whimpered. "I-I'm close, I'm so close!"

You giggled as you sunk down onto him, yelling out as he screamed out, groaning with a strong buck of his hips to bottom out inside of you and his cum filling up your stomach. You gasped loudly, whimpering as you held onto his chest, your nails digging into his skin. "H-How are you still cumming?!"

"I-I can't stop," he groaned flipping you over to hold your thighs as he pressed his face into your neck, thrusting his hips. Your eyes rolled back, groaning loudly as the loud slaps of skin against skin filled your room. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good! Better than I could ever imagine, fuck!"

You whined as your nails dug into his back, Dave pulling away for just a second with a grin. "Who's fucking who's brains out now?"

taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪 𓆩[@xyzstar]𓆪 𓆩[@just-my-shit]𓆪 𓆩[@your-mom21]𓆪 𓆩[@c78r]𓆪 𓆩[@dizscreams]𓆪 𓆩[@asrt5]𓆪 𓆩[@xoxomoonlightbabe]𓆪

#asterias-record-shop #with love asteria ♡#kick-ass #kick ass #dave lizewski #dave lizewski x reader #aaron taylor johnson #dave lizewski imagine #dave lizewski x you #dave lizewski smut #dave lizewski x fem! reader #dave lizewski x fem! reader smut

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spencereidluver · 10 months

Text

E is for Even Guys Like Me?

september 12, 2008

summary: You tell Spencer about the conversation you'd overheard with his mother. He gets embarrassed, and even a little angry.

word count: 1.9k

warnings: the slightest teensiest bit of angst. mostly just a lot of spencer crushing for reader

It had been a little over two weeks since you overheard Spencer’s phone call with his mother. You’d been making it your mission to drop little hints at him about your feelings being the same, but they all seemed to just go over his head. You decided it’d be best to find a moment and tell him directly before it’s too late.

You were on a case right now, you and Spencer once again staying back in the PD to work on the intellectual side of things. Though a lot of time was spent together, this was not a time for deep conversations. You’d wait on the case before you said anything. You didn’t want to distract the genius. Because, despite what he had told Hotch in your meeting last month, Spencer did most of the work. You were just there on the off chance that he didn’t know something, which was pretty much never.

Three days went by, you had to try your best to not be too flirtatious with Spencer. He got flustered fast. And you weren’t sure how experienced he was, you didn’t want to move too quickly. Though your guys’ carpooling and coffee sharing was normal, it felt different for you now. More meaningful. You caught yourself blushing sometimes when the tall boy would bring in two cups of coffee, one with his name and one with yours. He’d even begun leaving sticky notes on them sometimes, ever since you did the morning of the phone call. You’ve saved them all in your desk, his handwritten script being some of the most effortlessly beautiful things you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying your eyes on.

_____

You’re seated on the jet on the way home from the case. Directly to your left, is Spencer, who is deeply entranced in a book, “A Study in Scarlet,” by Arthur Conan Doyle, the book that he received in last year’s white elephant gift exchange, which took place before you began working at the BAU. Across from you is Emily and Derek, and Hotch and Rossi are at the booth behind her. JJ stayed home for this case as she is pregnant. She is in charge of files until she gives birth and returns from maternity leave.

The silence in the jet is broken by a head turn from Hotch who clears his throat. “Are you three up for dinner tonight?” He says.

“My treat,” Rossi adds.

“Well, if Papa Dave is paying, then of course I’ll be there,” Emily says.

“Sure, I’ll go,” you said, glancing over at Spencer who hadn’t even looked up from his book. “I’m sure Spence will come too.” Derek kicked you under the table and gave you a wink. His teasings were the main reason you haven't made any moves on Spencer prior to hearing him speak to his mother about you.

Almost on beat, Spencer looks up, “Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll just need a ride if that’s alright,” he said. His eyes met yours.

“I’ll give you a ride, Spence.” Another kick from Derek, this time, you kick him back. Emily catches on to the teasing game of footsies going on under the table and gives you and Derek a cheeky grin. You roll your eyes at the two of them and pull your feet into your lap. Sitting criss-cross now, you pull out your book of crossword puzzles and begin scribbling answers.

_____

You weren’t quite sure how much time had passed. Emily and Derek had fallen asleep, and not a peep had been heard from Rossi or Hotch either. Spencer was still awake and was coming up on the final few pages of his book. He was curled into a small ball against the wall in the corner of the seat, his knees to his chest and feet pointed toward you. His mismatched socks peeked out from beneath his khakis, one pink and one yellow. The shoestring of his left converse was coming untied. Untied! That was the answer to the last line of your puzzle! You subconsciously thank Spencer for his accidental aid to your old woman games, and it’s almost as if he heard it. He looks at his watch, then up at you.

“Hmm, we should be back in Quantico in 17 minutes. Taking to account the wind speed, maybe even 16,” he says. He crinkles his nose and returns to the last pages of his book. You scribble in the final word of your crossword puzzle and begin to pack up. You slide your puzzle book into your small carry on backpack, and begin to clear off the rest of the table. You pick up yours and Emily’s empty coffee mugs and reach around Spencer’s elbows which were rested against the table to grab his. You stack the three mugs together and grab Derek’s plate. Derek was the only person you knew who would eat four pork chops at 3pm, then agree to go to dinner only two hours later.

Spencer sees you take his mug and looks up at you. He gives you a smile and whispers a soft “thank you.”

_____

Spencer was seated on the passenger side of your car. His eyes were following the flashing lights as you drove down the city streets in the darkness. It was 7:30pm. A little late for dinner, but it’s when the jet got back. Plus, you were hungry.

The light was hitting Spencer’s face in a way that made him look ethereal. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything, but you couldn’t help yourself.

“Hey, Spence,” you say, alluding a hum in response. Can I tell you something?”

“Of course,” he looked at you. Somehow, from the repositioning of his head, the lighting somehow hit his face even better. The yellow luminescence shining through the windows made the honey brown of his eyes almost 3-dimensional. It felt as if he was looking inside of you. He was truly breathtaking.

“Okay,” you sigh, “please don’t hate me, but I kind of overheard you and your mom’s conversation…”

“What?”

“Well, just your side. I know I shouldn’t have, but I just couldn’t… I just… I need to-”

Spencer interrupts you. It was dark, but you could tell his cheeks were red. “So you were eavesdropping?”

“Spencer, I’m sorry. I just…”

“How much did you hear?”

“It was only the end. If you would’ve been talking about something personal I would’ve left but-”

“How is me opening up about my feelings for someone not personal?” He seemed a little angry.

“No, it is, and I know I shouldn’t have, but…”

“Yeah, you really shouldn’t have, y/n.”

“Spencer, I…” You looked at the man in the seat beside you. You didn’t want this conversation to upset him. You really wished you hadn’t spoken. You could see the betrayal in his eyes. You felt truly awful.

“You what?” He broke the silence, eyes meeting yours. He stared at you intently.

You took a moment, trying to find the words to say. You didn’t want to break his trust even more. “Spencer, I like you too.”

His eyes were blown huge. “Huh?” “I like you too. I’ve liked you since I first started working here. I didn’t want to try anything because I didn’t know if you felt the same, or if you even date because I know some people with this job don’t. And-”

You were rambling. You were trying your best to defend yourself. Spencer’s eyes were searching your face. He was profiling you. You were telling the truth.

“I, wow. I didn’t know you felt that way, y/n…”

You reached for his hand. It was cold and shaky. You ran your thumb over the back of it, letting it raise and drop with the veins it crossed. He began shaking even more, so you let go. He snaps his hand to his thigh, and with his other hand, traces the tracks you’d left. He smiles to himself and lets out a large sigh.

_____

“You guys have a good night,” Rossi says as he climbs into his luxury sedan. The team had just finished a large dinner and were beginning to head their separate ways.

“Don’t worry, Papa Dave, I’ll get the kid home safe,” Derek says, giving Spencer a playful noogie.

Spencer agreed to a ride home from Derek at dinner. Maybe it was because their houses were only a few streets away from each others’, or maybe, he still felt a little awkward from your previous conversation with him. You didn’t mind all that much though, after all, you’d finally openly expressed your feelings for him. That was enough for one night.

Rossi carefully backs out of the parking lot, leaving you, Spencer, and Derek still remaining. You stuff your hands in your coat pocket; it’s chilly. You want this night to last forever, yet simultaneously, you hoped it’d end right now. You tilted your head toward your car. Spencer understood.

“Derek,” he says, “are you about ready?”

“Yeah, we can head out whenever you want.”

Spencer ran his hand through his hair before turning around to look at you. He gave you a smile. “I’ll see you Monday, y/n.”

“Bye, Spence,” you say, returning the smile.

_____

“Hey, Derek,” Spencer says as he rubs his fingers over his knuckles.

“What’s up, kid?” Derek responds. He looks over to meet eyes with him quickly.

“Can I, um… can I ask you a question?” Spencer looks at Derek like a lost puppy.

“Woah, the boy genius asking me a question? What has this world come to?”

“It’s about girls.”

“Oh. I see.” Derek knew of Spencer’s trouble with girls. Despite the darkness, he could see the light in the skinny man’s eyes. “Come at me, big guy.” He gave Spencer a pat on the back.

“How do I like… ask one on a date?”

“Oooh, who’s the special lady? Hmmm?”

“Derek, I’m being serious. Please.”

Derek could hear Spencer’s plea in his voice. He understood that Spencer was confiding something foreign to him and truly needed the help of an experienced man.

“Well, what does she like? Don’t take her somewhere too extravagant. Maybe a nice dinner or a breakfast date. Start simple and see how it goes.”

“Okay, but like, how?”

“Step one is speaking to her.”

“I have spoken to her… a lot.”

“The main thing, kid, is just to sound confident. Even if you’re not.”

“But what if she says no? Like how do I turn away from that?”

“There’s no reason for her to say no.”

“Yeah, but like… what if she does? What if she thinks I’m weird? Maybe this is a bad idea…”

Spencer was spiraling. Derek reaches over and puts his arm on Spencer’s shoulder. He turns to him, meeting his eyes.

“Even guys like you are capable of love, kid. Any girl would be lucky to have such a kind and caring man like you, okay? Just go with your gut.”

Derek rounded the turn to Spencer’s road.

“Thank you, Derek, really. I’ll let you know how it goes.”

“Have a good night, lover boy.”

“You too, Derek.”

_____

next chapter: F is for First Date

other parts: Spencer Reid A-Z Masterlist

view the masterlist in a calendar version!

_____

a/n: i've spent the most time on this out of any post i have in a while. kinda hit writer's block pretty bad the other day. i'm really hoping i can get the next part out by sunday, but i work all day tomorrow and idk how much time i'll have time to work on it saturday, but i'm trying my best, i promise.

_____

Have Recommendations? visit my recommendations page to submit your suggestion, no matter how big or small!

_____

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#spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x bau!reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencereidluver #spencer reid a-z

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pretty-little-mind33 · 4 months

Text

FEM!READER WITH AN ABUSIVE/TOXIC EX (ft. aaron taylor johnson characters)

warnings: mentions of being in a toxic/emotionally and physically abusive relationship with someone, mentions of violence, sexual themes

includes - in said order

~ James Potter - harry potter marauder's era (yes ik it's technically a fancast but 🥺 he's my baby)

~ Tangerine - bullet train

~ Dave Lizewski - kick-ass

~ Count Alexei Vronksy - anna karenina 2012

~ Tom Ryder - the fall guy

~ @trollsareadorable hope you like this lovie! 🫶 ~

• James is very intuitive. It doesn't seem like he is, but he is. He's just a really caring person so he notices things that others don't.

• If you were friends first, he would have definitely already known that your ex was toxic/abusive and would have hated his guts. "You deserve better than him," or "he doesn't treat you like a gentleman should," type of conversations.

• If you weren't friends first and you were flirting after your break-up, he wouldn't initially think your shyness or your nerves were because anything bad had happened. Instead, he'd find it cute and would be super patient with you and be down to take things at your pace.

• James is a gentleman. His mom raised him right (Euphemia is a queen!) and so the idea of hurting a woman, especially one you're supposed to love, is unthinkable.

• So when you tell him about your ex, about his emotional/physical abuse, he'd be livid.

• James is extra careful with you after that, to the point where you have to tell him you're fine so he'll stop treating you like you're made of glass.

• When you run into your ex one night at a party, James notices you're acting strangely. "Love, are you alright? You look like you're gonna be sick," he'll say as he rubs small circles on your back.

• When you don't answer, he'll ask again. If you snap at him, he'll be hurt but he'll know something is wrong instantly.

• "You can tell me, dove. What has happened?"

• At the first sight of your tears, James's heart breaks and he ends up ushering you into a bathroom and soothingly caresses your cheeks with his thumb. When you tell him you saw your ex, it takes everything in him not to leave you and beat his sorry ass. He could—he has the build for it (okay Quidditch Captain 😵‍💫)

• Instead, he stays by your side and hugs you as you cry into his shirt.

• You're embarrassed for making a mess and crying like a baby but James isn't having it. "Don't be sorry, lovely. It's okay to have feelings and to show them," he'll reassure you. Maybe your ex didn't like when you cried so you tried to hide it from him but James knows you better.

• "C'mon, let's continue having some fun so you can forget about that bloody wanker," he'd kiss your forehead and take your hand, making sure you're next to him all evening. You've never felt happier and safer and your ex is completely forgotten.

• Tangerine has a temper. We all know this—and we all know he also has a potty mouth.

• Maybe you were coworkers first and he noticed how sensitive you were when he would raise his voice, or use some curse-words, but he starts to notice something is really wrong when you're visibly afraid to talk to guys at bars, even if it's just for fun.

• So, he would talk to you about it in private when he has the chance. "Hey, darlin', are ya okay? 'Cause you don't seem okay, y'know that guy at the bar wasn't tryin' to hurt ya, he just wanted to flirt. Did he make ya uncofmrotable," Tangerine's voice would be softer than usual.

• You open up to him, touched he cared enough to ask, and the moment he hears about your ex, he sees red. Tangerine is many things but he would never emotionally hurt or lay a hand on someone he loved ever.

• He looks at you with wide eyes, imagining your fearful expression at the hands of your ex, and his blood boils even more.

• He makes it his mission to help you feel safer around men—around him—and eventually, he falls in love with you and you fall in love with him. It takes you some time to fully trust him, but Tangerine eventually earns your trust because he shows you genuine love.

• He refrains from yelling around you and he doesn't use curse words that would remind you of the disgusting things your ex would call you. He adjusts.

• He's adaptable 😏🍊

• If you see your ex at the bar while you're refilling your drink one evening, you come back to Tangerine and you're friends and you're really quiet. More quiet than usual.

• In the beginning Tangerine is oblivious because he's joking with his friends. However, when you grasp his arm, watching your ex move across the room, he knows something is wrong. He sees where you're looking and turns you towards him gentle, one hand cupped under your chin.

• "Where'ya lookin', luv?" he'd ask and frown when he sees your glossy eyes.

• Tangerine hates when you cry—not because he's mad at you but instead because he hates knowing you're sad enough to cry. It makes him feel helpless, like he'd failed you.

• When you lean into him for comfort and tell him you saw your ex, he frowns and his eyes snap up to find your ex in the crowd. You tell him you're okay and you just want to go home, but Tangerine isn't having it.

• "That bastard hurt you. He doesn't get to get away with it," Tangerine hisses and kisses your forehead, "I'm just gonna go have a little chat with him."

• By little chat he means punching your ex so hard he breaks his nose—which leads to you, Tangerine, and your friends being kicked out of the bar.

• You're secretly very pleased to see your ex in pain and you feel all warm and fuzzy inside knowing Tangerine is willing to protect you like that. You aren't mad at him, especially when he cuddles you back at your shared apartment.

• Dave is shy just like you, so in the beginning of your relationship he doesn't take your shyness as something bad. He likes that you're nervous, because he's also nervous.

• However, he also picks up on cues that something is really wrong—like when you over apologize, or do anything in your power to please him when he's being snappy/in a bad mood.

• Alarm bells ring in Dave's head and he asks you why you feel the need to constantly apologize or make yourself small when you think he wants it.

• Because he could never want that.

• When you tell him, he doesn't know how to react. His blue eyes go wide and his mouth opens. He feels angry and sad and confused all in one overwhelming ball of emotion.

• Who would dare hurt someone as kind and lovely as you? Dave simply doesn't understand.

• "Baby, I'm so sorry that happened to you," he whispers and holds your hand, squeezing, "I promise you I will never ever do anything like that to you. Ever, you hear me? You don't have to walk on eggshells around me."

• If you saw your ex at a party?! Dave would know immediately because you would find him and tell him. You trust him more than anyone and would need him comfort instantly.

• "Shh, you're okay, baby. We can leave if you want, yeah?" he'd say and kiss your cheek, holding your closer to him and ignoring his friends wanting him to stay.

• You see, Dave doesn't confront your ex. Dave isn't a confrontational person. Plus, he'd much rather make sure you're okay than go fight someone. He doesn't want you to see him be violent because it's such a contrast to his usual sweet self.

• But Kick-Ass? Kick-Ass can teach your ex a lesson without any questions or hesitation (he'll def ask Mindy for help bc she'd also be livid that someone hurt you).

• So that's what happens.

• Alexei is a very composed person. He's doesn't often show his anger and he never screams at you. Perhaps you were friend's first and then eventually he asked you to marry him—and that's when he began to see the signs that someone had been very ungentlemanly with you.

• You flinch when you accidentally break his crockery and it makes your cry—apologizing more than necessary which to Alexei isn't normal.

• He's wealthy after all! He can easily afford a new set and something like this shouldn't cause you any distress.

• Then, he sees how you cling to him during social events and always reassures him that when you speak to other men, you have no intention of being unfaithful and they're just friends. You would sound desperate, your eyes pleading with him to understand.

