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strangunddurm · 5 days ago

Text

His

Pairing: Jack Abbot x fem!reader

Word count: 4.5k

Warnings: PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, masturbation, swearing, dirty talk, possessive, toxic behaviour, oral! fem receiving, oral! male receiving, established relationship.

A/N: First The Pitt fic 🥰

“He was her before he saw anything else in the room”

It was you who fell in love with him first. In lust. Infatuation. He had been watching you over the rim of his glass and all it took was that look, that intensity, to have you preening for him. Presenting in heat, just like he wanted.

It didn’t take a lot for you to follow him home, to his apartment that was more clean and pristine than any apartment you had been in before.

It felt as if you had kissed his mouth before, like you had ran your hands over his body and had his cock in you a thousand times. Familiarity.

The way his fingers stroked your walls, brushing against that sweet spot inside of you was sinful. It made your toes curl, head thrown back as your spine curved, the thought of him being the last thing before your eyes fluttered closed.

It was impossible not to love him. To yearn for him every second of every day until you couldn’t imagine even the smallest fragment of anything else. You would throb for him, a need settled deep in your spine that would never truly go away. Insatiable. Impossible to satisfy. A never ending hunger that consumed you and shaped your entire being.

It had been years since then, that first time that would always be as fresh in your memory as if it happened the day before.

You had been happy since then. Nestled into your own bubble of sweet domesticity that you never wanted to end. That never would end. Just you and him until death would inevitably do you appart.

As you grew together, you learned all about him, the most prevalent one being thatJack enjoyed his privacy. You knew it was simple in his eyes. Keeping his work life separate from his private ensured less tangles, less mess, less probability of something going wrong. He didn’t want things to go wrong with you, couldn’t let it happen. So, it wasn’t that he went out of his way not to talk about you to other people. It was just that others not knowing was better than them knowing. In his eyes. He didn’t think there to be anything wrong with that. People had their quirks.

At first, Jack had been operating on a strict need-to-know basis which included only two people. You and him. And then… he didn’t really know how to get the words out to Robby or anyone that he was dating someone young enough to be anything but appropriate. But he didn’t want appropriate, didn’t care for it. Not if it meant he couldn’t be with you. And now, years later, it had become normal for him to avoid mentioning anything that could even cause people to guess his relationship status. You were so sweet on him that you didn’t mind it at all. You knew his reason for it and you loved how protective he could be of you.

And your little arrangement had been perfect, up until you went out with your friends to the same bar he was at with half the ER department after a too hectic shift that he shouldn’t even have worked. It had been natural for him to accept the last-minute invitation, wanting to unwind with a couple of beers as the weather in Pittsburgh was just a tad too cold to enjoy them stagnant on a bench. However, the last minute plans meant that he was not able to become privy of your own last-minute plans, only exchanging short I-Love-Yous over text before locking his phone and following the heard to a bar a few streets over from the hospital. And now, here he was, hours later, forced to watch some fresh-faced intern try to smooth talk his way into your panties.

Jack had spotted you the second he walked into the Irish bar. It had caused him to pause in his steps just long enough for Robby to notice. He had tapped Jack on the back and teased him about being distracted by all the “pretty ladies”. Jack had of course been distracted by you, but it wasn’t for the reason Robby was thinking. Instead of saying anything, Jack had simply laughed it off and taken his seat that was the furthest out in the booth and just so happened to be in the perfect view of you.

It was all going so well. You were enjoying your time spent with your friends and Jack was trying to appear interested in whatever his colleagues were blabbering about. Trying being the operating word.

It was a surprise that the two of you hadn’t found yourselves in this situation earlier. After all, it wasn’t like you never went out at the same time. You would usually have a system in place where one of you would redirect your separate parties to different bars. But maybe this was worth it. Just for a night. Jack loved watching you. It was his favourite way to pass time, like watching a movie he hoped would never end. And you looked so happy and carefree, not a single worry seemed to weigh you down as you threw your head back and laughed at the world.

Your happiness made Jack happy until that wasteful newbie slid into the empty space by the bar next to you. And, of course, you being ever the polite person that you were, didn’t tell him immediately to fuck off, despite the uncomfortable smile that Jack could clearly see on your face. Your friends had abandoned you for the dance floor so there was nobody to do the telling off for you, unfortunately.

He tried to control himself, he really did. He sat in his seat, hand gripping the bottle tighter and tighter until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Whitaker’s taking your girl.” Robby hadn’t meant anything with it. It was obvious to him that Jack was clearly interested in the woman by the bar, he just didn’t know the entire reason why. Robby enjoyed riling Jack up at times, found it entertaining, so it was natural that he would take this chance to do it as well. Jack would usually take it all in stride with his own sarcastic response. Robby hadn’t expected for Jack to stand up in barley concealed anger and march off toward the pair, half-full beer bottle being knocked over in his haste.

“Hey, man! I was just kidding.” Robby called after him, fumbling to get the bottle up right before the entirety of its content was all over him. Jack pretended not to hear him, not even offering a half-assed apology over his shoulder. Getting you away from the intern was his main priority at that moment. Besides, it’s not like Robby would care after Jack bought him another beer later as an apology.

He knew you saw him coming. Your eyes connected with his over the intern’s shoulder, but you continued whatever unimportant conversation you had as if it was nothing. Jack knew it wasn’t entirely your fault. It was that still-wet-behind-his-ears intern that insisted on staying and talking to you despite your obvious disinterest. Whitaker was oblivious and you were sweet. But did you enjoy playing games with him? You could’ve at least acknowledged his presence in some minor way, didn’t he deserve that at least?

"Dr. Abbot-"

“Beat it.” The worlds flew out of Jack’s mouth before he, himself, could even consciously think about what to say. The intern opened his mouth, no words came out but it was enough for Jack to level him with that typical Jack Abbot glare for him to make himself scarce.

“Didn’t you see me?”

“Hello to you, too.” The smile on your face was sweet and lovely and Jack almost caught himself smiling at you in return. It was so easy for you to make him forget whatever mood he found himself in. Being around you automatically made everything better in his opinion.

“I didn’t know you were going out.”

“Well, you never came home so I assumed you were still busy at work. I sent you a text.” Jack flinched slightly, he had read it but hadn’t had the chance to reply before he was pulled away by an incoming head injury, but he could see that you didn’t hold any resentment against him, it was merely a statement. It wasn’t unusual for Jack to get so lost in the Pitt that he would forget to phone home to you. He always tried to, of course, but minds tend to get lost in whatever overwhelming flow of information they were the recipients of every now and then. It was a quality he sometimes wished he didn’t have.

“Sorry about that, kid.” Jack looked down at you with a tight-lipped smile and a scratch on the back of his head, feeling sheepish.

“No need to apologise. I’m glad to see you enjoying yourself.” You patted his chest affectionately before glancing over his shoulder to where he had been sitting before. Robby was watching the two of you like a hawk with a glee-filled grin on his face. He sent you a wave that would’ve probably caused you to turn the other way and flee if you didn’t already know Jack.

“Your friends are watching us.”

“Are they now?” Jack was completely uninterested in the observation. “What did that guy want?”

“What guy?” You were playing stupid with him.

“Please don’t.” Now wasn’t the time for teasing in Jack’s opinion.

“He wanted to take me home and ‘treat me right’.” Whitaker was definitely more inebriated than he had first thought. You let out a soft giggle as you relayed what the guy had said to you. You hadn’t taken anything of it seriously seeing as you were very much happy with the man you were in a committed relationship with. You just entertained the guy for less than five minutes as you knew Jack had been watching you. Maybe it was an unhealthy aspect of your relationship but you enjoyed seeing Jack get a bit worked up whenever a person would hit on you.

“I hope you told him to fuck off.” Jack’s hand had slowly crept to your hip whilst you had been talking, grabbing a possessive hold of it, urging you just a bit closer to him.

“I didn’t,” If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve thought that Jack was half wolf at that moment from the almost animal-like growl that tore its way through his chest. “I told him that my boyfriend would tell him that.” So, you weren’t completely out to give him a heart attack.

“Good.” Jack was just about to stoop down and place a kiss on your lips when your hand on his chest and a turn of your head stopped him.

“And just what do you think you are doing?” You tilted your head toward his colleagues to hint at the fact that you were definitely being watched.

“Kissing you?”

“Are you sure you want to do that right now?”

“Definitely.” And kiss you he did. Jack always kissed you like it was the only thing that could keep him from dying, like your kiss and your lips were his saving grace in life. You kissed him back just as eagerly, letting out a delighted moan as he bit down on your bottom lip.

“Do you want to get out of here?”

“Absolutely.”

You didn’t get far. It’s not like either of you could drive home in the state that you were in and calling a cab to come and pick you up would take too long. Jack was desperate to have you. Seeing another man hitting on you had awoken some animalistic urge inside of him and he was ready to rip the clothes off your back and mount you.

Jack needed to feel your sweet, silky walls wrapped around him as he came deep inside of you. He wanted to mark you up so that every single man, woman, and other in the entire state of Pennsylvania knew that you belonged to him. You were his and no one else's.

There was an alley just behind the bar where you were at. Of course, Jack thought you always deserved better than to be fucked in some back alley, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do. Plus, it was so secluded that not many people knew about it and it wasn’t exactly a place that saw a lot of foot traffic.

Jack pressed you up against one of the brick walls, looming over you as he kissed your cheek, down your neck, sucking very lightly before you delivered a smack to his chest.

“Don’t. I don’t want any visible marks.”

“Too bad.” You let out a sigh of defeat and Jack could almost hear the eye roll that you surely made. You were a stubborn person but so was he. You knew that sometimes he would only listen so much to whatever you were telling him.

The bricks were uncomfortable against your back but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You were far too lost in the small ripples of pleasure that were begging to turn to waves.

“Jack...” You breathed out as he hit one of your weak spots with his lips. He nibbled at your skin softly, his moustache and beard tickling your skin in that way you loved.

“I should put a ring on your finger so everyone knows you’re taken.” You let out a laugh over his mutterings. You would love a ring on your finger, but you didn’t need a ring to feel secure in your relationship with Jack. You already knew that it would be the two of you until the very end.

“Maybe a baby in your belly, too. To make it extra clear.” Now that made you moan.

“You’d like that? You want me to fill you up until you can’t take it anymore? You want me to give you a baby?” Your drenched walls clenched around nothing as Jack drove you insane with his words.

“If you’re a good girl, I’ll let you take my cum, but you have to be good for me. Can you do that?”

“Yes! Please, Jack...” Your hips bucked, seeking any sort of friction to ease the ache in your panties. The throbbing between your legs had steadily grown and had now reached a point where you could not ignore it.

Jack rutted his own hips against yours and you couldn’t help but let out a desperate moan as he rubbed against your clit deliciously.

"You want me to fuck you, sweet girl?"

"Mhmm."

Jack loved hearing you moan for him. He loved hearing the delightful squeals you would emit as he would nip on your breasts or finger you to his knuckle. He couldn’t wait to see himself leak out of you after he came so deep inside of you and fucked you so good that you would feel him for days, if not weeks.

"How badly do you want it?." Jack wanted to hear you beg. He liked hearing it, it made him even harder than he already was when you would plead for his cock.

“So badly. I need you to make me cum on your cock. Please, Jack!” You squealed in shock as he attacked your lips, devouring yours like he was a man starving. Jack was insatiable when it came to you. Biting and pulling and pecking at your lips, trying to sate the need he had for you in any way that he could. His tongue explored your mouth with a delighted moan, and you grew wetter with every wet kiss.

Jack’s hands made quick, steady work on your dress, pushing and pulling at it until it was bunched around your waist just high enough so that he could slip his hand into your panties and finally get a feel of your wet heat.

“So wet for me already, sweetheart?” A lewd grin took over his face as he ran two fingers through your slit. “Are you that desperate?”

Jack dipped his fingers into you just enough so that you could begin to feel a hint of the stretch he could give you, but not enough to please any desire.

“What do you want first? My cock or my mouth?” Waves went straight to your core as you pulled on his dark hair as you tried to not lose yourself to the overwhelming pleasure of it all too soon. How could you possibly decide?

“Anything, I’ll take anything.” You moaned out.

Jack made the decision for you, moving quickly as he dropped to his knees in front of you, not giving a fuck about the ache in his leg after a too-long shift. Didn't care about anything else in that moment except needing to get a taste of you. He was perfectly in height with your cunt, breathing hot air onto it from how close he was. He began by leaving kisses on the inside of your thighs. They were slow kisses, those kinds of kisses that you would still feel, even after his lips left your skin.

His hands caressed every inch of you that they could reach as before trailing all the way to the edge of your panties and sliding them to the side. He focused on your clit, giving it a quick rub and flick, eliciting another soft whine from you.

“You have such a pretty pussy, honey.” Jack could admire you like this for centuries and still not get enough. He would happily stay on his knees for you until the end of time.

He, rather sweetly, brought your leg over his muscular shoulder so that he could devour your seeping cunt. The obscene sounds of his wet tongue laving through your soaked folds quickly filled the quiet alley, but you could bring yourself to care if a passer-by happened to hear you. Jack’s ministrations on your pussy felt far too good to care about anything else at that moment.

“Fuck, Jack!” Your voice came out as a half whine as the bricks of the building dug into your back while you writhed in euphoria.

“You taste so fucking good, sweetheart. Been waiting for this all day.” Jack mumbled against your clit, sending glorious vibrations through the sensitive flesh. You could feel his tongue slipping into your clench hole, lapping up every single drop of juice that you were kind enough to give him.

“Oh, right there, don’t stop!” Your hands slipped into his hair, tugging at it as your thigh muscles twitched when he sucked on your clit.

“Who does this belong to?” Jack brought his pointer and middle finger to your lower lips, spreading them apart and exposing more of your oh so sensitive clit to his unrelenting mouth.

“You, Jack! Only you.”

Your hips bucked violently as he slid a finger into you. “Your pussy’s so greedy, sweetheart. You want my cock already?”

“I-” You didn’t know what you wanted at that moment. Didn’t care, as long as it brought you pleasure, you would be the grateful recipient of whatever he wanted to give you.

But Jack was determined. He was a man on a mission, practically driven mad by his insatiable hunger for you. Jack loved eating pussy, and it showed in every movement, every lick of his tongue, every suckle of his lips.

“I’m so close, Jack!” You squeaked, chest heaving as you glanced down. Jack’s eyes were shut, his wrist twisting and steadily pumping a finger in and out of you, curling it to graze against your g-spot with every move whilst he suckled and licked your clit.

