#i feel like i said this before. but after Behind The Codes. this story is probably going to be the next thing i'll be working with | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

onlyswan · 6 months

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summary: in which you drive jungkook mad but you make his heart beat.

idol!jungkook x f!reader, est. relationship / fluff, suggestive, a pinch of angst / word count: 5k

content/warnings: tried sumn different so this is mainly from jungkook’s pov :D !! drummer!oc ur so cool & i’m stealing u from ur bf 🏃— mention of a 10 yr age gap between jk & a guy who likes oc (he’s hella pissed off) ; mentions of (car) s^x ; allusion to a bl^wj^b ; jk just got home from tour & oc is tipsy, needy, & dramatic as hell T_T ; oc /briefly/ touches jk while he’s driving & he /nearly/ loses his shit & crashes the car (he doesn’t) (i’m kidding) + to the anon who wanted to jk’s cheek scar to get a kissy here u go 🥺

> in which masterlist!

note: oc is so shot glass of tears coded especially in this… i’m glad i’m posting this after golden came out just so i could say it 🥰 this takes place after this drabble sooo the end of oct 2018 <3 if u’ve read the prev drabble too, this was when jk said those exact words in the past 🥺 wrote this in the middle of hell week so i was half out of my mind :'] as always feedback & reblogs rrr always appreciated !! 🥺

—

jungkook loves the sound of rain— the gentle knocks on every surface of the earth has always been a lullaby even during daylight.

tonight is a different story, however. it is defeaning, terrifying even. he can barely see what is infront of him, spare the occasional headlights blazing across the slippery roads. his umbrella is being stolen away by the harsh gusts of wind and the mud stains on his sneakers are well-hidden by the plain black.

and yes, he is tired; and yes, this is hard, but that is the end of it.

you’re exactly where you told him you’d wait, far behind the edge of the roof where the rainwater falls from and splashes on the ground. you stand out in his blue oversized shirt, one that he purposely left behind in your closet so he could have something else to wear when he sleeps over.

you’re too busy typing on your phone to see him crossing the parking lot; he feels his very own vibrate in the pocket of his sweatpants. however, his giddy smile fades when a man exits through the entrance door and approaches you with a red umbrella. his strides become slightly hurried then, as he watches you politely decline it with that heart-fluttering smile of yours everybody adores.

“oh no, really, i’m fine. you might need it later! my boyfriend is already coming to pick me up anyway.”

jungkook acts cool. he tucks his hand in the pocket of his sweatpants, tries to make himself appear bigger because he realizes that he would be inches shorter than the man if not for the platforms of his shoes.

“____, baby!”

upon hearing your name coming from the lips of your lover, your face lights up even brighter.

“jungkook!”

you greet him with an embrace, jumping into his arms before he can properly set down his umbrella on the ground.

“yah, yah-yah! be careful!” he chuckles as he wraps his arms around your waist to catch you, peering down to check how high your boots are for you to be running and jumping around freely.

“hey, i’m going back inside- there’s more customers coming in. make it home safe, alright?”

the stranger tries to catch your attention, and jungkook’s protectiveness swiftly kicks in when he lays a hand on you and slides it down to your lower back. your boyfriend turns you away from the unprompted touch by pulling your body closer to his side, and he is unable to control how his eyebrows knit together in annoyance.

he wasn’t planning on giving much thought to the presence of a man around you. he knows better than that. but he has never heard about this one, which raises the question of who the fuck is he to freely touch you like that?

“oh- alright! thank you, jun!”

“you better take care of ____, man. it’s dangerous around here during this time.”

he receives a rather heavy and condescending pat on the shoulder, and so, with his annoyance bubbling worse, he wears a passive aggressive smile on his face.

“yeah, of course i am,”

jun’s nostrils flare as he witnesses you sneakily slide your hands underneath jungkook’s hoodie in search of warmth.

“i’m here now, so there’s no need to worry about my girlfriend anymore.”

he nods, then forces himself to smile. “that’s good, then.”

“yeah, thanks. we’re leaving.”

“oh, okay. have a nice night!”

“you too,”

he turns on his heel and returns inside the busy establishment— but not before jungkook made sure that he saw the bruises on his knuckles that he got from his boxing sessions.

his jaw clenches as he glares at the door.

is he being petty? sure, to hell with that. he doesn’t care. he’s always been one to trust his gut, and he has a bad feeling.

he is met by a love-drunk smile when his undivided attention is at last given to you, in the form of fond eyes and affectionate strokes of your hair.

“who was that?”

“eh, new bartender,” you shrug with disinterest. “hm, i think he’s 31…? he’s nice but he keeps talking about wrestling.”

he raises an eyebrow at the mention of his age, while your lips form a sad pout.

what the hell? he thought he would be 25 at most.

“the tv has been in the same channel for the past two weeks because of him. it’s all i’ve been seeing! i don’t like it-” you whine in distress, quite frankly, a little traumatized.

an endeared smile is coaxed out of him at your adorableness, how your speech is a little slurred and how you’re looking at him like you’re begging him to do something about it.

“makes me nervous,”

his dominant hand closes into a fist.

if he only he had known. should’ve fucking punched the guy, give him a taste of what he seems to be a huge fan of.

“let’s watch something calming when we get home, how about that?”

you nod your head, eyes that twinkle with eagerness fluttering shut when he leans in for a much awaited kiss. how sweet, he feels a little more alive than before. he can smell it, even taste it— the peach margarita you started sipping on before the band’s first set. concocted by jun, he presumes. he pulls away with a small smile, licking his lips for the traces of you that clung to him.

out of the blue, you burst into a fit of giggles, weak knees buckling as your weight crashes on him.

“i missed you!”

“babe, are you seriously drunk?” he chuckles, holding you with a secure grip around your torso.

“maaaybe tipsy…? i was pretending not to be.” you stand on your tip-toes to nuzzle your face against his neck, mumbling sheepishly. “only trust you.”

—

“i should’ve accepted the umbrella.” you grunt childishly, body going limp on jungkook’s back, except for the arm holding up the umbrella that shields the both of you from the pouring rain.

“yah!” he scolds you, clearly not pleased with the words that just came from your mouth. “what does that mean?”

“i’m embarrassed! they’re probably feeling bad for you.”

the last sentence comes out as a whisper, pertaining to the side glances you’ve been attracting from strangers as you make your way to your boyfriend’s car.

unfortunately, he had to park somewhere far because the restobar’s parking lot was already full.

you jokingly complained about staining your white boots with dirt and mud, but you instantly regretted it when he bent down, signalling you to ride on his back without an ounce of hesitation.

“our shoulders always get wet when we share an umbrella,” he said. “if i carry you, wouldn’t it be better?”

“embarrassing? some would even say romantic!”

something peculiar happens then— when your lips ghost over his left cheek, planting an affectionate kiss there that lasts for seconds. you pull away with a smacking sound, giggly and bubbly, might be his favorite version of you.

“i love you,” you hum, grasping the umbrella upright before it could tip over.

he doesn’t know if you did it on purpose or not, kissing him precisely where his scar is, but his heart jumps in his chest when he feels it begin to throb.

as if the wound from his childhood has come alive. as if, once again, he is bleeding as he glares at his older brother, and he still wants to play games on the computer oblivious to the fact that it would leave a permanent scar, a brand new landmark on his body.

you mistake his silence for something else.

you frown, warm breath tickling his neck as you quietly ask. “are you still mad at me?”

he sighs, vision landing on the ground as his walking pace slows down. “no? i was wrong. i shouldn’t have questioned your decision in the first place… why would i be mad?”

you started playing the drums for your friend’s band two months ago, just as soon as he left for tour. you volunteered after witnessing how distraught they were when their drummer vanished without a trace. he learned that it used to be a hobby of yours from childhood until early teenage years, playing the drums, but it was robbed from you when your father took his instruments with him when he abandoned your home for another.

he was pleasantly surprised when he learned about it, recounted all the times your hands and fingers were drumming on any sort of surface and his head naturally bopped to the beat, but then again, you never brought it up.

isn’t ____ so cool? he would proudly say when he flaunts you to his friends, even the protocol team, who have never seen him so happy.

three times a week, from nine in the evening until midnight, your phone was propped up on an empty table infront of the stage, and him, on the other side of the globe, excitedly watched you from backstage while he was getting ready for their own show. some other times, he was in his hotel room, or the private jet. his patience has been tested by crappy wifi, nosy and noisy people, and his earphones that stopped working while you looked insanely attractive grooving to ‘why’d you only call me when you’re high?’ as you effortlessly played the drums. he showered you with compliments as you did for him. you’re working hard so he must do the same.

he arrived home from tour the other day, spent the rest of its hours sleeping. yesterday, he waited for you at school and then at work like a lost puppy, slept on your bed (if he’s being honest, the two of you didn’t do much sleeping) then woke up at 9am for work.

and he tried his best, he really did, to get out of the company early enough to catch you playing a song or two. after all, it was your last day at the job.

much as you enjoyed reconnecting with an old flame— loved the overflowing tips that came from those who were amazed by your talent (well, there were also those who were just trying to get into your pants), the moment that the old drummer got down on his knees begging to be taken back by his best friends, just like how you became a part of the band, you voluntarily stepped down.

jungkook didn’t agree with this decision. he didn’t understand why you’d sacrifice something that makes you happy for a person who fucked up and wasted what they had. you went back and forth over it on the phone until you cried, told him that it wasn’t easy for you, and he couldn’t hold you in his arms or kiss your face. he could only apologize, and it even felt insincere doing it through a screen.

maybe he’s only relieved that you no longer need to be around a man an entire decade older than he is, who is obviously interested in you and serves you alcohol drinks. no, that doesn’t sit right with him. he needs jun, or whatever the fuck his true name is, to stay very far away from his baby.

“i’m just sad that i never got to watch you perform in person.”

you rest your cheek on his shoulder, heavy eyelids slowly blinking as the headlights of a black van blindsides you.

what the fuck. too bright.

“me too…”

—

“i’m bored,” you release a dramatic sigh, stealing a glimpse of jungkook at the driver’s seat, just to see if you caught his attention like you intended.

his eyes are trained on the dashboard, however, focused on the navigation guide displayed on his phone. he isn’t very familiar with this part of the city. it took him more than an hour to arrive at the address you sent him, including the time he spent in the middle of traffic.

“forty-eight minutes, then we can do whatever you want.”

“whatever i want?”

he slows down the car, briefly turning his head to find you expectantly looking at him with wide, hopeful eyes.

“of course,” he laughs, taking one hand off the wheel to squish your cheeks together. “just tell me what it is, baby.”

he doesn’t catch the sad look that flashes across your face after you lose his touch.

“then i’ll tell you when i figure out what i want,” you say quietly.

“i thought you already had something in mind?”

“nope,” you answer with yet another sigh.

you choose to stare out the window in silence, body completely slumping into your seat in defeat.

jungkook’s senses are sharp, or he likes to believe so. “are you okay?”

“i’m okay,”

“you sure?”

“hmm,” you hum curtly, and then you close your eyes, so he decides not to press further despite wanting to.

he meets a red traffic light not long after that. and so, he hurriedly grabs the black fleece blanket in the backseat. he envelopes you in it, crossing the distance between you to softly press his lips onto yours for a goodnight kiss. he feels you respond, albeit lazily, and he smirks cockily when you lift yourself up to chase him for one more, please— desperately, to get your fill of goodnight kisses from the many nights that you missed it.

the time seems to tick excruciatingly slow now that you’re quiet. a minute is multiplied by a hundred. the steady rhythm of your breathing keeps him sane throughout dark avenues and encounters with reckless drivers of the midnight scene.

he missed you. he missed you so much, and he knows that you’re tired from university, and tutoring high school students in english, and playing the drums for more than two hours… but he selfishly wishes that you’re awake right now so he can make up for the two months that you were apart.

be careful of what you wish for, they said.

jungkook should know better by now.

“i can’t sleep,” he hears you whisper in a dulcet tone that indirectly tells him you’re in need of some love… but he isn’t given the chance to act upon that request because you’re already all over what it is that you need.

he swallows thickly, glancing down at your hand that has somehow found its way to his inner thigh— zeroing in on your red nails, can feel them faintly grazing his skin.

you’re so pretty. everywhere.

even when naked and bare.

no, especially. it’s all he can think about.

he can draw you from memory.

“____,” he utters your name through gritted teeth, heart beginning to race a thousand miles per second in his chest.

the effect of your teasing touch is instantaneous, slowly inching closer and closer to where his growing erection is. his eyes remain focused on the road, but he fears that he’ll start thinking with his dick soon if you carry on with this act a few seconds longer.

“shit, not now, baby- please- not while i’m driving.”

your bottom lip is caught between your teeth, poorly concealing a self-satisfied smirk, and you pretend not to hear a single word from his plea.

a minx, that’s what you are, always causing trouble and blurring lines in his eyes.

“____, i’m not joking around. don’t make me mad-”

his warning is cut short by-

“fuck… fuck,” he curses, filter flying out the window once he feels you tracing the outline of his hard-on, the feather-light touch of your fingers smoothly gliding across the fabric of his sweatpants, and he completely loses it when your soft palm caresses his cock, so gentle that it feels almost innocent.

okay, so he couldn’t feel it because you weren’t skin-to-skin, but he knows that your hands are soft, can feel his imagination running wilder because he has memorized the way they feel on most parts of his body.

you’re so incredibly nasty and evil for this— squeezing him lightly, taking advantage of how sensitive he’s gotten, making him tremble as pleasure shoots up his spine. his breath stutters in his lungs and he unconsciously pushes harder on the gas.

and although it means fighting every fiber of his being that painfully yearns for more, he seizes your wrist in an iron grip, placing your hand over the gearstick while his sits heavy on top of yours.

“____! behave! you’re going to get us killed!”

he watches you jut out your bottom lip through the rearview mirror, eyes hazy with lust staring down at where your hand used to be, and then his handsome face. he is evidently flushed, honey skin dusted with a rosy pink. all the way to the tips of his ears, down to his neck.

while he’s driving? really?

doesn’t this only happen in wet dreams?

you are not real.

“then pull over,” you plead. “please?”

he releases a shaky breath. you’re always so needy with alcohol in your system, drove him into total insanity while he couldn’t be here to give you what you wanted.

“no, you need to learn how to be patient… told you we can do whatever you want when we get home, right?”

wrong move.

the silence returns, and just when he thought that you went back to your journey to slumber, the sound of your sniffles fill the car.

jungkook’s heart breaks into a million pieces.

also, he wants to slam his head against the steering wheel.

you make it so fucking hard to resist you; you always get what you want. it becomes much harder when he is the subject of your desire and he loves being loved.

“haven’t i been patient enough…? i missed you so much.”

“and i missed you too!” he brings your intertwined hands to his lips, pressing them on your skin. “fuck, you have no idea how much… please, don’t cry.”

“then pull over,” you stubbornly insist, and he is so close to driving this car into a lamp post. “fuck me at the backseat.”

“can’t,” he mumbles, sounding almost pained, and he is. he wants you so bad, it hurts. “we’re going to have to do it without protection.”

“what do you mean?” you exclaim.

you rip your hand away from his, not wasting time in unlocking the glove compartment, and a sound of sheer disappointment escapes from your mouth as you collapse back on your seat.

“jungkook, i hate you!”

“well right now i hate myself too!” he cries out in frustration. “i didn’t have the time to buy more, okay?”

“and there’s not one in your wallet?”

“babe, are you serious?!”

“what?!”

somehow, his hands still expertly swivels the steering wheel as the car meets a curve.

but he feels dizzy. the ghost of your touch is still there, a promise of carnal pleasure unfulfilled.

“stop the car,” you say out of the blue, rather calmly, and that terrifies the shit out of him.

he swallows the lump in his throat, eyes switching between you and the road in panic. “huh?”

“i said stop the car, i’m stepping out.”

“babe, come on,” he moans, ruined and tormented. he reaches for your hand but you scoot further away from him, and he ignores the way his heart drops to his stomach as he kneads your exposed thigh instead. “please, don’t be like this. i just got home.”

“jungkook! if you don’t let me get off this car right now, i swear!”

the urgency embedded in your threatening voice leaves your boyfriend with no choice but to pull over to the side of the street as soon as he gets the chance.

he carries on to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“baby, stop being stu-”

he tries to reach for you, but he is rudely ignored as you hop off the car and slam the door shut on his face.

“…bborn…”

he blinks.

he inhales. he exhales.

and then he buries his face in his hands to scream… as quietly as possible.

“what the fuck was in that margarita?!”

—

jungkook steps out of the car worried sick about you. now wearing a black bucket hat, his head whips in different directions in search for the familiar shape of your body, your hair, your shirt that is his, anything.

his arm rests on top of the car door, the other on the roof, fingers drumming on it anxiously as he chews on his bottom lip.

there are mostly restaurants here, it seems. some are already closed, some are still lights on. not far away, he hears a karaoke place bursting with music and laughter. he looks up and he finds that the night sky remains barren of stars; there’s no guidance from the heavens that will lead him to you.

except for the sound of your sweet voice calling out his name.

he turns around, and he knows it’s going to sound extremely silly, but damn, you make his life feel like a movie— because you’re jogging towards him, and the universe begins moving in slow motion. perhaps it is to prevent him from falling on his knees in relief, because he genuinely thought that you already went home on your own like the stubborn brat that you are.

“____, where did you go?! you can’t just run off like that! seriously, that was not nice!”

“i forgot my wallet!” you squeal as you halt infront of him, slapping your forehead as a way to scold yourself. “i found a hotteok cart!”

his anger quickly dissipitates. he scans your face, mouth agape in bewilderment.

you, screaming at him to stop the car because there was a sighting of your favorite snack? makes sense.

he dishes out the wallet from his pocket. “wha- i thought you… you didn’t have money?”

you shake your head to answer his question.

“then how are you already eating?”

you take another bite from the hot hotteok you’re holding in a paper cup, and then you shrug.

“i was already eating when i realized it,” you point at yourself, a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “so he let me run back here. does it look like this face would steal?”

“you’re impossible!” he bursts out laughing, the unique sound of his joy harmonizing with the mundane noises of the city.

he is thoroughly amused and in awe of your undeniable charm never failing to work its magic. if you just gave it a shot, you might be even better at him at his job.

you’re pliant as he captures your wrist, tugging you away with him so he can lock the car.

“i bought three, by the way.” you note as the two of you start walking, with you clinging to his side. “the last three then mister can go home.”

you put the hotteok near his mouth, and he pauses to take a big bite. “have you even had dinner?”

“just the four margaritas- they were yummy! or was it five?”

he clicks his tongue in disappointment, but he doesn’t get to say anything more about it because you’ve reached the hotteok cart, and he’s already handing the vendor the money.

“thank you!” he bows his head politely as he accepts the remaining two you mentioned earlier, handing them over to you.

“no, this is yours.” you speak with tenderness, giving back one of the cups to him. “then we’ll split the third one. it’s really good!”

the vendor secretly watches the interaction with a fond smile as he packs up to finally, finally end his long day working at the busy streets of seoul.

—

you’re sat together on the hood of jungkook’s car as you share a midnight snack. with caring hands, you rip the hotteok apart in perfect halves, offering the other to your lover. he accepts it in between his teeth.

“do you want drums as your christmas gift?”

“love,” you search for the words to say as you chew the food in your mouth. “i can barely fit in my apartment. where am i going to put a drum set…? not to mention that i can’t even cry without my neighbor hearing it.”

his shoulders drop in dejection, and you rub your boyfriend’s back in an attempt to comfort him.

“you must really want to see me play, don’t you?”

“i’m dying to,” he says in pure jungkook fashion, tone dramatic and thick with an accent that is entirely his. “i can’t believe there were regulars who saw you every night, while i, your boyfriend, didn’t even see you once…! even that fucking bartender… this- this can’t be right! do you think this makes sense? no, right?”

“aw, my baby,” you coo at him, jutting out your bottom lip as you tenderly cup his face.

“i don’t trust him, by the way,” he scoffs. “as much as possible, stay away from him when you visit, alright…? if i see him touching you one more time, i don’t know what i’ll end up doing to him.”

“i don’t like him either,” you giggle. “so that’s easy.”

he stares at your bloodshot eyes. damn it, you haven’t sobered up.