• Alexei never imagined you would and he frowns. "Whatever makes you think I'd assume you would play with another man? I trust you, sweetheart," he would whisper in your ear that evening, kissing your cheek.

• When you finally tell him the cause of your distress—an ex-husband (maybe he died)—and you tell him how he'd treat you extremely poorly and was extremely jealous and possessive.

• Alexei is shocked and disgusted but he is also offended that you would think so low of him and think he'd treat you the same way.

• However, he doesn't become angry and instead sees you need comfort and he whispers soothing words into your ear. "My darling dove, I would never lay a hand on you or make you feel dirty and less than me because you have friends. I am secure in this marriage. I know you only have eyes for me—as I only have eyes for you."

• Steamy, gentle, passionate sex to remind you that you deserve to be praised and worshiped and as your husband it's his duty to do just that. 😛

• Tom is an asshole. His ego is through the roof, he's immature, he mostly thinks of himself, he can be stupid, and he can be inconsiderate and crude. All these things are very very true.

• However, he also craves genuine intimacy and love. He's insecure like that (probably wasn't hugged enough as a child) so he's immediately drawn to your kindness.

• Say you're on the crew of his new movie (a camera girl? Makeup artist? Low ranking actress) and you're visibly nervous around him both because he's Tom Ryder and simply because of his reputation as a player.

• Players make you uncomfortable.

• He sees this and in the beginning, he likes teasing you. He thinks it's funny seeing you become flustered and hide from him.

• He thinks it's funny until one of his jokes goes too far and he makes you cry. Now, it's anything but funny and he feels like an asshole. He's not used to feeling like he's an asshole (he usually thinks too highly of himself).

• So, reluctantly he decides to apologize to you.

• He finds you outside the bathrooms, eyes teary and puffy. "Listen, babe, I didn't mean to make you cry so hard, kay? You look much prettier without all that snot on your face so gimme a smile, huh?" he say, still sounding like a bit of a jerk—he can't help himself—but he's trying.

• You're vulnerable so you end up spilling with a shaky voice that his joke reminded you of something your ex would say and you ramble on and on, unable to calm your mind.

• Tom's speechless (for once) as he listens.

• He may be an asshole, but he isn't abusive towards anyone he truly cares for so he doesn't understand your ex. He's now mad at himself and he's also secretly honored you opened up to him.

• He isn't use to sincerity or someone truly revealing themselves to him. He likes the feeling.

• Over the next weeks, he's kinder to you and he writes you little sticky notes and leaves them in your trailer/locker/wherever your stuff is with weirdly endearing messages.

• It's kinda sweet and eventually you crack.

• Tom Ryder is a surprisingly decent boyfriend. Sure, he still has an ego and he's still sometimes a jerk—but it's obvious he genuinely cares for you.

• He's by your side whenever you can be, reassures you when you're insecure and nervous around him and he's gentle with you.

• He knows you need that.

• "My sweet girl," he whispers in your ear between takes, making you feel like the only girl in the world, "So good for me, aren't you? I love you so much."

• And if he ever sees your ex and you end up crying or upset because of the jack-ass, he'll get his security team to hurt him. Badly.

• And then he'll buy you whatever you want to make you feel better! He likes spoiling you and he obviously has the money to do so.

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pedgito · 3 months

Text

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐃 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄 | Dave York x reader

summary | Dave was the exception to your rule, fortunately. But, he still wanted to do things the right way, his way.

author's note | @pr0ximamidnight is partially responsible for this, constantly feeding me ideas and tiktoks, which birthed this baby.

content warning | 18+ smut, divorced!dave, soft-ish!dave, age gap (unspecified), dating apps, g*n play (consensual), oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, this has an unnecessary amount of backstory, i wrote this during gremlin hours don't judge me

word count —6k

They never make it past the third date. Ever.

Except for Dave.

You’ll give him credit where it was due–he was older, wiser, and more charming than any man who you’ve swept right for on these awful dating apps you’ve tried out in the past year. And by an even crazier chance, you had met him in person; a run-in at a coffee shop that would have usually ended in one of you spilling coffee on the other, but actually ended in him stealing your drink and you his own.

He’d only been halfway paying attention when they called out the order instead of the name, subconsciously assuming he was next, he had swiped it up without a thought and left you dumbstruck and being slid a black coffee with a look of apology from the barista who knew he had just walked off with your drink.

Usually, you would brush it off. Spend another fifteen minutes waiting for a fresh drink, but not that time. You had chased him down, a block from the coffee shop and a sharp right and you were on his heels, his face buried in his phone and the coffee cup hanging from his fingertips in his right hand, clearly undrank.

“Hey,” You shout exasperated, but he doesn’t whip his head around like you expect. You huff, jogging a little closer until you can tap at his shoulder and as if his reflexes had kicked in, he turns on his heels and has a sudden look of annoyance, not much different than the one he held in the coffee shop but his brow was more pinched—until you hold up the coffee cup that belonged to him.

It had a name on the ticket—you looked it over. Dave. Black coffee. Six shots of espresso.

Your eyes widen at the sheer amount and you pass it over, watching as he stuffed his phone in his pocket, “Six shots? That’s—”

“Not nearly enough,” He grumbles, swapping out the drinks with a surprisingly gentle grip.

He’s dressed for work, donning a charcoal gray suit with a maroon button-up. He looks official, stoic, and serious, intimidating in a way that makes you want to shrink away.

He takes a peek at your order before he passes it off completely, smirking slightly at the sheer amount of caffeine you had ordered for yourself—not in the form of a straight black coffee and an insane amount of espresso shots, but it was calling a spade a spade.

You both clearly had your vices.

After that, he’s a familiar face. Someone you see the Monday mornings after a terrible Sunday night date, rubbing at tired eyes as you reach for your coffee, and eventually he finds himself more curious than he should be, wondering how someone at your age could seem so…burdened. Not that it wasn’t possible, but it was clear that you never ended your weekend on a high note, and burying the shittiness under a mountain of sugar and syrup was your way of coping.

Fortunately, the coffee machine had been on the fritz one particular Monday which lent you a moment of conversation that was surprisingly refreshing given your unfamiliarity with each other.

He slaps the back of his phone against his palm as he does a quick glance over your figure, hunched under the protection of your sweater you chew at your bottom lip, staring down at your feet.

“Rough weekend?” He asks casually, looking over at you curiously.

You could smell his aftershave, the rich scent of expensive cologne.

You weren’t sure why he was speaking to you, but you answered anyway.

“That easy to spot?” You volley with him, glancing up at him briefly before leaning into your hip.

“Comes with experience,” He shrugs, seeming far more approachable than you would have expected. You conspicuously track your eyes over him, how perfectly put together he was, not a piece of his outfit out of place, aside from the prominent tan line on his ring finger.

Married. Or…was married. You didn’t feel it was your position to throw that kind of question at a stranger.

“Oh,” You feign intrigue, feeling the words slip out before you can stop them, “plenty of experience in the field of dealing with men who can’t be bothered to hold a thirty minute conversation and expect you to fuck them after the first date?”

You’re expecting him to balk and walk away, wonder what the hell was wrong with you—but instead, he smirks again. More prominent than the first time.

“Sorry,” You apologize meekly, “that was—It’s been a rough morning.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dave brushes it off, his name sounding in your head again as it comes to you, “and no—I don’t, but still—a bad weekend is a bad weekend.”

You raise your eyebrows slightly as you nod in agreement and it is within that small distraction of conversation that the machine comes roaring to life again, but instead of walking toward the counter to order, Dave slips in front of you.

You have half the mind to tell him to fuck off for cutting, but when you hear your coffee order spilling out of his mouth you stare at him wildly, giving him a look of confusion after he pays, scribbling away at a receipt before he turns and walks silently toward the other side of the shop to fetch his coffee order. You follow wordlessly, obediently as he nods at you.

“Consider it returning the favor for the first time I screwed up with our orders,” He tells you, smiling at the barista she slides the two cups into his hands—he shoves yours into your open palm, receipt tucked against the cup with his thumb as it transfers to you, “and fuck those guys.”

You laugh softly, sipping gingerly at your coffee as he departs with a half-smile, footsteps clicking against the tile floor as he departs with a hand shoved into his pocket as he shoulders open the door. The receipt is long forgotten and tucked into your pocket.

It isn’t until hours later as you're throwing your coat over the back of your couch that the paper floats to the floor, staring at you like it had its own set of eyes. You pluck it up curiously and pull apart the crumbled-up ball, noting the smudged black ink scribbled on the back of the receipt.

Third date is the rule, right?

Followed by his name and a haphazardly scribbled number.

So, not married. Definitely not married.

You text him without a second thought, finding that his response is almost immediate.

Suddenly, you needed to know all about him.

—

And you made that your mission.

Texts turn into calls, sparse and spread out but it was kept light in the beginning. General small talk, and occasional flirting, but still you had far too many questions. The one thing you do learn is that he was divorced, not newly, thankfully. It had been a couple of years and he admits very early on that he doesn’t do this often.

Whatever that meant.

He’s older, but you don’t feel the need to address that. He knows you’re in college, mid-twenties, but beyond that, you’re just a puzzle he’s piecing together on his own. Learning about you over the following weeks with a refreshing interest you haven’t been privy to before.

Your first date happens on a Saturday, a late night and last minute plan due to his often changing work schedule. It was shitty food at a small diner in town but it didn’t matter.

Eventually, he does slip up and admit that his work is freelance—but under what pretenses you weren’t sure, always skirting around the subject. And usually, you would see the immediate red flags, but that doesn’t happen. He seemed like a private person and maybe over time…

He doesn’t ask you the much-anticipated question after your first date, but he does kiss you.

It was soft and quick, fleeting in a moment as he walks you to your doorstep and leaves you reaching for more, but all you’re left with is a smug smile as he climbs into his car.

The second date is fancier, a few weeks later between occasion phone calls that would last longer than they needed, but you didn’t mind, sometimes Dave liked listening to the sound of your voice, he’d admitted at one point—Dave had planned this date out in advance at a nice restaurant in the uptown area of the city, giving you dress code requirements, exceptions, and all of it is entirely overwhelming.

But, it fades the moment his hand touches your waist.

There wasn’t a feeling of fear or an immediate urge to run away. It was protection, the warm and steady touch of him at your back just felt safe and it went against every fiber of your being to feel this way about someone so easily. But, the way Dave winks down at you as you fumble with the bracelet hanging loosely around your wrist reminds you that you have nothing to worry about.

The dinner is ridiculous, for you—convoluted meal courses with silly names that have you furrowing your brow in confusion as you look up at Dave who only seems entertained by your amusement, feeding you a piece of the shared dessert with the single fork they had served with the plate. It was intimate and shocking how easily you gave in tointo it and followed his lead.

Trusted him.

You aren’t sure if it was his original plan, but he ended up at your place later that night.

He does walk you to your door again, but you’re not as easy to let him go this time. A few flutes of wine in your system and you’re far too clingy to let him slip away—begging, pleading for a few extra minutes.

“I’ll give you a quick tour,” You tell him softly, a sultry tone to your voice as your bottom lip pulls between your teeth and your hand's slide off the lapel of his peacoat, dragging him backwardinto the door that leads to your apartment building, “seriously—just a few minutes.”

“Sweetheart,” The endearment slips out despite himself, but he doesn’t thwart you off, his hand twisting and intertwining with your own as you lead him toward the elevators.

“Third date rule, remember?” You tell him, smiling sweetly, “Don’t worry, I’ll behave.”

“I’m counting on it.”

—

As promised, Dave only stays for a short time. However, the tour was a total lie.

You kiss him gently as the door closes behind him. Quick, closed-mouth pecks that are driving Dave insane, but he grips your biceps, pulling you back with ease.

“Behave,” The gruffness in his voice brings you back to the surface, “you promised.”

Dave has never lacked self-control, but with you, it was nearly impossible.

Luckily for him, you felt like following your self-set rule, but it doesn’t stop you from cuddling up on your couch for a brief time, a hand combing through his thick, perfectly quaffed hair—though the same couldn’t be said now, slightly askew as he squeezes at your thigh when you pull at a few strands too hard.

“Ask it,” Dave says suddenly, seeing the apprehensive look in your eye, “whatever it is.”

“I’m just curious,” You tell him honestly but quietly, your eyes dragging up his face until they meet his own, “about you—I feel like I know bits and pieces, but nothing…real.”

He grunts, a non-committal response.

“I can keep your secrets,” You tell him like a sacred promise, “no judgment, either.”

His thumb drags over your nose in a sweet, gentle manner before it lands at your chin, cupping the side of your face as he begins to speak in the quiet room.

“I have two kids,” He admits, “—two girls with my ex-wife. We share custody but because of work…it makes it harder to see them often.”

You make a face, one that conveys sadness, a feeling of empathy as his gaze drifts off behind you while his fingers massage gently into the back of your neck.

“Don’t do that,” He pleads, “don’t feel like you need to–”

“You are the first guy in eight months that hasn’t tried to fuck me within two hours of meeting me,” You tell him, a soft giggle bubbling in your throat, “There is no need, Dave.”

“It’s taking…a lot of effort on my behalf,” He admits with a soft laugh, his normal monotone and emotionless face cracking with a smile, “I’m trying.”

“I just—I don’t want you to feel like you need to be careful with me,” You assure him, “I won’t break that easily. I’ve shared with you, I want you to feel like you can do that with me.”

“Tell me something else about yourself then,” He waits, your mind trialing away for a moment, thinking.

“I feel like I never have control over anything—my life, my relationships,” You sigh, “it…it is a lot deeper, I think. But, I don’t know how to fix that. Sometimes it feels pointless.”

Dave nods slowly, and thoughtfully.

“I can teach you control, sweetheart.” Dave assures you, “Do you want that?”

The intensity in his eyes is new, but it doesn’t scare you. Instead, you find yourself nodding obediently. He kisses you that night again, more intensely than he ever has, a hand fisted into your hair, your body curled around him and it is nearly impossible to let him go.

—

The third date is intimate, as you had expected.

He invites you to his place and it takes you a few minutes after hearing him say it for the words to click in your head, until he reiterates it again and you agree eagerly.

It was how you ended up on his couch after a full, delicious meal that Dave had cooked you himself and the drone of a local news channel playing on the television as you curledl up at his side, taking in the sights of his own apartment. It was so…detached. No family pictures, no drawings, no personal artifacts outside of expensive art and sculptures that had to cost more than a month of your own rent, maybe even two.

“How can you afford this?” You ask harmlessly, eyes dragging up to the gaudy chandelier hanging overhead, “I mean, your living room is the size of my entire apartment.”

“I’m not a starving college student,” He jokes, taking your playful jab in stride, “—this is just a temporary space, sweetheart. I…travel a lot for work, I’m only ever here maybe one week out of the month really.”

It explained why your dates were so spaced out and why phone calls and texts were preferred over an in-person meeting. But, he’s still skirting around the topic and it heightens your worry the tiniest bit.

“My turn to ask a question?”

You nod.

“If I had tried to fuck you on the first date, would you have let me?”

You smirk slightly, knowing the answer despite your distaste for the other men.

“I’ve had…really bad experiences any time I break that rule,” You admit, “it’s another situation where I feel like I’m losing control and it quickly turns into something I’m not interested in. I want to say no, but the answer is probably yes.”

Dave’s eyes go pensive, his gaze dragging to the small gap between you both, the arm slung over your shoulder stopping for a moment, but his touch remains, his fingertips against the slope of your neck and he’s fighting something within himself. You can see it.

“Just say it, Dave,” You find yourself pleading with him, “I think we’re beyond the realm of a third date. Whatever it is, I promise not to judge.”

“I know I told you I work freelance, but it’s…more than that,” He looks around, wondering if he should flee now and escape this conversation, but your gaze is heavy and unrelenting, “I used to work for the government, but things happened. Now, people hire me too—”

The gears are working overtime in your head, putting things together as he speaks, and really—it should have been more obvious, that far disconnected from his personal life, and the unwillingness to share information so freely.

“You’re a hitman?” You break the tension and spit out the word he’s dancing so carefully around.

“More or less,” He nods, carefully examining you to gauge your reaction.

“I mean, you’re not just…going around killing innocent people, are you?”

“Only the people that deserve it,” He doesn’t want to go into detail, already seeing the disconnect on your face, “It isn’t—it’s not something I’m doing often and it isn’t shit that I take lightly. It’s also not at all ethical and if you want nothing to do with me now, knowing that, I can respect that—”

“Would you kill me?”

Dave looks at you incredulously, “No—what kind of question is—”

“Then—” You shrug, “it isn’t my business, unless you want to make it my business.”

“You are…something,” Dave says aloud, his thoughts trickling from his mind to his mouth.

You smile, tilting your head as you rest it against the back of his couch.

“Did you still want a lesson in control?” Dave asks curiously.

You nod silently.

“Do you trust me?”

“So much,” You admit, “it’s a little embarrassing.”

Dave sits up then, nodding toward a far-off room you hadn’t been privy to exploring yet.

“Follow me.”

—

His bedroom is large, but it isn’t anything surprising. It’s dull colors and clean, almost sterile. But, you still wander—and he allows it, lingering as he unbuttons his cufflinks and strips himself of his button-up shirt. You run your hands over the soft sheets on his bed and climb on carefully, feeling your dress ride up with the movement, the cold touch of the comforter bringing you back to reality.

“I wanna try something,” Dave admits, tilting his head to meet your gaze from across the room, “—and I need to hear it again, that you trust me.”

“I do,” you nod easily, “I trust you.”

“Take your dress off,” He instructs and you’re slightly confused, but you follow his direction and pull the dress over your head, bare breasts spilling out with the lack of bra you decided to go without and Dave’s gaze lingers, heats up, his movements only slightly more hurried as he works at his slacks, “lay down—close your eyes.”