“Mmm, not yet. One more minute, I’m not done.” Jack slid his finger out before grabbing your thigh firmly with one hand, his wet fingers digging into your flesh as he held your leg still for him. You were squirming, legs shaking as you fought your release.

“Please, Jack! I need to come!” Your whole body was burning, your back arched almost painfully as the pleasure kept building and building, his tongue endlessly flicking your swollen clit.

“Alright, honey, come. Come all over my fucking face,” he growled out. One, two, three more swipes of his tongue over your clit and you finally came. A half-scream barreled through the alley as your legs shook and your hands tightened almost painfully hard in the curls of his hair. Your muscles clench, thighs clamping around his shoulders as he continued sucking, licking, and nibbling over your sensitive flesh.

“Fuck, honey, so good. Such a good girl for me.” He hummed, delivering one last, long and slow lick from your entrance to your pubic bone. He kissed your clit before standing back up, wiping his mouth somewhat clean with the back of his hand as he watched you in bliss.

You were utterly breathless, slumping against the wall as your muscles twitched as the cool air hit your pussy.

Jack barely let you recover before he made quick work on his cargo pants, dropping them down just enough so that he could pull out his painfully hard and leaking cock.

You fell to your knees almost automatically, mouth-watering at the sight of him. You didn’t care about the uncomfortable gravel under your knees, needing to have a taste of him.

Your hands came up to rest on his thick thighs as you lurched forward, taking a hold of his thick shaft. You fisted his length, spreading the small bead of pre-cum over his tip with a thumb when you came to the top. You had always marvelled at the sight of him. He was so impossibly thick, your hand barely being able to wrap around him, but yet he fit so perfectly inside of you.

"Open your mouth."

You eagerly opened your mouth to take him in, letting your lips wrap around his shaft and eagerly took him in your mouth. You moaned at the taste of him and he groaned at the sight of you on your knees. Your eyes were wide and glossy, completely hazed with lust. Your mouth was hot around him, your soft moans slipping out around him.

Jack takes a steady hold on the back of your neck, guiding you firmly as you took him deep in your mouth. As dominant as his hold was on you, he still let you set the pace. You went slowly at first, teasing him as you took him in your mouth for several bobs of your head before increasing your pace. You forced your head down the length of his shaft, making you gag around him as he hit the back of your throat.

Jack had the most beautiful cock you had ever seen. It was long and thick with one perfect vein protruding from the base of it all the way to the tip that always seemed to be glistening with evidence of his arousal. It had just the right curve to reach the place where you needed him the most.

“You’re so fucking cock drunk, aren’t you, honey?”

You moaned in response. Moaned over the salty taste of his precum that set your tastebuds alight, humming in appreciation as you took him even further in your mouth, hand wrapped around the base of him, squeezing and twisting whatever you couldn’t fit. He grew impossibly harder with every suckle of your lips.

Slurping and sucking the way you knew he liked it; your throat welcoming him with each uncontrollable rut of his hips.

“That’s it, right there.” Obscene gulping sounds filled the evening air that surrounded you. Your jaw was aching and globs of saliva were spilling out around the edges of your mouth as Jack rutted into your mouth.

You bobbed your head back and forth, pushing bubbles of dribble farther down his shaft with each drive of your swollen lips.

The throbbing between your legs was almost painful at that point. Your hand travelled down your body to the apex between your thighs to relieve some of the pleasurable pain. But Jack stopped you before you could even slip your fingers into your panties. He grabbed ahold of your arm, pulling you up as softly as he could and swivelling you around as he tutted.

“You know the rules; no touching yourself allowed,” Of course, you knew the rules, but you were just so wet and ready for him that something had to be done. “But you’re just so fucking desperate? Aren’t you? Desperate for me to fuck you in this filthy alley.”

Jack tugged at his cock with one hand while the other pushed at your back so that you would bend over. You were more than happy to comply, hands coming out to brace yourself against the wall and jut your ass out, high up in the air.

His touch was electric as he slid his large hand over your ass, leaving a trail of burning fire in its wake. It tickled your skin as it made its way between your tender thighs, fingers gently sliding through your soaked lips.

Your walls clenched tightly over his teasing; your hips wiggling to try and get him to slip at least a finger into you. Jack knew what you were doing.

Jack dipped two fingers in between your lips, spreading more of your wetness up to your clit.

“You’re always so wet for me.” Jack praised in admiration. “Always so tight.” You could feel the tabs of his fingers dragging through your walls lazily.

Jack slid his fingers out, bringing them up and having a taste of you, suckling your juices off of them.

“Taste so fucking sweet.”

You were just about to beg him to fuck you when he finally slipped the head of his fat cock inside of you. However, he pulled out before you could savour the feeling, and you cried out over the loss.

“You want me? Want me to show you who you belong to?” He cooed before doing it again; sliding the head of his cock in just enough for you to feel the burn as he stretched you out before pulling back out again.

“Yes, please!” Jack was kind to you as he finally let you have it. He finally sheathed himself deep inside of you with one sharp and precise thrust that had you gasping and squeaking.

Jack didn’t give you any time to adjust, not that you really needed it with how wet you were for him. He pulled back before sliding himself back inside of your heat, shuddering at the feeling of your dripping pussy clinging to every inch of him. He didn’t start off slow; instead, he set a rapid pace, balls slapping against your clit with every thrust, but he still made sure that you could feel all of him.

Your pussy gripped Jack’s cock with every deep thrust he gave, missing him for the fraction of the second that he pulled back.

“Fuck, you feel so fucking good,” Jack growled behind you, fingers digging into your hips as he drove into you harder. You clamped down on him as he hit that spot that he knew so well.

“Fuck, Jack, I’m gonna come.” You breathed out, tits bouncing with each thrust.

Your words made Jack drive into you even harder and deeper, chasing your high for you.

“Not yet.” Jack knew you were just teetering on the edge of pleasure, he could feel it, but he wanted to prolong it for just a little while longer.

“N-no! Please, Jack!” You whimpered out a plea.

“Please, what?”

Thrust.

“Please, let me come, sir!”

Thrust.

Jackp hummed as if he was thinking it over, teasing you. “Wanna feel that cunt milking me as I shoot that cunt of yours full of cum.” You barely heard him over your moans, but your pussy definitely registered his words as your walls fluttered wildly. “Gonna make sure everybody knows who you belong to.”

You would surely feel him for days, with every step you took, from the force he was fucking into you with. Your mind had gone faint from his quick and sharp thrusts. A feeble whine escapes you and you were sure you would cry if he didn’t let you cum soon.

Jack delivered a quick slap to your left cheek and you hissed from the sting. The burn left behind momentarily distracts you from the building pressure in your stomach.

“You gonna cum for me now, honey?” Jack slammed into, the tip of his member repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you. And you came with a whine through white flashes of euphoria when you felt the pads of his fingers drawing tight circles over your aching clit.

Your entire body convulsed in pure rapture and you could hear Jack behind you endlessly muttering fuck as your clenching walls triggered his own sweet release.

He pumped into you lazily a few more times, making sure to milk himself completely dry before withdrawing from you. Your legs were still shaking uncontrollably, toes curled as the last few waves of pleasure rolled over you. You slumped against the wall, face pressed against the cold brick as you tried to catch your breath.

“Fucking hell, Jack.” Sex with Jack was always glorious, but something about this fuck had been extra special.

“I really mean it. I’m going to have to keep fucking you until your belly’s so swollen that everybody can see who you belong to.”

Jack didn't regret a moment of that night. Not even when he saw the shit-eating grin on Robby's face when he sheepishly walked into The Pitt the next day.

"You never told me you like 'em that young."

#jack abbot #jack abbot x reader #jack abbott x reader #jack abbot x you #jack abbot smut #Jack abbott smut #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt max #jack abbott fanfic #jack abbot fanfic

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keraawrites · 2 months ago

Text

Don't play wit' me

Summary: Dealer Eren AU, Eren doesn't play when it comes to you, and you loved how you had him wrapped around your finger. So when you don't get your way one day, no one can blame you for being a tad bit bratty. ۶ৎ Eren x black fem reader ۶ৎ

Context: Drug use, use of the word nigga, tongue piercing, tattoo's, alcohol use, bratty reader, rough sex, oral (m&f), chocking, unprotected sex (wrap it up guys x), pole dancing, degrading, use of word daddy, ma, mama, public sex (?)

Word count — 5.7k

You couldn't help the small smile that tugged on your brown-stained lips as you watched your man put a gun to some bum ass nigga's head for calling you out of your name.

Everyone who knew Eren knew you. He was the biggest dealer around, not only for his top product but for the fact that he had such great referrals. Eren didn't like strangers until they were vetted by him, Levi, and Connie, so it was strange that Jean had recommended someone to him, but it was even stranger that he let it slide without any background check.

Maybe it was because he was in a good mood after you took his dick in your mouth ten minutes earlier.

You often went along with Eren to his drops and to the trap, so it wasn't strange to see you prancing around. As you were friendly with his boss and the rest of his friends, Eren had no problem bringing you.

But there was a little hiccup. Jean.

Eren never really considered him a friend—God knows why—but he did sell to him, so when Jean brought a guest with him to the trap, all hell broke loose when said nigga called you the trap whore and asked when he could have a turn with you.

The room went silent. Eren’s head snapped toward the guy so fast, before anyone could even process what happened, he had the barrel of his Glock pressed right between the dude’s brows, his jaw tight, emerald eyes glinting with a rage that was barely contained.

"Say that shit again," Eren’s voice was eerily calm, too calm.

Jean took a step back, hands raised. "Eren, chill, bro—"

"Nah, fuck that." Eren cocked the gun, pressing it harder into the guy’s forehead. "You think you can just walk up in here, talk on my girl, and walk out breathing?"

The guy stammered, sweat beading along his hairline. "I-I ain't mean it like that, man—"

"Oh, you ain’t mean it like that?" Eren mocked, tilting his head. "So what the fuck did you mean?"

The whole room held its breath. Even Levi, usually unbothered by anything, shifted slightly in his seat, arms crossed as he watched the scene unfold. Connie, sitting a few feet away, shook his head with a low chuckle.

He continued to stammer, his tough-guy act completely squashed under Eren’s glare. You sighed, arms crossed, tapping your nails against your thigh as you watched the scene unfold. This wasn’t new. Eren never let disrespect slide, especially when it came to you.

Levi finally spoke up, voice dry. "Eren, we got business to handle. Ain't no point wasting a bullet on some dumbass who won't live long in this game anyway."

Eren didn’t move immediately, his trigger finger twitching slightly. You could tell he was debating it. You wouldn’t stop him if he pulled it—you knew how he was.

Still, you sighed dramatically, shifting in your seat. “Renny,” your voice was soft, lilting, deliberately sweet.

Eren’s shoulders dropped slightly at the sound of your voice. He let out a short breath through his nose before taking a slow step back, lowering the piece.

"Get the fuck out," Eren muttered, voice still deadly.

The guy didn’t need to be told twice. He stumbled back, practically tripping over himself as he bolted out the door. Jean lingered for a second, giving you and Eren an unreadable look before following after him.

Eren turned to you, jaw still tight, but his eyes softened just a little. "You good?"

You smirked, reaching up to brush a thumb across his jaw. "Of course. My man handled it."

He let out a small, satisfied hum, pulling you in close, fingers curling around your waist. "Damn right I did."

You leaned in, voice a low whisper. "Still owe me for leaving me hanging earlier."

Eren chuckled, pressing a slow kiss against your lips before murmuring against them, "I’ll make it up to you, baby. In every way you want."

That's how it was. Eren didn't play when it came to you. You want a fresh set? He'd give you more than enough money. You want a new coach bag? He gives you his black card and tells you to go nuts. You want some dick? He'll stop what he's doing and has you crying on his cock before you can think.

So yeah, three years with the man has made you endlessly spoiled—you always got your way.

Your brows were furrowed as you looked down at the text that lit your screen. You were confused, very confused.

'Have to rain check on our date ma, gotta deal with some shit'

You blinked, your fingers hovering over the keyboard—you were a little confused, not knowing how to respond to something you weren't used to.

You pressed the ringer next to his name before you could think. You could hear it ring for a while, anger starting to bubble in your chest, thinking he wasn't going to answer your call.

"Ma, I cant talk—“

You cut him off before he could finish. "What do you mean you have to reschedule?"

You could hear music and shouting in the background but you didn't care, "I got shit to deal with, I'll take you out tomorrow--“

"Eren, no," you snapped, your body shifting in your shared oversized bathtub, your nails tapping against the sides, "I don’t wanna go out tomorrow. I gotta help Mikasa with some shit so I want to go out today, like you promised."

He sighed on the other end. "Ma, don’t start—"

"Don’t start what? Getting upset that my man is ditching me? After I just had a bath with all those essential oils that you like? Had my hair done, nails fresh, bought a tight ass dress that you said would make my ass like fat? And for what? A damn rain check?"

You heard him exhale sharply. "You know I don’t wanna do this, baby, but shit came up. Business. You know how it is."

"Nah, what I know is that I always come first." Your tone was laced with attitude, lips pouting even though he couldn’t see it.

He was quiet for a second, and you could picture him rubbing his temple, jaw clenched. You didn’t care. Eren never told you no. He always made time. So the fact that he was choosing not to right now? Unacceptable.

"Ma—"

"Nope," you interrupted, shifting again as the bubbles rose, your fingers pulling a fresh blunt off your bath table, voice turning syrupy sweet but still full of attitude. "I get it. You got 'shit to deal with.’ So I’ma go find something else to do too.

"Oi--"

"Byeeee." You hung up the phone, kissing your teeth, you watched as he tried to call you again, knowing he hated it when you cut him off.

You continued to ignore him as you sent Historia and Sasah a text asking if they were still going to the club. The two quickly hit you back with a yes and said they'd swing by to get you in 40 minutes.

You were glad your makeup and hair were already done, you set your bath knowing you liked the dewy look it gave your freshly beat face.

You sighed as you took a drag from the freshly lit blunt that sat between your fingers, letting the smooth smoke curl around your lips before exhaling.

The sound of your phone buzzing again caught your attention, your eyes darting down to the last text you knew Eren would send you for the night.

'Don't play with me'

You felt the hum of the weed running through you as a small smirk pulled on your lips. You opened the message, letting him know you had read it before locking your phone.

By the time you stepped out of the bath, the weed had settled into your bloodstream, leaving you warm and buzzing. The bathroom mirror was fogged up, but you could still see the outline of your figure as you slipped into a dangerously low-cut silver dress that showed off your spine tattoo, the fabric hugging your curves like it was made for you.