“____, i’m serious. he’s weird. i’m worried about you but i can’t always be here to protect you.”

you blink at him innocently. “i am too! serious!”

“you promise me?”

“i promise!”

he nods, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he gets lost in the sea of his own thoughts. “i should talk to your friends about this, too. is that okay?”

“if that will ease your mind,” you half-smile, heart fluttering in your chest because you feel so cherished.

comfortable silence follows suit.

the hotteok is still soft and warm and sweet. if your love had to be delivered to his doorstep, it would in the form of your favorite food.

he sighs to gain more of your sympathy, basking in the attention he’s receiving from you. he missed this. he missed you. he sounds like a broken record, but it’s true.

“come ooon, don’t be sad! i’ll make it up to you! but it’s a surprise!”

“surprise?” he eyes you with suspicion. “what surprise?”

“just trust me, alright?”

you poke his cheek where his dimples are, and you witness them pop out as he copies your contagious smile.

“can i make a guess?”

“nope!”

you fit the remaining piece of your hotteok in your mouth, jumping off the hood of the car. you stand before him as you wipe your hands clean with a small paper napkin.

“don’t you dare. if you guess it right then my plans will be ruined!”

—

you’re back on the passenger seat to travel the remaining twenty-seven minutes to your apartment.

jungkook melts into the tenderness of your touch as he drives. you’re tracing the toned muscles of his arms; stroking his hair, his face, and the smell of the sticky brown sugar from the hotteok still lingers on your skin.

“when are you going to start getting tattoos?” you wonder out loud as he intertwines your fingers together on top of his thigh. “i think you’d look so pretty.”

“i’m planning on it.”

his heart skips a beat at the thought of you remembering that he wants his skin artfully inked as you absentmindedly distracted yourself with it.

he licks his lips, smiling as he looks over at you. “you really think so? pretty?”

“hm, hot, too,” you stick your tongue out playfully, and he snorts out a laugh. “but as long as you’re happy, then nothing else matters.”

“of course- wait, yah! you still need to eat dinner.” he reminds you once he recognizes the path you’re taking.

a grocery store is not more than a kilometer away, if his memory serves him right.

“what do you want? i don’t mind cooking.”

“for you to fuck me, that’s what i want. you won’t mind that, too?”

oh my fucking god.

he wishes you were passed out drunk instead so he wouldn’t have to suffer this battle between self-control and his insatiable appetite for you.

“baby, aren’t you still sore from this morning?”

“a little,” he notices you squeezing your thighs together from his peripheral, and along with it, the bruises on your knees from when you worshipped his body last night. “but i want you.”

your giggles in reaction to him frustratedly running his fingers through his hair seems to only fuel the dirty thoughts in his head. he uncomfortably shifts in his seat to adjust himself.

“can you just bring it up when we get near your house? you’re killing me over here!”

“but why? i’m having fun.” you bring your tangled hands over to your side, peppering the back of his hand with innocent kisses. “i love you. you’re so cute.”

“are you… are you seriously calling me cute after what you just asked me to fuck you?”

his disbelief is challenged by your amusement.

“why not? being one dimensional? boring. being different things all at once? sexy.”

jungkook doesn’t need to see you play the drums to know that you are the only one capable of making his heart beat like this. to feel it pounding, it turns out there’s another way besides performing, he can just be alone with you. a different type of addictive exhilaration. he isn’t at the top of the world; he free falls as it revolves around you.

you always know the right words to say, because right now, he is preening. he’s wearing a big smile, the kind that looks like he’s laughing, but he’s not— almost. the kind that reaches his eyes, shapes them into little crescent moons.

how did he get so lucky?

rehearsals in the morning be damned, he will be fucking you good all night.

you make a noise of confusion when the car swerves into the trees at the side of the road.

“what are we doing here?”

jungkook only spares you a glance. “get in the backseat, baby.”

—

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—

#jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jungkook drabble #jungkook one shot #jungkook scenario #jungkook imagine #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts imagine #bts fanfic

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2kmps · 7 months

Text

A Simple Nocturne

alucard|adrian tepès x reader | 3.3k

synopsis; following the defeat of his father by his hand, you notice alucard becomes withdrawn amid an uncertain future. you take his hand, unable to bear the suffering he endures in silence.

story warnings; mentions of patricide, alucard in mourning, erotic content that isn't really explicit, written in 2018, sotn-coded alucard mostly, mdni!

At his insistence, he was often in your company for a few sparse moments while the moon was at its highest beyond the spires of the castle and coverture by clouds. You couldn’t say you were a fool to the layout of the castle any longer, and even once telling him so, he still offered to walk with you through the dismal corridors, guided by the dull flicker of candlelight from the candelabra in his grasp.

These were the moments with him that you cherished the most, the only ones he seemed willful to indulge you in. Following the defeat of Dracula by his own hand, you thought his eyes had grown colder than any hellish winter, reflecting the nebulous traces of his thoughts. He stood within your grasp these times almost always, and yet he was so far away from you.

Even as he walked alongside you, the halls comfortless and abysmal aside from the synchronic tap of your footfalls across cold stone that reverberated endlessly off the walls and carried on as though a voice growing more distant, you felt alone.

You could feel his presence beside you, his languid strides easy enough to keep in pace with, the tail of his coat nearly dragged the floor and wound his legs, and if you were to sidle just slightly nearer, you would be touching him.

He seemed a ghost; residual and purposeless, a man with nothing else he could possibly lose and yet for some reason even unknown to him, he continued living on.

The sweet glow emanating from candlelight cast across his face and showed to you a haunted man, an otherworldly beauty that captured the pallor and translucency in his skin, the glimmer of hair like tinsel, and a gaze with faint shine that swayed towards you.

You quickly looked away towards the worn tapestries adorning the walls and the many doors mirroring one another as you passed. However, after a moment, the discomforting echoes in the hall tapered into nothing as you both stopped before one door in particular.

“I feel like it looks different every night.” You said, fingertips curling away from the brass handle wrapped in the night chill. “I sort of feel like switching up rooms again. That alright with you?”

“You’re free to do as you wish, that has not changed.” Alucard gave his brisk reply. Perhaps if this had been your first encounter with him, you would had thought him rude, but there was no ill-intent behind his words.

And by the dimming glow from the flames, you could feel his gaze waver at the slightest, lips twitching at the corners as though trying to search for something more to say. You wondered if he thought he presented an unperturbed, impenetrable, always stoic demeanor that you couldn’t see through. It was likely of little comfort to him when your eyes pierced straight through him; those feelings, those things he perceived as his own weaknesses wore on his sleeve and made your heart tremble as well.

“Tomorrow, then.” He spoke at last, taking one step away for you as he turned. There was a reluctance in his movements, a lethargy as though realizing once he left, he would be alone again.

You couldn’t bear his suffering any longer.

“Adrian, enough of this.” You caught his wrist, jarring him to a halt while his eyes shone in surprise. “Enough. Please just talk to me about how you’re feeling. Whatever you’re going through. You’re not well, you haven’t been in sometime.”

The walls were crashing down around him, the facade was quick to melt away as his face began to twist as though anguished. “I’ve nothing left to say that’s worth taking your time.”

“That doesn’t matter to me, you damn fool.” You searched for his fingers, twining them together as the large door gave a suffering wail. Your first steps backwards into the room were met with resistance, the full length of his arm outstretched, lingering at your doorway with the candelabra leveled at his waist. “You can come inside. Please, just talk to me. If not for yourself, then just don’t let me be alone.”

And so, led by the warmth of your hand, he ventured in the darkness of your room. The brass handle gave a rattle as he closed the door behind him, freeing his fingers from your own to set the candelabra aside on the first table that caught his eye. Despite the black air that encompassed you, you navigated the room easily enough, feeling for the candles and dainty lanterns you kept at your bedside for convenience.

You turned your head towards the sound of scuffing fabric, managing just then to coax a lantern alight, basking the spacious room warm, dancing hues that didn’t quite reach your doorway. It pleased you, however, when Alucard emerged from that nothingness without his coat, shadows seemingly dissolving from his shoulders as he fiddled with the cuffs of his shirt.

The bed barely emitted a creak as you flopped atop of it, legs crossed under you, giving the spot before you a eager pat. “Sit right here and tell me what’s on your mind. I’m all ears.”

His fingers froze at the buttons on his sleeves, eyes swimming across the room as though cautious there might be others listening, observing you both. That feeling stayed with him even once he joined you on the bed, his presence little more than a slight dip in the mattress.

You scooted closer to him. “There’s something I’ve been curious about, Adrian. With, you know, everything that has happened. Are we—Are you going to stay here indefinitely?”

“Even I cannot foretell the future.” He hunched forward, arms draped across his thighs. “What it is I should do against what I feel I should, I think of them often. My bloodline is cursed, what good to the world has come about it?”

He said this one other instance, though your memories of that day were vague, dreamlike even. You only recalled roaming Dracula’s castle with him, and then the next awakening in his arms to a brilliant sunrise and a sprawling, glittering sea. That beauty was marred by his overwhelming grief, though his tears only glistened at the corners of his eyes, never falling.

“I don’t think you’re cursed, Adrian.” You said, reaching forward to give light strokes his arm. Through the thin fabric, you felt his muscles tense against your touch, his eyes fixated on yours. “You’re a good man who wants peace, who sacrificed so much, who loves his family more than anything else… even after everything.”

Those words seemed to soften him as his shoulders lowered, tresses of gold falling across his chest. The shadows deepened in the creases of his brow, and even though it pained him for you to see his composure chip away, he could not will his gaze away from you. Not now, and not when the tears seared his eyes, clouding his vision until the your face was no longer discernible to him.

“Oh, Adrian.” You found your voice cracking, his despair so palpable that it made your bones ache. It wasn’t any thought in your mind to wrap your arms around him, nestling your face against his chest to smother your own tears. “None of this was your fault. Not what happened to your mother, nor your father. This isn’t something you have to deal with on your own.”

You had never felt so much rigidity in his body more than you did in that moment. Clearly, your response was unexpected, your touch even less so. Despite this, he let his vulnerability show, body trembling as you smoothed your hands across his back.

His fragility was heartbreaking, and thought it was not so, he felt so much smaller than yourself.

“I... I am tormented by it every night. By my mother’s death, seeing it again.” He whispered shakily, taking a moment to ease his breaths. “And by taking my father’s life by my own hand. I remember so vividly still, at the end before his death, he had a moment of clarity. He wanted forgiveness that I could not be the one to grant.”

“Adrian—”

When you felt his arms surround you, holding you flush to him as his chin rested atop your shoulder, you thought the air had been knocked from your lungs. How long had it been since he held you like this?

“Is this the fate I’m meant to endure? The knowledge that I was useless to save my mother, and my father was slain by my hand? Isn’t a fate where I seal myself away from the world something to rejoice?”

You couldn’t listen to this anymore.

“Adrian, my love, that’s not the answer!” you snapped, that outburst startling him long enough for you to slip your arms between your bodies to take the sides of his face in your hands. “Please, don’t talk about yourself like that. You’re still grieving, and there’s nothing wrong with that. But, you need to accept that you’ve always done everything you could.”

His arms loosened from your waist, yet he still would not let you go. A smile tilted the corners of your lips as you traced your thumbs under his eyes, swiping away his tears. You were doubtless that you could offer him little comfort in alleviating all of his agony.

The only one who could bring that war in his heart to a standstill was himself, you could only do this and hold his hand when he needed it.

Aside from the drum of your heartbeat in ears, the room was void of noise. You indulged in that silence, mesmerized by the softness of his skin that still held traces of warmth, and glisten in his eye that you wanted to believe stemmed from something other than tears.

He was entranced just as much by you, leaning his face more to one side against your palm, though you noticed the way his eyes drifted down your face.

It was an invitation that you eagerly took.

The feeling of his lips against yours was something you had craved for a time, foreign for you both, though his reaction was much more genuine. He was unsure, startled even that you had decided to kiss him. His face remained still in your hands as you moved your lips to the corner of his mouth, feathering upwards towards his cheeks, to the tip of his nose, and then once again to the origin.

This time he held no reservations to your affection, one of his hands carefully caressed your nape while your arms rose to hook around his neck. His lips were as soft as you had imagined they were while fervor grew from the caress, rousing something in you that you had been forced to the furthest parts of your mind for a while.

You felt his hand sweep lower to your back, gliding between your shoulder blades until he held you at your waist and eased you down on the mattress. His loose curls were much like spun gold, tempting you to twist them like tight ringlets around your fingers as his hair spilled over his shoulders like silk.

It wasn’t until you felt the tickle of the crisp night air against your flesh that you realized his easy work on your blouse, unfastening the last of the buttons before reaching past the fabric to feel your skin. You were growing unfathomably hot just by this, keenly aware your chest burned where he touched you, and it crept higher and higher as his hands did.

“Mmmn, this isn’t how I want it to go, Adrian.” You managed between kisses, tilting your face away where he then found fascination in your neck. His warm breath fanning across your flesh, trailing the length of your neck and behind your ear was rewarded with a quivering, longing sigh. “Adrian—”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“Yeah, I do.” You murmured, luring his face over yours again where you yanked him by the shirt into yet another ardent kiss. Without releasing his shirt, you ventured lower to fumble through undoing the buttons and peeled the thin fabric from his body.

Even though he was a lean man, there was still definition in his fame, muscle in his arms and chest. You memorized the divots and curves in his skin with your fingertips, unlikely to forget how he twitched when you touched him and his trembling breaths.

His pants and undergarments came off much faster, a reflection of your ardor and perhaps even his own as he swayed against you to slide them off his hips, cock hard against your thigh. The last of your garments was shucked from your body to join the heap on the floor, prompting you push yourself on your elbows as you kissed beneath his jaw.

“Lie on your back, Adrian.” You smiled against him, running your hands across his chest as persuasion. “Tonight is for you. I want you to know how much I love you.”

“As you wish.”

There was a flicker in his eye, a liveliness and searing want. His hands seized your own, pulling you up to straddle his waist when he laid back on the bed. There he explored more of you, stroking circles on your thighs and hips, eyes traveling across your body in a way you expected someone would look at exquisite art. “You are divine. This moment is ours, though I still do not understand what I have done to earn your love.”

“I don’t think any of us really do. We just love authentically and truly.” You answered, casting your eyes low to his erection and rubbed yourself against him. “I love you because you’re a good, kind man, even if you don’t want to see it.”

His breath snagged in his throat as you wrapped your hand around him, stroking his length and circling your palm around the head. You felt his hips lift under your, yet continued with fluid, rhythmic pumps. “I love you because you always try your best, you always do what you can with whatever circumstances are given to you.”

Even when in the clutches of pleasure, he was absolutely beautiful. His teeth caught the dim light when his mouth fell ajar, and his hair was a luscious bed of curls around him. You found it a bit humorous that you could elicit such a reaction from him, being what he was. But, you always believed him to more human than vampire.

It was after giving his cock a few harder strokes that he gripped your wrists, halting you. “Enough of this. I want to feel you, give yourself to me.”

You held no qualms to what he wanted.

Convinced by your nod, he released your wrists to grip at your thighs instead, massaging the back of them and then your ass when you rose to your knees to guide him inside you. His expression twisted deliciously the lower you went on his shaft, his fingers pushed deep divots into your skin when you acclimated to his girth and began rocking on him.

He didn’t let you go, not once.

Hot air hissed through your nostrils, lips taut and brow furrowing in your concentration to angle him just right as you rolled forward and then back. More than your own pleasure, you were careful to watch for his; the subtle twitch of his lips, the tension between his eyes, and the unyielding stare he fixed you with.

This moment was solely for him, yet you could say you were surprised when he began stroking your sides, raising his hips in unison with your thrusts, sending quakes of pleasure racing through your limbs and core.

There was a new glimmer in his eyes now, a coddled flicker that had grown in such enormity that even you felt embarrassed to be on the receiving end of it. He helped you in your motions, lifting you high enough for the tip of his cock to just nestle in you, bucking his hips to plow deep inside, luring a rather harsh gush of air from your lips.

At that point, you loomed over him, fingers splayed across his chest to keep yourself from completely collapsing on him. Your breaths quivered as you touched your lips against him, setting is flesh ablaze as your pants left hot, moist trails on him that then caressed his ear.

“There’s so much more I want to experience with you, Adrian. This—" you stifled a moan, body jarring as you rammed back down onto him, striking a spot in your that made your toes curl inward and abdomen clench tighter and tighter. “This—this is nothing.”

A sting of cold air touched your sides as you threaded your fingers with his, pinning the back of his hands on the bed next to his head. His knuckles bled of color as he clenched your hand tighter, pants seeming nothing more than dainty puffs of air, but your body knew otherwise.

Your sides were going to bruise, fully expecting the same of your hands. His thrusts were hard, belonging to a man creeping closer to his end. And yet, even midst all of this, you had never seen his eyes so dazzling, smoldering, encompassing you in such warmth and passion.

“A lifetime with you,” he fussed with your fingers, the back of his head digging deeper into the sheets as he writhed below you. “I—I could ask for nothing else. There is none other that I would rather have.”

As tender and genuine as his words were, you could only focus on the tension burying deeper in your gut, but spreading like a growing ember, a heat pulsing through your veins. Your walls tightened around him, the friction roused something of a harsher noise from the back of his throat, whereas you met your end.

You shook as you came, the strength in your thighs weakening and warmth in your body flourished, climbing to from your toes to your fingertips, and filled your vision with a glare of white. While the tension flowed from your body, your motions atop of him lethargic and fingers loosening from his, he thrust up into you a number of times; each reaching deeper than the last, fierce and quick.

The feeling was almost indescribable. He held your hands tightly, body halting and rigid beneath yours, cock throbbing against your walls and growing slick with cum that sent a shudder rattling down your spine. It was then that you noticed his chest relax when he released his breath, hips flattening against the mattress.

“Your love…” he rasped, tipping your balance as he lifted the back of your hand to his lips, fingers still tangled with his. “I will never understand what I have done to be worthy of it. And yet, I cannot find it in myself to refuse it.”

You couldn’t call the sensation pleasant as you removed him from your body, joining his side on the bed, and inviting the night air to dance across your skin. All but one lantern had dimmed in the room, his expression difficult to determine, though you didn’t think you would be wrong in your assumption.

“Truly, who knows why anyone falls in love. But, I’m sure of my feelings.” You burrowed your face against his neck, relishing his touch as it ghosted across your shoulder. “We’ll face tomorrow, the following day, and every day thereafter together.”

“I have no doubt of that.” There was a faint rumble of laughter in his throat. He coaxed your face higher with his fingers so as to easily reach your ear. “To begin this lifetime together, allow me to repay you the words that you’ve spoken to me so much already."

"I love you.”

divider;@/anlian-aishang

reposted from my deleted blog, cardeneiv

please interact and reblog if you enjoyed reading! 💜

#castlevania #alucard x reader #alucard x you #alucard x y/n #adrian tepes #adrian tepes x you #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes x y/n #adrian fahrenheit tepes #adrian fahrenheit tepes x you #adrian fahrenheit tepes x reader #castlevania nocturne #netflix castlevania #castlevania fanfiction #castlevania fanfic #castlevania imagine #symphony of the night

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dc-marvel-life · 7 months

Text

You Are My Family Now

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader

Summary: Natasha is dating someone that the team does not like and tries to get Natasha together with Bruce.

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: This is for @waltermis. I saw that you looking for a story like this, and I love the idea so much I made it. Lisichka - little fox, I found this online so I am not 100% sure if it means little fox.

Warnings: The team is mean

You are an ex-assassin/spy for hire who was awfully good at her job. Your biggest enemy was the Avengers, but they never were about to spot you. You caused many injuries and near-death experiences for them, so you were on their naughty list.

No one in the world was able to get close enough to catch you, well no one but Natasha Romanoff. You also have a soft spot for you. You could never pinpoint exactly why but you had the biggest crush on her. It was the way her body moved against you. It was always a dance between you too, but you always got away. You couldn’t tell if you were just that skilled or she let you go on purpose.

You thought that she liked the cat and mouse game that you both played just as much as you do. It was also the way she talked to you. No matter what the situation is or what you said, she always had a sassy comeback that made your heart skip a beat.