You laugh quietly at the absurdity of his clinical tone of order, but the weight of him as the mattress dips has your body pulsing at the thought, cunt throbbing at the smallest hint of his smell that you’ve become so accustomed to.

“I’m going to put something in your hand,” Dave tells you, “only open your eyes when I say so, alright?”

You nod obediently and unfurl your hand, feeling a heavy weight press into your palm and another hand trail down the inside of your thigh, squeezing at the junction where your inner thigh meets your cunt, and then his other hand is grabbing your hand, and curling it around the object and your senses do the work for you, unfortunately—

“Dave, is that a—” Your heart races in a panic as your eyes rip open, “is that a fucking gun?”

“Baby, calm down,” He soothes, and weirdly, it works, “the safety is on.”

He retrieves the gun that has fallen from your grip and returns it, dragging the weight up until your hand is resting between your legs, the barrel of the gun pressing into the skin just above his belly button, watching as his bare stomach flexes against the cool touch of the gun. It was then that you had a moment to admire—you figured this line of work required him to keep some kind of strict regime for himself, but it wasn’t clear until now. He’s wide, and broad, but you already knew that much. He’s not ripped in a sense, but he looks—feels strong, his tight grip on the inside of your thigh an immediate sign and he breathes, pushing against the barrel.

“You want control? I’m giving it to you.”

“Dave, this seems a little—”

He guides the barrel down, down, until the weight of it catches against the front of your underwear and guides your hand in slow, careful circles as the tip of the gun catches your clit and you find your pussy quivering at the action, but not out of fear.

You were turned on and Dave knew it.

“I want you to be comfortable around it,” He admits, and oddly, it makes your heart ache, “but if you don’t like this—we can stop.”

You find the gun dragging back toward his abdomen at his words and the smile on his face is immediate. Dave doesn’t move a fucking inch.

“No.”

“There’s my girl.”

His thumb replaces the barrel, rubbing slow circles over your clothed clit, and his eyes are locked on you, somehow managing to make everything else fade in comparison.

“Can I taste you?”

It sounds lewd, more than it should. Like an animal dying for a taste, He can feel the warm, wet spot forming in the patch of underwear covering your cunt and he needs it, but only if you’ll allow it.

You nod, the barrel slowly crawling up his chest as he lowers himself, fingers hooking into your underwear as he pulls them down, tilting his head up to look at you as his warm breath fans over cunt, “Put it against my head,” He suggests rather than orders, and you’re hesitant for a moment before he’s giving you that nudge, his tongue dipping into your cunt without warning as he’s lapping up the center of your pussy, groaning as the barrel presses front and center to his hairline and your back arches, fingers still carefully off the trigger but tightly wrapped around the grip and you moan, so loudly you find yourself trying to muffle the sound with your hand.

“Soundproof,” Dave notes, “don’t hold back, baby.”

He doesn’t either, his fingertips digging into your thighs as he spreads you wide, broad shoulders giving you no relief as he licks, quick and practiced tongue flicks over your clit until you’re keening, the gun trembling in your grip as he presses his head further into the barrel, leaning down until he can slip his tongue inside of you, grunting at the way you cry out, walls pulsing around his tongue.

He pulls away suddenly, featherlight kisses over your pussy, gentle lips over your mound and it feels like it’s all in an effort to tease—you’ve never gone this far before with him but somehow he was already in tune with your body, and frankly, you’ve been waiting too long for this to allow him to drag out your release any longer than you’ll allow.

He grins as the barrel pressed more firmly at the center of his forehead, a silent demand. But, he’s not satisfied.

“Tell me. With your own words.”

“Make me come,” You order him, another firm press, “now.”

He buries his face into your cunt without another word, nose pressed against your clit as you felt yourself clench around the work of his tongue and fingers, the breach of one, as it pushed inside of you, had you squirming under his touch. Your grip on the handle slips but Dave is there, hand wrapping around your own to keep it firm as he hums, lapping you up greedily.

Your eyes are half-open, stuck staring at the plain ceiling as your head tips back, gasp caught in your throat as he doesn’t relent, his mouth moving over your clit to suck, alternating between that and precise flicks of his tongue before you’re curling over the edge with a loud moan, all while Dave’s hand slips to the barrel, keeping at steady while he admires you, the strain in your neck as you shout, legs shaking around his head as he finally gives you some relief, trapping him there as he cleans up the mess between your thighs.

He rises slowly then, gun trailing down until it drags against his chest, watching it indent in his skin until you’re pressing it against the bulge in his boxers, the dark material hugging his thighs and you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, and nod as his fingers trace over his waistband, still unmoving despite your eager eyes.

Take control.

“Take them off,” You tell him, the end of the gun tucking itself between the fabric, a playful smile pulling at your lips, “I wanna taste you, too.”

He hesitates, his palms pressing against your knees as he tilts his head slightly, “This is about you, sweetheart.”

“And what I want is your dick, in my mouth—is that too much to ask?” You pout slightly, dropping the gun to the comforter as you pull at his waistband but his hands stop you—maybe you weren’t as in control as you thought, it was all just metaphorical and Dave was into some weird shit.

“I’ve got…plans, for that,” Dave hints lightly, grinding his bulge into your palm as you press it against his clothed cock, “how about—you let me fuck you? I did make it to the third date, after all.”

He wanted you to be selfish—to soak up all the pleasure he was attempting to offer. He knew your past hookups couldn’t have been great; short three-minute fucks on the bed inside some dirty apartment of the man you had selected for that weekend, this was about you.

He wasn’t trying to control you, but rather guide you.

“Plans?” Your ears perk up as you lean forward, one hand tucked behind you for support as you squeeze at his cock over the fabric, his hand sliding over your neck to caress your cheek, his thumb rubbing over the curve of your lips before tilting your head up, “Who said I keep things going after the third date?”

He can see the inkling of playfulness in your expression as he surges forward suddenly, getting his hands underneath you and pulling your hips over his own, squeezing at your thighs as you instinctively ground yourself down against him, a wet patch forming in his boxers.

“Grab it,” He nods to the lone weapon.

It feels feeble now, just a prop. Sure, it made your heart race at the weight of it in your hand—that it was real, but you knew there was no real danger. Still, you play along.

You pick it up, examining it leisurely as you move your hips, “Have you killed anyone with this?”

Dave nods silently, his eyes following the line from your abdomen to your cunt, watching as your cunt dragged over the material and he doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so badly, his thumbs pushing at his waistband, but the jerk of the gun being set effortlessly in your grip and placed at the center of his chest startles him for a brief moment.

“Say it.”

“Yes,” He answers, “I have—does that scare you?”

You nod absently, helping him as you lift your hips and let him push his underwear down his legs, kicking them off haphazardly as you drag your bare cunt against him and his mouth falls open slightly, his eyes still closely following your face, waiting for your response.

“No,” You shake your head, because as much as it should—it didn’t.

“It turns you on, doesn’t it?” Dave teases, feeling the subtle flex of your fingers into his chest with the hand that you had free, the barrel dragging up slowly until it forced his chin higher, resting just against the center of his throat.

“Maybe,” You reply, “does that scare you?”

“Baby, nothing scares me anymore.”

You flick off the safety in the heat of the moment, but there’s no reaction, not even a flinch.

“I wouldn’t have given you that if I didn’t trust you,” He ignores the way your face softens, a frown forming on your face, “Don’t—don’t worry. You won’t, I know you won’t.”

He guides your hips up as your eyes stay locked on the weapon at his throat, finger off the trigger but your heart is hammering in your chest, afraid that even one small movement would be a mistake. But, there was something in the way his jaw flexed, pressing his throat even further against the end of the gun as he slid into you, hand fisting his cock as your mouth fell open in a silent gasp, sinking further and further, until he was rooted inside of you.

“Don’t think,” He tells you, “just move, baby—take.”

Take it, claim this. Him.

It dawns on you in the heat of the moment, mind partially clouded that this was the craziest thing you’ve ever done, especially for someone you were fucking for the first time.

But weirdly, you felt comfortable—and you knew if you wanted to stop, Dave would allow that. Still, you didn’t.

You rock your hips slowly, free hand gripping his shoulder as his own fingers dig into your skin, aiding in the rise of your hips as his own lifted and smacked into yours with a quickly building intensity. No words were shared, just sounds breathed into each other’s skin.

He trails a hand up the center of you, curled around your face as his thumb presses against your bottom lip, pulling until it touches your teeth and you finally understand, taking the digit into your mouth and sucking.

Dave’s thrusts are rough, precise. It hits a spot so deep inside of you that your entire body aches at the feeling, rubbing against your g-spot with every stroke, feeling your eyes roll back in your head as he forces his thumb down on your tongue, a wordless communication as the the gun slips with you fleeting mind, but he’s there with his hand on the barrel to keep you steady.

“Come,” You command, “come inside of me.”

And his sanity be damned, he was. He didn’t care what the aftermath would bring—he’d do whatever you needed him to, silently praying that you weren’t that reckless.

You wouldn’t have asked otherwise.

Your nails dig into the muscle of his broad shoulder and his hips jerk at the feeling of you squeezing down on him, your thumb hesitantly pulling back at the hammer of the gun—he knows that sound and he feels the vibration of it against his throat as he comes, it hits him like a force.

He grunts through gritted teeth, rocking your hips with every weakened thrust as he pulses inside of you, still having half the mind to swat the gun away carelessly, his demeanor changing on a dime after you’ve had your fill of him. You shout softly as he rolls, trapping you underneath him with his hips and hands, shoving your palms under the pillow, and settling between your legs.

Your first instinct is to reach out, and touch him.

“Don’t,” He warns, “don’t move.”

You freeze, hands squeezing at the silk pillowcase, fabric bunching on your grip as he reaches for the gun.

“I want you to come again,” He demands, flipping the gun in his grip, the barrel pointed at you now.

“Dave—“

“Again,” His eyes flick down, “—get creative.”

You take a shallow breath, eyes pleading.

But, you knew you could. You wanted to, especially with him looking at you so hungrily, unexpectedly pushing his cum back into you with two fingers as you felt it seep out, a touch so delicate that it gives you whiplash against the dark dichotomy of his tone.

“Hold—hold it against me,” You tell him, “please?”

“You’re asking?”

“Do it,” You sound more steady and he moves with hesitation, pressing the tip of the barrel against your swollen clit, already too sensitive and the moment he presses the cold metal there your entire body shutters, mouth dropping open in shock, “fuck—I’m too sensitive.”

“Or I can fuck you with it, is that what you want?”

There’s a brief moment of intrigue that crosses your features and Dave can’t help but chuckle, his cheeks dimpling with the emotion.

“You’re trouble,” He admits, “so much fucking trouble.”

You rock your hips against the hard, but somehow dull edge, knowing that it would only take a few seconds but you were teetering, riding that line and needing more.

“Dave, please—your fingers,” You squirm, eyes squeezing shut as you grip the pillowcase so tight it might rip under the stress, “put them inside of me.”

Thankfully, he does. It’s the crook of his middle finger and the weight of the gun against your clit that pulls you over the edge a second time, vision whiting out as you came and forcing a broken sob from your chest, finding that the emotion floods you in an instant.

It wasn’t sadness, just a feeling that overwhelmed you.

Pleasure, peace, and with Dave staring at you with such adoration you weren’t sure how you’ve gone this long in your life without him.

You sigh shakily, “Fuck, that was intense.”

“Hey, sweetheart, look,” Dave cocks the gun back and your eyes draw to the weapon, showing that it was empty—it had never even been loaded, “it was all about control, alright?”

You laugh lightly, the absurdity of the situation sending you into a temporary delirium. Dave recocks the gun and flicks the safety back on, placing it on his nightstand before he’s tending to you, pulling at your arms and rolling over onto his back. You cuddle against his chest wordlessly, his soothing hands on your back a constant presence as he fumbles for the blanket, covering you both.

“I’ve never done that before,” You admit quietly.

“Did you enjoy it?”

He doesn’t know why he’s asking, he already knows the answer.

“I trust you, so much,” You admit, “I don’t even know—“

“I wouldn’t have attempted that on a first date,” Dave tells you, “just so you’re aware.”

“Oh, so the gun has a three date rule, too?”

He knows you’re being coy.

“It has a you rule, sweetheart. If you had said no, I wouldn’t have questioned it.” He tells you, feeling your heart swoon despite the absurdity of the situation, “Being behind the barrel of a gun, pointing it—it’s that surge of adrenaline. The control of the situation. I wanted you to feel that.”

You stay silent, lost in thought as you stare at him, watching as his gaze flicks down at you briefly with a knowing smirk, “Plus, I never would have handed you a loaded gun—not when you don’t know anything about gun safety. Was that your first time holding one?”

You nod meekly, wondering if he was going to feel regret.

“Would you teach me? If I asked?” You ask suddenly.

“How to use one?”

“I mean, is there a better person to ask?”

Dave chuckles dryly, a faint smile showing that quickly disappears.

“I’ll teach you, baby. As long as I get a fourth date.”

“You can have as many as you want. Five. Ten—“

“Careful,” He chided, “there’s still stuff you don’t know. About me.”

“I want to,” You assure him, “in your own time—as much as you’ll tell me. I can wait.”

Dave feels like he’s taking advantage of your kindness, your blind willingness to trust him. But, it has been so long since he’s had this—a confidant, someone who he could connect with without judgment.

He knows you’ll find a reason to run eventually, they always did.

“How do you feel about Paris?” He asks suddenly.

“It’s…pretty? I’ve never been but it seems alright.”

“Are you free next weekend?”

Your eyes widen at the implication.

“Dave—“

“Is that a yes?”

You nod shyly.

“Perfect,” He mouths into your hair, pressing a kiss against the scalp, “pack something fancy to wear.”

“How fancy?”

“Absurdly fancy,” He chuckles.

Because if there was one person who could get you to agree to anything, it was Dave.

#dave york x reader #dave york x you #dave york x y/n #dave york fanfiction #dave york fic #the equalizer 2 #dave york smut #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #my writing #literally who am i writing for DAVE

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the-thing-withfeathers · 12 days

Text

home away from home

requested

a/n: my first emily fic y’alllll 😫😫😫 i love her so bad i just had to write for her she is sooo foine. tysm anon for giving me the chance 🤸

pairing: unit chief!emily prentiss x f!reader

warnings: mention of gore, murder, blood, sensitive imagery & topics. smut!!, cursing, getting caught

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

“wheels up in 30.”

as much as you loved your job, you hated being away for extended periods of time. you hated airplanes and you hated the long travel, it stressed you out. your home— your house, specifically, was your safe place. you hated leaving it for too long.

your family was also back home. with the job came a lot of paranoia that something would happen to your family. you’d seen it happen with your co-workers, you were sure you weren’t an exception.

you grabbed your go-bag from under your desk, sighing and slinging it over your shoulder. you didn’t look pleased at all.

you were about to walk towards the doors when you were stopped by emily. you had been seeing the woman for a while now, you didn’t have an established relationship as you both were incredibly busy and valued separating personal life and work life. but you would be lying if you said you didn’t care for her.

“hey, what’s wrong?” she asked, her brows furrowed as she placed a hand on your shoulder.

“nothing, i just hate being away from home so much.” you rubbed your forehead with your pointer finger and thumb.

“i know… but we all go on break soon. it’s just a little bit more.” she frowned. “i’m sorry, i know you get worried about your family.”

“it’s okay, it comes with the job. it’s what i signed myself up for.”

she pulled you closer, you almost folded into her warmth but you realised you had others around you.

“it doesn’t make it any better.”

“you’re right… it doesn’t.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you sat next to emily on the plane. you usually kept yourselves distant as you usually sat with spencer and derek, goofing about like you all usually did.

today was different, you needed to be around her. she gave you a comfort that nobody else was capable of. you tried not to let your feelings take you so harshly but in this case, it was all feelings.

spencer eventually set up a game of chess, gesturing to you across the plane. you nodded and stood up, needing to take your mind off things. emily watched you as you made your way to spencer.

you were no match for him during the game. you were only really at your learning stage, but he was impressed with you nonetheless. you always did your best with the resources provided, and that was what he valued the most.

“you’re not a good opponent. we’re at completely different skill sets.” you rolled your eyes in defeat.

“well if you never play against someone with a higher knowledge of these things, you’ll never improve.” he said, leaning back in his chair.

“i suppose you make a fair point.” you huffed.

you got the announcement to prepare for landing and made your way back over to emily. she was on her phone, looking through the digitized version of the case file.

you sat down next to her and buckled up your seatbelt. you looked around the room, when you saw that everyone was focused on something else, you reached for emily’s hand. she intertwined your fingers and you squeezed her hand as the plane landed.

you hated planes.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

the team made their way to the precinct, you were assigned with dave and derek to investigate the crime scene.

you felt yourself hesitate, holding back like you would be sick to your stomach upon seeing the crime scene.

“an entire family dead. they were all facing each other, tied up to chairs.” penelope said, flicking through the picture. you felt your head spin, cases that involved families made you feel the ultimate amount of discomfort.

you shook the thoughts in your head away, walking into the household behind dave. the bodies were moved but the chairs were still there. you walked around the scene, seeing the symbols and words written in the family’s blood.

you felt absolutely sick, like you might throw up. you let dave & derek take the lead on examining the scene, only chiming in every now and then.

you stayed to the side as they took pictures. david walked over to you.

“what’s on your mind, kid?” he asked you. you always allowed yourself to be honest with david.

“it’s just horrible… two of them were so young.” you whispered. “it’s disgusting that someone could just do this to them.”

“it is… is it hitting close to home?” he was too good at reading you.

“a little bit. i just worry about my family.” you shrugged.

“that’s fair enough. you’ve been working a lot of hours too, i’m sure you miss them.” david nodded. “you’ll have to see them when you’re back.”