Biting your lip, you took a quick selfie, your fingers placed gently on your neck, purposely showing off your ring finger that had his name tatted across. Hearing the honk of a car, you licked your lips as you quickly made a post to Instagram, tagging your man before you grabbed your clutch and waltzed out the front door.

C'mre daddy.

The club was already packed when you walked in with Historia and Sasha, neon lights bouncing off your skin, the bass of the music thrumming deep in your chest as you made your way through the crowd.

You were playing with fire; you saw the look of recognition in the bouncer's eyes as he noticed you. You could see the hesitation in him, but with a raised brow, he let you through. You knew Eren would know where you were the minute you stepped into his club.

Yes, his club.

Annie and Ymir were already in the VIP section, waiting, drinks in hand. Annie, ever the minimalist, had on a fitted two-piece, gold jewelry catching the light as she raised her glass in greeting. Ymir, sprawled lazily on one of the couches, smirked at her blonde girlfriend, squeals leaving her lips as she practically pounced on the short-haired brunette.

“About time,” Ymir teased. “Figured Eren had you locked up somewhere.”

You rolled your eyes, plopping down beside her. “Boy’s acting up tonight. Fucking cancelled on me so here I am--"

"You mean he told you no, so now you're in his club, knowing he probably already knows you're here?"

You smirked, your tongue running along your teeth, the cool metal of your piercing clinking with your pearly whites. Your fingers ran against the rim of the shot glass before downing the tequila.

"Exactly, so let me go shake my ass."

Eren continued to faze out the stupid argument between Connie and Armin as he lazily rolled a blunt between his fingers. He wasn’t paying them much attention; his focus was on his phone, eyes scanning through messages from his men.

At first, he thought he had read it wrong.

Then another text came through.

And another.

"Yo, your girl just walked into the club."

Eren’s brows furrowed.

Nah. No way.

There was no way that you were acting out all because he had to reschedule. Actually, scratch that, that is exactly what you were doing, and he knew he should have seen it coming.

His jaw clenched, his fingers flexing around his phone as more messages popped up.

"She came with Historia and Sasha." "VIP spotted her with Annie and Ymir."

Eren’s grip on his blunt tightened. He was already annoyed as it was—you had hung up on him earlier, ignored his text and calls, and now? You were out, in his fucking club, acting like he wasn’t going to find out?

Armin must’ve noticed the sudden shift in his demeanor because he leaned in. "Something wrong?"

Eren didn’t respond right away, instead unlocking his phone and scrolling through Instagram. He had a feeling—one that was confirmed the moment he saw your post.

"C’mere, daddy."

That picture. That fucking picture.

Your smooth, dark skin glowing under the dim light of your shared bedroom, the silver dress clinging to your curves like it was made for you, the way you placed your fingers just right to show off the tattoo of his name across your ring finger.

Eren’s nostrils flared. His tongue ran across his teeth, that little muscle in his jaw ticking.

Oh, you were real bold tonight, huh?

Armin, still waiting for an answer, gave Eren a skeptical look. "Eren? What is it?"

Eren exhaled sharply, his voice rough. "She’s at the club."

Armin rubbed his temple. "Shit. Annie told me the girls were going out, but she never mentioned—" He trailed off, eyes darting to Eren’s phone. His brows lifted as he took in the post. "Oh."

Eren didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. He picked up his keys, and the two followed right behind him.

Connie was grinning like a cat got milk in the back, windows rolled down as he continued to smoke. The speakers blaring with some rap song Armin put on but Eren couldn't care about those two, he was thinking how he was gonna spank your ass raw for acting like a spoiled brat.

He pulled up to the club not that long after; it was no surprise, given how fast he was speeding. Connie dapped the bouncer, but Eren was already pushing through bodies as he entered the club. The atmosphere was thick—sweaty bodies grinding to the heavy bass, flashing neon lights casting everything in deep shades of red and purple.

His eyes scanned the VIP section, his gaze falling on Ymir and Annie. He was getting ready to barge over to them, but he felt it. He felt you.

The green hue of his eyes scanned the crowd until it landed on the cheering crowd, whistling, roaring men, their greedy hands throwing cash towards the stage.

His body went rigid.

He was going to kill you.

Eren’s breath stilled in his chest as his gaze locked onto you, his entire world narrowing down to the sight before him.

You moved with a kind of confidence that made his stomach twist, muscles flexing as you spun around the pole, the silver dress clinging to your curves like a second skin. The fabric barely covered your ass as you dipped low, teasing, taunting, daring.

Eren’s jaw ticked, his hands curling into fists at his sides.

The brunettes jaw clenched, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He could hear Connie mutter a "Goddamn" under his breath, and even Armin, usually the most composed of the three, shifted uncomfortably.

Eren moved slowly, ignoring the two who probably ran off to find their perspective women as he continued to watch you. He wasn't a bitch, but if you could describe what he was feeling it was fucking love, love and hate.

His stomach was a wreck as you worked that pole like you owned it. Eren never forgot how much he loved you even when you pissed him off like today and watching your perfect self make other men hard was how he loved you the most.

He watched as your dark skin gleamed under the dim lights, muscles flexing and moving with every precise motion. You twisted, arching your back just right as your hands traced down your body. Your hips rolled, slow and seductive, before you spun again, gripping the pole with ease, confidence dripping from every movement.

Your eyes—half-lidded, sultry—flicked up, scanning the crowd.

His lips pulled, your gazes locked. His arms crossed as he continued to watch you, noticing the slight hesitation in your movement but you didn't stop.

Eren inhaled sharply through his nose, his patience hanging by a fucking thread.

The music was pounding, the crowd cheering, money leaving the hands that reached toward you, but Eren didn’t hear or see any of it.

All he saw was you.

The way you dropped down, ass nearly touching the floor before rising back up, body winding like you were made of liquid.

The way your fingers ran down the length of the pole before wrapping around it again, your tongue swiping along your lips, that teasing little expression still in place.

You watched as he started pushing through the crowd, having had enough of your game, so you thought, why not double down.

Your leg curled around the pole, the cheers loud, your ass facing the crowd as you began to give the crowd a little twerk. The roar of the men around you—the way their hands stretched toward you like they had a fucking chance—

The hem of your dress flapping against your ass was what set him over the edge— well it could have been a number of things but before you knew it you had been dragged off the stage.

The boos of the crowd was drowned out as Eren's tatted hand held a firm grip, almost brusing grip on your wrist as he pulled you towards his back office.

You stumbled slightly as he dragged you through the club, your heels clicking against the floor, but he didn’t let up, didn’t speak, didn’t fucking look at you.

You bit your lip, hiding the smug little grin threatening to form. Oh, he was mad.

But you weren’t stupid. You could feel the heat rolling off him, the tension in his muscles, the way his fingers flexed against your skin.

The moment he kicked open the door to his office and yanked you inside, Eren slammed the door shut, pushing you up against it before you could get a word out. His hands braced on either side of your head, his chest rising and falling in deep, heavy breaths.

You tilted your chin up, refusing to break eye contact, that bratty little smirk still playing on your lips. "Something wrong, daddy?"

His nostrils flared. "Don’t fucking start with me."

"Start what?" You batted your lashes innocently, running your hands up his chest, feeling how his muscles tense under your touch.

A soft moan left your lips, his tattooed ring-clad hand had wrapped around your throat, you continued to stare up at him, watching the muscles in his jaw tighten, your pussy clenched around nothing as you noticed how dark his eyes got—how angry he was.

Fuck.

"You wanna act up just cause I told you no? I spoil you too god damn much." His voice was low, dark, dripping with restrained hunger.

A whine left your lips, his thumb rubbing against your lips"You always give me what I want, Renny." Your eyes never left his as your lips wrapped softly around the tip of his thumb.

You could barley make out the 'fuck' that he muttered under his breath, eyes hooded, watching the way your soft lips moved. Eren’s jaw clenched so tight you thought it might shatter. His thumb pressed down against your tongue, the cool feel of your piercing rubbed against the ridges on his thumb. He watched the way your soft lips wrapped around it, the way your warm mouth sucked just enough to send all the blood in his body rushing straight to his dick.

His grip on your throat tightened, forcing your head back against the door as he leaned in, his breath hot against your lips.

"I do always give you what you want, don’t I? Treat you like a fucking queen." His voice was low and rough. "That why you think you can get away with this shit?"

Your lashes fluttered, your hands smoothing up his chest, nails grazing over the tattoos on his arm. Your birthday in Roman numerals.

"You don’t tell me no," you whispered, your lips brushing against his thumb as you spoke. "So I don’t know why you thought you could start today."

Eren exhaled sharply, his hand leaving your throat only to grab your chin, tilting your head further back. His eyes burned into yours, that sharp emerald gaze swimming with a hunger that had your thighs pressing together.

"You know what your problem is, ma?" His fingers slid down, his knuckles grazing your pulse. "You think you run this shit. Think you can act up, go out, put on a little fucking show—"

His voice dropped lower, more dangerous.

"—and I won’t remind you exactly who you belong to."

Your breath hitched, pussy throbbing at the way he was looking at you, at the way he was speaking to you.

"You should," you whispered, lips barely brushing against his. "Remind me, I mean."

Eren growled.

His hands were on you in an instant, gripping your waist, spinning you around so your front pressed against the cold surface of his desk. His fingers curled around the back of your neck, pressing you down slightly, just enough to make you shiver.

"You wanna be a fucking brat?" he muttered, his other hand dragging your dress up your thighs, exposing more and more of your soft, glistening skin. "Act up just to get my attention?"

You smirked against the desk, arching your back slightly. "Worked, didn’t it?"

Eren smacked your ass, hard.

A gasp ripped from your throat, your fingers curling against the desk as your skin burned from the contact.

"Yeah," he murmured, smoothing a palm over the spot he just hit before landing another sharp slap, making you whimper. "Worked real fucking good."

His lips brushed against your ear, his breath warm, sending chills down your spine.

"You just love making me mad, huh, baby?" His fingers dipped between your thighs, sliding against the damp lace of your panties, pressing right against the spot that had you trembling.

You couldn’t fucking speak, not when his fingers were right there, not when he was teasing you like this, his voice deep and smug, knowing exactly what he was doing to you.

"You’re soaked," he hummed, slipping a single finger under the fabric, gliding it through your wetness. "You got yourself this fucking wet dancing for other men?"

You turned your head slightly, your cheek pressed against the desk as you stared up at him, lips parting slightly.

"Nah," you whispered, breathless, needy, bratty. "I got wet thinking about you dragging me back here and fucking me like you should’ve after our date."

Eren’s grip on your neck tightened.

His fingers pressed deeper against your soaked panties, teasing the sensitive bud just enough to make you whimper. "You fucking piss me off," he murmured, voice dark, low.

You turned your head, lips curling into a smirk "You piss me off too Ren," you purred, shifting your hips just enough to grind against his fingers. "But I guess that's why you love me."

Eren inhaled sharply through his nose.

Your panties were ripped off before you could even process it, the lace tearing in his grip before being tossed somewhere across the room. His palm smacked against your bare ass, a sharp sting blossoming where he hit, your thighs twitching at the sensation.

"I spoil you too much."

You hummed, a teasing little sound, looking back at him with half-lidded eyes. "You do."

Eren’s jaw ticked. "Yeah? And this is how you thank me?"

You gave him a little shrug, hips shifting, rubbing your slick folds against the hard outline of his dick through his jeans. "Only want your attention Renny."

Eren grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back just enough to expose your throat, his lips hovering over your ear.

"You had it the second you walked on that stage," he murmured, voice like gravel.

Eren wasted no more time. His belt clinked, the sound making your thighs clench together in anticipation, your breath stalling as you felt the heat of him pressing against you. His free hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place as he slid his cock between your slick folds.

Your lips parted, a soft whimper slipping out as he coated himself in your wetness, dragging his length up and down your folds, teasing your clit just enough to make you squirm.

"Eren," you whined, pushing your hips back, desperate for more, for him.

He exhaled sharply, his fingers digging into your skin. "Fucking slut, just wanted to be drunk on my cock huh?"

You nodded, moaning softly as he pressed the thick head of his cock right against your entrance, so close, but still not enough.

"Say it," he demanded, his grip tightening, his lips brushing against your ear.

You whimpered, your body trembling with need. "I want to be drunk on you."

He groaned, the sound went staright to your cunt, with one rough thrust, he buried himself inside you, stretching you open, filling you up all at once. A choked gasp tore from your throat, fingers scrambling against the surface of the desk, nails digging into the wood.

"Fuck—Eren!" Your voice broke on the last syllable, your walls clenching around him, trying to adjust to the sudden fullness.

His fingers tightened in your hair, keeping your head tilted back, his other hand spreading over your stomach, holding you still.

"You feel that, ma?" he murmured against your ear, voice dark, laced with raw need. "This dick ain’t for nobody else.And you got the nerve to be up there, showing off?"

A moan spilled from your lips as he dragged out of you slowly, the thick length of him pressing against your walls in all the right ways, before he slammed back in, hard enough to make the desk beneath you shake.

"Answer me," he demanded, his palm cracking against your ass, leaving behind a sting that only made the heat between your legs burn hotter.

You whined, gripping the edge of the desk, your body trembling as he set a brutal pace, thrusting into you with deep, punishing strokes that left you breathless.

"I—" You tried to speak, but another thrust had you moaning instead.

Eren clicked his tongue, his grip on your hip tightening, his thumb pressing into the dip of your spine. "Nah, use your words, baby. You had all that attitude before—where is it now?"

Your nails dragged against the desk, your thighs shaking, toes curling in your heels. "Y-you’re right," you finally managed, voice shaky, wrecked. "I was acting up."

A low chuckle rumbled in his chest, but there was no humor in it—just heat. "Damn right you were."

His fingers slid lower, dipping between your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing slow, deliberate circles, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you into the desk.

Your entire body jerked, a whimper tumbling from your lips as your walls clenched around him.

Eren groaned, his hips stuttering for just a second before he picked up the pace, hitting that spot inside you that made your vision blur.

"You know I’d give you whatever you want," he murmured, his lips grazing your jaw, his breath hot against your skin.

You barely processed his words—too lost in the feeling of him, the way he stretched you, filled you, owned every inch of you like he had something to prove.

"Tell me you’re mine," he growled, his hand tightening around your throat, his cock throbbing inside you.

Your lips parted, a desperate little whimper escaping as your body arched against him, surrendering completely. "I’m yours, daddy—fuck, I’m yours."

Eren groaned, his hips slamming into you harder, rougher, deeper.

"Yeah," he muttered, voice strained, wrecked. "You fucking are."

His grip on your throat tightened, his fingers pressing into the sides just enough to make your head swim, your breath hitch. He was so fucking deep, splitting you open on his cock, your walls fluttering around him as he pounded into you, using your body just how he wanted.