—

It all changed one night in Paris. You were working a job where you needed to take out a mob boss who was staying at a hotel nearby. You were just about to walk up and take him out when Natasha came out of nowhere and stopped you.

A fight ensued and you got badly injured. You couldn’t finish the mission with how bad the wound was. You needed to get to your safe house immediately and take care of the wound before you bleed out. You somehow managed to get to your safe house alive, but you weren’t alone. Natasha was able to follow you back.

“Looks like you got sloppy there Silver Fox,” Natasha says once she enters your safe house with a gun in hand. You smile at the way she says your code name. She says it with so much lust behind it. This time you couldn’t say anything smart back at her because you were bleeding to death.

Natasha looked at you and saw that you were in real pain. You are lying on the floor with your hand on the wound trying to put pressure on it but slowly losing it. Just like you, Natasha had a soft for you too. Natasha puts down her gun and treats your wound. Once she finishes patching you up, she puts you in the bed and finds some food and water for you.

“Don’t scare me like that again Fox” Natasha says handing you water.

“Wouldn’t plan on it. Then who would you track across the whole world to see” you say taking the water.

“By the way, my name is Y/N,” you say realizing that you never knew each other names. Just code names Black Widow and Silver Fox.

“My name is Natasha. It is nice to finally meet you” Natasha says with a small smile. You both stare at each other’s eyes then something clicks. You both lean in for a kiss that feels like it lasted for hours. That night you both made love in that safe house until the sun came up.

—

That became your guys' routine for a few years. You guys will find each other then find a hotel or safe house to make love all night and leave in the morning. During the years that you both have been hooking up with each other, you started to fall in love with Natasha. After you guys finished, you would talk about everything. She told you about the Red Room and how she lost her sister. You told her about your backstory and why you are an assassin/spy.

You wanted to do better for Natasha, so you slowly started to take fewer and fewer jobs until you were completely out. Natasha was able to track you down in Jamaica. Once she got there, you told her that you were about of the game and wanted to do right by her. Natasha was so happy to hear it and officially asked you to be her girlfriend.

You said yes and you guys spent a week in Jamaica. Natasha didn’t know that you planned for this whole week. It was the best time of your life.

A month later, Natasha told the team that you guys were together and they weren’t happy about it. You have caused so much damage to the team over the years and it can’t be fixed anytime soon.

You understood and asked for a chance. The team didn’t want to give you a chance, but Fury wanted to keep your talents so he let you on the team with pushback.

You were happy that you could actually do some good in the world and be near your girlfriend. After a few months of staying there, you and Natasha moved into the same room together. Everything was going great with you two.

—

Now you are on a solo mission while the team is at the compound having a chill night drinking, playing games, and watching movies.

Natasha is drinking with the rest of the team but she is waiting for you to be back. You told her tonight when you come back you are going to cook her a nice meal to celebrate each other. So Natasha is trying not to drink too much unlike her teammates who are drunk right now.

“You know Nat, you shouldn’t be dating Gold Fox,” Tony says slurring his words.

“It is Silver Fox and she has a name,” Natasha says defensively.

“Look what we are trying to say that she isn’t good for you. Why not date Bruce? He is a better fit for you” Wanda says to her best friend. Natasha rolls her eyes at the thought of it. She only wants to be with you. It was no secret that Bruce has a crush on Natasha and everyone is for it but you and Natasha.

“No, I am in a happy relationship” Natasha bites back at her team.

“How about you kiss to see? You may never know. Now kiss” Tony says and the whole team starts to chant ‘kiss’.

“Hell no!” Natasha says but now Bruce is drunk and has some confidence. He comes over to where Natasha is and pulls her into a kiss with the team cheering.

Then you hear a loud bang. The team turns around to see you standing there with bags of groceries. You drop the bags and leave the compound.

“Look at what you guys did” Natasha gets up to try and catch you but you are long gone. Natasha sighs and starts to pick up the bags that you dropped. Natasha let out a sigh because she was looking forward to dinner. You always made her the best food and she wanted a night alone with you. You've both been on missions back to back and needed it.

Natasha picks up the bags and sees a small box. She opens the box to see a beautiful engagement ring. It is the ring that Natasha has been describing you for months now.

“You guys are all dicks!” Natasha screams and takes off to the landing bay. She knew exactly where you were going. The safe house in Paris.

Natasha takes a small jet and goes to you. She gets to the safe house and sees you on the bed in a ball crying while holding a picture of you two on your first date.

“Lisichka” Natasha comes over to you and holds you tight. She wipes away your tears.

“Why would you do it” you say in a small voice.

“Lisichka, it didn’t happen that way. The whole team was drunk and wanted me to kiss Bruce. I said no and he came up and grabbed me. He kissed me, but I didn’t kiss him. These lips are only for you” Natasha kisses your cheek. You turn around so you are looking in her eyes to see that she is telling the truth, and she is.

Natasha likes to think that you can’t tell when she is lying but you also do.

“Now were you serious about this” Natasha holds up the box.

“Yes. I was supposed to ask you about a beautiful dinner and it be romantic” you say sadly.

“Well, the answer is yes. And this is just perfect for me” Natasha kisses you with all the passion that she has. You hold her close so she does go away.

“Let’s run away together,” Natasha says once she breaks the kiss.

“Baby, no,” you say and Natasha looks at you confused.

“As much as I would love to run away with you. The Avengers are your family. You even got Yelena back in your life. I don’t want to be the reason why you have to leave your family” you say holding her cheek.

“You know that you are my family now too right” Natasha gets the ring out of the box. You stop her and put the ring on her.

“That’s very true,” you admire her with the ring on.

“Fine, but I will make them like you,” Natasha says in all seriousness.

“I bet you will,” you say and kiss Natasha again. You guys spend the night making love to each other in the same place that started it all.

Masterlist

#marvel #marvel comics #marvel mcu #avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha x reader #natasha romanov #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanova #marvel fic #natalia romanova #natasha x y/n #natasha x you #black widow imagine #black widow x reader

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irregulardongyoung · 4 months

Text

Price’s Hot Spouse

Alex truly do look similar to Price.

Warning : dubcon, afab, unprotected sex, & implied cuckold.

Note : Part 2? +I EDITED IT! Sorry, i forgot what the nb word for Mr/Mrs while writing this😭

If anyone say that Alex is his son, i would’ve believe them. No question whatsoever.

But imagine this: reader is Price’s spouse who’s close with his colleagues and team. The TF members likes to come over, along with his trusted allies for a peaceful dinner at his house.

One night while the rest of the team were drinking away and sharing story, his spouse goes upstairs to rest for the night.

Since it’s already night time, you didn’t bother using the big light, only using the one on the nightstand. You were just finished showering and was about to slip on your night garment but felt a pair of hands hugging you from behind.

Based on the size of the hands and the similar body shape, you just assume it’s your husband and let him cope a feel.

“Don’t be too rough, love.” You warned him while holding back a moan from his hands that are massaging your breast.

Impatiently, he put on a blindfold over your eyes and you were a bit confused. John always says that he wants you to always look at him while making love. He said it turn him on when he see how hard you’re trying to keep your eyes on him with every thrust.

But at the same time, John is always the adventurous one, always suggesting new ways to spice up their love making. So, you figure it’s one of those nights.

You let him take the lead as he man handle you as he pleases. His move is a bit sloppy and clumsy, like he’s testing the water, but he is still gentle, something that your husband pride himself when it comes to you.

“Don’t tease me, John...” you groan impatiently. You felt him kissing you and stripping your towel in one harsh movement before putting your back on the mattress.

When your head meets the pillow, you hear rustling of clothes, meaning he is stripping down. Then his hand immediately latch onto your skin, as if he’ll die without skin contact.

You felt his cock twitching on your thigh with every noise that you let out. His fingers comfortably playing with your clit. Trying to open you up and prep you, but mostly because of his own needs.

After making you cum once with his fingers, he need to taste you. NEED IT. So he held your legs apart as he eat your pussy like a starve man. The sensitivity of just cumming and the warm feeling of his mouth just made you shudder in pleasure as you cum one more time, now on his mouth.

“Good girl.” He praised you as he lick your juice from his lips. His voice is different from your husband but you were too far gone to notice. You’re enjoying it, he can tell.

“‘M gonna take care of ya.” He murmur as he line his dick. Slowly he push his dick in and kissing your collarbone while waiting for your signal to move.

In your dazed mind, you do felt the difference of penis. For one, your husband’s dick is larger, fat, and veiny. Like an angry bull when it’s fully erect. But this man’s dick is leaning into large in length instead of width, although it’s still veiny.

“‘m wanna move...” he whined on your shoulder. Your thought doesn’t go very far since his dick keep twitching inside your walls. He can’t help it! It’s too warm, too comfortable, but also tight. He wanna feel more!

On instinct, you tap his shoulder twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means you’re ready.

It seems the man also knew this code and he start moving in and out of you cunt. Is he your husband then? You can’t think properly like this!

“Mmfh! S-slow down!” You moaned out. Instead of slowing down, he just goes even more feral. “Feels so good...! I’m sorry, i can’t slow down! I’ll make it up to you. I promise!” He stutter out his sentences as his move began going rapid but still on rhythm.

“Jo-“ His mouth catch yours, just as you were about to moan your husband’s name. His kiss is filled with needy lust and happiness. As if he’s been waiting for this for a long time.

You grab his arm and direct him to touch your clit since you want to cum too. And he immediately picks up on it as he begin teasing your clit while still moving his hips and kissing your lips.

His movement began going sloppy when he felt you clamping down on him. “F-fuck!” He moan into your mouth. “Wanna cum...” you whined.

He kiss your cheeks and lick the tears that escape the blindfold from your cheeks. “‘m gonna fill ya, yeah?” He mumbled.

You nods, waiting for the permission to release while your hands are on his shoulders, trying to find stability. Although he quickly reposition the two of you in a mating press, your hand are now on either side of your head as you held onto the sheets and legs are thrown onto his shoulders.

His movement goes bold but still sloppy before he squeezed your waist twice, a code that only your husband knows, that means to cum now.

He pour his seeds deep inside you at the same time as you cum all over his dick.

Both of you are sweating and out of breath but still keeping the position because he still want to feel you close. But he knows he need to lay you down, so he did with gentleness.

He pull out his dick and lay your legs on the mattress, giving it a squeeze of ‘well done’ before his hand went up to caress your still blindfolded face.

“I love you. God, i’ve been in love with you since the day Captain Price introduce his spouse.” His words made your heart skip a beat, and it’s not out of flattery but out of panic.

HE’S NOT YOUR HUSBAND???!!!

He took off the blindfold and kiss you lips quickly while you are still adjusting to the light. A few seconds passed by and you now can see the man in front of you.

You pushed him off of you as strong as you could, which is not a lot in the first place but even more after cumming three times. Regardless, he relented and moves away from your embrace, although not without a pout.

“ALEX?!” You could not believe that you just fucked your husband’s coworker!

“That’s a good show, love.” A familiar voice praise you. You glance to the side to find your husband smiling on the chair with his dick out and cum all over his hand.

“John?” You called for him. But your vision is immediately being violated by harsh light, as somone turn on the bedroom light.

After a few seconds, you regain your sight and saw John’s team and their allies in your marital bedroom. Their eyes are filled with lust and want. The buldge on their pants are noticeable but they seems to be more interested in you.

“John? What’s going on?”

“I’m sorry, love. Should’ve told you beforehand, but the boys agreed on telling you themselves.” He apologized.

“Told me what?” You began asking nervously as the guys start smiling, even Simon from behind his mask.

“On sharing you, Mx. Price. We love you so much, we can’t handle not being yours anymore.” Alex kissed your open palm.

Your eyes widen and heart beating uncontrollably. You loves John, that’s for sure. But the others? You never even look at them more than just your husband’s coworkers.

“Don’t hurt your pretty head. We’re gonna make you love us, yeah?” Johnny approach the bed and start kissing your shoulder while caressing your arm.

John smile at you. “They’re good boys, love. Give ‘em a chance, will you? If you still doesn’t feel anything, we can just make it into strictly sexual or even stop it all together.” He assure you. “I just want my spouse to be worship like what they’re suppose to.”

“Can i be your second husband?” Phillip cheekily asked.

“That position is mine.” Alex retort.

“I’m fine with third.” Kyle interjected.

“Let’s start with boyfriends first.” Simon cut their chatters.

Alex, Johnny, Simon, Kyle, Phillip, Nikolai, Gary, Alejandro, Rudy, Sandman, and Frost. Knowing your husband, you might have to assume there’s more than them.

With a sigh, you smile at John and the boys.

“Anything for you, John.”

#darlingssaturn ‘s writing #alex keller smut #alex keller x reader #alex keller x you #john price x reader #captain price x reader #john price x you #call of duty x reader #price x reader #john price smut #cod mw x reader #cod x reader #cod smut #call of duty smut #afab reader

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blooming-violets · 14 days

Note

Hear me out :

Peter is jaded after Gwen, it’s before the events of NWH, and he’s slowly starting to fall in love with a woman he’s (literally) ran into at the library. She’s intellectual, kind, but is also a little jaded like Peter. Slowly, he has seen hope in her chestnut eyes. He is starting to see a future.

One night, Peter is listening to the police scanners and hears the code for an armed break-in, and it’s library girl’s apartment complex’s address.

He swallows, angry chills run up his spine as he hears her apartment number called out.

What does he do, Katie? How would he react?

I'm With You || TASM Peter Parker x fem!Reader

Trigger Warnings: stalking, sexual assault of a woman (being masturbated over by a man and touched w/o consent), nudity, crass language, gun usage, armed break-ins with the intent to harm a woman living alone, being tied and gagged against her will, violence from Peter/Spider-Man with a tiny bit of gore

It’s a damn cold night.

Peter tugged his jacket close around his body as he jogged the last few remaining steps into the public library. His overdue books were hidden inside the satchel at his side. He was about a month late in returning them and the library was almost closed. He wanted to get them in before he forgot. If he waited another day, he would never remember to bring them back.

As he rounded the corner, he tripped over someone’s outstretched legs. Being a man of his talents, he quickly corrected his fall to land effortlessly back on his feet with the elegance of a ballerina making a graceful leap.

Quizzical eyes stared up at him.

The woman on the floor was leaning with her back against the bookcase with an open book in her lap. She looked more annoyed at him for tripping over her instead of apologetic for having her legs across the aisle.

“Watch where you’re going,” she grumbled.

She lifted the book up to her face, blocking him back out.

Peter let out a breathy laugh of disbelief at the audacity of this bitch.

“Excuse me?” He said, agast.

She peeked her eyes over the top of the book to stare him down, “Dude, get lost. I’m busy. Not my fault you’re clumsy.”

“You tripped me!” He read the cover of the book she was reading. The Making of the Atomic Bomb by Richard Rhodes. “Doing a bit of light reading, I see. First it’s tripping innocent strangers and next it’s world domination? Is that it?”

He caught the smallest of smiles tug at her lips hidden behind the book.

A singular butterfly fluttered around inside his stomach at the sight. The feeling was enough to grab his attention. He quietly admired her. Legs still stretched out in front of her. Zero regard for the space she was taking up. He kind of liked it. She didn’t give a shit.

Peter turned and left her to her book, not wanting to bother her further, and headed to the front desk to deal with his late fees.

A week had passed and he was back in the library. He had no real purpose for being there today other than he liked the smell of the books. They made him feel relaxed. He liked to walk down the aisles and let his fingers graze across each bump of their spines. Every book he touched, filled with another story, another world, hundreds of lives under the tips of his fingers.

“Hey,” a feminine voice hissed from between a gap of books on the other side of the shelf.

Those eyes. He blinked back at them, peering between the shelves, trying to place where he remembered them from.

Then it hit him.

Atomic bomb girl.

“Can I borrow your height?” She whispered, keeping her voice low to be respectful to the people studying on the other side of the room. Unlike the last time he saw her, it was a Thursday afternoon and the library was full with students.

Peter slipped into the next aisle. She pointed to the book she wanted on the top shelf, just out of her reach. He plucked it down for her and turned it over in his hands. Relativity: The Special and the General Theory by Albert Einstein.

She eyed him with an intensity he wasn’t used to, like she was seeing straight through his skin and into his soul. Her eyes were captivating. He wanted to get lost in them.

“You’re the unbalanced, trippy guy, right?” She asked.

Peter smiled. Last night he stood on one foot on top of the Empire State Building spire just to admire the view. He was more balanced than she would ever know.

“You mean, am I the one you tripped? Yes.” He handed her over the book. “You’re into science, I see, atomic bomb girl?”

“I’m into learning. Whatever form that may come in.” She took the book and tucked it under her arm. “Thanks, trippy.”

“Peter,” he called after her as she spun around to walk away. “You can call me Peter!”

The library became his new home. He took every opportunity to attend in the hopes of bumping into her again. Some days were a success, other’s a failure, but he found himself wanting more. Every time she had a new book and every time he would find the same one to read after her. It wasn’t weird. He was just…trying to find quiet ways to relate to someone new.

So he told himself.

Peter had forgotten how to talk to women after Gwen. It had been so long since he even attempted to date anyone.

“Are you stalking me?” She asked one evening when she walked into the room to find him sitting on his laptop at one of the tables.

He glanced up and shrugged, “I was here first this time. Maybe you’re stalking me?”

She smiled and slid into the seat across from him, “I already have one stalker. I don’t need another. If you’re into me, you better just grow a pair, and ask me out now.”

Peter grinned, “I’m…wait…okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, sitting up straighter, completely letting the stalker comments fly over his head as he got flustered. “Would you like to go on a date with me? Right here. Right now. If you say ‘yes’ then it’s already starting.” He closed his laptop to give her his full attention.

Her eyes widened and she settled happily back into her chair, “Alright, Peter, was it? Nice to meet you. This is an interesting choice of restaurant for a first date. Not what I would have chosen for our dinner and a movie night. I didn’t see a kitchen when I walked in but I chose to trust you.”

“This is the finest establishment the borough has to offer,” he feigned a gasp. “Don’t you insult my choice of restaurant.”

He raised a finger in the air, pretending to call over an imaginary waiter, “Hello, yes, I will take your finest bottle of wine for the table to start. The more expensive, the better. And I will take a big, giant steak for myself and, perhaps, a nice, small salad for the lovely lady?” He shot her a cheeky wink as she let out a laugh.

“Fuck you,” she giggled.

Fucking him was exactly what she did.

They continued their imaginary dinner date in the library until it closed, the librarian kicking them out and shooing them out the front door. They walked into the chilly night air, stopping at a bodega at the street corner to grab a few snacks, as they made their way to her place.

He had slept with other women since Gwen passed but this time was different. There were feelings involved. Feelings that were still in their infancy. Ones that were just sparking to life. But they were there. He didn’t just want to fuck her and run. He wanted more than that. He wanted to stay. He wanted to grow and cultivate whatever path they were headed down. He wanted this to be something.

He was ready to try dating again.

She rolled over in the bed, naked and relaxed, staring up at the ceiling, “That was amazing. You really know how to use that tongue of yours for more than just being a dick. I’m impressed.”

Peter chuckled, “Oh, please, your tongue was nothing to scoff at either.”

It really had been one of the best blow jobs of his life.

He leaned on his side, propping his head up with his hand, and gazed happily down at her, “I want to take you on a real date. Saturday night. To an actual restaurant.”

She hesitated. A shadowed sadness darkened her eyes which she quickly pushed away, “Okay. I think I can do that.”

Peter frowned, “Something wrong?”

She shook her head, leaning over to kiss him as a distraction, “Nope. When you leave, can you leave through one of the side doors? Don’t walk out the front of the apartment.”

That was his cue to leave, apparently. He chewed anxiously against his bottom lip. Maybe he was misreading whatever he thought was going on between them. Maybe she wanted a quick fuck and nothing more. Come to think of it, when they entered here, she had snuck them in the back door, too, making him walk a few feet behind her like they weren’t together.

Maybe she was in a relationship and cheating on her partner with him?

“I’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?” She offered, casually urging him to get out of the bed. “Text me. I stuck my contact in your phone earlier.”

Peter left feeling more confused and unsure than when he entered her place.