“that’s the plan.”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

you all met back at the hotel for the night. you gathered in dave’s room to share information before retreating to your rooms.

you and emily were paired together. this was a normal occurrence nowadays, you knew emily was riggging the rooms so you two would be together. the thought made you smile— the first one you’ve cracked all day.

she slid the card into the door that allowed you to enter your bedroom.

the entire team had rooms with two beds, including the two of you, but you usually ended up sharing the bed anyways.

you chucked your bag onto one of the beds, plopping down onto the other one. you groaned softly and didn’t even take your clothes off and just tucked right in.

“you tired?” emily asked, tilting her head and joining you on the bed.

“not really, just mentally drained.” you clarified, opening the blanket to let her in.

“i’m sorry. anything i can do to help?” she asked, slipping in beside you and immediately wrapping her arms around your waist. her hand slipped underneath your shirt, drawing lazy circles on your back.

“you could… keep doing that.” you said, another smile forming on your lips.

“oh really?” she chuckled. “does someone need some extra affection after today?”

“mmhm.” you nodded, placing your head on her chest but looking up at her. you gave her your famous puppy dog eyes. “i’ll take anything you give me.”

the woman rolled her eyes at you, “okay, now you’re just pushing it.”

“maybe i wanna push it.”

“hmm… you’re testing me now.” she turned to look down at you.

you stared at her for a second. you had a mischievous grin on your face and connected your lips for a kiss. you lifted yourself up a bit and moved so that your body rested on top of hers. you had your hands on her cheeks while hers were on the back of your thighs.

you sat up, your legs at her sides. you started unbuttoning your shirt, pushing it off your shoulders. emily sat up to unclasp your bra, kissing your chest. you ran your hand through her gray hair, you loved the color.

you let out a few fluttering sighs while she left open-mouthed kisses on you, she was definitely going to leave a few marks.

“em…” you shifted a bit, starting to feel yourself drench the fabric of your panties.

“mmhm?” she asked, muffled.

“i need you.” you sighed out.

she flipped you both over, causing you to yelp softly as your back hit the bed. in one swift motion, she was on top of you.

you placed your hands on her shoulders, wriggling under her and pulling her in for another kiss.

she pushed her own blazer off. you loved how she looked in her business attire. you could dress as casually as you wanted— with exceptions of formal meetings, but with emily being the unit chief, she was always in something that screamed authority. you found it incredibly attractive.

her hand slipped under the waistband of your pants. she found your wet core and smiled at you, you knew she was about to make fun of you.

“i haven’t even done anything.” she mocked you, grinning.

“shut it, will you?”

“you talk to your chief like that?”

“no, i talk to emily like that.” you huffed, rolling your eyes at her.

“well— i’m not so sure emily likes that either.” she made a tsking noise with her tongue clicking. she applied some pressure against your cunt with her fingers. you hissed at the sudden contact. you started throbbing against her, and she felt it.

“well maybe if emily fucked me, she wouldn’t have to deal with the back talk.” you said, pulling away and crossing your arms.

“as you wish then.” she said, pushing your panties aside and slipping a finger into you. you gasped, your hands going straight to the back of her neck.

you let out soft moans as her finger moved in and out of you. none of your clothes were even off but you just needed her too much. her hand moved against the fabric of your pants, being pushed back into you by the resistance. you started to build up a sweat as you both were still clothed and under the blanket.

“keep going, em.” you whimpered out, your bottom lip between your teeth.

“oh fuck, yeah… yeah, keep going!” you cried out.

click.

“hey guys, i have the key to your room—“ spencer said, walking into your room without warning.

“oh fuck!” you said softly, pushing emily off you and trying to pull the blanket over your bottom half. you grabbed your phone and tried to play it off like you were showing emily a video on your phone.

she fell into position, looking over at spencer with a glare.

“you could have knocked?!” emily said, a mild rage in her voice.

“well i didn’t have anything to worry about. it’s not like you two are hooking up.” oblivious boy.

“we could be!” you protested, teasing emily at that point.

“you? and emily? sure…” he said, rolling his eyes and tossing the key card on the table.

“which one didn’t you guys use?” he asked, pointing between the two others.

“the one on the left.” you said. he picked it up and made his way out.

you both let out a breath that you didn’t realise you were holding.

“christ…” you mumbled, pushing the blanket off and forcing your pants off.

“now where were we?”

•*¨*•.¸¸♪

a/n: part of me lowkey wants to make a part two where they get discovered or sumnnnn

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x female reader #emily prentiss x f!reader #emily prentiss smut #paget brewster #criminal minds fic #criminal minds

223 notes · View notes

harlesluvsyou · 3 months

Text

🃏─────BUNNY

in which, joker burns

with jealously, and reminds you

that you’re his ❞

ledger!joker x f!reader, NSFW (18+), jealousy, hate/make-up sex(if you squint), hair pulling, smut, gun play, knife play, blood play, breath play/choking, slapping, joker is joker, threats, VERY toxic situation ship! tho i write this, its never to glorify any of the especially cruel actions. keep this in mind and read at your own caution and leisure.

Your date with Danny- Dave? You weren’t sure- had gone just like the other four had, boring and leaving your heart aching for your clown prince of crime. You two, Joker and you, had gotten close after he stayed at your apartment for a month after robbing a nearby bank. He had threatened to kill you if you didn’t let him stay- it ended up though the only killing he was doing was between your legs. You both grew very fond of one another- and then one day, you woke up and he was gone- in his stead, a note telling you he’d be back soon. You had waited for what felt like forever, weeks and weeks passing you by with no sign of him. So, you did what any normal girl would do and moved on.

You walk through your apartment door, grumbling to yourself about how bad the food was at the restaurant you had been at not too long ago. You hear the sound of your TV, perhaps you had forgotten to turn it off? It’s when you hear a low hum that you snap your head towards the sound. You could recognize that voice from anywhere.

You stiffen when you see him there, sitting on your couch with his legs propped up on your coffee table. The TV on and illuminating your living room. His dark eyes flicker to your form, and in your daze you forget that you’re holding a bouquet of roses- and they most certainly aren’t from the man in front of you. “Uh, hi?” He drawls, looking as if he was expecting a much warmer welcome.

He looks like a dream, his head lulled to the side as he tongues the side of his mouth- his tongue flickering over his red colored lips. His hair combed back and his greasepaint just as messy as you remembered. His eyes are a dark ebony, trailing up and down your form and stopping momentarily at the flowers you have squeezed in your grip.

His purple coat and his green vest are draped across the back of your couch and are long forgotten by the time your eyes run over his body again. All he wears is his button up, the fabric tight around his shoulders and his biceps- his tie is loose, hanging limply around his neck. You watch as the muscles in his thigh flex underneath his pinstripe purple pants. His hands are still covered by his leather gloves and God, do you wish they were around your neck.

He looks so beautiful it makes your breath hitch in your throat.

You shudder as he sits up, his argyle patterned sock clad feet hitting your rug as he cracks his neck. He leans forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he man spreads. You swallow thickly, watching as he fidgets with his hands and you have to work hard to pull your eyes away from the way his pants become tight around his groin.

You take a step back the second he shoots up from the couch, your shoulders pulled up to your ears as your whole body tenses. You try your best to discretely kick off your heels, inching towards the door as he begins his slow walk towards you. He’s fucking tall, taller than you remember as he approaches you like a hunter approaches their prey. Your muscles lock up, your mind telling you to run as his broad shoulders poke into your personal space. He’s too quiet, his lips twitching and his body a scary mixture of fluid and rigid.

You’re scared he will hurt you before you get the chance to explain yourself.

For a moment, you mistake the furrow in his brow and the look in his eyes as kindness- you don’t know how you make this mistake- maybe because you thought you knew him better than you do and because the light catches his eyes just right. Making them twinkle with a golden and pretty brown that’s so familiar and beautiful it swallows you whole. Your shoulders fall and you relax. You think for a moment he’s calmed down and you’re immediately given whiplash when he snatches you up by your hair. You gasp, your back colliding harshly with your apartment door. Pain explodes across your body, your lips pulling into a sneer as your eyes squeeze together. Your scalp burns, your hands dropping the bouquet and flying up to hold onto his forearm as he looks down at you.

“I, uh, leave you alone for not even,” he smacks his lips, “a month!” You don’t argue, though it’s been a bit over a month since you last saw him. “And now loo-k at you, doll…” A sidelong glance with some consideration and you realize he’s picking his words carefully. He wants to make sure his words split you in two, breaking your heart and really hitting you where it hurts. “Being a pretty little slutttttt for someone else, hm? If flowers was, hah, all it took to get you to spread your legs…I would’ve gotten you flowers ages ago, baby doll.”

His grip on your hair tightens and despite the even and amused tone of his voice you know him at least well enough to know to be afraid. He smells like cedar and gasoline and you cry out as he slams your head against the door again. You open your eyes, tears filling them as fear grips at your heart tightly. You’re barely on your tippy toes, your feet flexing as they ache for proper ground.

“N-No! It’s not like that, J! P-Please, please believe me.” You choke out as your chest heaves, terrified by the way rage swims and sparks in his irises. You’re horrified when you realize you’re actually enjoying this, excitement coiling in your gut, tangling around your terror until you can’t tell them apart. You hope he doesn’t realize, but you know he does when he quirks an eyebrow- his lips turning from a frown into a knowing smile. Your words don’t seem to soothe the flame ablaze in his eyes, it only seems to heighten it as he drops you to the floor.

You stay there like that, cradling your head as he steps over you. All of your muscles seize up as the door behind you locks with a click. A second one doesn’t sound, meaning he left the top lock undone. You raise a shaking head, your eyes wide and doe-like. He laughs, and you’re sure that that’s what the devil sounds like.

Why does it sound so compelling? So magnetizing?

His lipstick is slightly smudged, the red making his scars look angry and the little lightning in your entryway highlighting every crack and crease in his greasepaint. “You, uh, scared, babydoll?” He drawls, cocking his head mockingly. One of his hands runs through his hair as he looks down at you. He’s faster than you remember, and you’re dragged up to your feet before you can even utter a word.

The grip on your wrist is punishing and you cry out in pain as he squeezes you tighter. “You sho-uld be.” He clicks his tongue, your legs shaking and your knees threatening to give out underneath his heated glare. He pulls you into him, breathing in your scent and placing his hands on your hips. They feel like fire against your clothed skin.

You squirm and cry out when his fingers tighten- the pressure becomes so harsh that you think for a moment your bones will snap. You’re certain you will at least be bruised and in agony by tomorrow morning. “Tell me, because I am, oh. So. Curious..” He hisses, and you try to pull away from him again when he begins to back you into your apartment. Your hips flush and his body too close to you. “Did you think..that I, uh, wouldn’t come to visit my favorite little bun-ny? That, I, me, me, me, me! Your sweet beau- your villainous lover, wouldn’t see all the pretty gifts in your room and wait for you to come home so that I could, uh, discuss the fact you’ve been a little unfaithful whore?”

You say nothing, swallowing your words and biting back the fact he’s much less than a lover if he only returns to you and comes around when it benefits him. You know better than to speak out of line when he’s like this- valuing your life and all your teeth. If you talk back, you might end up with a broken bone or two.

His eyes are like black mercury, evil and unnatural- something dangerous navigating the depths as he takes a deep breath and sighs. Eventually, your knees hit the back of the couch and you fall into it- the plushness of the fabric feeling like heaven against your flushed skin. The moment of peace doesn’t last long as he grabs you by your hair, you kick and scream as he drags you up the couch. When he releases you, you’re on your back- your tear filled eyes blinking up at him owlishly as he stares down at you.

You do your best to ignore the way heat seems to trickle down into your panties from your lower abdomen.

His hands grab ahold of your bare thighs as he sits at your feet, tugging you down and pulling your thighs over his own. Your dress has ridden up all the way, exposing your lace purple underwear- the way he growls shows his approval and appreciation. He did always love when you wore his colors.

After what feels like a forever— in reality, it could’ve been a minute or two or ten, it would’ve made no difference to you—his lips attack yours. You kiss back instantaneously, and you blame it on muscle memory when your hands bury themselves into his hair- the locks soft against your fingertips. Kissing him is like second nature, it comes as easily to you as breathing and you shudder when he grinds himself against you.

You breathe in his scent, relishing in his touch and the way his gloved hands pull up your dress even further. He kneads your exposed flesh gently, and you remember why you had missed him so much. You gasp, throwing your head back and breaking the kiss when his hand suddenly strikes you. Stinging pain blossoms across your skin, and you watch with low eyes as he sticks one of his hands at a time in his mouth. He catches his gloves between sharp teeth, dragging them off of his hands and throwing them to the side.

“I-I fucking hate you.” You sneer, trying more so to convince yourself than him. He raises an eyebrow and cocks his head to the side as he huffs a laugh through his nose. He knows you better than anyone, knows that you need him more than the air you breathe or the food you eat. He knows that you’re shaking underneath him not just because of fear.

He nods. “Uh huh. Care to, uh, put your money where your mouth is, sweetness?” You don’t get the chance to reply as you have to bite back a moan when his hands touch you again, his warmth so familiar and so sweet that it leaves you needy and wordless- all your sass disappearing. His hands carelessly pull down the top of your dress, your breasts bouncing out as he growls and leans down. He rolls one of your nipples harshly between his thumb and forefinger, his lips and teeth working on the other until your back is arching and your skin is being painted with red, white and black.

He pulls back and gives you a toothy grin as he yanks your sensitive bud hard. His hands trail down your stomach until he reaches the waistband of your underwear. He snaps it against your skin. “It’s a real shame, I really like this color on you.” His tongue flicks out to lick the corner of his mouth as he suddenly wraps all of his fingers around the side of your panties.

You try to tell him to wait, but by the time you even choke the word out- your lace underwear is in his hand, leaving red marks on your skin where the fabric rubbed against your tender flesh while he ripped it off of you. You don’t stay mad about it for long when he begins to unbutton his shirt slowly, watching with barely concealed amusement when your eyes stay trained on each section of tattooed and scarred skin that comes into view.

He throws his shirt to the side before taking off his tie and draping it over your own neck. The gentle fabric feels like a noose even if it’s loose for now. It kisses your collarbones and lays flat between your falling and rising chest. You ogle him, his abs poking out beneath marred skin as he chuckles at your obvious attraction.

“What? You, uh, like what you see, hm, bunny?” He coos, and in your humiliation you don’t even realize what you’re doing until the back of your hand strikes his face. Your wrist is in his grip immediately, his eyes darkening as his own hand cracks against your cheek.

Your head snaps to the side, your head swimming for a moment as the stinging tingles and moves across the surface of your skin. “Tha-t wasn’t very nice, I’ve been, uh, very patient with you. Don’t mistake it for….kindness, doll.” He laughs before groaning at the dazed look in your eyes.

Fuck, he hit you hard.

“If I let you go, will you, uh, be-have?” He utters quietly, and he smiles as you nod rapidly. He drops your hands before diving back down to kiss you. His bare chest brushes against yours as his lips devour you, teeth nibbling and drawing blood from your delicate mouth as he works his hands through your hair. He pulls harshly, snapping your head back as his greasepaint begins to rub off on your neck. He kisses your throat sloppily, taking extra care at your artery. He nibbles the skin, shuddering as he feels your pulse accelerate.

Jesus, you feel like you’re going to pass out.

Your legs spread when he reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a knife that has his initial carved into the handle. He flicks it open and brings it to the curve of your tits, you curse when it brushes you. It barely touches your flesh- but it splits anyways. Immediately, your skin begins to weep red- how sharp is that knife?

“What happened to all that, uh, moxie?”

His tongue laps up your blood, making the small incision in your skin sting even more. The pain and pleasure of everything mix together, your head swims as he finally- finally, unzips his pants. The sound rings in your head as he pushes your head down by your hair so you can watch the show.

He makes you stare as he pulls himself out of his boxers- surprisingly perfectly shaved— and lines up with your entrance. You shudder, and you glance up through your lashes. You beg him with your eyes, your whole body alight with nervousness and fear as you shake. You want to plead with him, ask him to be gentle- but you know it would all be for not. He laughs at your pathetic display, smirking down at you.

He pushes in slowly, and you grit your teeth as he fills you- every inch and vein and perfect curve of his cock brushing against your walls. The stretch is agonizing, forcing your delicate skin to accommodate his girth. He’s big and it hurts- your wetness doing nothing to ease the discomfort as he groans. You clamp around him like a vice. “You missed me, didn’t you, doll?” He chuckles out, sweat glistening on his forehead as his eyebrows furrow.

He leans over you, resting on his forearms and entangling one of his hands in your hair as his back curves. He pulls out slowly before pushing back in, and you gasp as the fire within him begins to root itself inside of you. The desire you feel runs rampant, consuming your every thought as his hips rock into you. Your couch squeaks uselessly as he pistions his hips so hard that you know you’ll be bruised. He sets an even tempo, fast and hard and ruining as he takes your heated skin between teeth.

“Oh- fuck- God!~” You cry, your muscle tightening as your pleasure spikes. Your jaw drops, your eyes screwing shut as oxygen you desperately needed left you in a wanton gasp at a particularly harsh thrust.

When you open your eyes he’s frowning down at you, his eyes dark and his eyebrows furrowed. “I have no clue what you’re, uh, calling to God for.” He chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “He can’t hear you when you’re being corrupted by dirty criminal filth like me.” He growls, nibbling on your tender skin and laughing at you when you whine louder than before. “Oh, ho, ho! Little miss innocent isn’t so innocent after all, hm? Does that make you ho-t and botherrrred? Knowing that you’re letting a mass murderer use your pretty little cunt to get off?” He chuckles out, not even half as breathless as you as he forms his sentences easily.

He leans back, pulling your calves over his shoulders as he fucks into you. Your head is thrown back, your hands buried into the fabric of your couch as one of his hands run down your stomach. You groan when his hands brush against your breasts- and then hiss when he purposefully pushes into the cut he had made earlier. You go to cuss at him but find your voice lost and your heart immediately forgiving him as his thumb brushes against your clit. Need sparks in your chest, heat flooding between your legs as you shake helplessly. Your pleasure is all you can focus on, your body writhing beneath him. He works your body perfectly, moving his thumb expertly against your heat and making you dizzy with pleasure.