"Look at you," he gritted, his voice dark, condescending, dripping with heat. His hand tugged your head back, forcing your spine into a deep arch, your chest pressing against the cool wood of his desk. "Acting all high and mighty earlier, bratty as fuck— now you can’t even talk. Can’t even think, huh?"

You whimpered, your fingers curling into fists, your thighs trembling as he fucked you hard, each stroke knocking the air from your lungs, pushing you closer to that sweet, devastating edge.

Eren chuckled, low and taunting. "Nah, don’t get quiet now, ma. You wanted my attention, didn’t you? Thought you could act like a fucking slut in front of all those men and not deal with me?"

A sharp slap to your ass had you gasping, your pussy clenching around him in response.

Eren groaned, his hips faltering for just a second before he snapped back into rhythm, his grip on your throat loosened just enough for his fingers to slide up, gripping your jaw, forcing your head up.

"Look at yourself," he ordered, tilting your chin towards the dark glass of the office window, the faint reflection of your fucked-out expression staring back at you.

Your lips were swollen, glossy, parted. Your mascara was smudged, your hair a mess. Your eyes—half-lidded, hazy, desperate.

Eren grinned. "Such a fucking mess." His hand slipped between your legs again, his fingers finding your clit and rubbing tight, brutal circles. "You like being fucked like this, huh? Like being put in your place?"

You sobbed out a moan, your entire body trembling.

Eren's grip tightened on your jaw, his fingers pressing into your cheeks, forcing your mouth open as he spat onto your tongue.

"Swallow it," he ordered.

And you did. Without hesitation.

Eren groaned, his hips stuttering, his cock twitching inside you. "That’s my fucking girl."

Your walls clamped down around him, your orgasm hitting you hard, sudden, unforgiving. Your body shook, your moans breaking as your climax crashed over you, pleasure swallowing you whole.

Your breathing became staggered, your vision trying to focus as you came down from your high but Eren had other ideas. Your back, ass now hanging off the edge of the desk, Eren spread your legs wide, his head immediately dipping between your thighs.

A broken moan tore from your throat as his tongue found your clit, pressing against you as he licked slow, teasing circles.

Your body arched, legs trembling, hands scrambling for purchase.

"Eren—fuck, oh my God," you gasped, your hips rolling against his mouth, but he only pinned you down harder.

"Be good," he murmured against you, his fingers digging into your thighs, keeping you still. "Take it."

And you did. You took it all— the messy, open-mouthed kisses he pressed against your folds, the way his tongue dipped inside you, teasing, curling, before returning to your clit, flicking against it just right.

It was too much. Your body shook, your mind blanked, your breath caught.

"Fuck, Eren, I—"

You came hard, your thighs squeezing around his head as he groaned against you, licking you through it.

But he didn’t give you time to recover. The second your high began to fade, he was already pressing you into the desk, pushing your legs up until they were practically touching your chest. Putting you in a delicious matting press,

A choked moan left your lips as he slid back inside you, stretching you all over again.

His hips snapped against yours roughly, the sound of skin slapping, your wetness, his growls and your cries filling the room.

"Look at you," he taunted, his lips curling. "Fucking ruined. Just. For. Me."

You could barely breathe, let alone talk back. Your fingers dug into his arms, your body jolting with each punishing thrust.

"You gonna stop acting out?" His hand wrapped around your throat again,

"Yes," you sobbed, the lewd sounds of your pussy and moans filled the room, you knew you had made a mess of the desk, knowing if you managed to get a peak you would see your cream all over his cock.

Eren’s tattooed fingers slipped between your bodies, his thumb rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit, making you jolt, making you wail.

"E--rennnn." A desperate, breathless cry tore from your lips, your nails raking down his sweat-slick back as the pleasure coiled tight and hot in your belly.

"Yeah, that’s it. Take it."

He angled his hips just right, hitting that spot that had you trembling, shaking, gasping his name like a prayer.

"You gonna come again, sweetheart? Gonna make a mess all over my dick?"

You nodded frantically, helpless, wrecked.

"Please—Eren, fuck—please, I—"

"Do it," he ordered, his thumb pressing down harder, rubbing faster. "Come for me, baby"

You shattered, pleasure crashing over you like a fucking tidal wave, your body clenching, spasming, locking up as the orgasm ripped through you.

Eren cursed, his head dropping against your throat, his own breathing ragged, uneven.

"Fuck—good girl," he murmured against your sweat-damp skin, kissing, biting, licking.

You were soaked, trembling, overstimulated, but Eren kept going. His pace never slowed, never faltered. His cock was still thick, still heavy, still throbbing.

And he wanted more.

His fingers dug into your hips, lifting you, pulling you impossibly closer, forcing your bodies flush together as he fucked you through it, dragging out every last aftershock, every last whimper.

"One more," he murmured, almost soothing, almost sweet. "Just one more, baby."

You whimpered, nails dragging down his back as his pace grew. Your legs trembled from how deep he was, how good he was hitting that spot over and over again, like he was trying to imprint himself inside you.

"Fuck, Eren—I can’t—"

"Yes, the fuck you can," he snarled, his grip tightening on your thighs, forcing them higher, pressing you deeper into the desk.

The change in angle had you screaming, arching, gasping his name.

"That’s it," he groaned, sweat dripping down his temple. "Take it. Take every inch of this dick like the good fucking girl I know you are."

Your body seized up, pleasure snapping through you like a live wire. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your breath caught in your throat as your orgasm ripped through you, violent and all-consuming.

Eren felt it instantly. The way your walls fluttered and clenched around him, your body gripping him like a vice, refusing to let go.

His pace turned sloppy, erratic, desperate, his breathing ragged as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own.

Your name tumbled past his lips, over and over, reverent and raw, his forehead pressing against yours as he lost himself, buried deep.

"Fuck—" Eren gritted his teeth, his hands gripping your hips tight, bruising, before he slammed into you one last time, burying himself deep, his cock pulsing, twitching, spilling inside you.

The silence between you two was calming, your bodies still pressed together, you moaned softly as you felt him shift in you, he pressed a lazy kiss to your jaw.

Your hands trailed up his arms, fingertips ghosting over the ink covering his skin. You smirked, voice breathless, smug.

"I basically got what I wanted."

Eren could feel his eye twitch, you did his head in but you loved you nonetheless. Huffing a laugh, he bit down on your neck causing you to giggle.

"Too damn spoiled."

𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘮𝘦, 𝘳𝘦𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘴, 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘢𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 ©

#black female smut #black fem reader #fanfic #eren x black reader #anime #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren smut #eren jaeger #plug eren x black reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren x black y/n

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grudgecollector · 2 months ago

Note

protective daryl is such a Must like

imagine someone’s just threatened you and he stands in front of you with one of his arms back so he can hold your hand. “you don’t talk to her” he’d growl.

after somehow sending them away he’d turn back to you and hold your face and just “you okay?” and a “i’m never gonna let anything happen to ya”

Ol' Coyote | Daryl Dixon x Reader

Tags: Swearing, smoking, protective Daryl, season 2 Daryl, light angst, mentions of past domestic violence

Words: 2.5k

A/N: I'm FERAL over protective Daryl YES GAHD

Something you'll never get from me is a non-southern reader in TWD fics.

I may have made things a little ooc with Shane, possibly just a tad more aggressive than he actually is with people confronting him. But it's for the plot of the fic.

Also I'm not sure if I really like how this turned out, but I think I've just been staring at the words too long. I hope you enjoy it either way <3

Tension was running high on the farm. A nervousness had settled over you in the last few days as you watched Shane. His erratic behavior was becoming unnerving to observe from the outside. His freshly shaved head glistened with sweat as he shook it, watching Lori practically stomp away from him after a heated conversation.

This was what you were best at. Watching. Every move that was made within your eyesight didn’t go unnoticed, every twitch, every heavy sigh that came from the man. You always had a knack for catching things just before shit hit the fan. That was the only thing you were thankful for when it came to your ex boyfriend.

The things Brian said and did to you during those four years were permanently ingrained in your mind. Always reminding you to keep your guard up around men who would view you as weak, feeble minded, helpless and in need of saving. Men with the kind of charm that draws you in, making you think they can protect you from the dangers of the world, when in reality they are the biggest threat to you.

The almost sadistic glint in Shane’s eye. The way he’d suck on his teeth and laugh humorlessly. The way he watched her… It was starting to scare you a little. It wasn’t a fear you held for yourself, but for Lori, a woman tangled in a web that was impossible to escape from.

It wasn’t hard to admit that you did not feel safe around the man anymore. That feeling started to dissipate after he proposed the idea to give up on the search for Carol’s missing daughter. He was losing his grip. Even more-so after his botched run with Otis.

“You good?” Daryl asked, nudging his elbow into your side.

He had something hanging from his fingers, the necklace he had gifted you a week ago. He followed your gaze as he clasped the necklace for you, fingertips guiding along your hairline softly before settling on your shoulder.

“Yeah…” You replied quietly, turning your head to look at the man beside you, “Is it just me or is he losin’ his damn mind?”

“Oh it ain’t just you, sweetheart.” He nodded towards Dale who was sitting atop the RV, occasionally glancing over towards Shane.

The angered man was pacing back and forth, roughly rubbing at his chin. Whatever conversation he and Lori had seemed to have stirred him up pretty bad, you could practically see the smoke rolling off his shoulders.

“He needs to get his shit together.” You shook your head, crossing your arms, “The way he acts just... Ugh.”

“You can keep on hoping, but I think he’s lost his marbles a long time ago.” Daryl huffed, hand dropping down to your waist as he brought you a little closer.

Daryl and you walked back over to his area away from the rest of the camp, your shared tent occasionally rustling under the wind. The fire Daryl built an hour ago was starting to go down, tiny flames licking pathetically towards the sky, failing to build itself back up.

The sun was starting to set, pink and orange hues blending together with the darkening blue sky. Daryl settled next to you on the grass, his knee brushing against your thigh.

These were the moments you cherished the most. Calm and peaceful in a world filled with unimaginable horrors. A chance to take a deep breath and forget about your worries for just a short period of time. And you couldn’t ask for anyone better to spend it with.

Over the last few months you had spent most of your time next to Daryl. At first he didn’t seem too fond of it, occasionally glancing your way with narrowed eyes and a suspicious attitude. Like he was waiting for you to strike, trying to stay a step ahead of your nonexistent plan to rob him blind.

In reality you just appreciated the quiet. Away from the hustle and bustle that came with such a large group of people. You wanted to keep your distance, especially when it came to the children at the camp, trying your hardest to avoid the gut wrenching feeling that came whenever you looked at Carl. Oh how innocent and naive they were in such a heartless world.

Eventually Daryl started to warm up to your presence. Allowing you to accompany him on hunts, teaching you the basics of tracking, and how to skin animals properly. It was easy to see through him, see past his rough edges and appreciate the moments where his kindness would shine through momentarily.

The closeness between the two of you was something you cherished deeply. Knowing that wherever you went, he wouldn’t be far behind.

It was moments like this that you could momentarily forget the ticking time bomb that slept just a few feet away from you. The very man in question is sitting next to Rick at the group’s shared camping area, laughing almost emotionlessly at something his best friend said.

“You’re gonna burn a hole into his head if y’keep starin’ like that.” Daryl muttered, smiling a little bit when you halfheartedly glared at him.

“Shut up.” You grumbled, “I’m gonna head up to the house real quick, gotta use the bathroom.”

You were quick to stand. Your fingers brushed gently through Daryl’s hair, prompting him to place a hand on the back of your calf.

The field in front of the house was still muddy from the rain, your boots sinking in just a little with every step you made. The sound of the ground squishing beneath your feet was drowned out by laughter from the camp, Carl, Lori, and Rick huddled together in front of their own fire as they shared a can of corn.

It made you happy to know that at least one family was able to stay together through all of this. While they may not be perfect, they were still trying to stay intact in such a hectic world, making things as normal as they could be for their child.

“Sup lovebirds.” You greeted Glenn and Maggie as you walked up the steps to the house. Glenn rolled his eyes and gave you a tight lipped smile. He hadn’t exactly sealed the deal with Maggie just yet, the both of them tiptoeing around each other cautiously.

“Evenin’.” Maggie smiled, nodding towards you, “Where you headed?”

“Is it alright if I use y’alls bathroom? I promise I won’t be long.”

Maggie tilted her head a little, “You always ask and the answers always gonna be the same.”

You couldn't help but smile a little, “Yeah well, believe it or not my parents did teach me manners. I usually don’t like invadin’ other people’s spaces without askin’ first.” You shrugged, going to grab for the handle of the screen door. “Thanks Maggie.”

The hinges groaned loudly as you opened it. The Greene’s home was so beautiful, a warm yellow light casting over the neatly kept rooms, picture frames of the occupying family decorated the walls. It was that sense of normalcy you had needed ever since everything started. Something reminding you that not everything had to be so terrible all the time. It made it easy to forget the reality of things.

You walked into the bathroom and gently shut the door behind you, not bothering to glance at your reflection in the mirror. Scared of what would be staring back at you.

By the time you opened the door again, you could hear Beth and Patricia talking in the living room. Maggie was sitting next to her sister on the couch now, Glenn must have gone back over to your group for dinner. You figured you should probably do the same thing, cook up those squirrels Daryl and you caught earlier in the morning.

You walked back outside and unzipped the pocket to your cargo pants, a lucky find at an army supply store. The top of the crumpled red and white box flips open easily, and you pluck a half smoked cigarette out along with your lighter and begin making your trek back towards your camp.

“Hey.” A voice stops you, Shane standing from one of the rocking chairs on the porch.

Great…

You brought the orange filter to your lips and flicked open the zippo lighter you stole from Daryl. You didn’t bother to look at the man walking towards you for more than a second, exhaling the smoke from the corner of your mouth as he got closer.

“Can I help you with somethin’ Shane?” You asked, annoyance present in your tone.

“I don’t know, can you? Cause you seem to be starin’ an awful lot recently.” His broad shoulders rolled back a little as he crossed his arms in front of his chest.

“You feelin’ a little paranoid there? Intimidated by someone doing a little people watching?”

“Don’t patronize me.” He shook his head, stepping closer towards you.

An anxious feeling started to eat away at your stomach. You never liked when men started to close in on your personal space, even less when it was someone like Shane. The unpredictable and dangerous types.

“I’d barely call it patronizing.” You shot back with a small shrug..

“You got a problem with me or somethin’? With how I’ve been handlin’ things?”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “I mean I got my fair share of issues with a lot of things, man.” He was starting to prick against your nerves, “Like you wanting to call off the search for Sophia? That was pretty fucked up.”