He lifted his phone as he walked through the streets, searching the contracts until he found her under ❤️Atomic Bomb Girl❤️, and he smiled down at it. A heart. Maybe he was overthinking things. Maybe her front door was just broken. He always went straight to assuming the worst.

Someone slammed into his shoulder, jostling him out of his thoughts, and he glanced behind him. A large, buff man glared back at him. He looked to be in his late fifties and was balding. His massive arms bulged under his tight fitting, worn down leather jacket. He reached out to clamp a hand down around Peter’s upper arm.

Peter frowned and tried to jerk away, “Dude, it was an accident, chill.”

“Did you fuck that girl up there?” That man asked, nodding his head back to her apartment building. There was a crazed desperation in his voice. “I saw you following her home. Did she spread her legs for you and whore herself out? Did you get a good look at that tight, little pussy? Tell me, what did it look like? You take any pictures? I’ll pay you for them.”

Peter jerked his arm out of the man’s grasp, scowling in disgust, “What the fuck? I have no idea what you’re talking about. I wasn’t following anyone. I was meeting a friend who lives there. Fuck off.”

The man leaned forward and inhaled his scent causing Peter to jump back.

“I can smell her on you,” he growled as his eyes rolled back into his head. “That’s her perfume. I know because I bought it for her. You were fucking her.”

That was enough.

Peter shoved the older man off of him and jogged around the corner, waiting until he was out of sight before throwing himself up onto her building roof, peering over the edge to keep an eye on him.

He was just pacing back and forth outside the apartment door, mumbling to himself and fidgeting with something in his pocket.

“Freak,” Peter muttered under his breath.

He pulled up her contact and sent her a text: Some crazy old dude just ambushed me outside your place. Asked about you. Maybe don’t go outside tonight. I think he’s not right in the head.

He saw three bubbles appear as she started to text back but then they disappeared again, leaving him hanging.

Peter shrugged it off. He stayed and kept watch until the man finally wandered off down the street.

The night before he was supposed to take her out on a date, Peter was laid over his bed in his Spider suit sans mask. His police scanner let out more static of nothing as he waited for something, anything, to happen. He was bored but it was too cold to hang around on a rooftop somewhere. He would stay in the warmth of his bedroom unless something exciting came his way. They had been texting back and forth nonstop for the last few days and calling each other every night to talk for hours. He liked it when she sent him pictures of things she was doing around her house during the day. She was adorable and he looked forward to whenever his phone would buzz.

As if on cue, it vibrated across the mattress next to him.

He lifted it up in a gloved hand to read the text. A frown settled over his face as he read it.

Atomic Bomb Girl: ha ha ha i win u lose dontever touch wat is mine again

Right as he was attempting to decipher what she was talking about, taking note of how drastic of a change of text from her usual ones it was, the police scanner lit to life.

“All available units to Linden Boulevard, Oak Ridge Apartments, floor three. Multiple calls of gunshots heard and one reported casualty of a security guard. Suspect is wearing dark clothes, caucasian older male, considered armed and dangerous. Approach with caution.”

His senses exploded in a panicked wave of tingles. That was her place. Her floor. The image of that strange man assaulting him on the street after he left came back to hit him like a ton of bricks. Peter looked back at his phone as the pieces fell into place.

Oh, fuck.

Quiet, controlled anger replaced the panic. His heart rate steadied as a calm chill fell over him. His jaw locked in determination. He reached for his mask, tugging it over his stone cold, deadly expression, and he leaped out of his open window.

Peter Parker no longer fucked around when it came to protecting the one’s he cared about. This was personal.

He arrived at the scene in record speed, landing directly on top of a black S.W.A.T truck as it pulled up. He rapped a fist down on the hood to get their attention.

“Feel free to sit this one out, boys!” He called down to them. “Spidey’s got you covered! I’ll be in and out in minutes. No need to worry. Focus on crowd control. I’ve got a date with a balding fucker. If all goes well, it’ll end up with a quickie in the back of a cop car, as I ride his ass straight to prison.”

Peter threw himself up onto her building, scaling to the third floor and around to find her window. He knew exactly where he would find his perp. His masked face popped up in her bedroom window. It was empty and quiet. He slammed his fist through the glass, slipping his hand inside to find the lock, and shoved it open wide enough for him to shimmy through.

From inside, he could hear muffled cries. Whimpers. They were different from the whimpers he had been able to elicit out of her the other night but he knew them all the same.

Silent as a shadow, Peter crept around the corner. With her hands tied behind her back, her shirt ripped open so her bare chest was on display, and thrown against the couch was his girl. The gun man stood above her. A pistol was aimed directly at her forehead. From this angle, he couldn’t quite make out what was going on, but it looked as if the man was masturbating over her. Trails of mascara ran down her cheeks and she let out muffled cries against the heavy amounts of duct tape blocking her mouth as she struggled to break free.

His anger flared but he tried to push it down to manable levels. He had learned over the years that getting too angry made him sloppy. He needed to control it. Work with it. Tame it into something he could use as a weapon instead of making it a weakness.

Peter crawled up her wall and onto her ceiling, prowling towards the man. Up here, he had a clear view. His dick was out and he was frantically jerking it as fast as he could at her breasts. Her eyes widened in fear but then flashed with hope when caught sight of Spider-Man crawling across her ceiling.

He hadn’t even done anything yet and he already felt pride. She felt a sense of safety around him…even if she didn’t know it was him behind the mask. It made him cocky. Made him want to show off.

When he was directly behind him, he silently lowered himself upside on a web until his face was hung directly behind the assailant.

“I’m actually surprised you can even get it up,” he quipped, keeping his voice light, despite the rage eating at his stomach. “I didn’t know something that small could get hard.”

The man whipped around, his dick flopping against his leg, as he sputtered in shock. His pistol went off, firing aimless at the wall behind Peter’s head.

Peter held up his hands in mock surrender as he jumped to his feet, “Whoa, there, tinycock! Don’t go blowing your load so soon! You’ll miss out on all the fun.”

There was no doubt this was the same man he had met outside the other day. His eyes were crazed with an unhinged, desperation that reeked of a man off his meds. Peter made sure to keep the man’s eyes on himself, holding his attention, instead of on her.

“What’s a sad sap like you doing out of the psych ward? Were you a good boy and managed to snag yourself a day pass?” Peter clasped his hands together like he was excited for him, voice dripping with sarcasm. “And you used it to visit your daughter? Aww, that’s so sweet. Wait a minute.” He pretended to just now notice the man’s cock hanging out of his pants. It had gone soft and shrunken up like a scared little mouse. “Is she…not your daughter? But you’re so old. And she’s so young. I guess I don’t see any resemblance. She’s really pretty and you’ve got-” He motioned a hand around the man’s face. “-all that. Something tells me that there’s more going on here. Wanna tell your pal Spidey all about it?”

The man was silent, blinking in a shocked awe at the masked hero, before finally snapping out of it. Spider-Man always excelled at talking his bad guys into circles with his stream of conscious babbling. The gun raised towards his head but, quicker than the man could even process, Peter had latched his hand around the barrel and crushed it in his grasp with the same ease as one might squish a can of soda after they finished drinking.

“Whoopies,” he joked. “Looks like your gun broke! I wouldn’t pull that trigger if I were you. It’ll explode right back into your face there. On second thought, maybe give it a go! It might improve what you’re working with!”

The man faltered, looking confused and baffled down at his crushed gun. He clearly wasn’t the brightest bulb in the box. That was okay. Peter didn’t need him to be intelligent. He just needed him to be unarmed.

Which he now was.

Peter grabbed him by the scruff of the collar and turned him around to face her, “Do you see that girl there?” The man’s eyes glazed over as he stared down at her exposed breasts. Peter quickly threw a hand over the man’s eyes to block them, manhandling him around like he wasn’t twice his size. “I take that back. Don’t see that girl there. Use your imagination. Remember her face. You know that girl? Yeah, that girl. The one you tied up and assaulted? The one sitting in front of us, scared out of her mind and traumatized. I want you to remember her. Because if you ever, and I mean ever, even think about her again, if she ever crosses your pathetically shriveled up mind, if you ever say her fucking name, speak about her, think about, look in her direction, or ever come near her again…”

Peter dragged him over to the living room window where the slew of police were barricaded outside. He could hear the S.W.A.T crew moving up the stairwell now towards them and knew they only had a few more precious minutes of alone time. He shoved the man up to the window, raising his arm to force him to wave limply at all the cops down below.

His voice lowered to a dangerous growl. Any playful, sarcastic essence it once held in the presence of his girl disappeared so only the man could hear him.

“If you ever fucking touch her again,” he breathed. “I will toss you off of the Empire State Building and laugh through your entire fall down to your grizzly end.”

With his hand still clutching the man’s collar, he jerked him back and smashed his face directly through the glass window. He heard her muffled scream of shock behind him but he knew she would be alright.

A shard of glass stuck out of the man’s forehead, blood dripping down over his half closed eye, and Peter flicked it off down onto the street below.

“That was for trying to taunt me over text,” he whispered in the dazed man’s ear. “I don’t play nice with men like you. Want to see what it would feel like falling to your death? Here’s a little preview so you’ll be sure to know exactly what you’ll be in for if you ever even think about my woman again.”

Peter reeled back and tossed the man straight out of her window, head first, sending him down to the cops below. If he let his anger win, he would have never set a web straight after him, but she was watching and he didn’t want to be that person. She had gone through enough without having to see her Saturday night date murder a man in front of her.

The web latched onto his back at the final moments to break his fall. His legs may have crumpled against the ground…just a little bit…but he was alive. It was more than he deserved but the cops could deal with him now.

Peter spun around to look back at her. She was quietly sobbing, muffled by her gag, but held a look of relief on her face. She brought her teary eyes up to meet his, or where she thought they would under the mask, and gave him a short nod of thanks.

The S.W.A.T team was nearing her door. He could jump out the window and allow them to help her get free or…

She clung onto him, her head buried in his shoulder, as he soared them down the street and away from the commotion below. She cried softly. He wasn’t sure if it was from fear or the trauma or that fact that New York’s very own Spider-Man had just stolen her from her home but he kept a firm hold on her and kept whispering reassuring words in her ear.

Eventually, he landed them on top of his own apartment building, setting her down gently onto her bottom.

She gasped for breath, reaching up a hand to wipe the tears from her eyes, “I always…wondered…what it would be like…to fly…” Her chest was heaving between each gasping word. “Turns out, it’s terrifying. Still, thank you, Peter. For saving me.”

He shrugged, “It’s no problem. I was just doing my- hey, wait!”

She gave him a sneaky smile, still shivering and teary, but proud of herself for figuring it out.

“What?” She asked, innocently. “You think I wouldn’t know your voice? I’ve been listening to it for hours every night over the phone for the past few days.”

Peter reluctantly reached a hand up to pull off his mask, “You’re good.”

Despite having already guessed his secret identity, she still looked surprised to actually see him without the mask on. He squatted down in front of her to seem less intimidating.

“So that was your stalker, I take it?” He asked.

She nodded, giving a sad sigh, “The one and only. He’s a joy, isn’t he?”

He plopped onto his ass and crossed his legs, giving her a shrug, “I don’t think he’ll be bothering you again. I may have had some, ahem, choice words to encourage him to find new hobbies.”

She smiled again, blinking back her tears, “Thank you, Peter. Or, should I be calling you Spidey from now on?”

He laughed, rolling his eyes, “Look, this is a big deal! You better not go running your mouth or else I’ll have to have some choice words with you, too.”

He liked hearing the sound of her laugh, especially after everything she just went though, and he knew she would be okay.

“I have a date with Spider-Man tomorrow,” she giggled. “How exciting.”

Peter chuckled, “The excitement wears off quickly, trust me.”

She scooted closer to bring her mascara streaked face inches from his, “Somehow I doubt that.”

#andrew garfield #the amazing spiderman #tasm #peter parker #tasm peter #tasm peter parker #tasm x reader #tasm fic #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter fic #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter parker fic #spiderman #spiderman fic

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unreliablesnake · 1 year

Text

Dirty little secrets (Simon "Ghost" Riley x reader)

Summary: Ghost finds out you are fuck buddies with Graves, and now he wants a piece of you too.

Note: Mare is the code name of the reader.

Warnings: None, which is surprising considering the amount of smut I wrote lately. Afab!reader.

Graves pulled you into a big hug when you met again. By then you were a member of the 141, but he always said, "once a Shadow, always a Shadow." You had worked for him for about four years, by the end as the lead interrogator. Shadows had their own rules, being brutal was something Shadow Company usually appreciated. And you could be brutal when needed.

"Are they treating you right? You know you can come back to us anytime," he said with a smirk, his hands moving down to your lower back.

With a polite smile you pried him off of you, stepping back to build some distance. "Everything's great," you replied shortly.

He tilted his head to the side as he examined your face, probably trying to find out why you were so cold all of a sudden. You couldn't blame him, but you couldn't let the others know that back in the day the two of you were fuck buddies. You loved his arrogance and sense of humor, and his boyish charm was the cherry on top.

Soap appeared before Graves could say anything, greeting him like an old friend. The two engaged in a conversation, while behind you Ghost began to move around, his size making it impossible for him to stay undetected in this situation.

"Mare, come on, we have things to do," he told you as he passed by.

You nodded and followed him, out of the corner of your eye noticing how Graves wanted to object when he saw you leave. Once you were out of earshot, you turned to the lieutenant. "What exactly do we have to do?"

He let out a questioning hum, but immediately realized what you were asking him. "Oh, nothing. I just saw how uncomfortable you were when Graves became all touchy during that hug. Thought you might want to be away from him," he explained. "Is he like this with every female employee?"

"No," you replied immediately, maybe sounding a little offended by the idea.

"Just asking. I guess there's a story then." Letting out a long sigh, you nodded. Ghost looked down at you, studying your face with an intrigued expression. "You were together?" You remained silent and his eyes grew a little wider. "You're still together?"

For a moment you wondered how much you should tell him, after all you've been trying to keep it a secret from them. But strangely enough, he made you feel safe, probably because this man seemed to be good at keeping secrets. "We're not. We're just… friends with benefits," you admitted.

"He looks like the type of guy who's into that, but I didn't think you would like it," he noted as you walked into the hangar.

"We're having fun without the commitment of a relationship."

He watched as you hopped on a table, eyes glued to you the whole time. You could tell he was still thinking about the idea of you and Graves occasionally having sex, probably judging you for being this open-minded. But you didn't mind. He could think whatever he wanted.

"And how does it work now that you don't work together?" he suddenly asked, his arms now folded over his chest.

With a smile, you replied, "A few weeks ago he got on his plane and flew over to visit me."

"He took his private jet for a trip to have sex with you?" When you nodded, he whistled. "If I needed it that badly I'd just go to the nearest pub and pick up some bimbo," he said.

"You're into bimbos?"

Ghost shrugged. "They're easier to impress. Much less effort than impressing girls like you."

"Was it a compliment?" you asked with a playful smile.

"Maybe."

He was watching you, eyes intense and dark as he thought about something. You knew that while he was silent, his mind was probably insanely loud at the moment. "What?" you spoke up, getting bored of his silence.

"Nothing," he brushed you off.

"Come on, Ghost, I can see the wheels turning in your head."

Taking a deep breath, he clearly considered answering your question. Then he nodded, letting you know he was ready to give you a glimpse into his mind. "Why did you leave Shadow Company if you were having fun with Graves?"

"Price said some things that made me come here."

"Like what?"

You smiled and let out a small laugh. "I know you recommended me," you informed him.

Ghost gulped, but he quickly recovered and soon stepped between your legs, using his knee to push them wider apart so he could fit in there. You nervously looked around to see how many people were staring at you, but there was no one near. He put his hands on your knees, gently stroking your skin through your pants to get your attention.

"Why did you recommend me? Something tells me there was a personal reason," you told him, hoping he would finally say something.

"I think I saw you and Graves once." With a frown, you let out a questioning hum. "We were working together on something and I needed you for an interrogation. Someone told me you went to get something from the plane, and sure enough, you were there," he began before leaning really close to you so his deep voice dropped to a whisper, "being eaten out by someone."

That smug bastard was smiling, you could see that in his eyes. But you couldn't be mad when you were embarrassed, wishing you could crawl into a hole and die. "I don't even want to know what you think about me after that," you said.

But Ghost only tilted his head to the side as he studied your face. Your skin was burning under his gaze so you looked away, but he grabbed your jaw and made you look at him forcefully. "I've been thinking about what it would feel like to be the reason why you make those sounds," he finally told you.

You felt the heat building up in your core, every cell now yearning for more; his touch, his kiss, any kind of physical contact, really. Ever since you had joined the 141, you'd been on good terms with Ghost, the two of you often drinking together at night, and he even told you some personal details. You knew he had nightmares. You knew he had a traumatic childhood. You knew--

"Mare, are you in here?"

Graves. Fuck. You instinctively pushed Ghost away, who only moved because your actions took him by surprise. "Damn it," you muttered as you jumped off the table and gave him an almost worried look. "Nothing happened," you told him before walking away.

You met the commander halfway, flashing a nervous smile at him the moment you stopped in front of him. "Is everything okay?" he asked, putting a hand on your flushed cheek.

No. Nothing was okay. You wanted to find out what Ghost really wanted from you. Was it just sex? Did he get the courage to act on his dirty fantasies because he knew you were fuck buddies with Graves? There were too many questions for your liking.

"I'm good," you managed to say in the end. "Let's talk somewhere else. Do you have booze?" you asked with a laugh.

As you walked away, you turned back for a short moment, not missing the way Ghost stood there with his hands stuffed into his pockets, watching you leave without saying a word.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves x reader #ghost x reader #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare #mw2 #mare x ghost #ghost x mare

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lovelyjj · 7 months

Note

IDK if u take requests but i had a story: jj has always been flirty with her and she invites them to her cabin and she goes alone in one car with jj and shes tryna grab a drink and a bump on the road = her falling on his lap bc its a one long truck seat. and then she quickly has to get off after almost kissing bc her phone rings bc the others need the gate code. then while they are swimming they are just drinking and spinning in the water while the song “three little birds” plays in the background and they are close to kissing bc she is just wrapped around jj just goofing around. and ofc another distraction pope is coming with a drink. so they back off AGAIN and when they are finally alone in her room in the cabin BOOM THEY CAN FINALLY KISS AND HE HAS BEEN WAITING FOR IT

Cozy Cabin

jj maybank x reader

wc: 1.4k

a/n: sorry this kinda sucks

“Hey beautiful,” JJ announced.

JJ always flirts with you. You however brush it off as nothing because your sure he does this with every girl. You weren’t special.

“Hi J,” you responded.

“Your really pretty you know that?” JJ mused. He came up to you and started twirling your hair with his finger.

“Cut it out JJ,” you swatted his hand away.

“I have something to ask you. Well i have something to ask everyone. Let’s go inside,” you reasoned.

John B, Sarah, Kie and Pope were in the living room. You entered the room with JJ behind you.

“Hey guys! I was wondering if you wanted to go up to my cabin next weekend.”

“Really that sounds great!” John B responded.

“I’d love to,” Sarah commented.

“That sounds fun!” Kiara added.

“Great! Then it’s settled,” you announced.

—————

Next weekend came up quickly. You and JJ decided to drive up together. Your dad lent you his truck for the weekend.

JJ was driving. It was his turn as you guys split the drive in half by taking turns. The two of you were talking and laughing when you decided you wanted a drink.

You unbuckled your seatbelt and turned around in your seat. Just as you were grabbing a drink from the cooler the truck jerked you backwards.

You landed on JJ’s lap and your arms were slung around his neck.

JJ grabbed ahold of you by the waist when you fell on him.

“Sorry there was a bump in the road.” JJ apologized.

JJ came to a halt. He stopped the truck because he was at a red light. The bump was right before the light.

“It’s okay I’m fine Just fell on you.” You were looking right into JJs blue eyes. They were twinkling.

All of a sudden JJ reached his hand out to tuck some hair behind your ear. His hand stayed by your face as he rested his hand on your cheek. JJ used his thumb to stroke your skin.

JJ was looking at you like you were his whole world and he looked like he wanted to kiss you.

His lips were inches away from yours you could feel his breath on your face.

Just as JJ was leaning in to place his lips on yours, your phone began to ring.