You squirm, every single one of your nerves screaming as he pulls out. He tucks his knife between his teeth and roughly rolls you onto your stomach. One of his hands press your head into a pillow, your arms wrapping around the plush fabric to ground yourself as he enters you again with one smooth motion. He takes his knife out from his mouth and tucks it back into his pants as he fucks you. You can feel the electricity underneath your skin crackle when his hands come into contact with your skin. He kneads your flesh gently, and the sound of slapping skin and breathless moans fill the air.

He rolls his hips, his tip kissing your cervix and leaving you screaming into the pillow. “Shut up.” He growls suddenly, all form of patience leaving his body as he finds the tie around your neck. “You’re, hah, enjoying this a bi-t too much. Look at the timeee!” He drawls, tsking and shaking his head from behind you. “So late and you’re so louuuud..wouldn’t want to wa-ke, uh, your neighbors, would we?” He yanks it back, tightening the tie around your throat and cutting off your air supply. He laughs loudly as you gag and choke at the sudden loss of oxygen, your neck snapping back as he forces your back to arch into the couch.

You feel delirious, pleasure crashing over you in waves as your core pulls taut. You choke out a whimper, your orgasm quickly approaching when he shifts his hips and buries himself into you at an angle. Pleasure makes your brain go blank- and he must realize it when he laughs. “Oh? Found your swe-et spot, did we?”

He drives into you over and over again, fucking that spot raw until you think you’ll burst if you don’t cum. Your thighs shake, your muscles spasming as you choke out cries and pleads. Your walls flutter around him, the lack of air rendering you so dizzy that black spots pop up in your vision. The pleasure overwhelming as your head clears for a moment, and then is dragged under the depths once again.

You drown in your desire as his hand cracks against your ass. The pain dances with your euphoria so beautifully that it all feels the same to you. “That little boy toy of yours can’t fuck you like I do, hm? Can’t make you, uh, beg for more or for pain? Can’t fuck you senseless- can’t make you a shaking, crying, fucked out mess beneath him?” He asks, and is delighted when you shake your head- murmuring in agreement as you shudder. Suddenly he slows down, his eyes rolling over to the boy who stands wide eyed in your entryway. “Hear that, loverboy?”

In your pleasure, you hadn’t heard the creak of the door or the voice calling for you- telling you that you had forgotten your phone. You hadn’t heard when Daniel- Derrick…maybe, said the door was locked and he had let himself in using the key under the mat because he heard you scream and was oh so very worried- especially when he saw the roses on the floor. You hadn’t heard any of that or the slap as a box of chocolates fell from his hands in his shock. “C’mon baby. Show the eager crowd what you’ve, ah, got! You are tonight’s en-ter-tainment after all..”

You look to the brunette man, your whole body shivering and your face ruined by mascara running down your cheeks. Your eyes go wide in terror, and you want to shot yourself when you realize you don’t feel any guilt or shame. You mean, it was only the fifth date? He didn’t even know your middle name to be fair- and for the life of you, you couldnt even remember his.

You cry, your eyebrows furrowing as Joker reaches underneath you and between your legs. His eyes don’t leave the heartbroken boy at all as he begins to fuck you as harshly as he had been before. Your body arches into him, you lean deliberately into his touch- craving what only he can give. “What? Something’s eatin ya? You, uh, wishin’ you could be me- fucking dollface here? Or are you wishin’ you could be her? I’d get it, I’m, hah, a very good fuck after all.” He huffs, laughing and twisting your clit between his hands and forcing you towards an orgasm that will crush you. “Can you, uh, tell by the look on her face? Isn’t she so pretty when she’s fucked stupid?” He yanks the tie back, revealing your, as he called it, “fucked-stupid” face. Your mouth goes between hanging open and your teeth clamping together tightly as you fight for air. Your eyebrows drawn together and your eyes alternating between being squeezed shut and half lidded as he pounds into your dripping cunt.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity he rolls his hips forward and presses on your clit. He’s all around you, his scent and his voice and his touch. The humiliation, the desire, the hatred and love. It eats up all rationality and shame you have and your whole body locks up- the coil in your stomach snapping and going haywire- brushing against every vein and nerve ending and setting you on fire. Your eyes roll back, your mouth falling open in a breathless gasp as he finally lets go of the tie and allows you to breathe. Shivers rack your whole body, and you’re certain if it weren’t for his hand on your back- pressing you down- you would’ve jumped off the couch like a woman possessed.

Your orgasm rips through your body, ripples of vicious animalistic desire filling your chest and making you whine. He never stops thrusting, never stops laughing and mocking you and the man who had walked in on your little “play date,” as he would call it. He groans when you call his name, sweat coating his body as his muscles flex from the effort it takes to not seriously hurt you. He really, reaaaaally fucking wants to. Joker knows he could kill you right now, you’re so vulnerable and it would be so easy to snap your little neck. You’d die while having one of the most earth shattering orgasms you’d ever have.

But the second of satisfaction he would gain from feeling your bones give way to him? Well, it would never compare to how tight your pussy clamps onto him. How pretty you sound when you beg and whimper and cry. How delicious it is when your tongue caresses his name as if it’s the only thing besides his dick you’ll ever want in your perfect mouth. God, he thinks, you’re such a good lay.

He fucks you through it, and you ride wave after wave of pleasure until you can’t figure out if it’ll ever end. It all comes together perfectly, your bliss following one long nerve throughout your whole body. You cry out, shockwaves of need flooding you and making you forget when your orgasm even began. It felt like it had been going on forever, the friction between your legs never ending as somewhere underneath all of your dopamine and oxytocin, his voice reaches you. His pelvis slams into your ass, his hand tangling in your hair and yanking it so hard you think it’ll come out of the root as he coos. “Good girl,” he drawls, “that’s it, keep it coming.” He laughs, watching as your back arches to a degree that looks painful.

Shuffling sounds and his voice drops as he speaks to Dillion…you think, who is now trying to leave. “You stay,” he pants, “right fucking there. Watch as I fuck what you thought was yours- but act-ually is and will always be mine. Isn’t that right, baby?” He coos, laughing when you confirm with a breathless and whiny yes, sir.

The boy’s—his name you finally recall as David— eyebrows furrow. “Fuck you!” He yells, his fists bunched at his sides as he spits the word as if it’ll shoot Joker down from his place on top of you. As if it’ll slow his thrusts and make your eyes roll back into place.

Joker snorts, his hands moving to massage your ass as he leans back and fucks into you slower than before. “Thanks for the offer, toots. Butttttt,” he glances at the a qqq man, his eyes running up and down his body, “you’re not my type.”

You whimper and whine and with every slow thrust he breathes life back into you, winding you up like a toy and pushing you once again towards another orgasm. David turns to leave again, and this time Joker reaches behind him and grabs his gun- you hadn’t even known he had it on him. “Ah, ta, ta. I thought I told you to stay put. Either you listen or,” he points the gun at your head and you freeze up, horrified by the way your excitement doubles inside of you. A click sounds, the safety off and your pussy sopping wet at the risk of it all.

You would really need to look into therapy after this.

“Actually? You. Know. What!” He smacks his lips, laughing as he presses the gun harder against your skull. “Leave and I’ll just, uh, find you. Get my goons to kidnap you and then we can have our own little play date. Would you like that, David?“ He utters his name like he’s known it his whole life, his eyes darkening as you squeeze around him. “Would you like to have some, uh, real fun? I do have to say though, I highly dou-bt that I, uh, will be as sweet as I am with my little bunny here..I have a soft spot for her and this pretty pink pussy of hers. I might end up tossing you around a bit.” His eyes fall back onto you as your pussy spasms around him at his threatening words, wishing for a moment he was saying them to you and not him. He taps the barrel of the pistol against your head, and you whimper aloud. “She seems to like that idea too. Yeah, baby? Want me to, uh, fuck him u-p for wanting to get into your pretty purple panties?”

You don’t mean to moan as loudly as you do, and you groan as he pulls you by your hair- bringing your back flush against his chest. “Say cheese.” He laughs, forcing you to look into the hazel eyes of your past date. At this new angle, somehow he’s fucking even deeper into you. You squirm and cry as he breaks down your resolve with every single thrust of his hips. Your boobs bounce along with every snap of his pelvis, and he grabs your arms and twists them painfully back and behind you. He yanks you to meet every piston of his hips, his shoulders rolling back as he grits his teeth- his tongue flickering across his lips as he furrows his brows.

Your bodies slant together perfectly, two puzzle pieces snapping together as your body presses deliciously into his. He nibbles on your neck, letting go of your arms to fondle your breasts with calloused hands. He keeps his eyes on David, smiling against your heated skin as the sound of your pleasure fills the space. Your nails find purchase in the fabric of his pants, your ears ringing with the sound of your own slick and skin slapping against skin.

Your pleasure builds, slowly but surely you’re toeing the edge of a cliff- ready to be thrown off. It’s only when his teeth bite deep into your shoulder that your eyes roll back. Finally, you come undone once again. It’s unexpected this time and hits you like a truck. You scream out his name, your pussy quivering as you shudder. Your pleasure burns red hot, making your stomach tighten to a degree that is damn near painful. He slips a hand up your chest, squeezing your neck as he murmurs praise in your ear. He tells you that you’re taking it so well, that you feel so good around him and his words? They go right between your legs, adding fuel to your never ending fire of want for him. You twitch against him, your hair sticking against your sweaty forehead as you shudder. The wet sound of your cunt is filthy, his cock buried so deep inside of you that you can’t think straight.

He whispers in your ear, your body reacting to every little word that slips into your head as he paints your body red with his lips. He leans back, pulling you with him until he’s on his back and you’re riding him reverse cowgirl. Your thighs shudder- barely able to move as exhaustion begins to hit you- but you pull yourself up anyways until just his thick tip is inside, he clicks his tongue and grabs your hips- he pulls you down harshly and forces a loud cry from your throat. “Sorry, toots. I’m not, uh, feeling very pat-ient today.”

You ride him like a dog in heat, chasing a third orgasm to hear that lovely praise fall from his lips. From the TV, a loud scream sounds and you jump for a moment before continuing the bouncing of your hips. Your nails dig into his thighs for leverage as you drag yourself up and drive your hips down the thickness of his cock- rendering yourself thoughtless as you babble out nonsense he can barely make out. He laughs at you, rubbing circles into your waist with calloused finger tips.

Still, David stands there. Rage and fear filling him as he watches your hips roll around the clown’s dick. When he finally can’t take it anymore and runs out, not believing in- or perhaps not caring about the Joker’s threat- the man underneath you laughs.

You try not to think about what will happen to David.

Another scream, louder than before, breaks your focus and you feel his muscles tighten underneath you. J laughs, shuffling a bit to get comfortable. “I bet that, I, ah, could make you scream louder than that. Shall we find out?”

You don’t get to respond, his hips pounding up into you to meet every sloppy motion of your fatigued body. “Mm, that’s it, baby doll. Roll those pretty hips for me. Lemme’ see just how much you missed me.” And you do, you roll your hips and let him fuck up into you so harshly you see stars. You scream as he fucks the sense right out of you. You’re certain you’ll be able to count and name every planet in the solar system by the time he’s done twisting the wires in your brain over each other. “Keep going, sweetheart. Make yourself cum all over my cock again. Do it, for me.”

Pleasure lights the furnace inside of you again, and you shake your head. Earlier, the pleasure hadn’t gotten to a point of it being overstimulating and painful- now? It had. You plead and beg, your words leaving you so fast they hardly make any sense. “No, no, no, no. J, mmm, no! I can’t- fuck, not again.” His hands reach up, grasping your hair and pulling you backwards until you fall flat against him- somehow, he stays tucked inside you the whole time.

He huffs, rolling his eyes. “Uh, yeah? You can and you will because I told you to.” He growls, fucking into you like it’s the only thing he can bring himself to care about. You cry out, whimpering as he slides into you perfectly- the fabric of his pants soft against your heated skin.

“Please, J! Please..”

He tsks, wrapping a hand around your neck and growling down at where you lay on his chest. “You want a change of pace that bad, hm? Fine then. I’ll give it to you sweet cheeks.” You whimper in confused relief- not quite understanding his words as he picks up the pace.

As your pleasure burns hot once more, your body stiffens with pleasure turned pain while your toes curl. It’s then he stops suddenly. All of your euphoria slipping through your fingers like sand. His muscles twitch with effort as he exercises the most self control he’s had to use in years.

That’s how you end up being edged for at least an hour, by the time he’s finally breathless and shuddering- trying as hard as possible not to cum just yet, you’re crying even harder than you were before. You’ve been babbling nonsense, your brain melting out of your ears as he presses into you. He peppers kisses against your neck, panting and groaning as he fucks you- the hand around your throat tightening with every sloppy thrust.

“Alright, dollface.” He pants, his head getting thrown back when your overworked pussy- throbbing around him- tightens at the sound of his voice alone. “Okay, pretty girl.” He rolls his eyes, finding it amusing how needy you are. Greed fills your chest, you need more. “It’s, uh, my turn to put on a show.”

He pushes you off of him, forcing you onto your hands and knees. There’s no resistance when he lines up and slides back into you with a wet squelching sound that makes your head spin in dirty desire. “It’s our,” he smacks his lips, laughing, “last performance of the eve-ning. Let’s go out with a bang.”

He grabs your hips in a vice, gritting his teeth and groaning as you whimper and whine with even the slightest tilt of his waist. He leans over you, whispering in your ear as your ass slaps against his pelvis. Every time he pulls out, your spongy walls suck him back in- needing it- needing him so fucking bad.

You whimper something, and he manages to make out the syllables that make up his name. Your used hole shudders, quivering while you squeeze your eyes shut as your screams reach new heights. He doesn’t care enough to tell you to be quieter. He wants everyone to hear you, hear the way you become a mindless slut just for him.

Finally, he builds you up again. Every swift movement adding one more stick to the fire- one more brick in the house of pleasure that was destined to fall and crush you underneath its ruins. Joker groans, his balls tightening as his thrusts lose all tempo and rhythm. He chases his high, one of his hands slipping between your lips and he starts to fuck your mouth with his fingers.

You hollow out your cheeks, whimpering and gagging as he makes you choke on his digits. “Bite me.” He hisses, and you freeze up at his request, thinking he maybe didn’t mean literally. When the feeling of cold steel meets your neck, fear washes over you. “Bite me, you fucking bitch.” He growls, and your teeth close harshly around his fingers.

His eyes roll back, his mouth falling open in a breathless wheeze as his strokes only seem to speed up. The knife nicks you, blood trickling down your neck and painting your body with red. “Harder, doll. Keep it up and you’ll be earning the next orgasm I fuck outta you.”

You do as he says, and the taste of iron fills your mouth as you break through his skin. The taste is addicting, and you feel like a pittbull that has had its first taste of blood. Once you have it, nothing will ever be enough until you have it again. Maybe it’s the endorphins flooding your system, or maybe you’re more like him than you thought- but you moan at the taste of his life draining from his hand. His blood dancing across your tongue.

You sink your teeth in deeper and his hips stutter, his shoulders rolling back as his mind goes blank. “Ohh fu-ck, baby.” He grits out, his jaw and neck flexing as he goes rigid. “Yeah- I’ve decided…‘m jus’ gonna keep ya. Gonna wrap you up in a bow and, uh, fuuuck- gonna keep you. You’re too good to let go. Gonna stick you in a room and throw away the key so, ah, nobody else can have this pussy. Yeah? You like that idea, sweetness? You like it? You like me?” He growls, and you hum in agreement around his fingers- drool dribbling down your chin as he shivers and fucks you so hard you hear the low scratching of the couch moving with each snap of his hips against you.

His words are filthy and you feel your whole body shaking as he rolls his hips, you’re so close you can hardly make a sentence without moaning and whining like some horny slut. “Oh baby doll…” He snarls, teeth bared as he shakes. “I’m gonna cum, sweetheart. Gonna cum deep inside of this pussy of yours. I’m gonna knock you up good- make you stuck with me.”

And you snap at his words, your body alight with motion as you tremor violently. Your walls clench around his length and he too comes undone. He pulls you closer, emptying inside of you and shaking as his muscles constrict. He pants behind you, chest heaving as his pleasure ripples through his body. He lets out a shuddering breath, waiting to come down from his high.

A knock sounds at the door. “Hello, this is the GCPD, your neighbors heard some screaming and were concerned for your safety. Is everything alright?”

Joker groans, and you sigh in defeat- exhausted and absolutely tuckered out. Now, you have to deal not only with your psycho clown- but with a bunch of cops. This was going to go every way but swimmingly.

hiii! please excuse any misspellings i looked this over like 100 times lol!!! i really hope you enjoyed :3

#ledger joker smut #heath ledger joker #dc joker #joker x reader #joker smut #dc comics #heath ledger #joker x y/n #joker x you #smut #dc smut #lemon #ledger joker x reader #ledger!joker #fanfic #batman #writing

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astermath · 1 year

Text

“So? Whatever.”

pairing: dave lizewski x popular!fem!reader

summary: The preppy girl that just about everyone admires has more in common with Dave than he expects. He doesn’t quite know how to handle this information, but it excites him nonetheless.

word count: 2K

♡ LANDING PAGE♡

notes: I haven’t written something like this in a good while, so please bear with me if I’m rusty or there are some mistakes here and there. Reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, I tried to be as non descriptive as possible about her appearance. I do love writing a bit of a mean reader like this, but don’t worry, she’ll warm up to him. This fic takes place in senior year for age purposes, I’m pretty much fully ignoring the timeline of the film. Comments and/or requests are super welcome btw!! Hope you enjoy!! <3

(ps this will get a part two don’t worry xx)

To Dave, girls like you were unreachable. You could hear about them, you could listen to them talk in the hallways, sneak a glance their way… But talk to them? Any single one of their group would consider that social suicide. The only reason any of them even looked in his direction was to ask him to do their homework. So why in god’s name were you at his locker? Why were you acknowledging his existence at all?