“Not this shit again.” He shook his head, hands going to rest on his hips, “It’s bad enough I got to hear it from everyone else in the camp. Now I gotta hear it from the girl who’s too good to even grace us with her presence.”

“Oh boo fucking hoo. Why is that such a big deal to you? Can’t someone just enjoy some alone time?” You scoffed, flicking off the flimsy ashes from your cigarette.

“Ain’t no such thing as alone time anymore. You gotta start contributing more to the group.”

“Or what? You gonna boot my ass to the curb and call it a day? Seems like the kinda route you’ve been lovin’ lately.” You almost spat, an accusatory tone to your voice, “I’ve contributed plenty of my time to the group, helping Daryl with hunts and runs, making sure your bellies are full. I help wash clothes in the morning, I do daily perimeter checks with Glenn. Ain’t that enough for you?” You stepped a little closer this time, lowering your voice to harshly say, “Cause if you’re implying anything more, I ain’t doing personal tent calls like some street whore.”

“You better watch your mouth.” His eyes were starting to get that wild look again, twitching a little when you smiled bitterly at him.

“Did you hit your head or somethin’ when you went on that run with Otis? Is that what’s got you so fucked up? Some traumatic brain injury or some shit?”

“Who do you think you’re talkin’ to, little girl? Cause I know it ain’t me.” He sized you up, chest puffed out as he got closer, but you stayed firmly planted, not allowing him to intimidate you.

Not this time.

“You’re fuckin’ losing it Shane, sure there ain’t many in the group that pick up on it but I sure do.” You shook your head, “All I’m sayin’ is you need to take a step back before you get someone else killed.”

Clearly your wording made something snap within Shane. That littlest bit of self control he had disappeared, and suddenly his hands were clutching onto your biceps, blunt fingernails digging through the fabric of your shirt.

“I ain’t getting anyone killed,” He growled out, “I keep this place safe, me. Not you, not Rick, or Daryl, Dale, none of you. You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, girl, you’re barely smarter than a bag of fucking rocks. All talk and no bite.” His words punched into your harshly, he was practically snarling in your face as he got closer and closer. Your eyes were wide, fear striking through your heart as you stared at him. “Got any other smartass remarks, huh?”

“Get your fuckin’ hands off of me, man!” You thrashed in his hold, quick to bring your still lit cigarette up and pressing it against his forearm.

He flinched away, letting you go, and for a split second you almost thought he was about to rear back and slap you. He had that same exact look in his eyes your ex would get.

Dangerous and unpredictable.

“Hey!” You heard an angered voice growl from behind you.

Suddenly you felt hands on you again, making you flinch. But the hold was gentle, guiding you as Daryl stepped in front of you, his shoulders heaved with each heavy breath, clearly having run over to you as quickly as he possibly could.

“The hell you think you’re doin’, huh?! Puttin’ your hands on her like that!” He was seething, but his hand was gentle as it held onto yours, squeezing softly as a way to reassure you. “You don’t fuckin’ talk to her, y’hear me?” He growled out threateningly, his hand resting on the knife secured to his belt, ready to strike at any second. “Don’t let me catch you near her again, asshole, or it’ll be hell to pay. I promise you that.” He glared at Shane, quickly turning around and guiding you past the group’s camp.

“What the hell is going on? What’s with all the shouting?” Rick asked, catching up to the two of you.

“Y’better get your fuckin’ boy, Rick. Ask him to explain the situation t’you.” Daryl spat, not giving him time to reply.

You sat back down in front of the fire, staring at the yellow flames blankly. Never did you think Shane would put his hands on you like that, but the way he had talked to you, looked at you. It was too familiar, as if you were standing in front of the direct reincarnation of a man you fought so hard to forget.

Daryl’s hands gently held your trembling ones. His index finger and thumb came up to your chin and pushed your head up so he could look into your dewy eyes. His fingers caressed your cheek, he knew that look on your face all too well, having seen it in the mirror plenty of times.

“He ever tries anything like that again, he’s a dead man.” He stated firmly.

“I thought he was gonna hit me.” You said weakly, you hated how pathetic your voice sounded.

“I ain’t ever gonna let anything happen t’you. Not while I’m still breathing.”

The promise would be a difficult one to fulfill, you both knew that. But the words still held weight, settling deep within your heart. You would be safe with him, you knew that.

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon reader insert #twd reader insert #twd x you #twd x reader #the walking dead x reader #the walking dead x you #the walking dead reader insert #the walking dead #daryl dixon #violet writes

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emmyrosee · 11 months ago

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NO WAY I HAVE A THOUGHT HOLD ONN

I just saw this TikTok of this girl that has a bf w a lot of tattoos and she gets this colourful eyeshadow pallet from her makeup bag to COLOUR IN THE TATTOO if u get what I mean like the tattoo could be like a butterfly or a dragon AND SHE COLOURS IT IN WITH HER COLOURFUL EYESHADOW PALETTE and omg I IMMEDIATELY thought of SUKUNA it’s be such a cute interaction 🥹🥹

-Anon🥢

GOD THIS IS SO CUTE-

——

Sukuna naps. More than he should.

He can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, for long stretches of time that you should be concerned with, had he not been doing it since the beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was not worth paying for a movie, candy and popcorn, when he merely slept the whole time. You could’ve done it for free at home.

Regardless, here you were, repeating history as he snores loudly next to you, his arms crossed as he sleeps soundly, lips parted to let out small little huffs. You sigh and grab your phone to scroll, no longer interested in the movie without having someone to talk to about it.

The first thing to pop up, has you smirking, with a girl shading in her boyfriends tattoos with eyeshadow. Granted, sukuna doesn’t have shapes of tattoos, but he has plenty of tan skin to cover.

You squeal and run to grab your palette and a brush, suddenly more excited than you realized to color in your boyfriend.

You start with a gentle touch on the circle of his shoulder, dipping into a peach that looks enough like his skin tone if he were to wake up.

When he doesn’t, that’s you’re cue to keep going. It doesn’t take long before he’s absolutely covered in pigment.

The small bit of skin between the tattoos on his chest are quick to be colored in, your brush gently dusting over his skin to apply the color. His face twitches but ultimately, he stays asleep. You deem him out of it enough to straddle his lap, allowing you more access to his tattoos and tanned skin, nearly laughing as he stays asleep, arms laid limp at his sides.

Bright pink blends into bright purple in the gaps of his tattoos, and in the gap of skin below the ink, mint green turns to light blue. You smile and clean your brush with another swirl on a paper towel, dipping into a lilac color and swirling it on the slender bit of skin on his bicep above the skin not needled with ink.

Your brush trails a tad too close to under his arm, and he scrunches his face and shakes you off. You pause, holding your breath, but you’re out of luck as he screws his eyes tight and grunts in exhaustion.

“Whyre you tickling me?” He grumbles, stretching awake and smacking his lips together. “I’ll kill you. We’ve been over this.”

“I’m not,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek and brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. “How was your nap?”

“S’good.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, and when he blinks his eyes open to look at you, his brows furrow at the colorful eyeshadow palette on your lap, “you doing some makeup shit?”

You sink your teeth into your lip, “uhm… kind of?”

“The fuck you mean kind of? It’s a yes or no-“ red eyes fall to his arm, face flat as he eyes the colors splashed over his body, some blended in together, others just solid colors filled onto his skin. You laugh nervously as he continues to look down at his torso. “So, you want me to beat the shit out of you?”

“No,” you giggle. “I wanted to make you prettier.”

“I’m already pretty enough, don’t use my body like a damn coloring book, you freak.” He stretches his arms out, brows furrowing as he sees the full extent of your coloring, “fucking- how mUCH EYESHADOW DID YOU USE?”

“Not a lot!” You defend. “It’s a pigmented palette.”

He glares at you, “and you’ve got the nerve to ask me to buy your fuckin’ makeup when this is the shit you pull!”

“You’re the one who fell asleep in the middle of the movie!” You whine, shoving his chest gently. “I needed to entertain myself somehow!”

He catches your shoving hand into his big one, and you gulp nervously, “I’m old. I sleep a lot. This ain’t news.”

The fact he hasn’t yelled at you tells you everything you need to know, and you grab your brush again to continue. “Hey! I’m scolding you, dickhead!”

“Im listening,” you assure, popping the brush into the yellow and moving to the other tattooed circle on his shoulder. “Youre old, I know, you like sleeping, I know-“

“That was not an invitation for you to keep coloring!” He hissed.

You look back up at him though your lashes, pouting subtly, “aw, jeez- fuck you, you know that?” He snarls, and when you blink at him, he rolls his eyes and sits up to be nose-to-nose with you. “Stay out of my armpits. Do not color my face. And so help me, if you take any pictures-“ when your pout deepens, his lip curled into a snarl, “fuck you. ONE. picture.”

“You’re the best!” You mewl, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “The best boyfriend anyone could ask for-“

“Shut up and keep coloring before I change my fucking mind.”

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r4fe-cam3ron · 5 months ago

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sniffsniffsniffsniffsniff. ohhg, hiiiiiii :3 💝🦋✨

(if they’re open), Can I request Emperor Geta angst ?? Like, he said the wrong thing; he really, deeply hurt Reader; and then he finds her crying in the royal gardens + he feels bad :( 🥰 (royal garden ?? idk how the roman empire works)

maybe a lighter ending? :3 but i would eat up anything u give us, queen 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

ohhh, love!!!! they are absolutely opened! & you’re my first request eeee - WITH geta too??? i hope this delivers for you! ᢉ𐭩 warnings; no spoilers! geta is … geta (sarcastic and mean), slightly ooc, happy-ish ending!

“You are anything but what I truly need.”

The words had bounced around in your head - the voice of the man was smooth as velvet, yet, rough around the edges just as the cobblestone your sandaled feet walks across.

Your head is held high, though your lips threaten to quiver, pulling at the corners. Inhaling roughly, gripping the silk of your dress, you will the burning behind your eyes to go away.

Entering the garden that Geta had allowed you to build, the warmth has sweat beading up a tad more along the hollow of your neck. Placing yourself onto the bench that had some cracks and edges breaking off, your hands fold in your lap.

Eyes lingering on the stone, your fingers fiddle with the golden band. You are not sure if this is what you want - yet, you have to deal with it anyway so Geta doesn’t look as if he were a fool.

If someone killing you was the only way out, you believe you would just lie there and accept the fate of a sword rather than cruel words coming from someone you truly loved, yet didn’t feel an ounce back.

“You are crying.”

Startled, you flinch at the sound of his voice, eyes lifting from your lap as you stare at him. His face is clean - a luxury to stare at, really.

The pale skin that seemed to shine - that didn’t seem as if he was dead. There’s a bit of faded black eyeliner, but his eyes are still wide as they stare at you.

“I…wasn’t aware that I was,” You are quick to look away, realizing that you have openly stared at him for a long time. Bringing a hand up, you brush away the tear. “I apologize.”

He hums as he looks away, eyes traveling up the vines that curl around a tree. “I didn’t mean what I said,” You quickly look over at him. “I have been under a lot of pressure as of late - I took it out on you,”

Geta apologizing is unheard of - a strange feeling settles in your stomach as you continue to stare at him this time.

“It should have been my brother eating those words instead of you,” He looks at you as he nods. “I am sorry.”

A small smile pulls at your lips, and though your eyes are still burning with tears and Geta’s pretty face is slightly blurry from them, you let out an airy laugh.

His brows pinch in confusion. “What are you laughing at?”

“I’m sorry,” Your fingers press over your lips now, looking away from him quickly as your heart pounds and the tips of your ears grow hot. “I am not laughing at you, Geta, my love,”

Your eyes peek over at him once again before you clear your throat. “That is one of the first times I have ever heard you apologize. To anyone.”

He stands. “Yes, well,” He clears his throat. “First and last times for everything,”

You smile and nod, dropping your hand to your lap once more as you stare up with him.

He feels sick at the look of your face - not at all in a bad way. This whole thing - you - were new to him. He doesn’t feel as if he deserves you, or even the notion of any type of love - whether that be platonic or romantic.

Holding out a slightly trembling hand to you, he clears his throat once more, hoping that would sooth any voice cracks.

“Well? Are you coming?”

Slipping your hand into his, you stand from the bench and place your hand against his cheek. He jerks his head to the side slightly before slowly allowing himself to lean into the feeling of your smooth palm.

Nudging the tip of his nose with yours and pressing a kiss to his mouth, you stare at him.

“I love you.”

The words makes his heart skip a beat and breath catch in his throat slightly as his lips part. You smile, though it doesn’t meet your eyes.

“It’s okay not to say it now,” You whisper to him in reassurance as your eyes flicker down to his lips once again before quickly looking back into his brown eyes. “I just thought you should know.”

He only nods, pulling his forehead away from yours slightly. “Well then,” He cleaned his throat. “Let’s go finished getting ready.”

Smiling sadly, you follow behind him as you always will.

#joseph quinn x reader #emperor geta x fem!reader #emperor geta x reader #emperor geta x you

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dragon-ascent · 4 months ago

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Hi hi hi!!! I absolutely adore your Zhongli fics your characterization of him makes me swoon he’s such a cutie

Out of curiosity, what’s your opinion on the Zhongli/Morax x reader trope of reader initially being a sacrifice to the dragon god only for Zhongli to be like “What no I don’t take sacrifices???” And just taking reader in as a sort of roommate or something like that. It’s a trope I find really interesting and funny and I’m curious to hear your thoughts on it :)

Hi hi and thank you! Zhongli's the cutest patootie :) <3 And I freaking LOVE that trope!!! Like, easily top 3 trope for Zhongli if you ask me. (I could make a whole tierlist of tropes for him, but that's a post for another day haha.)

Ik you just asked for thoughts but have a little write-up, as a treat. :)

xxx

Rex Lapis is a tad offended that he'd be perceived as the type of god to take human sacrifices, since he does everything in his power to ensure mortals feel comfortable and safe around him. But he's assimilated many groups of people into his land, so it's only natural some may still retain the beliefs and customs they did under the deities preceding him, as grim as that may be.

When you're left in front of his abode as a sacrifice, he sees how urgently he needs to rectify those customs.

You're a jittery thing, all nerves and shudders and, to his dismay, rather scantily-clad especially given the season. He does his best to push the implications of your clothing to the back of his mind as he brings you into his home and warms you up by the fire with some nice warm blankets too.

He assures you he will not lay a finger on you with malicious intent, but you're staring at him like a deer in headlights - like he'll throw you into the fire at any moment if you so much as breathe wrong. Every movement of his makes you stiffen, and even the tea he brews for you is met with trepidation in every sip.