You ducked your head down and went to reach for your phone. JJ muttered “damn it” but you didn’t hear him. You got off of JJ’s lap and pulled your phone out of the pocket, sitting back next to JJ.

You looked at the person calling you and saw that it was Sarah.

You swiped the green answer button.

“Hey Sarah what’s up.”

“Hey Y/N, John B needs the gate code.”

“Oh right sorry. It’s 607892.”

“When do you think you guys will be here?” Sarah questioned.

“We’re about 15 minutes away.”

“Ok see you soon.”

“Bye.”

“Um that was Sarah she needed the gate code.” You broke the silence.

“So they are there already,” JJ asked.

“Yeah I guess so,” you responded.

“But we should be there real soon” you added.

Eventually you and JJ arrived at your cabin. The rest of the pogues were there ready to greet you.

“Yay now we can pick rooms!” Kiara exclaimed.

“You’ll get your room obviously,” Sarah spoke to you.

“John B and I will get the room upstairs and Pope and Kiara can get the room downstairs.”

“What about JJ?” you voiced.

“The couch looks pretty comfortable,” JJ said from his place behind you.

“Great then it’s settled.” Sarah clapped her hands together.

“You guys wanna get ready to swim?” you asked.

Everyone liked the idea of going for a swim. You and the pogues got ready to swim. You put on your blue bikini and went to get some towels from the closet.

The pool area was nice and big. It was a nice secluded place and a good size pool.

Once everyone was outside by the pool you announced, “Hey i’m gonna connect my phone to the speaker.”

“Sounds good,” John B responded.

“What kind of music do you guys want to hear?”

“Anything really.” JJ added.

You clicked a random playlist and it blasted through the speaker.

Soon everyone was in the pool splashing and swimming.

JJ couldn’t seem to get it out of his head. The idea of kissing you has always swirled around in his mind but he never though it actually might happen. He couldn’t stop thinking about the almost kiss. Did you want to kiss him? He didn’t know. But one thing that was fore sure he wanted to kiss you. He wanted to feel his lips on yours, to taste you.

Yeah JJ loved you always have always will. You were like a ray of sunshine to him, lighting up his darkest nights. You we’re always there for JJ and he deeply appreciated it. Loving you was simple because you were perfect in his eyes.

“What are you thinking about?” You asked as you swam over to JJ.

“Huh oh what nothing.”

“You looked deep in thought,” you reasoned.

“I was just thinking about dinner,” JJ responded.

“Oh right of course.”

You were spinning around with a drink in your hand.

“Come here,” JJ beckoned.

You swam right in front of him and looped your arms around his neck. You were wrapped around JJ just goofing off. Then “Three Little Birds” started playing through the speaker.

JJ was smiling having you this close to him. He was loving it. The two of you were in your own little world. JJ took a sip of his drink. Then he got really close.

JJ made eye contact with you and then flickered his gaze down to your lips. You tilted your head up to give him access to your mouth.

You thought he was about to kiss you but then Pope came in announcing that he brought more drinks.

“Hey guys I brought more- wait am I interrupting something?” Pope asked holding more drinks.

“No not all,” JJ replied grumpily.

You didn’t know what to do so you started laughing. JJ seemed upset but you didn’t pry.

After lots of drinking and swimming you guys retired into the cabin. Everyone changed and got cozy on the couches.

JJ came up to you, “Can we talk?” he asked.

“Yeah, let’s go in my room.”

You led JJ to your room and got comfortable on your bed. JJ came and sat down next to you.

“Listen, my heart physically hurts not telling you that I’m in love with you,”

“JJ-“

“No. Let me finish,” he pleaded.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and your always on my mind. I thought I made it obvious with how I always flirt with you.” JJ continued.

“When you flirt with me i get so confused because i feel like you do that with every girl,” you spoke.

“It’s only ever been you y/n,” JJ replied.

“I only flirt with you, no one else.”

“Really?”

“Yes. and i’m absolutely dying to kiss you.” JJ exclaimed.

You gave him a nod signaling that it’s ok for him to kiss you. JJ was eager to kiss you. He surged forward and locked his lips with yours. Your lips were caressing each other, crushing together.

JJ felt warm all over. He felt like he was on cloud nine. Your cheeks were burning, the sensation feeling different. JJ cupped your face in his hands and you snuck your hands into his hair.

JJ swiped his tongue against your bottom lip asking for entrance, which you granted him.

Your tongues danced together in a lust filled haze. You pulled on JJ’s hair releasing a groan from him. This sent you into a frenzy desperate to hear that sound again.

Eventually your lungs were clenching and you needed more air. You pulled away out of breath. JJ looked at you grinning like a idiot. He was so happy.

“You have no idea how long I’ve waited for that,” JJ confessed.

You giggled and pecked his lips one more time.

“I love you,” JJ spoke again.

“I love you too J,” you announced.

Like he was holding his breath JJ let out a breath of air, he was relieved. He wouldn’t know what to do with himself if you didn’t love him back. JJ was feeling grateful that you invited him to your cabin. He finally got to kiss you and he has been waiting for it.

251 notes · View notes

rin-vana · 1 year

Text

⠀⠀⠀⠀───◌┈┈─── ♡ 𝇄 𝇃 𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐄 𝟕 ┋ 𝐅𝐓. 𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐆𝐄𝐑

⎯⎯ ( 𝙋𝘼𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎 ) : Guitarist!Eren x Single Mom!Reader

⎯⎯ ( 𝙎𝙔𝙉𝙊𝙋𝙎𝙄𝙎 ) : What went from buying baby food for his friend, to stumbling upon a struggling mother, Eren intrigues himself with the woman. What kind of gentleman would he be if he didn't help her out and reep the benefits?

⎯⎯ ( 𝘾.𝙒. ) : Heavily black coded reader, reader is older than Eren so slight age gap, Eren talks in his head a lot, thick coded reader, needy Eren, begging, unprotected sex, lactation (Eren is lowk a perv), nipple play, mutual masterbation (unknowingly), use of nicknames (sweetheart, sweet thing), vocal dirty talker Eren bec that boy can't shut up, reader lives in a 2 story apartment sorta, body worshipping, fully consensual

⎯⎯ ( 𝙒.𝘾. ) : 10,540

⎯⎯ ( 𝙉𝙊𝙏𝙀𝙎 ) : The idea of Eren talking in his head a lot versus verbally came from the amazing @/hellavile who wrote the piece Sketch. The idea resonated with me and literally a light bulb went off in my head like yup, that's so Eren, and I wanted to incorporate that idea into my own writing style bec i had this idea for like 3 years straight but never had the courage or time to write it out until now, and it really made me fall in love with his character in this piece of mine. So enjoy <3

Sex so quick it felt as if it didn't happen. You've been laying in bed for what felt like eternity afterwards because you've grown used to the empty spot beside you after coming back to your senses realizing your boyfriend had up and left while you were asleep, not shocking at all. It was something he had always done to either get weed from a gas station or get IHOP early in the morning, but it felt different, feeling as though it was going to be permanent. It isn't like you haven't had the feeling before, but every part of your intuition was telling you it was. Adding on to your growing headache was your son's wails as the sun's rays hardly peaked through your window, meaning you were forced to get up to tend to him. I'm coming Isaiah, give mommy a minute.

It was still dark in your apartment but you managed to enter your son's room, going over to his crib where he laid in a fit of tears at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning. You wanted to go back to bed, to forget about where your boyfriend was and taking care of Isaiah, but life had a funny way of not going ways we expect. You pulled your baby out the crib, hoisting him on your hip. Walking to the bathroom was no easy task with a crying little boy throwing a hissy fit at you for not being fed, and he wasn't trying to give you an easy time either. Too much like his father.

”Boy,” you groaned in frustration.”I'mma need you to stop crying so I can clean myself 'n you can be fed. Okay?”

You were talking to him as if he could understand a word you said, but it got him to stop so it didn't linger on your mind much longer than that. You set him down on the counter, undressing him to change his diaper that you did not sign up for when you got pregnant in the first place, the whole process you always found disgusting, but at the end of the day he was your flesh and blood, and somewhat his fathers. Isaiah much resembled you albeit he had your brown skin, but his father's grey, wide eyes and his nose. You couldn't have been happier he got your lips though. As much as you loved him he had absolutely none to save his life.

The process of getting your baby looking right took far too long than you realized, the sun was now fully up at 7:00 in the morning, but you weren't fully up with it. Your bonnet was messily on your head, a few braids spilling out from behind that you had meant to take out today but the world had other plans for you. ”Can you watch your cartoon so I can shower?”

A few babbles left your son's lips, and you took that as an answer not knowing what the hell he said, he was only 10 months old after all, still growing and can't be alone for more than 5 minutes when he's awake.

Your shower was short and getting yourself ready was even shorter. It was gonna be a long day and mentally you just weren't prepared for it.

”Alexa play Clouded by Brent Faiyaz.”

The flat, circular device began playing the song, so you turned off the TV grabbing the rest of your things as well as Isaiah in order to go downstairs while the music softly played in the background. You wanted to forget everything that happened last night, from finding out how much money your boyfriend spent to him selling your things to the mind-numbing sex that lasted longer longer it needed to. It was a lot in one night and you wanted to forget it all over eggs and sausage.

Finally moving downstairs from the loft part of your apartment, you're quick to feel the vibration from your phone and notice a few burnt out cigarettes on the kitchen island. Typical of him. You sat Isaiah in his high chair not too far from you, giving him a little toy to play with to distract him while you read the text message from the sender.

Connie💋 - 7:42 AM

I'm gonna be gone for a bit baby, IDK how long but I wasn't ready to have a kid, I'm sorry and I'll be back when I'm ready.

You knew that was going to be never, so why were you so goddamn frustrated? Not like he was much help anyways, but for him to leave with your money and a baby was heartless, even for him. The fuck is wrong with men. You couldn't help the bubbling rage inside you, but taking it out would only make things worse. Looking into the fridge for something, anything consumable only to find nothing was a big ass slap to the face however.

”Break up with me over text and now eat my damn food? Fucking dipshit,” you heaved the more you stared at your partially empty fridge, then looking back at Isaiah who returned the gaze which big innocent eyes that had not a thought behind them. To the market it is.

With the weather rising, wearing your cotton shorts made of sweatpants material and cropped jacket over nothing but a sports bra was one of the smartest things you've done after fucking with Connie. It was sad to admit your baby looked better than you but it was better than nothing. Getting him into his car seat and pulling off in the direction of your local Giants was silent, but stressful. You had to figure out how you were gonna take care of your baby on your own. Not like you haven't been doing so after Connie showed up to your apartment less and less, but the reality bitch slapped you in the face and you had to deal with it.

You pulled up to the parking lot a little under 15 minutes after leaving your house, getting out to sit in the backseat with Isaiah to give him a quick breastfeed so he would at least not embarrass you in public by crying. It took way too long for your liking to the point where you had to pull him off. ”You can't be eating like that all the time or you gonna be fat like mommy,” you said with the smallest smile looking down at him.

You cleaned yourself up and not too long after that entered the Giants with Isaiah hoisted on your waist again. He played with one of your braids as you chose a cart made for moms like you with small kids, putting him inside the chair that resembled a car seat except with the market's colors. You walked around aimlessly inside, grabbing whatever you needed to make decent meals for yourself and being mindful to grab your son a few things while you were at it. Picking all sorts of frozen meats and fresh vegetables seemed like muscle memory after your mother practically forced you to change your diet for the sake of your baby. It paid off in the end I guess.

You walked down an aisle specific for babies, eyeing all the different toys and miniature furniture made for the smaller humans. You stopped specifically at the section labeled "baby food" looking through each brand and going for whatever looked the most healthiest. You were putting a few of them in your cart one by one until your hand and another's overlapped on the same one accidentally.

”Sorry,” you said rushed to whoever it was, not taking the time to look at them as your hand retracted to grab another bottle.

”You can have it.”

A voice so deep you could've sworn it was an echo and not a real person talking to you. Your face had nearly whipped to whoever it was, eyebrow raising in suspicion at who your hand had brushed against. Standing beside you was a tall looking boy that had brown hair brushing a little past his shoulders, the rest in a very messy bun and stray hairs sprawled across his face. He was young, that much you could tell just from what felt like forever staring at him, but his voice made him sound as if it was aged like fine wine.

”Oh- um.. thank you.”

”Do you always stare?” The question alone caught you off guard, stepping back a little to really get a good look at him. He was wearing a white simple baggy t-shirt messily tucked into black capri pants and black adidas. He had a few bits of jewelry here and there, a thin gold necklace dangling over his chest and a matching gold bracelet to go with it. He not bad looking.

”I don't always stare, jus' in my head.” That was a lie. You were staring at the poor boy longer than any stranger would have, but your ego would never allow you to admit that. Isaiah seemed to have a way of telling when your attention wasn't fully on him because he made a loud noise that partially startled you. You turned towards him to silence him a little by giving him something random in your jacket pocket which happened to be a toy car that somehow got in there.

”I take it he's a handful,” the boy spoke again, looking at Isaiah who is in his seat and smiling at the brown haired male. He returned to looking at you who then looked at him again, smiling awkwardly at that but at the end of the day you couldn't care less. ”He can be but I got it.” No the hell you don't.

The pale boy was staring at you for a little, eyeing you up and down once or twice to get a good at your little get-up. He took in every detail as slowly as possible, carving the image of your shorts riding up exposing your thighs, the cleavage your jacket zipper revealed and the ink you have on your left thigh into his head. To be honest you felt like his gaze was swallowing you whole, so you had to break the eye contact otherwise your body temperature would rise. ”Where's your boyfriend to help you?”

”He's deadbeat and gone.” You scoffed at the mere mention of him, grabbing baby formula and tossing it into the cart suddenly feeling your emotions of anger return from earlier. You noticed how the tall boy's eyes seemed to widen before relaxing to the lazy look he had before, his body now facing you entirely.

His voice was smooth and calm as he spoke. ”Sorry to hear that then.”

”It's no problem honestly, the only good thing the bit- I mean he did leave me is Isaiah here.” You smiled with the words you spoke. Sure you may have hated Connie's guts and wanted nothing more than to beat the shit out of him, but you're happy with your baby nonetheless.

After a semi-long silence of you both skimming over the isle one last time, you decided to speak again with inquiry in your tone. ”I didn't get your nam-”

”Eren.” He beat you to it, his body seeming much closer than before because you could feel his body heat radiating off of him, as well as the faint smell of natural forest lurking the more you breathed in and out your nose. It was intoxicating.

”⌈name⌋.” You replied somewhat shortly after, having the silence engulf you until you got tired of it. ”Do you mind.. helping me with this? Like– moving it into my car or somethin'?”

Eren pondered in his head, his deadpan expression boring into yours as his brain seemed to think of a proper response. He did want to help, you looked so small and fragile like you could break at any moment, and yet he liked it. You needed his help even if you've only known each other for 5 minutes. A hum resonated deep within his chest, vibrating his entire being as he prolonged his answer, the reason being seeing your face impatiently wait for a reply.

You want me to say yes don't you? You're giving it away. ”I'll help. Got nothing better to do.”

Your lips curved upwards into a smile again, your body turning to your cart with Isaiah who was gnawing at his own fingers and eyeing Eren as he began following behind you with his basket in tow full of his own food.

”I really appreciate the help, Eren. I probably woulda struggled on my own.” You spoke and giggled at the same time, but the brown haired boy walking beside you was in his own world of thoughts that were slightly muted in the back of his head.

”It's no problem.”

”Can I ask why you got baby food? You got a girlfriend at home?”

Curious now. We just met.

”Nah,” he replied shortly, turning his head slightly down to look at you as you kept walking forward. ”For a friend of mine. Having his own kid 'n he asked me to buy it for him.”

”So you just helping everybody.”

Eren smiled when you finally looked at him. ”In a way, yes. I don't mind doing it 'cause it's nice watching them from the sidelines.”

”So then why don't you have a girlfriend?”

He thought about it for a minute, his relaxed face seeming so close and so far to yours at the same time, the strong eye contact not being dared to be broken by either of you. It was obvious there was some unspoken tension in the air the more you looked at each other and the more you awaited Eren's answer.

”Never really found time for one.”

Your eyebrows rose and your head tilted to the right a little. ”Is that your real answer or somethin' you made up?”

Do that again. ”You'd have to find out for yourself.”

You finally broke the never ending eye contact that had you in a chokehold, walking forward quicker as to hide your face. Not like any blush would show up regardless but you could definitely feel your face getting hot just from the closeness of your bodies.

With you walking so fast Eren opted to take his time to grab anything else he might need, but the conversation was stuck in his head. He played with the bracelet on his wrist catching up to where you stood now in the snack aisle grabbing all sorts of chips. You felt his eyes on you again but couldn't look at him.

You want to look at me don't you? Why don't you do it?

”Miss ⌈name⌋—”

”Uh-uh boy that make me sound older than what I am.” You both shared a laugh, his somewhat quiet, yours a little louder. Isaiah joined in on the noise making by throwing his toy out the seat. You were about to grab it but Eren got it before you could, handing it to your son who babbled more nonsense.

You need someone to help you with him. I can tell but it's fine. Take all the time you need to ask. ”Then, ⌈name⌋, how old are you?”

You turn to smile at him again, teasing him almost. ”You know it's rude to ask a woman her age right?”

”I'm just curious.”

Eren leaned on the opposite side of the cart where Isaiah was sitting, supporting himself on his elbows and eyeing you as you grabbed more things.

”Late twenties.”

”Not even an exact number but you can ask me about my relationship status?” His grin was nothing short of mischievous and teasing, his nose scrunched and releasing a little at the end of his sentence. ”If it's gonna be like then I'm only in my early 20s.”

You quirked an eyebrow at him. ”How early?”

So now you're interested again. What if I make you guess.

”That's something you'll also have to figure out.”

”Stop playing with me,” you laughed to shield your embarrassment from him.

Your little shopping trip went longer than expected thanks to your new found acquaintance. Even if Eren was like a minx he managed to help you as he promised, putting bag after bag in the trunk of your 2015 BMW. It was like nothing for him to lift and honestly it was a turn on. His hand easily grabbed 5 bags at once.

Isaiah was already sitting in the car while the two of you stood outside in the humid air. ”Thank you for the help 'cause I don't know how I've been doing it on my own.”

Eren's lips raise at that, his face showing contemptment. ”Then should I give you my number to continue my "helping"?”

His voice dropped an entire octave as if it was mocking you. You had to readjust your stance in order to respond properly, confidently at that. ”No, you can wait for it though.”

You giggled when his expressions changed to a shocked one as you unlocked your car and sat inside it, starting it at the same time.

”Then how will I find you if I can't contact you?”

She's going to raise her eyebrow again.

You raised your eyebrow at him, long nails hovering over the steering wheel as you looked at him. ”You live around here right?”

”Well, yes, but—”

”Then we'll run into each other eventually.”

Eventually turned into a week because soon enough you ran out of food from eating like a mad woman. Everything in you didn't want to go out, wanting so badly to stay laying on the couch with Isaiah in his playpen in his own little world while you caught up on your shows. Your ankles were swollen from overdoing it the past few days that walking in itself felt like a chore. Maybe I should call him—

Oh, right. You didn't have his phone number.

So now here you were at the same market as last week, grabbing damn near the same thing until this time in the snack aisle you saw the same silhouette as before. Eren this time was wearing a sage green long sleeve loose shirt, however the sleeves pulled up a little below his elbows and light grey pants accompanied with some green and white vans.

What caught you off guard was the glasses on his face. ”You ain't tell me you wear glasses.”

Eren looked up slowly from his bent down position eyeing whatever large bag of chips he was looking at. The same grin he had from last week was on his face when he saw you. Assuming she needs my number.

”I don't actually, these are fake ones that I wear from time to time. But, you didn't tell me you wear sexy maxi dresses on Thursdays.”

Eren watched as you looked down to eye yourself, attempting to flip your now new hairstyle of your wig that looked somewhat styled. The hair seemed to engulf your head almost, but it made you look endearing. You were fogging his head now, pretty woman.

”I don't usually, but I decided to look nice. You don't like it?”

Eren chuckled. ”When did I suggest that? You look beautiful sweetheart.”