“What’s that?” You leaned against the locker next to his, pointing at the piece of a comic book panel he’d taped to the door. It pictured Spider-man putting on his mask for the first time, something Dave looked to when he needed some motivation for the day.

He struggled to get basically any words out, still not fully registering that you’re within such close range. He could smell you… God that was really weird to think about, he felt like a creep already, but you just… Smelled really nice. Like vanilla, mixed with something sweet. He realized he hadn’t answered your question yet and was just staring in front of him like a weirdo. “O-Oh, yeah, that’s uh… That’s Spider-man. It’s this… This superhero I like.” He adjusted the strap of his backpack to keep his hands busy.

You smiled and rolled your eyes. “Duh, I know who Spider-man is, please.” You couldn’t help but think he was doing anything to avoid looking into your eyes, as if you’d turn him to stone if he dared to do so. Which, yes, was exactly how he felt.

“I wanted to know which comic that was from. The art style looks a lot different than the ones I’ve seen.” Now this part was pretty much making his teenage brain short circuit. He probably didn’t hear that right, there’s no way a popular girl like you read comics, right? This had to be some kind of elaborate joke, like you were trying to pull a prank on him by making him ramble about his favorite superheroes. However, he wasn’t close minded. Even if this was a prank, at least you were talking to him, right?

“Yeah, sorry, I uh… Forget he’s a pretty popular character sometimes. This one’s from a collector’s edition. One of the pages was kinda falling apart so I just… Taped my favorite panel to my locker.” Again, he tried to look anywhere else, but it felt rude not to be making eye contact with the person who’s trying to give you a chance at a conversation. His eyes met yours and he realised he hadn’t ever actually seen you up close like this. You were really pretty, he knew that, but he never noticed these particular things about you before. The way your hair framed your features so nicely, the little beauty mark that seemed to be somehow perfectly placed, or the way a dimple appeared on your right cheek when you smiled.

“Hopefully you didn’t pay too much for it, those things cost like, a fortune.” You followed, snapping him out of his haze as you twirled a piece of hair between your index and middle finger. Dave was much taller than you, so you had to look up to match his gaze, which was already hard since he kept avoiding your eyes. You never realized how much he’d matured since freshman year. He looked pretty cute… Really cute, actually.

“S-So, uhm, I really don‘t wanna be rude, but…” He closed his locker before looking at you with a rather awkward expression. “Why are you here? Why are you… talking to me?” Honestly, not an unjustified question. Dave was often the subject of bullying, and the popular girls clique made no exception to that rule. He doesn’t remember you specifically doing anything, although... He has a vague memory of you being in the car with those jocks when they threw spoiled milk at him.

“What? A girl can’t talk to her fellow classmate? This is a free country, you know.” You pretended to be a little hurt by his assumption that you were probably just here to make fun of him. In all honesty he was still a little dumbfounded by this whole ordeal, and the fact that half the people that passed you were giving you two weird looks really wasn’t helping. “You know I sit behind you in English, right?” He responds by nodding. He is painfully aware of this fact, as your friends had expressed their empathy for you when your seat was assigned behind him, though you honestly didn’t mind. And also the fact that he got a fair share of gossip from you and your best friend always whispering to each other. “Well,” you flipped a bit of hair over your shoulder. “I saw you had a copy of Birth of Venom in your backpack, and I... Wanted to ask if I could borrow it...” You looked to the side, muttering the last part. As much as you tried not to care what people thought, you did have a bit of a reputation that you were stuck to. Liking comics wasn’t for you, you were a cheerleader, you went to parties, you liked shopping. Okay, you secretly liked comics.

Dave looked at you with a puzzled expression. “I-I’m sorry, can you repeat tha--”

“Can I borrow your stupid comic or what?” You interrupted him, clearly looking a bit embarrassed.

“Oh!” His face was getting hot, this conversation was lasting way longer than he imagined it would. Usually he’d have his face shoved into his locker by now. “U-Uhm, sure! It’s a bit expensive, but... Well, just don’t damage it, please.” He took his backpack off his shoulder and was about to pull it out before you grabbed his arm.

“Not here you dumbass! Just, like... Ugh, meet me at my car after school’s over, you can hand it to me then.” You were acting like this was some kind of illegal drug deal, but this truly was something important to you. Your dad had already made it very clear that he didn’t want his little girl becoming some kind of tomboy and have her mind run rampant with superhero stories. Especially with this Kickass guy running around...

The bell rang and you silently thanked it for doing so. “Look, I gotta go. White Corvette, by the vending machines.” You walked past him, and a waft of that lovely vanilla scent hit his nose. He damn near melted into the floor when your arm brushed against his. “Later, Lizewksi.”

You leaned against the hood of your car, scrolling on your phone as you waited for the brunette to show up. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty that you were just meeting him in secret like this. It’s not like you were embarrassed to be seen with him, or that you didn’t like him, it’s just that liking comics and superheroes was just about the dorkiest thing anyone could be into. Especially with Kickass running around, and, well, kicking ass, people would probably be thinking you’d be into this whole vigilante business yourself. Sure, you thought it was cool that people were doing something about all the crime, but you’d rather die than mess up your hair beating some thug’s ass.

You noticed someone approaching and noticed that Dave wasn’t alone. With a bit of a disgusted expression, you gestured to his two sidekicks. “I don’t remember inviting the entire geek entourage to come see me. This isn’t some kinda meet and greet, you know.” Todd and Marty seemed, just like Dave before, a little shocked that you were talking to them.

“S-Sorry, they just uh...” Dave began.

“We didn’t believe him.” Todd followed.

“...believe what?” You questioned, crossing your arms.

“That a chick like you was into comics.” Marty said, before Todd smacked him on the back of the head. “Dude! Don’t say it like that!”

You got a bit flustered, and looked at Dave. “You told them!? What the fuck, Lizewski?”

“I-I’m sorry!” He held up his hands. “They were asking me what we were talking about, and... I panicked.” They were more so insinuating that he was flirting with her, and he didn’t want that rumor going around, in case your jock brother caught wind of that and beat his ass for flirting with his sister.

You sighed, looking down and pinching the bridge of your nose before waving your hand out in a dismissive manner. “It’s... whatever, just leave. Before I change my mind and throw a bitch fit.” His two friends gave him a suggestive look before heading out. “Those two better not snitch or I’ll cut off their shrimps.” He nodded, just a little intimidated by the threat.

He got out his backpack and handed you the comic. “I’m still surprised I uh... I never knew you were into this stuff.” His breath hitched in his throat when your finger brushed over his as you took it from him. You flipped through it, keeping your eyes on the pages.

“Yeah, well... There’s a lot you don’t know about me, as much as I’m sure you guys love to assume.” You realized you hadn’t even told him your name, so you looked up at him and held out your hand, introducing yourself. You know, out of courtesy.

“I-I know your name, but uhm... I’m Dave.” Your hand felt so soft, your beautifully manicured fingers being a real juxtaposition to his. His hand was much bigger and rougher than yours. You wondered why his hand was so calloused anyways... He didn’t look like he did many sports.

“Wait... Your name isn’t Lizewski?” You chuckled. “Christ, my bad... I always thought that was just your first name.” Your feeling of guilt for the boy before you flared up a bit again. He was being really nice to you, offering you something personal of his that he probably spent a pretty penny on. And you didn’t even know his actual name before. No wonder some people thought you were a bit of a bitch, you thought to yourself.

“Hey, uhm... I know you got a bunch of these, and my dad would kill me if he knew I was reading them. He hates vigilantes, and he thinks reading comics will get me into the whole thing. Stupid, I know, but... He takes it surprisingly seriously.” You put the comic away carefully. “So I have a proposition for you.”

His eyebrows rose a little. A proposition, alright. No big deal. Could be literally anything though.

“Come to my house this Saturday, bring a bunch of these, and I’ll tell my dad you’re coming to tutor me for physics or something.” You tilted your head a little, your locks falling gently over your shoulders. “I’ll pay you. Money’s not a problem. It’ll be like I’m renting them from you.”

He thought for a second, but in all honesty... How was this not a total win/win situation? He got to be in a pretty girl’s room, read comics with her, talk about them and make money. What kind of idiot would say no to that? “Yeah! Sounds good to me, uh... What do you want me to...” His words trailed off as you pulled out a pen and reached for his hand, writing a string of numbers on the back of it.

“I’ll text you the address, and which series I like. I’ll let you do the picking. Oh, and Dave?”

“Y-Yeah?” He felt like his heart was going to beat right out of his chest. This is the closest you’ve ever stood to him.

Your grip on his hand tightens, and you look up at him with a death stare. “Not a word to anyone about this.” You followed with a cutesy smile. “Alrighty?” You let go of his hand and put your stuff away before pulling out your car keys.

Dave stands frozen in place, a faint blush already spread across his cheeks. He swore you were going to be the death of him. He looked down for a second and realized that what you wrote down wasn’t just some random numbers. It was your phone number. It all just suddenly felt very real to him, he’d never gotten a girl’s number before. And you were just about the last person he’d expect it from too.

You got in your car and turned on your engine. “See ya on Saturday, Lizewski! Don’t be late or I’ll kill you!” You smile, before driving off at a totally normal and acceptable speed.

He gave a nervous wave before he looked back down at his hand. There was a little heart scribbled behind the phone number. It probably meant nothing.

But boy did it make his heart flutter.

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hotchfiles · 2 months

Text

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [CHOICELESS HOPE] ❞ — six. picket fence dream.

pairing: aaron hotchner x bau!reader. summary: the moment leading up to the kiss, the drumroll, is as good as the kiss itself. it's certainly more innocent. it's completely harmless. content warnings: canon divergent. emotional cheating (not on reader). angst. right person wrong time. it's confession time. no use of y/n. word count: 2k+ a/n: you might hate or love me let's see which is it

Rossi doesn’t usually come to his apartment, especially with no warning on a Sunday, especially at 7AM, so when Hotch sees his less than pleased expression through the peep hole he knows it’s bad.

“A crying drunk mumbling fucking mess. Porca miseria!” Dave wastes no time, the words finally free after hours of keeping them in.

“Good morning to you too, Dave.”

“Don’t. You know what you did.” Yes, Hotch knew. But he definitely didn’t expect this as the consequence. Still, he couldn’t even feign ignorance.

“So, you took her ho—” Rossi’s eyes are piercing enough to interrupt him and force an exhale. “Thanks.”

He is truly grateful, he is not usually one to act out like a child, much less one to leave people he cares about behind like that. You brought up his best and his worst. Much of his strength and thinking power went towards controlling himself. The rest got messy.

“What are you going to do?”

“Well, I’ll apologize tomo—”

“Aaron!”

“I don’t know. I just don’t. And Beth will be over with coffee in a bit.”

Aaron watches his much too annoyed closest friend pour himself a sip of scotch, drinking it all in a mouthful.

“You are throwing away a second chance people don’t normally get. Do you even know why?”

Of course he knows why. There are many many whys.

Jack needed the stability only someone out of this godforsaken job could give, and he adored Beth.

Haley wasn’t an agent and he lost her, being with you was accepting the fact you could leave with him for a case and simply not come back. Essentially getting his son, his baby boy, a step mom that could be taken from him the same way as his mother.

Beth gave Jack a bigger chance of not losing again.

It gave him a bigger chance to rebuild his picket fence dream home.

It was logical. It was the right choice.

The feeling in the pit of his stomach and the bitter taste on his tongue shows disagreement with that every time he ponders though. And it’s hard to make the right choice when his body and soul begs him not to.

Before he can even muster enough will power to argument his way out, Dave comes at him with more questions to shake his belief system to the core. “Is this about Haley? About Jack? Or are you really just incapable of letting yourself be happy?”

Ouch.

Rossi doesn’t pull any punches, Aaron knows that, it’s why they get along well, no sugarcoating. Doesn’t make it less annoying to deal with it so early in the morning. Especially after the hell night he had trying to sleep and being plagued by thoughts and worries of you.

“If anything was to happen it would’ve happened before I met Beth.”

“How could it when you are both idiots?” Aaron simply sighs, not having a good enough rebuttal to that.

It was a true, he was an idiot, he could’ve gone after you when he got divorced, or after his grief got less painful. But back then he was angry, feeling abandoned by you when he would’ve never done the same to you.

He begged you to not forget him, to call him. He waited, he called. It was all fruitless as you made your decision to take him out of your life already.

Now it all seemed too complicated and to act on those feelings would complicate it even more.

Aaron is saved by the bell, if anyone could consider hearing the knock on his door he knew to be Beth’s, one of the reasons of his internal conflict, being saved.

At least Rossi leaves him alone for the time being, excusing himself as soon as the brunette enters the apartment with a quick peck to Aaron’s lips. Surely enough, Hotch has to tell her later that morning that no, Dave has nothing against her, he was just moody from being awake too early.

Luckily most of the day is spent around Jack and what the wanted to do, making it more about spending time with his boy than a date, so he doesn’t have to focus too hard on being a good partner and on not thinking about you. But it’s all he thinks about when Beth leaves at night and he realizes morning come he will have to see you.

Your eyes don’t meet his for even one second as Garcia presents the case and he knows it then how truly he fucked up. You aren’t angry. You look tired, not your face, not your eye bags. In fact you look as beautiful and put together as you always do, but in the glimpses he catches of your eyes as you talk to someone else, he sees it. And it breaks his heart. You are exhausted, not because of the job.

Because of him. And the worst thing is, he can’t even leave you alone, being the Unit Chief meant having to talk to his team, it meant to lead. He sighs to himself as everybody gets out of the briefing room and he wants to brush his fingers against yours lightly like old times and make you smile, but most of all Aaron just wants to tell you how sorry he is that this is happening again.

He can’t do that, knowing right now it would only make things worse, so he just gets up from his chair, grabs his go-bag from his office and follows the motion until everyone is in the jet. There he does his best to suppress what is going on his mind to focus on the case.

Galena is a beautiful small town, quite romantic even, too bad it is now suffering with the abduction of two children, the case and the BAU disturbing its peace.

And that disturbance goes well into the night, when no one is able to work anymore and Hotch has to call it a day, figuring out on the spot that Garcia had to book them in pairs, his key card the same number as yours.

Hotch can imagine Garcia had someone influence her on the chosen pairs, Rossi was practically glowing with childish glee as everyone got their cards.

Both you and him are too prideful and professional to make a scene asking to switch with someone. You were stuck with him until the case is resolved.

The two single beds as you enter the room are a relief, but the distance between them aren’t nearly enough in comparison to how faraway from him you wished to be.

“Just like the old days, huh?” He’s the first to speak, trying to break the tension as he spread the files of the case on the only desk available.

“Don’t do that,” you reply quickly, your tone as tired as your eyes have been since the first time he saw you today.

You drop your bag on the floor close to your bed, the loud noise startles Aaron, but you don’t care, body aching and ready for rest.

“That what?”

“Talking. Don’t talk to me,” you clarify. Another loud noise, your body dropping on the bed without ceremony. Eyes closed and focused on pretending he wasn’t there.

He stays quiet for awhile and you think he might respect your request, so you relax in the clean sheets welcoming the slumber.

Unfortunately for the two of you, now you are annoyed. So annoyed his shuffling around papers make your skin crawl.

Just like the old days.

The complete audacity to begin with that as if he didn’t abandon you drunk just two days before.

You sigh deeply, putting a pillow over your face to try and muffle his annoying overwhelming presence.

It doesn’t work.

“God, please, breathe louder, I don’t think Japan has heard you yet,” you shoot at him, immediately sitting up and catching him working the case files.

“You want me to stop breathing too, is that it?” He doesn’t look up from the papers, annoyed at the childish antics you’re pulling, which irritates you even more.

“If you could be so kind to, yes!” Your voice is pure sarcasm and venom, reminding him of just how stubborn and strong-willed you can be.

Just as he stops his writing, pen left to the desk, you get up in a hurry, attempting to go to the bathroom and ready to slam the door behind you. Hotch is quicker, getting up from his chair and grabbing your wrist to stop you from avoiding him even more.

It doesn’t hurt. His grip is gentle and you know you can easily get away from it. But you don’t.

“Hey, I’m sorry.” You nod at his apology, but he knows that won’t be all, so Aaron lets your wrist slip from his fingers and waits for the arguing he’s been avoiding to start.

One beat.

Two.

Three beats pass before your mouth moves in sync with your drowning mind, “what exactly are you sorry about?”

Right to the jugular from the start. He obviously instantly thinks of the easy answer: Everything. But that’s not the answer you’re looking for. Beyond that, he knows it would be unfair for both of you to gloss over the situation once again.

You know Aaron isn’t stalling but actually thinking by the way his index and thumb rub together, his lips tightly pursued. Your stomach feels like it’s twirling, nervousness making an appearance now that this was about to happen. The talk. The admissions.

Both of you are aware now shouldn’t be the time to talk it all over, there is a case to work, a hard day to rest from, but this is 10 years in the making. The flight response was already drained, only fight left.

“I’m sorry for overstepping and turning our friendship into something confusing and uncomfortable,” he says slowly but firmly, but even so Aaron regrets his choice of words, more regret when he catches you rolling your eyes.

“Confusing and uncomfortable, sure,” you reply with the same sarcasm you displayed earlier, your arms now crossed defensively over your chest, “I hope that’s not the best you’ve got.”

“I’m trying here and I would appreciate a little less sarcasm.” His eyes are as piercing as his tone, you scoff at the manifestation of frustration, as if he had grounds for that right now.