He can't send you back to your people as they'll believe you're a faulty sacrifice and kill you off themselves - so Rex Lapis takes you in his care instead.

He feeds you, clothes you, and even lets you rest in his bed while he takes the floor beside you. You're mostly quiet at first, but as the days pass and there's no sign of him hurting, devouring, or killing you, a seed of trust in his words blossoms. You believe the God of Contracts when he gives you his word he will keep you safe and cared for.

Given the way he treats you, there's no reason to feel otherwise - you've become something of a close companion to him, someone to share the tender joys and sorrows of life with. He used to go on strolls by his lonesome, but now he finds that having someone to walk with is much more enriching, giving his evenings an added tinge of fulfilment.

People do stare and whisper when they see you by the god's side, but if this is how Rex Lapis chooses to make use of their 'sacrifice,' who are they to argue?

Some watch, agog, as the golden deity takes you to the market and practically splurges on you. You shyly point to a sweet treat that looks appetizing, and he boxes a dozen of them without a moment's hesitation. A pretty accessory catches your eye for a second longer than the others, and when you turn to move on to the next stall, Rex Lapis is having said accessory taken off display and handed to you.

"These are the calligraphy brushes I spoke of yesterday," he tells you casually as he runs a finger along the sleek wooden writing instruments. "Would you like to give the activity a try?" It only takes one meek nod from you for him to get you a whole set of the brushes, promising to teach you when you both get home.

It's a shocking sight to everyone who'd betrayed you, everyone who'd so easily given you up for some false belief they held on to so stubbornly: here you are, being treated like you're actually worth something to the god, what with the way he smiles and laughs softly at something you say, the way he gently touches your elbow to veer you away from the evening rush, the way his footsteps fall in rhythm with yours.

As you pass certain familiar faces, your head snaps down and you fall silent, and Rex Lapis immediately knows they're the ones responsible for your plight. He throws them a sharp, stone-cold glare over your downcast head, and they recoil in fright, quickly turning the other way to pretend they can't feel like a whole landslide of shame now hurtles along their spines.

Needless to say, he is greeted by no more human sacrifices at his door. The one he does have, he ensures a long, happy and healthy life for.

#sini answers #GOD the sacrifice trope is EVERYTHING to me #sini writes #zhongli #zhongli x reader #drabble #rex lapis #yeah I just wanted to write this so bad #not friends not quite lovers #but a secret third thing

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thesvnandthemooon · 7 days ago

Text

𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞

a/n: part 2. idk

summary: natasha romanoff x married!reader; nat and you used to be in love. now, years later, you're married to a wealthy man and have a daughter with him. will running into natasha change everything?

warnings: none

word count: 6.4k

part 1, part 2, part 3, …

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

— COOKIES AND CONVERSATIONS —

"Natasha?"

Her eyes lock with yours as she slowly straightens up, making Nina let go of her sleeve in the process. You pull your daughter closer, staring at Natasha incredulously.

"Y/N", she finally says, a tad too coolly for your liking.

"What are you doing here?", you ask, still wary. Nina has grabbed your hand, a bit confused by how icy and distant the interaction between you two seems. You both said you're friends, after all. She's too young to grasp just how complex your relationship actually is.

'Friends' is far from the truth.

Natasha looks around the lobby, noticing the stares she's getting from strangers.

Yes, she specifically. You're a familiar face around here, probably visiting every week with your daughter in tow. She, however? She's unfamiliar. A face that stands out, someone who doesn't fit in. Her traitorous brain remarks that she should be used to that feeling by now. But she isn't.

"Can we maybe move this outside?", she asks quietly, her eyes flitting back to meet yours. You frown, unsure whether you should agree to her request.

But then again, Natasha is safe. Despite the breakup, despite the years of distance — you trust her. Part of you also realizes that your conversation is being overheard, which you don't like. Too many people know too much about you already, so there's no need to give them more stuff to talk about.

"Fine." You reluctantly follow her, making sure you're holding on to your daughter. No way is she running off again. That'd be the second time within less than a week.

You look at her as soon as you're outside, standing by your car. Natasha pushes her hands into the pockets of her coat, observing you out of the corner of her eye. She still can't shake that habit, it seems — always on the lookout, always studying you. It's as endearing as it is frustrating.

"So?", you eventually say, your thumb rubbing Nina's fingers. You're trying to calm yourself down. Or keep yourself calm. Either of those. "Answer me."

Natasha's gaze briefly sweeps over your surroundings. Traffic, an empty sidewalk, that gigantic building you just exited. Nobody in vicinity, which is a relief.

"I wanted to see you", she says. A half-lie. She did want to see you, in some way at least, but that's not what she's here for. She came her to find evidence, to gather intel about your precious husband.

Can she tell you that, though?

No. Not yet.

Your expression falters for a moment, the mask of indifference crumbling and vanishing. A variety of emotions flickers across your face, unreadable yet obvious. Natasha can see every single one, making her chest feel tight with guilt.

"You've got great timing", you say weakly, feeling the early autumn breeze brush over your cheeks. "It's been seven years."

"It's been a little more than five days", Natasha corrects you, still stoic.

"You know what I mean", you say sharply. "That thing at the art gallery? Doesn't count. Besides: if you wanted to see me, why'd you come to my husband's office?"

"I didn't know this was his office", she immediately replies, which — to you — is even more ridiculous than her claiming she wanted to see you. She's a spy, for god's sake. She doesn't do anything without a purpose, especially not something like this.

"So this is a coincidence?" You let out a hollow laugh. "Natasha-"

"Okay", she says, stepping closer. You quickly look at her, feeling the urge to take a step back. You can't get close to her again. "Maybe I did know he works here. But how else was I supposed to find you?"

"Not at all would've been a start."

"Charming", she says drily, her attempt at concealing the hurt in her voice failing. "Nice to see you too."

"Oh, come on." You sigh. "I'm sorry, but this...it's odd. I didn't think you'd be the one to seek me out first after, you know...", you trail off. She smiles bitterly, averting her eyes.

"Not all of us hold grudges", she says, softer this time. "I guess you're just harder to forget than I thought."

There's a teasing lilt to her voice, something that's meant to protect you both. It doesn't work, but you appreciate the effort. Plus, it manages to elicit a small smile from you. That's more than enough for Natasha.

Nina, ever the restless one, lets go of you to grab Natasha's hand again. The woman looks down at her, a smile appearing on her lips. The child is staring at her as if she's some kind of superhero, which is pretty much spot on.

"Looks like I've been replaced", you comment, the smile on your face turning more genuine now.

Nina is sociable. She loves people of pretty much all ages and is guaranteed to talk their ears off. Still, this kind of immediate fascination is something you haven't seen before. Like mother like daughter, it seems. When you first met Natasha, you felt this kind of enchantment as well. It's a spell that's hard to break.

"I am very likable", Natasha boasts playfully, grinning at your daughter. The little one turns to look at you, pleased that she made the pretty lady smile at her.

"Mommy, she's nice", she pipes up. "Can we get cookies? You promised."

"I did promise cookies", you sigh, shooting her an affectionate look. Then you glance at Natasha. "We were supposed to pick up a snack on our way home", you say sheepishly. "Care to join us?"

"Change of heart?", the redhead teases.

"Yeah, well..." You crack a smile. You're aware you went from pissed off to mildly flustered, all within the span of mere minutes. It'd throw her off guard if she wasn't still familiar with it. "It's always been difficult to stay mad at you."

Natasha hums, looking at Nina again. The girl smiles as if on cue, bouncing on the spot.

"Please?"

"Will I get a cookie, too?", Natasha asks, raising her eyebrows.

Nina nods. "You can have one", she says, her tone generous yet slightly self-important. You and Natasha exchange an amused look — it's a kind and genuine offer, but the way she's saying it makes it sound like the cookies are hers to give away. You're starting to see why your parents have called your daughter spoiled before.

"Looks like the boss has spoken. So, you're joining us?"

"I can't say no to Miss Nina here", Natasha confirms, squeezing Nina's hand.

"Nobody can", you huff, smiling, and take Nina's free hand. "There's a café down the block. We can walk there."

To say that this is weird would be more than just an understatement.

You haven't seen her in years. Haven't talked to her, haven't texted her, nothing. Refusal to reach out from both sides resulted in complete radio silence. And now?

Now you're walking down the street together, both of you holding onto Nina as she walks between you. You're not talking — thankfully, your daughter has decided to do that for you. She's chattering nonstop, her little voice ringing through the air.

It's warm inside the café, with the scent of pumpkin spice wafting right into your faces. Nina instantly lets go of you both, running up to the counter to inspect the pastries. She clasps her hands together in front of her, as if to prevent herself from touching the glass that's separating her from the sweet treats.

"She's a good kid", Natasha says quietly as you catch up to the girl. "She must get that from you."

You smile slightly, glancing at the woman next to you. Your gaze gets stuck, lingers, traces her features. You never could've forgotten what she looks like — not in a million years — but she's even more beautiful than you remembered.

Natasha notices you staring. She looks at you from the corner of her eye, subtly tilting her head. "What?", she asks softly.

"Nothing", you respond in a low murmur, quickly digging through your purse. "It's just weird seeing you here."

She manages a faint smile, silently agreeing with your words. Her eyes zero in on your wallet as you reach for a few dollar bills and her hand comes up to gently stop you.

"I got this", she says, reaching for her own money.

"No, hey-"

"Hush", she says firmly, then gives the barista a polite smile. She lets Nina order her own cookie (the rainbow one, of course), then she lists off everything else. Chocolate chip cookies — a classic —, an espresso and your favorite beverage.

You hide your smile, trying to get over the fact that she still remembers.

You find a quiet, secluded corner of the café, and sit down there. The sky is littered with clouds, covering the sun and allowing the soft lights of the café to be the star of the show.

Nina is tucked into the corner seat between you, her little hands breaking the cookie in two. Her excitement over something so mundane is serving as a buffer between you and Natasha, helping you through initial awkward silences.

"It's a nice place", Natasha comments, taking a sip of her espresso. "Much better than that place in D.C. with the squeaky chairs."

"And the bitter coffee", you add, looking at her. You reach out, tapping the frame of the glasses she's wearing. Those are definitely new. "Didn't know you need glasses now."

"I don't", Natasha says, quickly sliding the glasses off her face. Her eyes meet yours, deep green and softened. "They just help me be recognized less, believe it or not."

"I recognized you", you counter, stirring the hot drink in front of you before taking a tentative sip.

"Yes, you did", she says pointedly, glancing at Nina as she holds out a piece of her cookie. The girl has her head tilted sweetly.

"Trade?"

"Sure, honey", Natasha says, handing her a piece of her own cookie in exchange. Then she focuses on you again. "Now let's hope the rest of Manhattan isn't as sharp-eyed as you."

You roll your eyes, an amused sound escaping you. "Well, don't look at me. I don't think a pair of glasses could ever make you blend in." You pause, a thought crossing your mind. "What are you hiding from, anyways?"

Natasha looks at you, her brain — again — settling on a half-truth. "You know me. From the rest of Manhattan, pretty much."

"Right", you say, smiling faintly. "Always on the run."

"Old habits die hard", she says wryly, leaning back with her arms crossed. Irony — her very own way of suppressing the guilt that's starting to rear its head. She's lying to you pretty much constantly, keeping secrets and finding excuses.

Natasha has reasons for that. She can't just tell you what's going on, not until she knows for sure. Until then, you might be of use.

Telling herself that is easier than admitting why she's actually sitting here with you.

"Funny. I thought you'd have found some peace by now." You tilt your head pointedly. "Or at least a better disguise."

"Me and peace in the same sentence? Never thought I'd see the day", she says, finishing her espresso. "And the disguise? It's low-maintenance."

You let out a sound that's between a laugh and a scoff, wiping a few cookie crumbs off Nina's face absently. She rubs her eyes tiredly and you place a soothing hand on her back. "You were never low-maintenance."

"I thought I was charmingly uncomplicated", she smiles, briefly glancing at Nina to check on her. The girl looks sleepy, so it must be nap time for her soon.

"Yes, sure. If that's what you'd call having three passports in the glove compartment whenever you drove me anywhere."

The sole purpose of the smirk on Natasha's face is to hide a wince. It wasn't just the passports — it was everything that came with being with her. Switching cars while driving in the middle of the night, being prepared to run at any given moment. Making sure she could up and go whenever she wanted. Never entirely grounded, one foot always in the shadows.

Her existence was unpredictable, untethered. A stark contrast to the safe but stifling life you lead now, filled with monotony and routines.

Being with her allowed you to soar, even if it sometimes meant crashing down.

"Touché", Natasha says, watching you smooth down Nina's hair. Yet another new mannerism you've picked up — an endearing one at that. "Makes me wonder why you didn't run."

"Maybe I liked the thrill", you reply, looking at her again. Nina's head droops onto your arm for a moment. She's definitely ready for her nap. "Or maybe I liked the person behind the passports."

"That person hasn't changed as much as you may think."

"I think we've both changed."

Natasha watches you scoop the yawning child into your lap. Nina nestles against you, her eyes closing.

She never thought she'd see you like this: all motherly and nurturing, quietly soothing a child — your child. So maybe you have a point. Maybe you did change.

"Maybe", she admits, giving a small smile. "Some things don't, though."

"Like what?", you ask quietly, a hint of challenge in your voice.

Natasha leans forward, her gaze holding yours. The café, the people around you, the noises and smells — it all disappears. At least for a moment, it does.

"Like the way I recognized you, too."

. . .

— THE WEB UNFOLDS —

Her office is small but efficient, filled with the tools of her trade. Screens glowing with data, paperwork and open files scattered across her desk, a steaming mug of tea. She toys with a pen as she scans the financial documents she retrieved once more, one name standing out: Durant Enterprises.

Multiple transfers to and from said company, the amounts large and the descriptions vague. It's the frequency that makes her pause. This isn't just routine business — it's deliberate.

Natasha feels on edge as she puts her pen aside, now pulling up a secondary window on her screen. She cross-references the company with known entities in her database and starts to dig.

At first, Durant Enterprises doesn't raise alarms. Everything seems ordinary until more troubling details surface.

Natasha pauses, her hands stilling. She stares at the screen, feeling a chill run down her spine.

Ties to overseas operations, suspiciously under-the-radar accounts — and, most notably, an association with human trafficking syndicates.

She swallows, her fingers continuing to move over the keyboard in a rapid pace. A list of contacts connected to Ethan catches her eye, several names matching aliases from SHIELD's database of traffickers and corrupt officials. A few of the numbers that are listed appear to be burner phones, heightening her suspicions.