You felt your face heat up again and your stomach turn. Why was heat growing in your stomach over a small nickname. Your laugh felt forced and breathy to him, and his smirk only grew in size the more you seemed to shy away. ”So we’re doin' nicknames now.”

You're shy over a few words. You didn't get treated well by him didn't you? He made you so upset. I'll take care of you. ”We can if that's what you'd like.”

He was seriously messing with you. He knew that. He loved how you tried to take little steps to hide from his eyes, he loved how you played with your hands the more the silence dragged on, he especially loved his view.

”That is a one time thing.” You finally spoke, your tone a little broken but it's the best you could do. You felt hot and trapped in your own body, this hasn't happened since your first month of dating Connie.

”Don't like it sweetheart?”

Damn his smirk.

”That's enough out of you Eren.” You were bluffing out your ass at this point, moving on to another aisle but he just had to follow you. He was driving you mad at that point. ”You gonna give me a headache if you keep going.”

I'm sure you won't. You want me to keep going sweet girl. ”But you need my help, right?”

You inhaled deeply before you spoke, turning your head to face him. ”Yeah I might just ask another guy for help if you keep that up.”

Eren's face contorted into surprise, allowing his emotion to show through his face. You wouldn't dare. He moved himself closer to you, his arms crossing with his basket in hand, his face suddenly moving so close you forgot you had to breathe for a second. ”Would you really do that? My heart would be so broken.”

You rolled your eyes and put a hand on his chest, pushing him away slightly leaving him to let out such a sweet, deep laugh. It made you wonder if he was really younger than you or not. You continued walking towards the check out area, getting in a random line with Eren beside you whose eyes were staring so hard you could feel it. I'm just admiring, he told himself, but that was a lie. He couldn't help but to stare at the way your dress hugged your body and how it seemed so soft to the touch, how it developed after your pregnancy, how, if he stood close enough, your behind would be on him and your head on his chest, looking like a real c—

”Eren you're next.”

The boy let his mind wander too far for his own good and he didn't so much as realize it. He just nodded at you, his voice stuck in his throat as he put his own basket of groceries on the conveyor belt. You noticed how he got quiet all of a sudden, giving your son some attention while you waited for him. It wasn't until he finally paid that he looked you in the eyes again, then noticeably trailed his gaze down to your cleavage.

You felt hot again under his gaze, clearing your throat to make him stop. What's with the tension? you ask yourself, walking side by side with him. ”Is something wrong? You staring harder than I did when I first saw you.”

It was meant to be a little funny, you even smiled and was about to force a laugh, but Eren wasn't smiling at all. His face had greed written all over it, and he was well aware of it too. His eyes were more relaxed, lips downturned in a frown. He decided to play along and let a miniscule laugh leave his throat, but his eyes were stuck on you.

”The only thing wrong is how I don't have your number yet,” he finally replied, to which your eyes doubled a little.

You both were standing at your car by time he finished his declaration. Jus' smile 'n laugh it off. You lowered your head smiling like a little school girl, digging in your purse to find your phone and handed it over to him, shifting impatiently as he typed in the digits slowly as if he were messing with you. He handed the phone back over allowing you to see what he put himself as.

”"Personal shopper" with a green heart emoji?”

”Yeah, like that one Nicki Minaj song? It was piggy.. something.”

You smiled even wider. ”Itty bitty piggy? What you know about that?”

Eren's face looked as if he had won a million dollars with the way he gazed upon you, looking happy and all. ”I just know it's by her.. but it seemed to impress you enough.”

You couldn't help yourself. Him going from being a seductive little shit to being adorable wasn't what you were used to. Sure you and Connie had your moments but it hasn't made you feel as strong as now.

”You're going to call me, right?” You questioned him, not knowing 100% if you both had something solid or it was just a few lucky times of meeting. Seeing him hold out his pinkie however took you by surprise.

”I can pinkie promise on it.”

”Are you a five year old?”

With your protests and his coercion, you locked pinkies with him anyway, getting in your car afterwards sealing your departure from one another. Getting home with so much on your mind from today was like being a deer in headlights, and Isaiah wasn't making it easy either with his fits of wanting whatever he wanted at the time.

It was quiet. A feeling that felt foreign after your long day. Your son had already gone to sleep after being fed, so it was almost eerie. It doesn't make sense because you've been living like this frequently after Connie came around less, but having the presence of someone physically there is always better. You were mindlessly scrolling on your phone looking for better things to occupy yourself with, going as far as going through your YouTube playlist because the silence was overbearing.

”It's quiet isn't it,” Eren says, standing not too far from the bed, his face solemn as he sits in his black bean bag, tweaking with the tuning pegs of his guitar, headphones loosely on his shoulders. His eyes are closed as he imagines a melody in his head, one simple that flows and is easy to register as calming. His fingers are finding their way to the strings of the instrument, strumming them softly. His mouth curls into a smile the more his imagination vividly shifts to the guitar suddenly being you, plush thighs enveloping his slender fingers the more he strokes it, a song coming from your lips.

You hum along to the song of choice playing from your phone, allowing the notes to leave your lips as pleasure seeps through your body. Enjoyment taking over your entire being as the music continues, body writhing around more to get comfortable, eyes shut to enjoy the feeling even more of the euphorium that seems to spread. Your fingers try so hard to stop the adrenaline building but they disobey your mind, rubbing at your bud so hopelessly you can't help but to imagine it was Connie that was helping you. His heavy breaths fanning over your face, his body behind yours as you're sprawled across his lap trying to reach your peak.

I'll help you ride out this tune, He says to you. His long fingers are reaching spots inside you, making you cry out an even sweeter song. His long hair— Connie doesn't have long hair, — A strong build is supporting you as you stuff yourself with your fingers. Eren continues moving his digits, curling them to make you emit a wonderful symphony from your lips. He meticulously moves the end of his fingers, head tilted back against the fabric as sweat builds up all over his body, the song becoming so much for him it corrupts his mind almost.

You're trying so hard to submit yourself to your imagination, biting your lip to stop yourself from becoming too loud but you only get louder, back arched from the warmth he provided, his turquoise colored eyes peering down at you, watching your face contort. Connie doesn't have turquoise eyes though, nor brunette hair. Eren. He's on your mind when you feel the most pleasure you've given yourself in a while. Is it wrong? To think of him right after you get his number? You want to say it's wrong, but the sound of lewd squechling clouds your mind the more your fingers feel more like what you imagine to be his.

Brushing against your clit just barely and you're already teary eyed. Your eyes are screwed shut, his hands holding you firmly. He's keeping you down to keep his own composure, stroking and stroking, getting you so close. His lips are parted as he can see you reaching your peak, your ecstasy, as your pretty moans get louder and louder—

You open your eyes to your fingers being coated in your slick, no longer seeing the long strands of brown hair clouding your view, nor feeling the firm front side of him behind you. Your mind echoed Connie, but your body felt someone else, someone who's been in your mind ever since you gave yourself time to think. He's ruining your body and you're allowing it. Your bonnet was now halfway off after being lost in your head, braids sprawled across your sheets, earbuds no longer connected to your ears playing the slow songs you absorbed yourself to.

Eren's jaw is slack, his eyes finally opening from whatever euphoria he got himself into based on your image in his head. He looked down at himself, his shirt slightly raised revealing his v-line, but moreover there was an obvious outline of his erection showing in his sweats. You got me like this. His hair is a mess and his body temperature is different from before, but all he can do is just sit there, that is until he got the idea to call you. He already decided that he wanted you, that he wanted to be the one you could depend on. The brunette grabbed his phone at the thought, opening his phone to the keypad where he typed your number that he managed to memorize after seeing it from your phone.

Personal shopper💚 - 5:27 PM

Can I call you?

You felt the vibrations of your phone at the notification, and looking at your screen you see it was Eren who texted you. You hadn't expected him to ask to call you, but who were you to deny him. Not like you weren't just imagining having sex with him. Your fingers typed away at the screen, replying with a short "sure" and waiting for him to call you, not expecting him to do so immediately. ”Hey Eren.”

”Hey– hope I didn't catch you at a bad time.”

”No not at all actually,” you couldn't hide the smile on your face, why were you getting so riled up over a phone call?

”You sure?,” he breathily laughed midway. ”You sound groggy and out of breath.”

”Isaiah was wearing me out. I should be askin' you that though. What are you doing?” Was it obvious? Did you sound that out of breath? Would he figure out you were touching yourself to him? It was an erotic idea for him to guide you through the phon—

”Oh. 'M not doing anything besides messing with my guitar, nothin' special.” Liar.

”You play?” You couldn't hide the surprise in your tone. You were intrigued and there was no hiding it. You sat up in your bed as if he could physically see he had your full attention.

Eren liked the tone of your voice resonating in his ears, it got him in a better mood even. Aren't you cute. ”Not as much but I can play a decent song when I feel like it.”

”Can you do a song for me then?”

”Haven't played for anyone in a while–”

”But would you do it for me?” You may have been pressing him a little, but your curiosity was getting the better of you and you liked how shy he sounded.

The line on the other end went silent as he contemplated in his head, but it didn't last long. ”Mmm,” he sounded. ”I'll think about it.”

”Can you think quicker?”

You both shared a laugh, one that sounded genuine and filled the silence that was once present. Any awkward feelings were left behind the more you talked, swinging your legs back and forth when you turned to lay on your stomach. You could hear shuffling from Eren's end and heard the sound of sheets ruffling, assuming he was in bed.

”What do I get in return for doing this exactly?” Think real hard about how you're going to repay me and I might give you what you want.

”Would inviting you over work? 'cause I'm not gonna have Isaiah on saturday.” You figured the timing couldn't be better, and you wanted to see him outside of the market. Being a little selfish never hurt, and it's not like you're in a relationship anymore.

Eren smiled despite you not being able to see it, eyeing the instrument beside his bed. ”Works for me. I'll finish the song for you by then.” You're going to do it again.

You raised your eyebrow, a puff of air coming out your nose. ”A song for me? You'd do that?”

”Since you asked like a sweetheart I figured why not.” He was going to be the death of you.

”You stay playin' too much.” You had to play it off otherwise you would've felt your body hot. You weren't easy to crack but this white boy was doing wonders to you for no reason.

He smiled imagining your reaction, eyes relaxed as he focused on the sound of your voice. It'll sound even sweeter soon. Make sure you forget about your ex.

”I'll see you in a few days then.”

”I'll be looking forward to my song then Eren.”

The wait felt like forever actually. The week couldn't have gone by fast enough and you were growing restless, even though you two have been talking in between. Working didn't help either and you were anticipating the time you two were going to spend together. You managed to always work yourself up over small, or big things, making it one of the biggest stresses until it's solved. Right now, your stress is him. Of course not hearing back from your ex at all was worrying at some points, but you knew it was coming eventually, and now have a better distraction from all that.

Once saturday did finally roll around was when you dolled yourself up more than usual. You got to take your braids out thanks to boredom and styled it completely differently, putting on your best lashes and smearing minor hints of makeup on your face. Was it a lot for one guy? Possibly, but it passed the time.

It wasn't long before the doorbell rang, and opening it revealed Eren with a large black case in the shape of a guitar slung across his shoulder. He looked down at you, a smug smile across his face and lidded eyes that hadn't the slightest expression behind them. He was hard to read sometimes. You let him inside your home, not that big but still bright and open.

”Y'have a nice place,” Eren commented dryly, stepping inside and taking off his shoes at the front door.

”I decorated a majority of it. A woman's touch was all it needed to look nice.” It was meant as a funny comment, but his face remained as stoic as ever. Did something happen?

His body had approached yours, and suddenly you felt intimidated by how close he was. Eren leaned down slightly in order to get closer, looking you up and down and intaking every bit of you. You were wearing a dress that stopped at your mid-thigh, the cleavage being low but you threw on those cropped hoodies that stopped at your breasts so even still you were somewhat exposed, and the sight was in his face. ”So your ex didn't help?”

Eren finally stepped away from you after he spoke, following the open floor plan to your living room, sitting on your sofa with you following behind, sitting near him but keeping a bit of a distance. ”He didn't but he wouldn't 've helped that much anyways. But, how have you been?”

You made yourself sound as polite as possible, and to Eren he couldn't fight back his lips curling upwards, his hair flowing with him. It wasn't in the man bun, it was more like a half-up half-down style with a small ponytail and instead of strands sitting on his face, his hair was more free. ”Decent, getting by. How about you?”

”I could say the same. With Isaiah at his grandmother's I can get some peace.”

I could've helped. ”I was wondering why it was so quiet in here,” he commented.

Eren began pulling out the guitar from the bag, and it seemed so small compared to his larger build but you knew it'd be big if it were you that was playing. He flung the strap around his head and positioned himself comfortably on your couch, leaning back and spreading his legs partially. Is he trying to get under your skin on purpose?

”It took me a bit but hope you like it.”

”I'm sure I will.”

He was hesitant, that was blatantly clear enough. His fingers were still against the strings of the guitar and his face looked uneasy with the amount of times he readjusted himself. He knew he was taking too long to start which is why he said something. ”Sorry, like I said, haven't played for someone else in a while.”

”Take your time then,” you reassured him, placing your hand on his shoulder and rubbing lightly. His body was tense underneath when you first touched him, but he let himself go the more you rubbed.

He finally began tugging at the thin strings, a gentle sound emitting from the instrument that filled the silence. His eyes were fixated on the guitar, but yours were stuck on his face. Did he always have that dimple on his left cheek? You were almost lost in his features until the tune registered in your ears. It was soft, a higher pitch on some parts, but it became a slow melody after that. He was actually good. You found yourself bobbing your head a little to it, glancing at the way Eren's fingers gently struck the instrument, how they seemed to so easily know what note to hit, how to direct the tips of them. Did he always have long fingers like that?

You're so dumbfounded at the features you didn't allow yourself to notice before that you didn't see how Eren was now looking at you, contempt with the way your eyes were glued to his hands, and feeling at ease with your hand still on him. It's not the silence he was expecting but he'd take it if it meant you were right there.

Your hands are moving up, it has him a little nervous and even tense but he seems to melt like putty when you stroke his hair just once. His bottom lip is a little tucked in and the tune of his little song quickened, but his eyes are practically burning into your face the longer you look away, and you enjoy it. You felt the power you had in the situation, making him wait longer than he had to. The tension is already becoming suffocating, and you can hardly hold eye contact for shit, but you want to so badly. You're giving in faster than you can think about it, meeting his eyes feeling like you were in a fever dream.

”You're really good at it.”

Eren had to force a small, breathless laugh to even respond. ”You had me worried with how quiet you were.”

”Just keep playing.”

And that he did. For once he was the first to look away and concentrate on his guitar while you stared like a fucking creep when you just couldn't stop yourself. You were drinking every bit of his features including the softness of his hair. He's trying so hard to avoid your face, but you touching him was making him shift. Wanna fuck me so bad huh. You're touching him in all the right places, your fingers with acrylics on them gliding to his mid-thigh the more he plays, the song becoming much lower. He can't help but look at you now. Not with the way you're practically begging for his dick like a greedy whore.

”Y'really know how to tease someone,” he rasps, voice low at how close yall were. Your plump lips were curved upwards in a sly smile, suddenly retracting your hands as if you weren't all over him. You raise a brow at him as if he hasn't done that to you. ”I have experience.”

There you go again. The guitar is long forgotten by now, leaning against your couch. His body is turned towards yours, his build feeling oppressive with the way it towers over you, and you love it. His arm is rested against the back of the sofa, the other one suddenly grabbing your hand it nearly brings you from your senses. He's putting it on his chest, sliding it up and down his body and now you're melting.

”Can ya show me that experience 'cause right now I wanna kiss you so fuckin' bad.”

You're giving in to him as soon as he gets the words out his mouth, pressing your lips against his and taking control of your own hands again by running them all over his body. Eren isn't hesitant to do the same, pulling you forward so it's skin against skin. He's too shy to admit he likes the contrast of tones and even more shy to admit that he's giving in to every bit of you. His mouth fits like a puzzle against yours and it's over when your tongue brushed against his lips, he's already parting them to allow his own tongue to further itself inside your mouth.

Saliva dribbled down his chin and it felt too soon when you both departed to regain oxygen, his pupils blown with clear need. His cheeks are five shades of red just from a kiss and it has you rubbing your thighs together. ”Touch me, please,” you mumble in between the exchange of spit. He's doing as you said obediently, a different kind of feeling running through your body at his hands roaming your curves and the fact that he listened.

Soon enough you're letting out sounds you hadn't made genuinely in what felt like forever, pulling away from his face to catch your breath. It gave you time to really think, to really process what was going on. You've only known Eren for like two weeks and you're all over him. There's doubt in your face the more you pull away, wiping your wet mouth the longer you avoid his eyes, the same ones you've dreamed about while fucking yourself.

Eren couldn't let this chance pass, not when he had you like this. Lips swollen and damn near straddling him. Not yet, don't stop baby, please, need you right now. He's intertwining his hand into yours, fingers curling in between your own so he can pull you back towards him. It was gentle, a stark contrast to before but it had you back in his embrace instantly. ”C'mon, lemme take care of you. You deserve it so much.”

”You want it that bad with me?” You couldn't help but inquire, searching his face for bits of truth because the last thing you'd want is to be used again. You were scared.

He suddenly lifted you from the couch after scooping you up by the ass into his arms, holding you up by the underside of your thighs. ”Do you really–”

”Fuck, yes, been wanting it from ya for a while.” Let me fuck you how you deserve to be fucked. Eren's lips are on yours again as he walked, carrying you upstairs until your back suddenly hit a wall. Your tongues are practically dancing with each other. Your breath hot and so damn rigged. His body is pressed against yours so close you can feel something hard against your leg. His chest heaving up and down. He's keeping you up far enough just to kiss you deep enough. Fuck he's taking over your damn mind.

”Which way,” he paused just to kiss you again. ”..is your room.”

”Door on the left.”

You're out of breath but you still want more which is a damn shame. You can feel your panties become soiled the more you try to move in his grasp. He's already opening your door by then and carefully laying you on your mattress, hovering above your body and looking so far into your eyes you're sure he knows every bit of thought you've had about him.

Your hands are moving on their own traveling up his shirt, tugging at it eagerly to get him to take it off. Eren can't help but grin at this, helping you pull his shirt off and toss it somewhere, but he eyed your dress as if he hated it. ”Y'want me to take it off?” He asked as he eyed you further, hands sliding up your waist and following the outline of your body until you said yes. He pulled it off you and as soon as he did he pulled down your bra. ”Eren wait—”

”I can't wait anymore, need to have you. Please let me [name].” Eren's eyes met yours and every bit of logical thinking got thrown out the window. He looked so damn needy with his hair tussle and swollen lips, hands not stopping the constant kneeding to your thick flesh, all of which he's trying not to get carried away in. His eyes look a much darker shade of turquoise, and in that moment you felt like he'd tear you apart the more he looked at you. ”Go ahead, 'n try not to disappoint me.”

”I don't plan on keeping you bored,” and as quick as he finished his lips latched on to your nipple, a choked whine leaving your mouth because his mouth felt so wet and warm against your skin it was addictive. He kept flicking his tongue and sucking eagerly while undressing himself, and seeing the imprint in his boxers made you whine even more. You needed him, falling into his trap of touches and harsh licks, your thighs locking around his waist to grind yourself on him.

”I know baby, I wanna lose myself to you too, but there's something I wanna try.”

”And what's that?”

He answered your question by placing his mouth on your other nipple. Your mind was in a daze at the built up pressure of your chest suddenly feeling relief and it only then hit you what he wanted to try. He was milking your breasts fucking dry and you were more turned on by it. You had to rub your cunt against him, the ache was becoming unbearable because of the mess he was making on your chest. ”Eren, shit, Eren please, I can't take anymore waiting, need you in me.”

He let go of your nipple with a pop sound resonating in your ears, his mouth a complete mess from indulging himself in his filthy fantasy of sucking your tits and getting something out of them. Really it was something he should've been embarrassed about but thinking of the way your body reacted to it didn't help, he needed you in his mouth, in his hold. He can't let another second pass by where you're not near him chanting his name.

”I wanna savor this a little longer [name], be a little patient with me.”