Your feet have a mind of their own and you start pacing around the room, “Hotchner, I changed my whole life around ten years ago for the sake of your comfort.” That wasn’t untrue, although it had a lot to do with your comfort as well, but he needed to be reminded of your sacrifices. “And the first opportunity you had to be a dick to me you not only took it but doubled down on it!”

Hotch knows you are speaking about the gala and before he can control his tongue like he would in a time like this, " I got jealous! It took over me.”

It’s good that he doesn’t expect that to stop you or take your breath away because if anything, you’re angrier now.

“You have a girlfriend! You have no right to be jealous of me! You were married, Hotch! And I never did something like that to you.”

“You left! I love you and you left,” he notices his mistake and quickly tries to recover, “I loved you. You’re back and I don’t know what’s the right thing to do.”

He sits at the edge of his chosen bed, elbows to his knees, hands to his face and you finally stop on your heels, not knowing how to react to the confession you both have been denying yourselves from speaking out loud.

You swallow dry, sitting on the edge of your bed, right in front of him.

“I loveーI loved you too.” Your hands find home on his knees and his drop to hold them.

“l don’t know what to do. I want to do the right thing.” He sounds pained and you have to fight that desperate lover girl in your mind begging you to tell him to choose you.

“I can’t help you with that,” it’s what you actually end up saying, “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too.”

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario

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thewertsearch · 3 months

Text

He asks if you have a good winter hat. You nearly drop the radio in excitement.

Dave’s on his way too, so they can all play in the snow together.

Plus, Jade'll get to reunite with her 'grandson's' bunny, and we might finally get some movement on that plotline.

You wonder if it will always be like this. What sort of future does a new god have to look forward to? Will this malaise follow you for eternity? Will you be perpetually tempted to destroy everything you see, knowing that in just a few moments of recklessness, you will be left with nothing else to destroy forever? What will eternity feel like when a single moment of boredom feels like an eternity unto itself?

Some introspection here from the Sovereign Slayer, as Noir seems dimly aware that he’s under some sort of compulsion. He was created to be a violent murderer, and he's programmed to play that role in every session – which is fine by him.

But he was never meant to be a superboss. For hours now, he’s been operating entirely outside his normal parameters. He's wielding a power transcending this and every session, but he's stuck with the programming of a mid-level NPC. He's built to kill, as usual - but his destructive potential is too great, and he's killing too much, too fast.

There’s a mismatch here, and he can feel it.

You wish you could consult the clouds for answers. But they never show you anything.

More evidence that only Prospit-aligned beings can use Skaia's clouds.

Sorry, Jack. They're not for you.

You are now future Jack Noir. Presently, you are trapped in a single moment, which increasingly feels like an eternity. Your boredom is surpassed only by your all consuming rage and contempt for existence itself.

There's that bloody arm again, and it might be time to talk about it.

Now, technically, it could have come from almost anyone in the kids' session. The Carapacians all have red blood - but the thing is, all the notable Carapacians will escape the session safely. I think it's a pretty safe bet that the blood belongs to to one of the four kids - so who's our most likely target?

Well...

John was unharmed immediately before the Scratch, but that doesn’t preclude Jack from attacking him during its activation. It feels narratively climactic for the kids' semi-official leader to be mortally wounded while saving the session, and I think there's a decent chance that something like this will go down in the Act 5 finale.

Rose, of course, is soon to fall into the Blackout. I've been speculating that it could potentially hide her from Jack, but it's also possible that he could cause it himself. If he does attack her, she might be compelled to use more of the Horrorterrors’ power than she can control - and I can see that going south fast.

Dave's tied up in several days' worth of time loops, and it'd be hard to take him by surprise. We've probably heard from versions of Future Dave who know what caused the blood, and I think if he was about to be maimed, he'd be a lot more on-edge. Dave tries to hide his nerves, but he's not actually that good at it.

Jade can’t be harmed by Jack, which makes her the most interesting choice of all. I don't know how Jack could conquer the remnants of Becsprite in his heart - but if he does, we'll have lost the biggest advantage we have.

I'm honestly not sure. Right now, I think John's the most likely target - but not by much. Really, it could really be anyone.

#homestuck liveblog #full liveblog #act 5.2 #3561 #s134

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dixons-sunshine · 4 months

Text

Yielding Isn't My Middle Name—Chapter Two | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Chapter Summary: You and Daryl get a little bit more insight on your ambushers. The leader, Liam, is extremely suspicious, but you just can't figure out why. And to top it off, a certain secret of yours gets revealed that changes everything.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of injuries.

Word count: 3.6k.

A/n: It's finally done. I powered through and got it done. Yay me! However, this chapter is pretty boring with limited action, but I hope y'all like this nonetheless!

Taglist: @dixons-girl89, @jupiter1700, @enlightndone, @shadowcitrine, @ddamm (comment/DM/inbox to be added!)

“I know, it's a lot to take in at first.” With a grand gesture and a big, inviting smile, Liam proudly showed off the beautiful landscape behind him, putting all of the luxuries they had on display for you and Daryl to see—well, as far as luxuries could go in a world ran by the undead. “But I promise you, as soon as you get settled into your new...” There was a slight pause before he continued. “...chambers, a wonderful life most certainly awaits you.”

The leader's voice barely reached your ears. The whole scenario baffled you; if they wanted you to join their community, why feel the need to ambush and kidnap you? Why tie you up and throw you in the back of a van, with a sack over your head to obscure your vision, most likely as a way to ensure you didn't know what turns they took? And why wouldn't they just ask you whether or not you wanted to join the community in the first place?

A million thoughts ran with the speed of light through your mind, but there was one thing you knew for sure; you didn't trust this Liam guy, and you certainly didn't trust this community. You could immediately tell that something was off. You couldn't figure out just yet what about it unnerved you so much.

“Dave, Marco.” At the sound of their names being called, the two guys who stood beside you and Daryl perked up, their backs straightening as they regarded their leader. “Make sure that the cooks make enough food for our newest additions. And,” he began, looking at you with a sympathetic look in his eyes. Whether it was real or not, you didn't know yet. “Call up doctor Miller and tell him to expect two patients.”

“Why two?” one of the goons questioned. He looked at Daryl in disgust, something that irked you beyond belief. “Only the sexy lady here seems like she needs it.”

From the corner of your eye, you could clearly see Daryl tense up. To the untrained eye, they wouldn't even have noticed the way the archer's body language shifted, but you caught it. Of course you caught it. You knew Daryl better than anyone, and you knew that he was getting more pissed off by the second. One wrong move, and that man was more dead than the monster's that roamed the earth.

“Jesus, Dave,” Liam reprimanded him, clicking his tongue and shaking his head in disappointment. “You knocked the guy out with some hardcore stuff. We don't know how much of the fumes he inhaled. I don't want to take any chances. Our guests need to be properly checked out.”

Dave grumbled something under his breath, but ultimately agreed. However, right before he and the other man, who you assumed to be Marco, walked off in the direction of a small building, he stopped next to Liam and whispered something in his ear. The leader nodded before waving him off. They left and soon disappeared, and your attention quickly got drawn to the leader again.

Liam turned back to regard you and your husband. His lips formed into a tight smile, his eyes squinting with the pull of the muscles. For some reason, the action sent a shiver up your spine, and definitely not the good kind you'd experience when Daryl softly traced his fingers over your back. You had a lot to be wary of, and this Liam guy certainly didn't make a very good first impression on you or Daryl. You were sure that your husband wanted to lunge at the man and pound his face into the ground with his bare hands, and you definitely didn't blame him. You wanted to do the exact same thing.

Liam motioned to someone over your shoulder. In moments, somebody was grabbing at your shoulders and hoisting you up onto your feet. You stumbled a bit, not tumbling back to the ground only because Liam stepped forward to steady you. You instantly jerked back, moving away from his touch. You would've punched him for even thinking of touching you when he was the reason you were probably light-years away from your friends and family, but the rope tightly binding your hands stopped you from doing so.

You heard grunting coming from behind you. You spun around and saw the same goon practically manhandling your husband, forcing him up to his feet. When Daryl struggled against his hold, the man decided that punching him would be a good decision. The sight of Daryl being knocked back down to the gravel unleashed a certain protectiveness in you, and you took a warning step forward.

“You stay the fuck away from him, and keep your goddamn hands to yourself!” you yelled in anger, moving over to your husband and sinking down to your knees beside him. You thanked your lucky stars that your hands were bound in front of you and not behind your back, because it allowed you to trace your fingers over his face, searching for any bleeding. “Baby—”

“M'alrigh',” Daryl mumbled, glaring up at his attacker, his eyes alight with the fire of a thousand suns. “Asshole punches like a girl. No offense, Peach.”

You gave him a small smile. “None taken.” You helped him sit back up with a lot of effort, your hands straining against the rope and getting rope burn in the process. You clambered up onto your knees and carefully stood up, struggling to maintain your balance. Daryl followed your lead, and soon the two of you were stood in front of the leader.

Liam gazed at the two of you thoughtfully, his face unreadable. His green eyes flickered between you and Daryl for a moment too long for your liking before he readapted his smile. “Sorry about that, mate,” he began, his gaze landing on Daryl before moving over to the goon that had just attacked Daryl a few moments prior. “Peter just doesn't know how to behave himself.” The aforementioned man cowered under his leader's gaze, something you instantly picked up on and locked in the back of your mind. “Don't worry, he'll be punished appropriately.”

“Sir, please, I'm so—”

“Save it,” Liam snapped, glaring at the man harshly. “You know the rules, Peter. All actions have consequences. Those are the rules. If I ease up on you, the next person will expect me to do so and order will be disrupted.” He stopped for a few moments, simply staring at Peter with an unreadable look in his eyes. “You are dismissed. I expect you to be in my office in two hours. If you're not, well, you know what will happen.”

Whether that last part was a warning or a threat, you didn't know. However, what you did know was that for whatever reason, this Peter guy was deathly terrified of his leader. He visibly slumped and averted his eyes from everyone as he hurried away, practically bolting as if being chased by something.

Now being left alone with Liam, your eyes locked with the man's green ones. You couldn't quite place your finger on it, but there was something wrong with the man in front of you. He reminded you a lot of the Governor, the more you thought about it, but at the same time, he was different. It annoyed you to no end that you couldn't quite figure out exactly what about the green-eyed man made you feel cautious.

Well, his men ambushed and kidnapped you and your husband, so that was a pretty good place to start.

“Once again, I am so incredibly sorry about that,” Liam started, his face adapting a look of sympathy. “Peter is a rather new addition to my ‘police force’, so to speak. He hasn't quite learned that we don't resort to violence unless it's an absolute necessity.” He stopped for a second, looking at you before sighing. “Miss, I truly am sorry about what Peter did to you as well. Please excuse me for saying this again, but you do look like shit.”

You couldn't understand what this man's deal was. Merely a few minutes ago, while he was surrounded by multiple of his men, he had seemingly mocked you about the injuries you had sustained. However, now he was apologizing and being sympathetic? What was this man's motive?

“Now, Daryl and Y/N, I believe?” Liam began, successfully gaining confused and guarded looks from both you and your husband.

“How the hell do ya know tha'?” Daryl barked defensively, straightening his back to appear larger—almost as if he was facing a bear.

Liam's lips twitched up into a small wicked smirk at the archer, but he very quickly disguised it with a welcoming smile. “I know a lot of things, mate.” He shrugged his shoulders and motioned to the farmland surrounding you. “I need to know things to keep my people safe. They depend on me, you know?”

“Still doesn't answer my goddamn question,” Daryl practically growled, taking a threatening step towards the man. “How the fuck do ya know our names?”

Liam didn't falter under the Dixon man's harsh glare. If anything, he straightened his posture and met Daryl head-on, his height adding an advantage over the archer. However, having known your husband for a long time, you knew it was time to intervene before he started a fight he wouldn't be able to finish. His hands were tied and Liam had who knows how many people to back him up. The two of you were heavily outnumbered and outgunned.

“Daryl,” you called to him softly, raising your tied hands to gently grip his shoulder. “I really don't think that's the thing we should be concerned about right now. It doesn't matter if he knows our names. What matters is that we have to get the fuck out of here. We do that by playing along for now,” you mumbled into his ear, quiet enough to not alert Liam of your plan.

Daryl glared at the leader of the community for a few moments longer before stepping back, sharing a determined look with you. You gave him a small smile before turning back to Liam, regarding the green-eyed man with a strained, fake smile.

“I'm sorry about him,” you began, your voice sickeningly sweet. You were taking a page out of Carol's book—you were playing the wolf in sheep's clothing, biding your time until you and Daryl could strike back. You could only hope that your earlier outburst towards Peter wouldn't be used to call your bluff. “It's just that we weren't brought here under the friendliest circumstances. And now you know our names and it's a bit creepy. He's being wary.”

“For good reason,” Liam replied with a nod, motioning for you and Daryl to follow him. You shared a look with Daryl before following behind the man, Daryl following close behind. “You can't be sure about the dangerous pricks that are out there.”

“Ironic, ain't it?” Daryl grumbled lowly, glaring at Liam through his hair as the two of you followed behind the leader. He received a slight jab to his stomach from your elbow, and he let out a soft grunt.

“You see, that's why we built this place.” Liam walked on and motioned to the fields on his left. There were multiple people working on the crops; some watering, some picking, and some planting. You couldn't be completely sure, but you swore you saw a faint glint of metal wrapped around most of the workers' legs. Were you just out of it from the pain in your head, or were those shackles?

“Well, built is the wrong word. We found this farm back when everything first went to shit. The crops and the farmhouse were luckily still standing. We... expanded, so to speak. We built the walls to keep the flesh eaters out and built more homes on the property to house our growing population.” He stopped and turned back to you and Daryl. “I hope you don't mind, but you'll have to stay in the farm house with me for the time being. We're busy building new homes but it won't be ready for another couple of weeks, maybe months.”

“Jus' one question 'fore we decide,” Daryl began, stepping forward. “Why'd ya have to bring us here by force? Why didn't ya jus' ask us to come here instead of kidnappin' us?”

Liam stared at Daryl with a blank expression on his face. His face didn't give anything away, and it unnerved you beyond belief. However, he soon gave the two of you yet another smile. You were genuinely starting to wonder if his face was starting to hurt from the excessive amount of smiling.

“There's a reason for everything, champ. However, not everyone is allowed to know my reasonings to the things I do. That's reserved for the people I trust. But do know that I did it for your own goods. Between you and me, that entire building was surrounded by flesh eaters. You most certainly would've died without my men.”

“Wha' the hell do ya know 'bout—”

“Sir? I'm so sorry to interrupt you, but Dr Miller is ready for the new arrivals,” a small, timid woman spoke up, gaining the attention of you, Daryl and Liam.

“Ah, Mariah,” Liam spoke, nodding at her in greeting. He turned back to you and Daryl, using his hand to motion towards the woman. “Please follow her to Dr Miller. He'll make sure to patch you up and ensure you're fit and ready for tomorrow.” He walked a few steps backwards and clapped his hands twice. “Welcome to Sunny Meadows! Come meet me in the farm house once you're done.”

With that, he turned around and stalked off, leaving you and Daryl alone with the woman, Mariah. The aforementioned woman turned to look at the two of you. She was nervously fidgeting with her hands, her posture slouched and her eyes couldn't decide whether to focus on you, your husband, your wounds, the ropes tying your hands together, or the ground. You were confused by her obvious fear towards you. What people was she used to dealing with? Did she really think that you were going to hurt her?

“Please follow me,” she stammered out with a nervous squeak, turning around and speeding off into the direction of the very same building those other men, Dave and Marco, had disappeared into earlier.

You hesitantly started following her. Daryl grumbled and followed your lead, glaring at any person who dared to lock eyes with him. You had to withhold your chuckles at your husband, knowing that it was neither the time nor place for that. Under normal circumstances, you'd laugh at your husband's antics. But not now. Not when your main priority was getting the hell out of that place.

You soon arrived at the makeshift medical building. You followed her in, taking in the pure doctor-like feel of the building. If you didn't know any better and somebody had blindfolded you and brought you here, you would've believed that this was a legitimate doctor's office. But you did know better.

A man, who you presumed to be this doctor Miller character everyone was talking about, placed a syringe down on the table and gave you all inviting smiles. “Welcome!” he greeted you enthusiastically—and rather loudly, too. You winced at the sound, being painfully reminded of the incessant throbbing in your skull. “You both look rather terrible. Who should I focus on first?”

“Owen,” Mariah began in a soft voice. “If I may, maybe the woman? She took quite the beating.”

“Peter?” the doctor inquired, shaking his head and sighing when Mariah nodded. “That man has sent more patients my way than any scavenging trip accident has. I don't even know why your husband still keeps him around.”

Wait, husband? Liam was Mariah's husband? Then why was he treating her like that? Why was she so scared of him? A million different possibilities ran through your mind for the obvious fear the woman held towards her husband, and none of them were good. Daryl's ocean coloured eyes locked with your eyes. He visibly shared the same confusion as you. However, the doctor's orders caught your attention.

“Mariah, is it really necessary to have their hands tied? I can see the irritation from here. Please remove their binds.” Doctor Miller stopped for a moment, regarding you and Daryl with a thoughtful look. “Sir, ma'am, speaking from experience, please don't try to run or attack once those binds are removed. Whenever there's a new addition, the walls are very guarded. You'll be shot instantly.”

Mariah gingerly removed the ropes from your arms and tried to remove Daryl's. However, your husband flinched back at the foreign touch, making the woman confused. You simply gently pushed her aside and moved over to him, starting to untie his binds. This time, Daryl stood still, and in no time at all, his hands were freed. He rubbed his wrists, the rope burns visible.

“Alright,” the doctor started. “Ma'am, please lay down on the bed. I'll tend to you shortly. Sir, you may take a seat on that chair next to the bed while you wait.”