Natasha plugs in the USB stick and runs a deep scan of the files on Ethan's computer. A dense folder of corporate documents, mostly financial data — endless spreadsheets, balance sheets, transaction records. But, nestled among them, an invoice marked for 'freight services' from a shipping company she's never heard of.

It's not an innocent transaction — the total is unsettlingly large.

She pulls up the details, her eyes narrowing as she connects the dots to previous intel. And there it is again: an obscure company, linked to the same shadowy network she's seen before.

Dammit, Bailey, she thinks, taking a hasty sip of tea. What are you dragging them into?

As expected, her thoughts have drifted back to you. To you and Nina, completely oblivious to what Ethan — the man who's supposed to protect you and care for you — is doing.

And then there's Natasha — about to tear this entire network down, about to expose him to his family and countless others. She knows you'll have to find out eventually; it's only fair, after all. You deserve to know the full truth, even if it'll add yet another weight to your shoulders.

Part of her wonders whether you'll forgive her. She's been lying to you ever since that night at the art gallery, and she continues lying to you constantly. It's what she has to do to protect you and Nina.

Lingering affection wars with duty. Shield you from all of this or tell you the truth, let you live in this little bubble you've created for yourself or make it burst. Natasha shouldn't let her feelings get in the way, especially not when this entire mess concerns you and your daughter as well.

Every part of her being is trying to stop her from getting you involved in this. You don't deserve to be a part of this — but here you are.

And she's certain she'll do everything in her power to protect you, even if it means losing you once and for all.

Natasha sets the tea aside and grabs her phone. Her finger hovers above the call button for an excruciatingly long moment, then she decides against it. She leans back in her chair, starting to massage her temples. A dull ache has started to form behind her eyes.

It's a realization, a resolve, that hurts.

She'll have to use you somehow.

. . .

— MOMENTS IN FOCUS —

The sunlight filtering through the windows has a richness to it, making everything appear softer and more vibrant. Leaves dance in front of the floor to ceiling windows, shades of amber and russet that make the scenery outside look like the perfect October morning.

You look up from the ingredients in front of you — bananas, berries, a handful of spinach, all ready to be thrown into the blender — when you hear footsteps approach. Ethan pauses at your side, briefly glancing up from his phone to press a short kiss to your cheek.

"Good morning", he says, looking like the epitome of effortlessness. Hair wet and slicked back, a crisp white robe tied loosely around his waist. Nina doesn't even notice him; she's too engrossed in the picture in front of her, her tongue sticking out as she focuses on coloring within the lines of the butterfly. "What's on the menu?"

"Smoothies, scrambled eggs, yogurt with granola", you list off, turning on the blender. It hums softly as the colors swirl together, creating a nice pinkish shade.

"Hear that, Nina?", he asks, leaning against the counter next to you. She barely looks at him before going back to coloring, now choosing a purple crayon. "Jesus. We've really got to make sure she pays more attention. This is rude behavior."

"She's tired", you defend her, pouring the smoothie into two glasses and one plastic cup. "Also, it's 7 in the morning. You can't expect her to function properly at this hour, Ethan."

"Why not?", he counters, reaching around you to grab one of the smoothies. He takes a few big gulps, already sitting down at the breakfast table and reaching for the newspaper. "She's almost four. It's time she learns some manners."

"She has manners", you retort, crouching down in front of your daughter. She stops coloring, her eyes meeting yours expectantly as she waits for you to say something. "Breakfast is ready, sweetheart. Are you hungry?"

"No", Nina says, but gets up anyway. You smile and swiftly lift her into the air, then sit her down on the chair with her booster seat. She reaches for her cup, holding it with both hands as she takes a sip. "That's yummy."

"Thank you, baby." A kiss is planted on the top of her head, then you join them at the table.

Ethan looks up from the newspaper, casually drumming his fingers on the surface of the table. "Do you have anything planned for today?"

"Not that I know, no", you say, glancing at him. "Why? Did something come up?"

"Oh, yeah. This magazine — Art & Culture Monthly, you probably know them — called this morning. They want to feature the gallery's grand opening in their upcoming issue. It's a pretty big deal, you know? Anyway, they'll interview me and also feature our family."

You can hear the excitement in his voice, causing you to smile faintly. Of course — another thing he can add to his long list of achievements. You can't believe you thought he'd ask if you wanted to do something normal. Go to a pumpkin patch, maybe visit a park. Simple, ordinary things.

"Whatever. They want to take a few pictures of us later today — you, me, the kid. It'll be great for the gallery's reputation, and it'll really solidify our place in the art scene."

Your smile fades a bit. A photo shoot. You've done a couple of those before, but they were always for private usage. You don't want Nina's face to be printed in some magazine everyone can buy, even if basically no one would recognize her anyway.

"I don't know", you say hesitantly, handing Nina a napkin. She has some of the smoothie smeared across her chin and cheeks. "It's a bit unexpected. Plus, Nina is too young for that. She won't be able to sit still for that long."

"Hey, it's okay", he says, brushing off your concerns. "You'll be fine, Nina. Won't you? Anyways-" He turns to you without waiting for an answer, "it's a huge opportunity for us — for me, really. They want to showcase the perfect family, and we're pretty much spot on."

The perfect family — husband, wife, cute little daughter. Well-off but still relatable, at least in a way. Always happy, always fitting society's expectations. You're tired of being pushed into this mold.

You sigh, glancing at your daughter. She looks at you, not understanding too much. "Photos?", she asks curiously.

"Yeah, photos. A photo shoot", you say, feeling uneasy. "Are you sure this is necessary?"

"Come on", your husband pushes impatiently. "It won't take too long. Besides — it's not like you have anything to do, do you? You'd spend the entire day sitting around. At least you'll make yourself useful."

You roll your eyes. Yes, that's definitely the case. It's not like you have a toddler to take care of, right? And even if you do — it can't be as hard as what Ethan does, obviously.

"When do we have to be there?"

"Two hours", he says happily, eating a bite of his scrambled eggs. "By the way, did you put chives in this? You know I don't like chives."

. . .

It's an upscale studio, bustling with assistants, lights and backdrops. Ethan is just as polished as the space you're in, immediately stepping up to the photographer — an older man, balding, with tiny glasses and a sweater vest — and staff to charm them. You keep your daughter close, feeling out of place.

As much as you hate this — you have to admit that Nina looks impossibly cute in her outfit. A white cabled fisherman sweater, matching yours, paired with denim jeans in a light wash. A pastel yellow headband is keeping her hair out of her face, making her cheeks look even rosier than usually.

"Mommy, this is itchy", she whispers, tugging at the front of her sweater. You grimace, quietly sympathizing with your daughter. The fabric doesn't exactly feel nice on your skin.

"I know, honey", you reply in a hushed voice, making sure the assistants and photographer don't hear you.

"And it's bright", she adds, squinting as she accidentally looks at one of the lights. You snort in amusement, gently making her turn away so she doesn't let the brightness fry her eyes.

"Yeah, I know. It'll be over soon, alright?"

"You ready?", one of the assistants says, waving you over. You nod and gently nudge Nina along.

The photographer positions you in various poses — Nina perched on Ethan's knee, Ethan with his arm around you, you holding Nina. It feels rehearsed, like they know exactly what they want to sell. Which, realistically speaking, is probably the case here.

Picture after picture, pose after pose. You're not the only one who starts to get restless. You spot Nina fidgeting more than once, subtly reaching into her pockets to make sure her crayons are still there — crayons she brought along secretly.

"Stop that, please", the photographer's voice cuts through the air. You don't like the irritated tone with which he's speaking one bit, but you decide to ignore him.

Nina stops, quickly pulling her hand out of her pocket.

"Yes, perfect. Ideal!", he gushes, continuing to snap pictures of you. You smile, but it doesn't reach your eyes. You silently wonder whether anyone will look at the pictures and realize that you'd rather be anywhere else. Ethan won't, that's for sure — he's beaming, oblivious to your discomfort.

"Mommy?", Nina whispers as you pick her up, already clutching her crayons in her smaller hand. You're finally done after what feels like an eternity of posing and smiling stiffly. "Can we go home now?"

"Yes, sweetheart, we're going home", you nod, letting her nestle into you. "Let's just finish up here, okay?"

"Okay", she mumbles, her crayons pressed against the clean fabric of your sweater. They'll most likely leave stains, but you couldn't care less about that. You're just relieved you're done with this.

The drive home isn't silent, to your dismay. Ethan keeps going on and on and on about how great the photos are and how important this is and how it'll certainly elevate his public image. He's talking so much you're surprised Nina managed to doze off in her seat, her chin resting on her chest.

You don't bother responding — instead, you just stare out the window, your mind drifting. You wonder whether Natasha would've laughed at how absurd this whole thing is. You wonder what's she's doing, whether she's thinking about you.

In that moment, you get a text message.

Natasha: Hey, Y/N. This is a bit random, but does Ethan know a few guys in the whole arts world?

I'm looking into something for Tony. — 2.17 pm

You: Hey! I can ask him for a few of his

contacts and send you a list, maybe? — 2.17 pm

Natasha: That's perfect, thank you. — 2.18 pm

You look to your left when Nina stirs. She looks at your phone, rubbing one of her eyes with the back of her hand.

"Who is that?"

"That's Natasha", you say. Ethan doesn't even notice. He's now telling your chauffeur about the feature, again rambling about the interview and the art gallery. Part of you is thankful for that.

"Natasha?" Nina suddenly doesn't seem so sleepy anymore as her eyes light up. "Say hi!"

You smile at your daughter's enthusiasm. Seems like she's really starting to adore the redhead.

You: By the way, Nina says hi. She's all smiley. — 2.19pm

Natasha: Right back at her :) — 2.20pm

Natasha: Are you guys in town next week? There's this park near

the old tower, I think she'd love it. (I promise I won't hog the cookies

this time.) — 2.21pm

You glance at Nina. She looks at you, wide-eyed and practically buzzing with excitement.

"Natasha's asking if we want to go to a park with her", you say, reaching out to adjust her seatbelt. "What do you say, NeeNee?"

Your daughter immediately nods. "Yes, I want to go! Can we go?"

You smile faintly. "Sure, we'll go."

You text Natasha back, confirming the day and time. Then you slip your phone into your pocket.

You let out a small breath, your lips curving into a smile before you even realize it. The weight of your lousy day lingers, but it seems lighter now.

The idea of seeing Natasha tugs at your chest in a way you weren't prepared to unpack. It's almost absurd, how a simple text exchange could bring you such warmth. There's a faint flutter beneath your ribs, caused by a mix of excitement and a wary kind of anticipation.

It's been years, yet you still don't know what it is about Natasha Romanoff that can do this to you with such little effort.

. . .

It's a nice day — the October sun is warm but not overbearing, the chatter of children is echoing through the open space. You get out of the car and scoop the squirming child out of her booster seat, her hand tightly clutching her favorite stuffed bear. You set her on the ground, making sure she doesn't just run off.

"Mommy, can we go there first?", she asks, pointing at the swings. You smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Let's find Natasha first, sweetheart. Then maybe she can push you."

Your suggestion earns a gleeful nod. With her hand clasped in yours, you start making your way down the winding path leading into the park. The late-afternoon light dapples the ground through the trees, creating a peaceful but slightly surreal atmosphere — though maybe that's just your nerves.

You spot Natasha near a quiet corner of the park, leaning casually against the wooden fence by the playground. Her pose is relaxed, but her sharp eyes are scanning the area around her.

Once she sees you, her face softens.

"Natasha!", Nina yells, voice bubbling with excitement, and frees herself from your gentle grip to dart forward.

Natasha crouches down just in time to catch the girl in a gentle hug, her expression warm. "Hey, Tiny!"

You ignore the nickname and the way it sends butterflies through your stomach. Instead you approach her, your steps hesitant but steady. She straightens up, her eyes meeting yours, and the park fades into the background.

You feel a small rush of warmth — one that leaves you confused.

"Hi", you say, your voice quieter than intended.

"Hi", she responds, her tone equally soft. But her gaze lingers, taking you in, and the curve of her lips hints at something deeper. "Should we sit? Or does Nina have a playground mission I should know about?"

Nina tugs at Natasha's hand, a grin on her face. "Swings first!"

The little girl manages to slightly break the tension. You let out a laugh, shooting your daughter a fond look. "Looks like you've got your orders."

"Please", Nina adds, remembering the magic word. She keeps pulling at Natasha's hand, who plays along easily. She follows Nina to the playground, all while exchanging a brief look with you — a silent 'Is this okay?'

"Go ahead", you say, nodding, and follow them to the swings.

Leaves crunch beneath the soles of your shoes, the air having a slight bite to it already. A boy, slightly older than Nina, runs past with his father chasing after him. Laughter and voices carry through the air, allowing you to relax a little.

Natasha makes sure Nina's holding on tight before she takes the lead in pushing her. You stand next to them, arms loosely crossed over your chest to preserve some warmth.

"Higher!", Nina promptly demands, trying to glance at Natasha over the thick fabric of her scarf.

"Higher? What are you, a little daredevil in training? You're going to give your mom a heart attack!"

"She's already started", you say, mildly exasperated. "You should've seen her last week, when she tried to climb the bookshelf."

"Huh." Natasha smiles, her eyes briefly meeting yours. There it is again, that annoying tug of warmth. "Sounds like someone I used to know."

You huff, but you can't deny the truth behind her words. You shrug, pushing your hands into the pockets of your coat.

"You never complained."

"I didn't", she agrees, gently stopping the swing when Nina starts to talk about the merry-go-round. "Doesn't mean you didn't make my nerves fray, though."

"Please." You start walking to the merry-go-round, watching Nina speed ahead. "If anyone's nerves were frayed, it's mine. I watched you leave for missions on a weekly basis. I can't even count how many times I stitched you up afterwards."

"You make it sound like I was some kind of wrecking ball", she smirks.

"You didn't need to be." You let out an amused chuckle, your eyes glued to Nina as she sits down on the circular bench of the merry-go-round. "You were a force of nature, and I spent most of my time just trying to hold it together while you ran off into the chaos."

"You always did", she agrees, her voice quieter now. You stop when you reach the merry-go-round, watching Nina as she starts to spin around. "You were good at it, though. At stitching me up, I mean. Better than I deserved most days."

"Very true", you say, trying to keep it light. "I think I deserved a medal for keeping up with you."

"You mean for putting up with me?", Natasha corrects you, her hand briefly touching the handle of the merry-go-round to make sure it doesn't spin too fast.

A faint smile forms on your face. She's not entirely wrong — some of the time, it really was 'putting up with her'. Rolling with it, with her lifestyle, with the way every day seemed to be pure chaos.