You're nodding along and even still he sends a firm slap to the side of your thigh where your tattoo is and a small yelp leaves your mouth that distracts you long enough so he can finally pull down his boxers. His length springs free from its confinement and you can't help but let your jaw slack a little.

”God you're bigger than I imagined.”

You thought about us fucking haven't you. ”You've imagined my size?” He lets out a small chuckle.

”Don't get too cocky,” you responded, but Eren wasn't going to let your comments slide, yanking your underwear down your thighs and throwing them across the room, eyeing your mound having a starved haze over it. It wasn't enough for him though, he's greedy and selfish with what he wants.

”Spread your legs,” he orders and you can feel the heat rush to your face, spreading yourself open until his hand pushes your thighs back further, having your pussy sprawled out for him like a meal. His eyes are locked on to how wet you were, reaching a hand down to allow his fingers to spread you more. You couldn't help but giggle at his enthralment, keeping yourself open for him, wiggling your hips just a bit. His fingers spread your puffy lips open and it was then he lost it. Your cute hole fluttered open as more of your slick coated your inner thighs, your clit poking out just for him.

Eren finally began to line himself up to your cunt, lightning sparks in your body the longer he looked at you and the more he rubbed his tip against your already engorged clit, a moan withdrawing from your throat.

”You gonna let me in sweet thing?” You shuddered as goosebumps appeared on your skin, nodding your head slowly because coming up with a coherent response felt impossible. He lowered his head towards your neck, biting and kissing and suckling on your skin as he finally eased the tip inside you.

”Ng..ghh fuck,” you inhaled sharply the more he pushed on, but he suddenly stopped and you whined despite feeling so damn full already. You can feel his breath staggering against your neck as it trails further up to your lips, capturing them in another one of his overpowering kisses that you submerged yourself into. He continued to push himself in again and that's when you felt the pressure to a specific spongy spot within you. He curved a good ways to the right and inside you it was the perfect amount of pressure that had you hyperventilating.

”Let me know when you're ready, y'look like you struggling.” He kept his eyes on yours the entire time, watching your cute face contort. Eren had a guilty pleasure for watching you struggle to take him. He was big and he knew it. Your mouth had been quivering, trying to adjust to the mere thickness of him, but seeing his face written with knowing had you fixing your own. ”Just.. start moving.”

Your command had been answered with a breathless chuckle once Eren finally started moving his hips back and forth at a slow pace. Every time he bottomed out you felt a painfully good pressure in your stomach. Low mewls resonated in your throat as he kept going, adjusting to both his size and the pace of friction he set. Eren's mouth hung ajar, eyes lidded but locked onto the way he slid in and out of you. You're so goddamn wet.

”Fuck.” He couldn't keep his hands off you any longer. It'd be a waste not to touch you when you're underneath him after all. His body leaned forward until you were face to face, his hands drifting towards yours and guiding them to wrap around his neck. ”I-... want you to hold onto me, alright?” You gave him a meek nod as an answer until you felt a shift in pace. You were only just getting adjusted to the slow and steady tone but with his size going like this had you feeling hazy and lightheaded. You needed him closer to you, feeling his skin against yours, feeling like you'd lose yourself to the feeling of his dick without it.

”Oh my God—” you rasp and claw at his back to ease some of the pleasure, even if it's just by a little bit, but no matter how close you pull him to your body it's not enough. Losing yourself on me, too fuckin' cute.

Eren loves how vocal you are, and it's all for him. The way you shudder when his hips snap against your pussy, the way you squeeze him to damn near suffocation, he has to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning like a bitch. His lips meet the crevice of your neck, his teeth beginning to tug at your skin as a way to muffle his moans, but you feel them vibrate in your body and it has you digging your nails into his back.

”Just like that.. keep grabbing me, not goin' anywhere sweetheart.” The way his voice sounded right at your ear had you whining again. He sounded so fucking sexy. All you can do is just nod.

You're grasping at the chance for air when his pace increases. At that point it felt like he was just so goddamn deep inside you to the point where it even stung a little. ”'Ren.. Eren. Hurts– too deep,” you plead to him, a hand of yours leaving his back to push his hips away a little, but his hand is quick to swat it away and hold your waist. ”Can't help it, you keep pulling me in. Feels so good I can't help it.. fuuck.”

The best you can do is sniffle as a sob leaves your lips. It sounded so beautiful to Eren though, like the beautiful melody that's been playing in his head on repeat. He needed to hear more from you because you sounded so pretty, so cute. But he couldn't see your face like this when he knows it's probably tear stained and fucking slutty, so he moves his head from your neck to get a better look at you, and he couldn't be more right. Your eyes were glued to the way his pelvis met yours, tears on your cheeks from the way it felt like he was in your stomach. Fuck. ”You look so pretty like this. Pretty little face and the prettiest pussy in the world.”

He left you speechless at his choice of words. They were so filthy but they felt so good, just as good as the pressure in your pussy. How could a man fuck like that? Like him? Can't tell if you love him or his dick, or both. His eyes stayed lidded and locked on you, but you looked like you were losing yourself, so he tapped your cheek. ”Don't go passing out on me.”

You giggle with little breath, gasping in between but your body is giving itself away, jerking and writhing feeling heat pool in your clit. ”Sorry, 'm getting close. Mmmh.. I'm gonna cum soon if you keep moving like that.”

”Then I wanna see your face, wanna see how beautiful it is. Wanna see it when you cum.” It's all he can say because there's an eagerness to seeing you unravel. He felt it too, feeling himself tighten and ache feeling the way your warmth squeezed him just right. Shit, forgot a condom. At that point Eren didn't care, he'd just pull out. You didn't seem to care either, your whines getting louder and your hand going to push at his waist again once he startes fucking you harder than before. You missed being able to hold him the way you were before, but you also liked the view of him looming above you, exposed chest, v-line and all.

”Oh fuck, oh my God, Eren– shit.” Your free hand starts gripping the sheet beside your head feeling yourself cum and spasm on his cock, biting your lip as you moan.

Eren felt the new sudden feeling of something creamy on him, looking at where the two of you connected and saw your essence seep out of your hole as he kept fucking into you. The sight had him on the edge, body sweating and full of so much damn regret as he pulled out. He's desperately wrapping a hand around his shaft and fucking his fist, head tilted back trying to imagine that he was still inside you. The sight was so sexy, to watch him get off to the thought of your pussy still hugging him, even as your breath was still ragged and mind hazy you wanted to remember that forever.

”So fuckin' beautiful– ahh. Your ex didn't deserve this perfect pussy, this perfect body— fuck!” He's so frustrated that he has to finish like this, but he's the one that gets to cover you in his cum and the thought alone gets him spurting thick ropes of white onto your stomach and clit, some dripping down onto your partially gaping hole. God your ex. If he could rub it in his face it'd probably make him cum again that he gets to fuck you better than him.

You're admiring the way he keeps leaking onto your body, white pools glistening against your skin. You were breathless and the space where your legs met your pelvis were starting to ache the longer you held them in this position so you put them down. By doing that you didn't think you'd get his attention though. ”Who said we was done, sweet thing? Put your legs back up f'me.” Go ahead and arch your eyebrow.

An eyebrow of yours raised, looking him up and down when all he did was just look at you with that same cocky smirk you remember from the market. ”Oh really?” You weren't gonna back out now, and in all honestly Eren wasn't either. He wanted to test your limits, see and learn what your body likes.

The night before seemed like forever ago, or a messy dream at that, because before you knew it the sun was shining through your black-out curtains signifying that a day had passed. The aching where your legs met your pelvis couldn't be more overwhelming, but the sleep you got distracted you from the dull ache. Horny fucker.

Originally you were meant to go sex-free for a while, but clearly your mind and pussy had other plans. Not like you had much room for regret though because it was one of the best experiences of your life. Eren. He was so much better than you could've imagined, he even changed your bed sheets for you while you showered independently. You smiled reminiscing on the aftermath, but you wanted to see him, see his pretty face again, hear his voice. Should I be like this?

You turned over only to be met with an empty bed, sitting up from your laying position to study your empty room. You didn't hear anything, nor felt movement in your own bed so you wondered if he left. Damn, just how good did he fuck you for you to not hear him leave? Even still, there was a high chance he did since he didn't live with you, and it more or less felt like a one night stand.

You shouldn't feel so disappointed, but at the same time you want to call him and ask him where he is, listen to him talk, just be with him. But he wasn't there, in the same fashion that Connie wasn't there either. For fucks sake. One pretty guy enters your life and he's already imprinted on your mind. You're sitting up by then, legs dangling over the edge of your bed as you sit and contemplate whether you should try to find out where he is, however what if he didn't answer and your apartment is actually empty? You didn't want to admit you were scared, but the questions spiraling in your head made your anxiety spike.

Not again, not like this shit again. You can't let yourself be fucked over by another guy again, you've already been at that point. Being so lost in your own head you got up from your bed, motioning towards your connected bathroom to fix your appearance because you'd be damned if you let yourself be a mess over another person. Except you stop, standing in front of your bathroom door as the strong smell of food hit your nose. Who the fuck?

You don't remember eating anything last night, so you blamed the smell on your hunger, but just as you're about to step fully in your bathroom it hits you stronger until you're already gravitating towards your bedroom door. Opening it, you're met with the sound of your son's giggling. He shouldn't be home yet so how is he inside? Instinct tells you to investigate, rushing down the stairs and seeing the bare backside of a tall man with brown hair sprawled down his neck and shoulders.

”Morning sweetheart.”

Your feet move you forward, eyes a little wide and all. ”But you– how did Isaiah…?”

You can't even finish the question, your voice trailing off as you try to connect the dots. Meanwhile Eren had turned to face you, placing the cooking utensil down from making fried potatoes. ”A lovely woman who looked like you brought him home. Told me I was handsome too.” All you do is scoff while going over to your babbling son, picking him up out of his high chair to hold him.

You didn't mean to stay silent but you're still trying to make it make sense. First you thought he was gone and now here he is cooking you breakfast. Who the hell sent this man to me? ”First of all she lied,” you retorted in an attempt to hide your slight awkwardness. It was Eren's turn to scoff at that. ”Secondly, that was my mother.”

”I guessed that much because she has wonderful taste.” You look him up and down, not being able to hold a wide smile back when you know fully well it was because of the reddish marks on his neck and collarbone. Pretty thing was worrying about me. Eren could tell by how your body language gave you away. You came downstairs tense, but now you look lax.

”I'm assuming you hungry.” He begins motioning to two plates he somehow manages to find in your unorganized kitchen. ”Yes, please I'm starving.”

It's when he begins making your plate that a ring resonates throughout your apartment. Must be mom. You set Isaiah back down in his high chair and went towards the front door, assuming your mother had possibly forgotten to drop off something that belonged to your son since she seemed to do that a lot, so you don't care to make yourself presentable since she's seen you at your worst.

”Ma what you–” You spoke before opening the door, but the last person you expected to see standing there just had to be there. Just fucking had to be. Eren must have somehow known you were just standing there based on your silence, because he came over to stand behind you with his hands in his pockets assuming your mother was standing there. You both couldn't have been more wrong, and you really really wished you were.

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melodygatesauthor · 11 months

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The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

Suggested reading order - Marc -> Steven -> Jake -

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

You've just graduated college and you find yourself developing feelings for your dad's best friend after your graduation party. Three different versions of the same story all with different boys.

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

NSFW, age gap (reader is about 22 - boys are 40), reader is not race-coded, reader graduated college in America but isn't necessarily American, p in v creampie, unprotected sex, dbf trope, oral sex, coercion (sort of on both sides), Jake being Jake, Marc being Marc, Steven being Steven, forbidden relationship, forbidden sex, blowjob, mild bondage, dirty talk, alcohol consumption, car sex, bad puns

Word Count: 9.4k (apparently I can't write anything short anymore)

You got out of the Uber when it stopped in front of your childhood home. Your dad was already waiting for you by the front door, smiling wide. He came over with his arms out, pulling you into a big hug. You grunted from the tight squeeze.

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

“I sweetie.” He let go of you and looked you over. “How was the ride from the airport?” He started taking two of your bags out of the trunk and walking back toward the house with you in tow.

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

“Well, hope you’re not too tired cause there’s a few people here to see you.”

He opened the front door and you were greeted by several relatives and family friends in the kitchen. They all shouted, congratulations! at once, holding up an assortment of beer bottles and glasses of wine. Knowing your dad, the drinking had been going on for a couple of hours before you arrived.

“Thanks everyone,” you said with a big smile, feeling a little shy having all those eyes on you.

You noticed the black and gold, congrats graduate, banner adorning the wall above the table in the dining area. With the initial excitement over, the crowd dissipated and you watched everyone start mingling once again. Your cousins came up to you and started exchanging quick updates on their lives while everyone else chattered around you throughout the house.

“What do you think, huh?” Your dad asked, coming up behind you while you admired the cake in the center of the dining table. He handed you a mixed drink.

“Dad, this is really great. There’s so many people! I really wasn’t expecting this when you said we were having a graduation barbecue. Thought maybe only a couple people would show up.” You looked to see your aunt talking with one of your dad’s friends in the living room.

“You know me better than that. Not everyday your kid graduates college,” he patted your back proudly, “shit, gotta go check the grill. I’ll be right back.”

While he was gone, you watched your aunt and your dad’s friend finish their conversation. You’d known Marc since you were a kid, but it had been a long time since you’d seen each other. He came over to you and held up his beer as if to say cheers. He still looked so rough around the edges, just how you always remembered him. You looked him up and down, trying not to make it seem too obvious.

Has he been working out?

“Congrats. College…wow.” He took a swig off his beer bottle, “all grown up.”

You gave him a nervous giggle, “yeah, I guess.” You felt inexplicably shy all of a sudden, you tried to make small talk, “How have you been? It’s been so long.”

He shrugged, “been keeping busy, staying out of trouble,” he gulped some of his beer down and then looked at you with those brown eyes that seemed to sparkle when the light hit them just right.

You felt your cheeks getting flush for what felt like, at the time, nothing worth getting flustered over. Marc was handsome, anyone could see that, but you’d never looked at him that way. He’d always just been your dad’s best friend. Then again, he’d never looked at you like that. Were you imagining things? He seemed to be sneaking glances at different parts of your body. His eyes trekked over your neck, down to the crevice of your slightly low cut shirt, beyond your denim jeans and finally onto the floor which is when he rubbed the back of his neck like he was nervous.

“Still fixing toilets?” You sipped your drink, trying to change the subject quickly.

“Yeah…well…sort of. I do all kinds of handyman stuff, not just toilets. I also do home inspections.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a business card, handing it over to you.

You read the print and huffed out a laugh at the obvious pun.

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

“It’s dumb I know.” He rolled his eyes, taking another drink.

You raised an eyebrow, “I think it’s clever. Definitely memorable.” Someone called your name from outside, interrupting the casual conversation. “Oh, I gotta go, see you around, Marc.”

“Yeah…you too.”

After several hours and a few drinks later, you were sitting around the firepit with only your dad, one of your cousins and Marc. You remembered the roaring laughter over a dumb joke that Marc made at your expense. You grumbled and gave him the finger. You weren’t actually upset, and had a hard time keeping yourself from bursting out into laughter as well. Marc flipped you off in return and smiled at you. Marc’s smile was so fucking beautiful. Why hadn’t you noticed before tonight how good looking he was? This feeling you had was so wrong…but you wanted him so badly all of a sudden. It had to be the alcohol, that was the only explanation.

A little while later, you were tipsy and felt your eyelids closing involuntarily, no matter how hard you tried to keep them open.

They closed again, and when you opened them this time, it was only you and Marc left around the fire.

Closed again.

You weren’t sure how long you’d been out, but the sudden movement stirred you awake. You were being carried by a set of strong arms. Did your dad come back to get you? No. He would’ve woken you up so you could walk to bed. You wrapped your arms around the man’s shoulders and buried your face in his neck. Marc, you thought.

He smelled warm, like he’d been in the sun all day. Your lips brushed the soft skin there, and you felt a strong sense of comfort wash over you. Alcohol had a way of making you forget to filter your emotions, and right now you were hoping Marc would never let go. You didn’t know why you felt that way. None of it made sense. It’s not like he’d made any sort of pass at you during your growing up, and he had certainly been respectful all night.

So why did you feel like you wanted him to fill you up with everything he had?

It had to be the alcohol. You drank too much, and it was making you feel flirty, and foolish, like you didn’t care about the consequences of any bad decisions you might be inclined to make. Marc sat you down on your bed. You didn’t lay down yet, you just sat there, clutching his shirt so he couldn’t walk away. He grabbed your wrist and looked down at you through his own hooded and intoxicated gaze.

“Marc,” you said softly.

He knelt down, eyes level with yours, “what?”

You looked between his eyes. What did you want from him? Did you expect him to throw away a friendship that was older than you’d been on the planet so that you could fulfill this seemingly random and new feeling? If you would just let go of his damn shirt, he could leave and you would go to bed. It was so simple, but you felt an ache between your legs and a burning desire for him that you couldn’t make sense of.

“Don’t go, please.”

He gave you a gentle smirk, “I have to go to bed,” his smile almost killed you, “you gotta let go of my–”

“Take care of me first…don’t you know what you did to me?”

You were both breathing so heavily, and his eyes kept darting to your lips. You weren’t sure who dove in first, but you both started kissing each other hungrily, motions made sloppier from the alcoholic influence you were both under. Marc continued to claim every moan that left your mouth while you guided his hand down to the waist of your pants. He tucked his thick fingers in and felt between your soaking wet folds.

“Holy shit,” he commented in a breathy rasp, “did I really make you that fuckin’ wet? How long have you felt this way about me?”

“A long time,” you lied.

You always had found him attractive. Objectively speaking, Marc was a good looking man. Regarding wanting to let him take you on every surface in your childhood home? That feeling was brand new to you. Something between the drunken fogginess and the sweet way he carried you changed something in your DNA. You needed him…badly.

All too suddenly, Marc gained a conscience. He pulled his hand free from your pants, and backed away from you quickly. He looked you up and down, running a hand through his hair, eyes plagued with guilt. It was all too clear that this fantasy of yours was over. Whatever this moment was that the intoxication had afforded you, ended with some sense of clarity that tore through Marc.

“No, no.”

That was all he could say, not one word more before he left your room in haste. He didn’t need to say anything else. You knew deep down you were dumb for thinking Marc would actually do anything with you. You knew that was a one-time thing, and that he would want to go about as though it never happened. For your father’s sake, you would take an oath of silence, despite the feelings you were keeping buried deep.

----

The next morning at breakfast, Marc had flat out refused to make eye contact with you. Even when you asked him to pass the orange juice, he kept his head down when handing it to you over the turntable. You scowled when you took it from him, but took the bottle without added drama. Of course you understood that things were awkward, but if he kept treating you like you didn’t exist, that was even weirder. If he thought blatantly avoiding you in front of your dad wasn’t suspicious, he was sorely mistaken.

The moment your father went up to use the bathroom, you took the opportunity to talk to Marc who, at that moment, was clenching his jaw and pretending to look at his phone. The man still used a Motorola flip phone. You couldn’t imagine there was anything very interesting on a phone without internet access, unless he was trying to avoid you deliberately.

“Marc, I’m not going to say anything to him or anyone, but you acting like this is more suspicious than if we fucked on the table in front of him so–”

“Can you please watch your mouth. Don’t say things like that.” He said in a harsh whisper, “I just don’t want to think about it, alright?” His thick Chicago accent always came out when he got irritated.

“I’m fine with that, I just mean…you’re not being very subtle. Just pretend nothing happened and treat me like I exist…please.”

When your dad came back downstairs, Marc seemed to make a better effort to act like he always did around you, and it worked. Even you had a couple moments where you almost forgot that there was something awkward between you two. You kept reminding yourself it was only a kiss, and it was only a kiss, but you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want so much more.

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don’t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it.

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined.

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside.