You looked out of the window and weighed your options. However, the doctor wasn't lying; there were multiple guards patrolling the walls in the distance. There also were guards walking up to the makeshift medical building, most likely being sent to ensure you and Daryl didn't try anything.

You had no other option. You had to continue playing along.

You slowly walked over to the bed and laid down. Daryl hesitantly plopped himself down on the chair next to the bed, his eyes darting around the room. He was clearly trying to think of an escape plan, but he wasn't succeeding.

“Alright,” Doctor Miller began, walking out of the side room and rolling a machine out with him.

You instantly knew what that machine was. “No, doctor, you can't. No, don't—”

“Woah, woah, woah.” Daryl stood up from the chair and glared at the doctor, his mind instantly assuming the worst at your reaction. “The hell is tha'?”

“Sir, please relax.” Mariah walked up to the side of the bed, grabbing a tube of some sort of gel from the drawer. “We have some new equipment we've been wanting to test out. We found this ultrasound machine yesterday. We just want to test it out and make sure it works.”

Your heart stopped beating. All at once, thoughts of your unborn baby flooded your mind. You couldn't believe that you had forgotten about the fact that you were pregnant. With everything that happened, your mind neglected to remind you of that pivotal fact. And now everyone was going to know, including your husband who you had yet to tell.

“Doc, I don't think that's a good idea,” you warned him, pleaded with him, but the man didn't listen.

“Nonsense. This'll be over before you know it. It won't hurt, I promise you.”

“Ma'am, can I lift your shirt?” Too frozen to answer her, you simply stared. Deciding for you, Mariah lifted your shirt a bit and opened the tube with the gel. “This might be a bit cold.”

The cold was the least of your worries. You had taken quite the beating. What if your baby was hurt? What if your baby was dead? What if the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat? All of those thoughts flooded your mind, so much so that you barely heard Daryl talking to the doctor.

“Why does she need'a do tha'? Can't some other chick do this?”

“I was going to ask someone to come in today to test it, but she's here now. Might as well get it out of the way.” Doctor Miller started with the exam, placing the object on your stomach and moving it around. At first, the screen didn't pick up a thing, and that made you want to cry. However, the steady thumping of a heartbeat could soon be heard, and a small figure appeared on the screen.

“Oh, wow. That's a strong heartbeat,” Doctor Owen Miller told you with a smile, the ultrasound depicting a growing baby. “Congratulations, you two.”

Your heart was attempting to jump out of your chest. It was amazing to you that the little blob on the screen would soon develop into a baby, your baby. You would pick out their name and scavenge for things for your little one, and you're sure Daryl would—

Oh, god. Daryl.

Slowly looking over to your left, you locked eyes with your husband. Instead of finding the love, affection and adoration that usually swam in his ocean coloured eyes, you found something else. You found anger, shock, worry, but above all else? You could see a renewed sense of determination in his eyes.

The archer was pissed at you for hiding your pregnancy and convincing him to let you wander beyond the walls, but he couldn't think about that. He had to get you to safety, away from these monsters. He had to keep you and your unborn baby safe.

The doctor should've heeded your warning. The doctor never should've insisted to take an ultrasound. Because of doctor Owen Miller, Daryl Dixon was determined. Daryl Dixon was going to tear that whole place apart, and anyone who dared to lay a finger on you would meet an agonizing end.

The people of Sunny Meadows were going to pay.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

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pedroshotwifey · 6 months

Text

Know Better

Pairing: Daddy!Dave York x bratty!fem!reader

Word count: 1.2k

tags/warnings: heavy daddy kink, spanking, dom dave york, sub reader, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, pussy spanking, brat tamer dave york, dirty talk, embarrassment

Summary: You disobey Dave and he has no choice but to punish you for it.

A/N: Here's a surprise Dave fic that nobody asked for because I got pissed off on vacation. Also, I saw this as a sugar daddy/brat kind of situation, but you can obviously imagine it any way you want!

*****

“Daveee!”

You whine loudly from where you’re perched and on a pool float, watching him as he makes another business call. He shoots you a sharp look that should be warning enough for you to stop, but you’ve never been one to learn your lesson the easy way.

You know it’s an important call since he paused his lounging with you to answer it. The two of you have been sitting by the pool for a few hours now, not really talking, but just enjoying each other’s presence as he read a book in his chair, and you laid out on your long float. Still, you can’t help but try to get his attention solely on you again.

“Daveeeee,” you moan again, stretching his way.

He turns to look at you again, gaze fiery as he points to the phone and mouths at you to quit. You should probably stop while you’re ahead, but you don’t. With all the work he’s been doing lately, he promised he would be spending this weekend with you, and only you.

You put on a heavy pout and pull yourself out of the pool to walk over to him. You can’t hear what’s being said on the other side of the phone, but it’s not like you’re trying too hard as you walk up to him and throw your arms around his neck. You nuzzle a couple of kisses to his clean-shaven jaw and whisper in his unoccupied ear.

“Come back, Daddy. I want you over here.”

He moves his hand to your waist, and you think for a second that you’ve won him over—quicker than you thought you would as well. But then he squeezes. Hard. Hard enough for you to attempt to get out of his grasp.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Tell, but I’m going to have to give you a call back.”

Your eyes widen at the grip and the tone he speaks with. And that name…you know that name. You know they must be talking about…

Shit. That’s what you’re in. Deep fucking shit.

“Yes sir, thank you. Bye.”

He hangs up the phone and sets it slowly on the table next to him. His hand comes up to grip your forearm tightly and he leans down until his face is less than an inch from yours.

“What the fuck did I tell you about interrupting my phone calls?” he demands in a cold tone.

You shiver in his hold as shameful tears start to sting the backs of your eyes. You’ve never heard him talk to you in such a way. Sure, he’s been firm at times, maybe agitated with your bratty attitude, but never downright angry at you.

“Dave, I-I didn’t mea—“

“Inside,” he growls. “Now. And I don’t know who the fuck you’re calling ‘Dave’ right now.”

He lets you go with a small but forceful push toward the door. You know what happens now. Again, he’s dabbled in the idea of punishment, but so far, he’s never actually had a good reason to act on it.

You take a trembling step inside and head toward the bedroom, Dave hot on your heels. You don’t even have a chance to peel out of your bathing suit before he grabs your arm again and drags you over his lap as he takes a seat on the bed. You yelp as he pulls your bikini bottom down, exposing your lower half.

“I take it you understand how important that call was.”

He waits for you to nod softly before continuing, one hand rubbing your ass in a careful motion.

“So you understand why I’m doing this. ”

You nod again, holding in a sniffle.

He doesn’t wait any longer before lifting his hand and then bringing it down hard on your bare ass. You grasp the sheets in front of you and yelp in pain. Your skin is still damp from getting out of the pool, so the smack hurts even more than it would normally.

You bite your lip to hide any more sounds as he quickly does it again, your body jolting with the force of it.

“Little fucking brat. Think you can just have all of my time.”

You sniff, a rogue tear running down your cheek.

“But, Daddy—“

Another smack, one that makes you practically scream comes down, and then another right after.

“Brats and attention whores don’t get to talk back to their daddies,” Dave barks back. He rubs your stinging ass again, and you flinch even at that contact.

“You have three more.” He tells you, no gentleness in his tone. “Count.”

You nod and brace yourself for the next hit, but it doesn’t come. Instead, you feel him reach his hand lower to rub across your wet folds. A dark chuckle comes from above you as he runs his middle finger over your clit.

“Fucking slut,” he breathes through a laugh.

It’s only then, once you relax, that he spanks you again, this time with enough force to cause a welt. You scream out and squirm in his lap.

“Count.”

“O-One,” you shake.

He rubs your pussy again, roughly smearing your slick. He then brings that same hand up and delivers another swift slap.

“Two,” you say, tears running freely now.

And again, his hand is back, one finger prodding your hole and making you moan despite yourself.

But then he retracts it and winds up to send the last spank onto the sensitive flesh of your ass.

“Three!” You scream as your body jolts.

Even though you can still feel his anger, Dave relaxes a bit at your pain and obvious regret. His hand goes down to your cunt again, letting a finger slide fully in this time. His thumb goes to your clit, rubbing tight circles as a coil starts to wind in your abdomen.

“Mm, Daddy, please,” you beg. It feels so good. You never thought pain could contrast pleasure so nicely.

“Yeah, you want Daddy to let your slut pussy come on his hand?”

“Mm, yes please, Daddy.”

You keeps working you, letting you get closer and closer, your toes start curling as you grasp onto the sheets and then—

Then he pulls out. You whine sharply in protest.

“Daddy, no!”

You shut up as he spanks your pussy, a wet smacking sound coming from between your messy thighs, which tremble with the rest of your body at the feeling. The build up is gone, and you’re left feeling betrayed and embarrassed. Not to mention with a sore ass.

“No. Bad girls don’t get treats.”

He helps you up, your bikini bottoms still around your knees as he stands up.

“Go get in the shower. Dinner will be ready when you get out.” He turns to leave, but then turns back to you after a couple of steps. “And don’t you fucking dare touch that little cunt. I’ll know if you do, and you won’t be coming for a long time if you choose to disobey me again.”

He leaves the room without another word, leaving you needy and fucking furious. But you get in the shower anyway, and you don’t risk touching yourself—even though you really fucking want to. You know better than to disobey Daddy, after all.

******

Hi, babes! Sorry I've been a bit off the radar recently. I've been on vacation (as previously mentioned) but will be coming back tmw. TTF updates and requested fics will be posted regularly once I get back home!

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strawbeerossi · 1 year

Text

Backyard Shenanigans

Pairing: Gender Neutral!Reader x Spencer Reid

Description: When David Rossi is away for some book related event, you convince Spencer to sneak into his backyard with you to take a dip in the pool

Content/Warnings: Casually breaking the law, fun banter with Spencer, sub!Spencer, handjob, minor praise kink, they get caught after the fact

Word Count: 1.7K

Kinktober Day Six: Pool Sex

Navigation || Kinktober Masterlist || AO3

“I don’t think this is a good idea.” Spencer stuttered as he glanced around nervously, trailing behind you while you held his wrist. “I think you’re being paranoid.” You hummed in return. Breaking into David Rossi’s backyard couldn’t be that hard, could it?

Dave was currently away for some book signing, leaving the pool in the backyard fully open for anyone who decided to use it. That’s why you were dragging Spencer with you, the moonlight illuminating the streets as you both ran together.

“I’m not! W-What if Rossi has cameras?!”

“Then we will smile and wave at him while we use his pool, duh. We both know he won’t be able to get mad at us.” She stated while the two eventually approached the house, well, mansion, in question. “There is no way we are getting over that privacy fence.” Spencer chimed in.

Ugh. Anything to try and run away to go home.

“Give me a boost. I can unlock the door to the fence inside.” He had no choice in the matter as your hand was resting against his shoulder, the male awkwardly leaning down before cupping his hands. “Just don’t break something. I will not hesitate to run and leave you there.” He grumbled. With your hands on the top of the wooden fence, you’d slid your way over. You managed to take a tumble, underestimating your cat like reflexes but you were fine. Just a bruised ego.

He didn’t wish you harm but part of Spencer hoped you hurt yourself, giving him the chance to run and leave you to explain just why you were in David’s backyard. Unfortunately for him, the sound of a latch being lifted had alerted him. “I told you that I could do it. Now get in here.”

“We are gonna get arrested for breaking and entering.”

“I didn’t break anything, can’t arrest us for just entering a backyard.”

“Right..”

As soon as you’d gotten Spencer inside the backyard, you were quickly latching the gate again while facing him. “Alright. Now let’s swim.” You grinned, your hands moving to unbutton your shirt while the male in front of you was flabbergasted. “What are you doing?!”

“What? I can’t swim in my clothes. Come on, Reid. I thought you were some big brained genius. You can swim in your outfit if you want but I’m not ruining mine.” You spoke in a simple tone while getting the button up you had on off before tossing it to the side, tugging your shorts down your legs soon after.

Spencer was at a loss for words, mouth wide open as his gaze was fixed on your body that was half exposed to him right now. The thought of your underwear being the only thing separating the rest of you from him, it had unholy thoughts crossing his mind. He could feel a heat rushing to his cheeks, slowly rubbing the back of his neck as soon as he had to drag his attention away from you.

“Come on, don’t be a baby!” You groaned while heading over to your partner in crime for the night as you were letting your hand mess with his vest. “I know you are probably embarrassed but I promise that I’m not gonna judge you. Let’s just do something fun! Besides, I think we will have the ultimate bragging rights at the office.” You mused.

There was no doubt you’d be telling everyone at the office about this. You managed to get away with sneaking into Rossi’s yard! That was an accomplishment within itself.

“F-fine. Only because I want Morgan to see that I’m capable of doing something like this.” He grumbled, making you smile widely as you were letting your arms shoot over your head in victory. “Yes! Okay, I’m gonna get in.” You announce, sitting on the edge of the pool while dipping your feet into the water. “Oh my god.” You shivered while just taking the plunge, pushing your body into the freezing cold water. The faster you got adjusted, the faster you would be able to mess with Reid by splashing him and being a menace.

Spencer had watched you throw yourself into the water while swallowing a lump in his throat. This wasn’t something he’s done. Swimming in his underwear is just like being in a swimsuit though, right?

He was moving to push his slacks down his legs before heading over to lay the clothes he’d taken off on a lounge chair. He was really going to do this. “Jump in!” Your voice urged while he was looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Isn’t it cold? Why would I jump?” The question didn’t warrant a response, instead making you climb out of the pool while standing beside him. “We are jumping together.” The sight of your skin dripping with chlorinated water had him clearing his throat.

Just think of something else. Baseball.

“Are we? Cause I didn’t sign up for-” However he was cut off as your hands shoved him into the water, a laugh leaving your lips as he was falling into the deep end of the pool, a big splash hitting you in the process. Seeing him resurface had you putting a hand up to your mouth to laugh. “Y/N!” He groaned while brushing his hair back from his face while you were jumping back into the water, in turn causing a huge splash to hit him in the face.

“Sorry.” You laughed, noticing the pout on his face as he looked in your direction, his wet hair being pushed back from his face soon after. “You didn’t have to push me in.” He grumbled, causing another laugh to escape your lips as you shrugged. “Would you have jumped in?”

“Fair enough.” He puffed, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders in preparation to dunk him under the chlorinated water.

Spencer could feel his breath caught in his throat as he could feel the warmth radiating off of your body even in the cold water, the mere idea of having any inch of your bare skin against his had waves of electricity coursing through all two hundred and six of his bones. His face was flushed, the idea of even the slightest touch overpowering his many ways to avoid getting hard.

There was no hiding it as you pushed him under the water, feeling his hard cock graze your leg the minute he went under. Your cheeks were hot the minute he came back up, mouth parted slightly. “Are you- Are you hard right now?”

“W-what?!” Spencer squeaked. You’d caught him. Fuck. “I-I.. No! Why would you think that?”

“Because you aren’t very good at hiding it!” Your voice was a higher octave, yet you still stayed put. “I’m sorry.” The man was humiliated, which wasn’t what you wanted in the slightest. You’d had a lot of fun tonight, you didn’t want an awkward encounter to ruin the relationship you two had.

“You don’t have to be sorry.” Even though the privacy fence covered everything, you were glancing around the backyard anyway. “Do you uh.. Do you want help with it?”

The question nearly knocked the wind out of Spencer. “In the pool??” He asked, face now a deep shade of red while he bit his inner cheek.

“Nobody will know.” You added on soon after while offering a smile, arms around his shoulders as you made an effort to pull yourself closer. You weren’t expecting this in the slightest when you made plans tonight but hey, that’s the beauty of life.

After a tense silence, Spencer was the one to take that first leap, his lips crashing into yours. It was rushed, desperate. He needed you, he knew that much. As you reciprocated the feverish kiss, it wasn’t long until your hand was sliding between your bodies. “You’re sure that you want this?” The words were muffled against his lips considering he just would not let you pull away.

“I do. I do. Please..” He whined, hips lightly bucking as your hand was resting the prominent bulge in the underwear he’d gotten in with. Hearing him beg sent a round of arousal through your body, head nodding as you were letting your hand gently slide down the waistband. This rush of confidence was new for you, for sure. Regardless, you had your hand slowly wrapping around his hard cock, hand slowly pumping along the shaft that was standing at full attention.

Spencer’s eyes were squeezed shut, mouth agape as a series of shallow breaths and whines were escaping his lips. “Ah~” He shivered, your hand moving faster under the water as you leaned forward to press a few soft kisses against his neck, loving the way his body reacted to the smallest of touches. It was like he’d been deprived of touch for years.

Then again, he was a sweet and awkward little thing so you figured it made sense he wasn’t exactly getting touched as much as he’d like.

As your hand dragged along his cock, you lifted your head from the crook of his neck to take in every reaction.”Does it feel good Spencer?” It was an obvious question but you so desperately needed to hear that whiny voice.

“Y-yes.” His voice was breathy, cheeks red as he bucked his hips into your hand while letting his head fall against your shoulder, face nuzzling in your neck. “I-I’m gonna-” He panted against your skin, making you squeeze the base of his cock before picking up the pace of your hand.

You knew he was far gone the moment he bit down on your shoulder to suppress a cry, however it didn’t really muffle much as he was cumming from your touch. “There we go.. Good job.” You cooed, hand slowly slowing down before your hand was pulled from his boxers.

However the time was short lived whenever you felt the light of the back porch turn on, both of you nearly having a heart attack as you both turned around. “What the hell are you both doing in my backyard?”

“Swimming.” You and Spencer both rushed to speak, faces bright red.

“I’m gonna pretend like I didn’t see you both and give you time to get out of my backyard. Don’t let me catch you sneaking in here again.” David grunted while narrowing his eyes at the both of you. “You’re getting billed for when I get this pool cleaned as well.” He huffed, turning around to go back inside.

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