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

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dev-solovey · 7 months

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Reading up on the history of American Idiot (album) and realizing exactly how revolutionary it was and I just have to yell about it for a hot second

So, before they started working on American Idiot, the band was having problems and they were thinking they were going to break up. But for a couple of reasons, they switched directions, most notably because they all felt strongly about the Iraq War and how it was manufactured by greed and warmongering from the Bush administration, which was amplified by the news media. I read a quote from Billie Joe Armstrong where he talked about how the news media was becoming "more of a reality show" than it was news, and he couldn't have been more right. In fact, that problem got worse, and now we're living in an era of rampant misinformation where everything is politicized to a point where just supporting human rights for marginalized people is considered controversial. The song American Idiot came out in 2004, and when Donald Trump first visited the UK at the beginning of his presidency, it was the top played song on every UK radio station, 12 years after it was released. Most things would be culturally irrelevant at that point.

When creating the album American Idiot, a lot of thought went into it - they had a very specific message in mind, and their goal was to send that message to youth. This is because they realized at some point that their fanbase was a bunch of teenagers, and even though they hadn't necessarily intended it that way, they suddenly had a platform with the youth of America and they decided they ought to do something good with it. The drummer, Tré Cool, said something along the lines of "I've never really liked the idea of preaching to kids, but I realized we don't really have a choice at this point." And I love that so much because like, so many people who get rich and famous just become completely out of touch, and when they get a platform, it's very easy to exploit that platform, influence them with terrible ideas, or encourage them to act in terrible ways for self-serving reasons (ex: JK Rowling, Andrew Tate, Dream, Logan Paul, Onision, etc etc). Green Day refused to allow themselves to get to that point. They know the platform they had gave them power and they made an active choice early on to be responsible with it. And a lot of that moral code comes from the fact that they came up in the DIY punk scene in Oakland, which held its members to a very high standard of ethics, a code that they still follow even after they were disowned by that scene when they signed on with a major record label in 1994.

The song American Idiot has a message of "this mass media hysteria is manufactured bullshit, don't fall for it," and it is not subtle about that message. It punches you right in the face. I remember being 12 years old and listening to it and thinking, "yeah, I don't want to be an American idiot." And now, at the age of 28, I am a staunch leftist who is firmly against the atrocities the US government commits, and I feel strongly about stopping misinformation. So I can say with absolute certainty that they succeeded.

I also get like, really upset when people say that American Idiot is the album where they sold out, because that's objectively not true, both for the reasons I've provided above, and also because of the song Wake Me Up When September Ends. Not a lot of people know the story behind this song, but it's actually a song that Billie Joe wrote about the experience of his dad dying of cancer when he was 10 years old. The story, as he tells it, is that when he came home from school, his mom gave him the news, and being (understandably!) upset, started crying, ran to his room and slammed the door. When she knocked on the door to try and talk to him, he shouted "wake me up when September ends!!" in response. It took him decades to be able to write this song, and it shows because it's the perfect grief song, having been played at benefits for 9/11, hurricane Katrina, and so on. The first time I heard that song it reduced me to tears, because you can hear the intense sadness in it. A "sellout" would never write a song like that!! (Side note: maybe stop tweeting at Green Day to wake up every October 1st, it's super tone deaf given the subject matter,,,)

Anyway, I think I'm done being autistic about Green Day (that's a lie, they'll forever be my special interest), so TL;DR:

Thank you, Green Day, for creating a generation of leftists who aren't about the bullshit

#green day #American idiot #wake me up when september ends #billy joe armstrong #tre cool #mike dirnt #iraq war #bush administration #misinformation #i will die on this fucking hill

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certifiedcodbabygirl · 2 months

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Hear me out. Simon Riley meeting you is Travellin Soldier by Dixie Chicks coded

Like he meets you when he goes back to Manchester for the first time since his family's death and goes to a diner. Reader's the person at the counter and is super sweet. You manage to get a conversation out of him, somehow.

Surprising himself, he asks if you're able to go on an outing with him and you tell him to pick you up after your shift. He supposes it would be a good way to make the visit to his hometown more tolerable. He picks you up and you just walk around town for a few hours. He tells you about how he's in the military and how he keeps to himself. By the end of the night, he asks if he can write to you. He figures you're distant enough to not hurt nothin.

What he wasn't expecting was months of shared stories, and the bond you two grow. He deployed more than before, gone for a couple months at a time. When he's able to, he visits you. The places where he only saw his family in the places they used to go, he now begins to see your smile in them too. You both knew there was something there that isn't purely platonic. The lingering gazes, the eyes flickering down at each other's lips, the hands brushing against each other.

There are nights where you call for hours, secrets and thoughts being shared amongst each other, comforting words being softly said. He doesn't understand how you got to him. How you managed to get through to him. Maybe you were an angel, an apology from God for the misfortune brought upon him. His new light, new family. You were something he never knew he needed and now he can't imagine how he lived before you.

He gets an emergency summon for deployment; told he'd be gone fore nearly 6 months. He told you immediately and promised he'd write. He leaves you with a crushing hug and a kiss on the forehead, a silent promise he'll be back.

There was no communication. He was unable to write, unable to call. He was gone for 5 months, and you had no idea what was going on. Nights with tears rolling down your face, not knowing what happened to your Simon. He became to you what you are to him. Around the 4 month mark with no word from him, you're convinced he's dead. He promised to write. But there's no letter. No call. No Simon. You have no connection to him, on paper. If he did die, there's no way you'd know. He'd be gone into the wind, just as his words.

You carry on, seeing him in everything. In the park, the nighttime when you used to call, the stray cats he always gave you shit for petting.

You were working a 9 hour shift at that little diner, taking someone's order. Time droned on impossibly slow, the clock ticking seeming to taunt you. You automatically greet the next person to walk in, bell above dinging.

"Hi, welcome in, I'll be with you in just a moment" You say, monotone. You turn to the cook window and let him know what the previous order was.

"There any way I can scootch in any sooner?" A deep, familiar voice asks. He sounds so much like your Simon, causing your heart to clench.

"Yeah, just one second, sir"

You hand the cook the ticket and turn back around. Your notepad drops out of your hand, along with your pen, at the sight of Simon standing in the doorway. He didn't even bother to change out of his uniform, coming straight from base to you.

You come out from behind the counter and speed walk to him, throwing yourself into his arms, tears spilling. He hugs you back just as tightly, feeling like he can finally breath for the first time in 5 months.

"How are you here?? I thought you died" You cry into his shoulder, shaking.

"I had no way to get a hold of you, I'm so sorry" He whispers into your hair.

"You came back" You sniffle.

"I promised"

(Lemme know if y'all want a part 2)

#call of duty modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost cod #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mw2 #mw2 ghost #simon riley x reader hurt/ comfort

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hiraya-rawr · 11 months

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so i betrayed you, my love– (2/5)

Xiao Version || Childe Version || Thoma Version || Gorou Version || Ayato Version

synopsis !! Part 2 of “You Were The Enemy All Along” featuring the aftermath of betrayal and confrontation, with more depth to their stories! (Part 1 of each character was also included to make reading convenient.)

contains !! some character lore spoilers / a little violence / dialogue heavy in some scenes / reconciliation but also complicated relationships mending together / cameos of other characters! / might be easier to understand if you knew the lore of the characters

notes !! This was commissioned by the wonderful @mh8 who allowed this to be posted in public for everyone to enjoy! and honestly childe scares me to write bc I've barely written anything for him but I tried to bring out his charm? idk 😭

CHILDE

wc !! 2.4k

The noisiest of them all. He doesn't understand at first, tries to deny it by making jokes. The prank is up, what are you still doing? It's only when your betrayal becomes painfully obvious does he allow himself to laugh. It's ironic to be surprised coming from his line of work. He should really be used to these things.

"If you're this desperate for a fight, you could have just said so," He laughs, "Though, I warn you comrade, I won't hold back this time." It's so easy to drown in the adrenaline of battle and if he doesn't think hard enough, it feels no different than any of your usual spars together. There's a battle crazed look in his eyes at the thought of not holding back with you, but it's odd how numb he feels as Foul Legacy takes over.

Whether or not he wins the fight, the result remains the same; with him lying in the middle of the battlefield, mask still on, staring blankly upwards. He thinks of the abyss he fell into as a child, and briefly wonders when did it all go wrong.

— Before Him

You sighed in relief, a long day of training was finally coming to an end. Dottore was not an easy harbinger to be a rookie under; aside from the harsh training requirements of a Fatui Agent, you also had to deal with a lunatic scientist for a mentor. You were lucky enough to have the doctor more distracted on conducting his experiments rather than training fresh meat like you.

You leaned against a wall. You were in an isolated, snowy village, a mile away from the nearest Fatui training ground. It existed quietly, the villagers were as cold as Snezhnaya in that barren wasteland. You knocked twice on the concrete behind you, then an additional four times, then once more.

“Agent (Name), report.” A voice muffles from behind the wall, a figure you can't see.

“Pulcinella adopted a strange boy. . . He's coded as Childe. They say he fell into the abyss. He's quite strong, we've only sparred once but I know there's something off with him.”

“Hmm. A peculiar new recruit. I've heard from the other agents.” Muttered the figure of the shadows. He doesn't talk much. You know it's to keep identities hidden and to avoid letting you know too much lest you get caught and the information forced out of you (and believe me, the information will be forced out of you).

“You think he could rise in the ranks? Perhaps become a general or diplomat?” You question quietly.

“I think he could be the next Harbinger.”

A sharp intake of breath, surprised. A Harbinger. The next and possibly youngest one after so long.

“Continue your work. Do what you believe is best for our organization. Leave any files you found useful under the gap.” Were his last orders before hearing the footsteps walk away. Work was never easy; you dealt with loneliness most of the time. The only comfort was when an ill-reputed plan of the Fatui failed, knowing it was only possible through your contributions and warnings. For every plan you thwarted was a step closer to revealing your identity and getting killed for it.

Yes, you're prepared. You've been preparing for it ever since you joined the Fatui.

With a sigh, you went back to the training grounds.

— With Him

There’s a reason why Diluc Ragnvindr survived the hunt by the Harbingers when he sought out revenge in Snezhnaya. That should have been the first red flag for Childe. You were transferred early under his platoon, just when he was solidifying his position as a Harbinger. You were the subordinate he sent out to represent the 11th and, having the approval of Dottore (The old geezer, what a wack. Should he really be trusting a mad scientist? Childe questions this everyday) he trusted you enough to do your job.

Yet, the winery-heir-slash-fatui-serial-murderer escaped Snezhnaya with the help of those damned underground pests they've been trying to get rid of. Honestly, Childe could care less about the guy— if anything, he was immensely excited to try and pick a fight with him! But it still hurt his pride that one of his early missions as a Harbinger didn't turn out well. He needed to prove himself to the Tsaritsa after all! If not to at least make Pulcinella proud.

Going back to you.

It was always him and you; you and him ever since you transferred; sparring blade against blade. It was easy to get along when you were one of the only trainees close to his age, even easier when you managed to keep up with him in everything, bloodlust and all.

You were his match and he was yours, or so he believed.

“Say, why did Dottore transfer you anyway? Did you get kicked out, pissed him off somehow?” Childe once asked, boots scraping the ground as he dodges an attack from you flawlessly. Despite Dottore’s rather crazed way of managing his platoon, agents were given a handful of benefits for being under a high ranking Harbinger with a budget larger than the others (Experiments don't pay themselves, you know!).

You huff, a little tired from the onslaught of keeping him entertained in battle, “No, didn't he tell you? I requested for transfer.”

“Oh really? What, did the good looks of a new Harbinger catch your eye?” He teases, going on the offensive once more as he sprints to slash his blade. You block it with yours, trying to push him back with force. When he does pull back, getting pushed a few meters away as hir boots skid on snow, you scoff.

“Good looks? If that were the case, I would have transferred to–”

He immediately sprints ahead again, blade nearly catching you off guard as you block the attack.

“Aww come-” Slash. Block. “-on! Don't tell me you're not-” Kick. Jump. “-even a little bit enraptured by-” Hit. Block. “-me?” He huffs heavily, finally catching your eye as your blade stays on his, pushing each other back with all your strength.

“Hmp. Must you be so arrogant?” You strain out, matching his force before– “Maybe. . . maybe just a little bit.” You avert your gaze at the very moment he catches sunlight in your eyes. Childe pauses, his grip on the blade loosens momentarily at your admittance. You take the chance— kicking his stomach back with force as he skids across the training ground, the sword clattering on the ground.

“Does this mean I won?” You giggle, your weapon still in your hand as he looks at you from where he crouches, a smile on your face.

Maybe it's the butterflies that erupted in his stomach, but he laughs out loud. Childe wonders to himself; Is this the thrill of battle? Or something else? You tilt your head in confusion.

“As if! I haven't even gone all out yet!” He yells enthusiastically, “Agent (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)”

Your smile tenses. Your heart beats. Pensively, you also wonder to yourself; Is this the success of a mission? Or . . . something else?

— After Him .

You should've known.

You should've known, you should've known, you should've known that the Fatui would never have let a betrayal such as yours go so easily. The past few months after him was spent laying low, hiding from daylight and any chance that you could be recognized. A large bounty was on your head and the Fatui weren't cheap by any means. The organization shielded you as much as they could but even you had missions you had to continue fulfilling. You’d gladly risk your life for the better good; after all, if you didn't, you wouldn't have went undercover in the Fatui anyway.

But now, he was chasing you.

It's back to the snowy forests of Snezhnaya, sprinting and dodging all the tall pines in your way. You hear him gaining speed from behind you, hydro blades swishing as they cut through branches, unbothered to waste energy on dodging. Distantly, the sound of a Fatui gunner prepares his shot. You immediately switch directions, a pyro blast landing inches from where you once were. It’s followed by more blasts, each hitting a little closer to you until—

“Ah!”

It grazes your shoulder, blood escaping the wound and soaking your clothes. You don't stop running, adrenaline keeping you alive and conscious. Childe barks something out in Snezhnayan. You’re too distracted with running to understand what he said, but the Pyro Gunner stops shooting and soon enough you focus on escaping.

A clearing appears in your line of sight. A field of snow and endless white and—

Crash! You're knocked off your feet, landing on the snow. You feel him on your back as you quickly force him away, rolling to the side and kicking. It's a blur from there on— a flurry of kicks, punches, scratches, the snow around you forming the most unrecognizable snow angel.

Until his hydro blade was on your neck as he keeps you pinned underneath him. No amount of sparring could've prepared you for a battle to the death with a harbinger. Your breaths fog together with every exhale, the proximity feels bad for your heart but finally, you get a clear view of the face you haven't seen for months.

“I win,” He says, an ever-so-childish grin on his lips, “Any last words?”

It astounds you how casual he is, as if you weren't running for your life just moments ago. Sparring had always been his favorite game but this wasn't like the other times. You do as you were trained (by both the Fatui and your organization)— you keep your mouth shut. Last words are worthless in the face of the enemy, you’d rather bite your tongue off.

“Hmm. . . the (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ) I know would have barked back some words. You would've scoffed.” Childe says, the blade pressing deeper onto your neck, drawing beads of blood to the surface. “Or was that some personality you made up? Was it fun for you?”

Silence.

The smile falls off his face. Something darkens in his eyes. “Alright. You won't talk, that's okay. Anyone who would dedicate their lives living undercover naturally wouldn't respond. I can respect that.” He starts, the blade doesn't move an inch on your skin, the snow numbing more of your back, “But at least answer me this. Not for your organization, not for you. . . answer it for me; was I ever anything to you?”

Silence. Keep quiet.

Something unrecognizable crosses his face. There’s a smile on his lips, but his eyes are pained.

“You know,” He whispers, leaning down closer to you. “Whenever we sparred, did you feel anything? Anything at all?” His face contorts to a mix of frustration, “Because I sure as hell knew I loved you. I can differentiate things, (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.)! I knew what was bloodlust, it wasn't just me being battle hungry. I’m not dumb! I knew— know I love you!”

As if wanting to hide from your gaze, he hides his face on the crook of your neck. Forehead to the snow, blade stilling on your skin. Despite how cold everything is, the warmth of him seems enough to coax you in.

“. . . At least tell me how much of it was real. Please.” He mumbles slowly. Did you mean to cause this much anguish? Did you have to go fall for someone like him?

The words fall from your tongue before you could even catch them. The lack of hesitation, the urge to come clean; “Everything. . . everything was fake. Even my name. (Ņ̸̛͕͔̏̓ͅa̶͍͊m̸̲̫̄͝ȩ̴̹̙̄̀ͅ.). It's fake.”

He freezes over you, listening intently. Snow falls quietly into the ground, you wonder if you'll be buried in— caved to become timeless underneath the ice. Briefly, you think it would be fine if it happens if it's with Childe.

“I know it's hard to trust me, but please— loving you,” Pause. You feel tears well up in your eyes, blinding your vision of the descending snowflakes. “Loving you was real. Is real. It was the realest thing I had in that life under the Fatui. I’m so sorry, Childe, I’m really sorry. And I’m sorry we have to end like this.”

“You mean it?” He asks, hushed.

“Yes, yes, archons I mean it.”

“Then what's your real name?”

Your breath hitches, “(Name).”

“(Name).” He repeats.

The awareness of the metal on your throat becomes all too obvious. Breathing too hard would cause it to press more against your skin. You try to calm down, trying to accept the falling of the snow (the fall of you) as the end of your life nears and suddenly—

the blade is retrieved. You hear the shuffle of leather as it's placed back into its holder. Blinking, bewildered, you glanced up at him only to see his boyish grin.

“You honestly didn't think I'd kill you, right?”

Your mouth falls open. You want to hit him.

“You're going to let me go?”

“I mean, I did kind of let the traveler go back in Liyue.”

“The senior Harbingers reprimanded you for that!” You sit uo, hands flailing as you grab a handful of snow to throw at him. He lets it hit his stomach, laughing.

“It's fine, it's fine! The higher ups don't really care about me as much as they do the others anyway,” He shrugs nonchalantly, “It gives me a whole lot of leeway. If I say I don't want to kill you, they'll just nod along.”

You stare at him longer than you mean to, holding his cheery gaze as the snow continues to settle around you. How quiet and peaceful to exist with him in that space.

“Is this really okay?” You ask and he falls silent with you.

He looks away to the white horizon, speaking in a softer voice, “Well, of course not. You still betrayed me, I still got hurt,” He inhales, “But you love me. I think that's all that really matters, no?”

Tears well up in your eyes. You can't bear to think how close you were to losing your life (losing him) and how easily he pushes your lifelong conflicts aside. So who cares if you played for the opposing organization? Who cares if you struggled with love and truth?

You've faked yourself for so long but Childe would still embrace you, lies and all.

“Come on, the snow must be cold.” He extends his hand, gesturing for you to take it, “Sooner or later the other scouts would be arriving. You should keep running east.”

“Ajax–” You start but he hushes you gently.

“We won't be seeing each other for a while. I don't know when we’d meet again but. . . you know, I’m sure it'll work out if it's us. So don't cry anymore, (Name).”

Stiffly, you nod. It was this moment that you tried to memorize everything about him— his eyes, his ginger hair, the way your name -your real name- falls off his tongue. You replay every sound he made to say such a name, just for the sake of remembering.

“Now go—” He pushes you to the direction, “Don't worry! I won't let them catch the love of my life!” He grins widely, hydro blades appearing in his hands once more as you nod towards him, tear stained smile in response. Your feet take you away, further and further away as you hear the familiar sounds of his blades against his own agents. Icy wind whipping against your face. You can't help the laugh that escapes you, surely the agents would think their blood-crazed superior is in another one of his impulsive moods.

You pity them and envy them all the same.

notes !! thoma is up next, featuring some of our fav inazuma characters <3 ill edit it into a post once my finals settle down (currently cramming in a cafe) I hope you guys liked this one

childe // i really tried to fulfill that he's the more talkative of the bunch! and honestly with childe’s history of forgive and forget, i dont think it's a surprise that he’d easily forgive MC and brush everything under the rug. if anything, he kind of likes the complexity as far as i could tell! by the way, did you like the inclusion of “before him, with him, and after him”? i think it was a poem or a dedication in some book. I really like the thought of it since it's a good way to divide timelines. BY THE WAY do you like the parallels? In part 1, he was left on the snow looking up at the sky. Now in part 2, ur the one on the snow looking up at him :D

#genshin #childe #childe x reader #genshin childe #ajax x reader #genshin ajax #genshin tartaglia #diluc #tartaglia #genshin impact #harbinger x reader #genshin harbinger #fatui harbinger #genshin x reader #genshin angst #childe angst #genshin angst/comfort

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