You know it's not her fault. It's who she is, it's the life she ended up choosing for herself after never getting to have a choice. You were patient, too — you understood why she had to do all those things. Why she could never just rest.

"I'm just saying: most people would've thrown their hands up after the third emergency stitch job", you say mock seriously, earning a quiet laugh.

"Good thing you're not most people", she says, her smirk letting some tenderness shimmer through.

"Yeah", you agree, watching her. She's looking at Nina again, making sure she isn't spinning too fast or getting dizzy. Again and again you realize the same thing: only days later, Natasha fits in perfectly. Maybe that's what scares you the most. "Real good."

. . .

With Nina playing in a sandbox, you and Natasha get to be alone for a moment. You never take your eyes off your daughter to make sure she stays right where she is, but most of your attention is on the woman sitting next to you.

"I never knew how fast things could change", you speak softly, your words lingering in the chilly air. "I mean — one moment, I was making all these big plans. And now?"

"...now, you're a mom", Natasha says, smiling faintly as Nina smushes down her sandcastle.

"Yeah, exactly."

"You found a calmer life", she says, half to herself. It's bittersweet — she's glad you made it to a place where you don't have to worry about her or the dangers that come with the territory anymore. Now, your days are filled with cartoons and picture books and colorful bandaids. No more midnight missions, no more bloodies bandages. "A safer one."

"Calm and safe, sure", you mumble absently. "But I'm not so sure about...better."

Natasha turns to look at you, frowning slightly. What you said is odd enough, but the way you said it really threw her off. She scoots closer, her voice lowered.

"What are you talking about?"

You open your mouth to answer, but before you can say anything, Nina calls out to you. She's running, one hand clutching her teddybear. "I'm thirsty, mommy."

"Come here, honey." You grab a juice box from your backpack and hand it to her. She struggles with the straw for a moment, then she manages to poke it through the hole. The straw is now covered in grains of sand, making you grimace — but, of course, your daughter doesn't care about that.

She empties the juice box in record time, then she tosses it into the trash can. Off she goes again, her eyes locking onto the pony spring-rider. Natasha watches her with increasing fondness, silently wondering whether, in some other, faraway universe, this is what her life looks like.

"Always on the go", you say quietly, watching her. "So full of energy, I swear."

"I guess that's why I like her so much", Natasha says, glancing at you. You smile.

"She reminds you of yourself, huh?"

Natasha laughs under her breath, shrugging. "Maybe. Though I hope not too much."

You look down at your lap, at your hands that are resting there, and subtly toy with the ring on your finger. Your gaze shifts back to Natasha, a small, wistful smile on your face.

"I disagree. I wouldn't mind if she was a bit...wilder." You bite your lip, then add: "Like you. I mean, you were the one always pushing me out of my comfort zone. It was part of the deal: I tried to rein you in — unsuccessfully —, and you kept pushing."

Natasha smiles, her hand briefly reaching out to squeeze yours. You exhale softly at the simple touch — you haven't felt her skin against yours in years, but it's still the same.

"Did I ever do it right?", she ponders. "Push you the way you needed?"

"Maybe not always", you admit. "But you made me feel alive. Even when it was complicated."

. . .

"For you!", Nina says, handing a flower — a chrysanthemum — to Natasha. The redhead smiles, taking the small plant and twirling it between her fingers.

"A flower? For me? I'm honored!" Natasha turns to look at you, a teasing look on her face. "See? She already likes me better than most people."

You chuckle, lifting Nina into your arms. "I wouldn't be so sure", you say, smiling back just as teasingly. "She gave the mailman a flower last week, too."

"Oh really? And here I thought I was special."

You hum, adjusting your hold on your daughter. "You are special", you say, this time completely sincerely. You can't remember the last time Ethan spent the whole day with you like this — simply existing, doing things that aren't work-related, making sure Nina has fun. This was Natasha's idea, too — not yours. For the first time in a while, you don't feel isolated.

You clear your throat, giving a quick nod. "Well, uhm...thank you. For this. She really had fun."

Natasha hesitates, her gaze flickering from the flower to your face. "I didn't just come for her", she eventually speaks, the words hanging in the air as you exchange a look. You swallow, managing a faint smile.

"Let's not get too sentimental", you say, trying to sound lighthearted. You nudge Nina to distract yourself. "Say bye, honey."

Nina waves at Natasha. A few hours of playing outside in the fresh air have turned her cheeks rosy. "Bye, Natasha!"

"Bye, Tiny."

Another quick glance at each other, then you part ways. Natasha goes in one direction, you go in the other. Years linger between you, years that were spent together and that keep you close. There's a pull that's close to magnetic, and you're not sure how you managed to resist it for such a long time.

Both of you wonder whether you were ever able to truly leave your past behind — or if, somehow, you're still tangled in it, just waiting for the right moment to unravel.

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

🌙 tagged (as per request): @fxckmiup

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #x reader #fanfic #wlw #marvel #fluff #angst #moon’s fics

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crescenthistory · 6 months ago

Note

hi pookie!! it was actually my birthday a few days ago and i was wondering if maybe you could write a regulus x reader fic where it's reader's birthday? (prompt b.12) if not, that's totally fine! take ur time bub :))

~🍓

i'm usually not a birthday fic kinda gal, but i'll make an exception for you my love<33 i hope you had a super birthday the other day, sending you big bday hugs!

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, slightly suggestive (implied aftercare), kissing, toothrotting fluff, wolfstar reference, implied black family trauma (super brief)

Your chest is still slightly damp beneath Regulus' t-shirt that he gave you about twenty minutes ago, but your breath is coming at slow, regular intervals again. The dorm around you is wonderfully empty, Barty and Evan banished for the night, which they only reluctantly agreed to when you gave them a “it’s my birthday tomorrow and I want to wake up with my boyfriend” pout. It feels private, intimate, in a way you relish in.

Here, curled up against Regulus’ chest with your fingers tracing constellations between the moles on his fair skin, is the first comfort you have felt all week. The kind that sinks into the bone and warms you through winter. His sheets are warm too where they are draped across your forms, and you feel increasingly like one singular being, heartbeats synced.

His lips are tracing faint butterfly kisses across your hairline and forehead, absentmindedly, as if it’s second nature to him by now. Maybe it is.

This is all you needed.

“What are you thinking about, amour?” His breath fans across your face as he murmurs against your skin.

“You.” The word is spoken around curved lips and you feel his begin to match yours as he hums contently into your hair. “How nice this is.”

“It’s been a hectic week for you, hasn’t it?” he says, voice laced with empathy and understanding.

You just hum in response, burying your face deeper into his shoulder. You begin kissing at the skin you find there, light and soft in comparison to the passionate ones you shared earlier. It feels right to have both, like your heart is being completed.

“So good. You’re so good,” he whispers adoringly, and while you don’t know if he is referring to your handling of said week or something else, you’re fairly certain you’ll accept any and all praise slipping from his lips.

You tilt your head up to look at his eyes and find them already gazing at you. Regulus’ hand comes up to brush over the side of your face, from your temple to your cheekbone and jaw. “Yeah?” you ask through a smile.

He breathes out something akin to a laugh and whispers back, “Yeah. The best.”

Stretching your neck only slightly, you lean up to give him a soft and delectably slow kiss, savouring the feeling of his lips between yours. He reciprocates in full, humming against you when you support some of your weight with a hand on his chest. You feel his heartbeat beneath it and burrow your fingertips deeper, as if in search of it.

“Do you have anything specific you want to do tomorrow?” Regulus muses when you separate and you begin pressing kisses along his jaw and cheek instead.

“Nothing at all. Not leaving this room.” While your heart means it, your mind is a more logical being and thus doesn’t, so your words come out with a slight laugh, a joke at how stupidly good it would have been.

“Hiding out from the world with me?” A cheeky grin before he captures your lips with his again briefly. “Sounds like the best birthday ever.”

Supporting your own weight isn’t ideal when you’re still a tad worn out, so you lay down with your head on his shoulder again and he runs his hand comfortingly up and down your arm when he feels it shaking. You keep your eyes on his though, head tilted up with a look that contains more worry than Regulus cares for.

“I still have to do quite a bit of reading for my History of Magic project,” you say in the same tone as someone would use to convey their life sentence in prison. “So I’m going to have to hole up in the library for quite a while tomorrow, birthday be damned.”

Regulus cannot fight the tsk-ing sound that escapes him as he frowns in sympathy. “I’m no expert on the perfect birthday, but I’m quite certain that’s not in the recipe.”

“I know,” you groan, burying your head into his flesh. “I know, but I have to.”

“You have to do no such thing, pretty girl.” He kisses the top of your head to coax you back out from hiding. “Don’t think about the project tomorrow, I’ll help you get back into it the day after.”

“Absolutely not,” you try, but you recognise the look in his eyes as one you are rarely able to defeat. “Reggie, baby, you have enough on my plate.”

“Yet the most important thing on it is you.” He says it almost fiercely, passionately, but when you lift a smug brow at him at his unintended double meaning, he jokingly swats at you. “Don’t sully my declaration of love, you heathen. I’m saying I’ve got you.”

You kiss him part in apology and part selfishly because his lips jutted out enticingly when he pretend pouted. “I know, and I love you for it, but you can’t help me with that big of a project baby, you just can’t.”

“There is no such rule in the boyfriend handbook,” Regulus says solemnly, as if reciting scripture. In theory, he technically is because when Regulus first opened up to Sirius about his anxiety of ruining things with you, the older boy made the ugliest homebound book titled How To Be A Good Boyfriend When Your Parents Fucked You Up Real Bad.

When Regulus questioned Sirius’ expertise on the matter, he said Remus made it based on all the missteps Sirius already had made in their relationship.

“Maybe not,” you reply. “But you forget the first rule: a girlfriend’s word is always more important than any silly rule in any stupid handbook.”

Regulus rolls you over onto your back so he can attack your neck with kisses, likely because he had no actual argument against that. “Querulous girl,” he made out between kisses but your laughter drowned him out.

When he came back up to hover his face above yours, bicep flexing beside your head as he held himself up, his hair was somehow even more messed up than before and oh so pretty. His eyes too, filled to the brim with love and humour, softening as he saw the clear flash of admiration across your own face.

“Let me spoil you,” he whispers, kissing your cheeks, your eyes, your forehead, your nose. “You deserve it, amour. You deserve everything.”

You thought you heard a small “I don’t deserve you” muttered when he kissed your head, but you couldn’t be certain. Nonetheless you brought his face into your hands to press a resounding kiss to his lips to shut down any such stupid thoughts.

“I love you, you know.” Your smile was blinding, but Regulus looked good in the light.

“I know,” he whispers back. “I love you. And I am not letting you sit in the library on your birthday, no matter how many cute dates we’ve had there. Tomorrow is about you – nothing matters but you.”

Tears almost well in your eyes, but you blink them away. Your voice is still watery when you whisper a soft, “Okay.”

“Okay?” A grin starts to form over his previously soft smile. He gives you no time to respond before his lips sweep down to catch yours once more.

He captures your bottom lip between his two, swiping his tongue slowly across and breathing a soft sigh into your mouth as you allow him access. Leaning more of his weight on you, he continues to deepen the kiss, feeling you completely, as he has so many times before and as he will again.

You aren’t certain when it was you fell asleep, time floating around you like soap bubbles, irrelevant but beautiful in its presence nonetheless. What you do know, is that when you fall asleep it is with your body held close to his. And that when you woke up, it was to soft kisses across your face and a “happy birthday, amour” whispered in your ear.

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eupheme · 1 year ago

Text

— a good, good neighbor

john hancock x f!sole survivor/reader

rated e - 2.8k

tags: friends-with-benefits vibes, mutual yearning & jealousy, mention of chem usage, references to threesome, horny!desperate!hancock, desk/office sex, semi-public sex, piv, blowjobs

prompts: “i want to fuck you so badly” + “i'm simply enjoying the view. it's not every day i get to fuck someone so pretty.”

“How did you imagine us?”

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk or bending you over it.”

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

(Or - when you come back from a mission, Hancock can’t wait to get his hands on you)

Despite the bustle inside the Third Rail, it’s all just dull noise.

Hancock can’t say he’s heard a word Fahrenheit has said. It’s not his fault she had cornered him inside the entrance, right as he was on his way in.

Where he has a perfect view of the bar.

A perfect view of you, where you perch on one of the stools in front of Charlie. Looking like a dream, in your soft, faded clothes.

Not that he doesn’t like your vault suit. The way it fits like a glove around your hips and thighs, the swell of your tits.

He’s always been a fan.

But there’s something about this - how you look like you belong here, with him. It’s been a while since he’s felt his heart stir, but you really seemed to have woken it up.

His partner huffs, finally stepping to the side. Her own plans tonight, eyes already drifting over to the stage. A long-suffering sigh - a hand that pushes her undercut back, a scrunch of her nose.

“Remind me to let you two… debrief next time, before I talk to you.”

Hancock grins, only now coming back, “You got it, sister.”

He owes her one. Tomorrow he’ll sit down and really listen, but it’s been a long fuckin’ week and the chems he downed in his office are just now taking effect.

Tipping him towards being too high to be jealous that you’re talking to another ghoul - a sentiment that he’s only just becoming acquainted with.

That was never really his style, before now.

And just a tad too sober to suggest Deegan just join them, if your conversation doesn’t wrap up soon.

Really fuckin’ soon.

It’s as he sidles up to you that he notices just how good you truly look. Scrubbed clean from the wasteland, and he’s already imagining you in the Rexford, hands sliding over your wet curves in the shower.

Getting ready to come here, applying that pretty shade of red that darkens your lips - a treasure found on a recent favor you did for Daisy.

Something that had kept you away for days, his jaw gritting as you had left without him.

It’s the same shade as his coat - and that does something, too. A clenching in his guts, a wash of need as he imagines it marking up his cock. A pretty ring around the base, staining his skin.

Christ, he needed to get it together.

Your eyes brighten when you see him, “I was hoping you’d find me. Heard you were still working.”

He fits against you, leaning on the bar. A hand draping across your shoulder - eager to touch, as your head tips up to his.

“Never too busy for my favorite girl.”

The smile you give him, those pretty painted lips stretched wide, shoots straight to his cock. Uncomfortable, where it strains against the front of his trousers - and maybe, he just might be head-over-heels.

He needs to get out of here.

“You want to get out of here?” He asks - the back of your neck warm where his palm curves around it, thumb brushing over soft skin.

Feeling the low hum in your throat, as you answer.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

“I want to fuck you so badly.”

Hancock growls it in your ear, as he wrenches the door to the Old State House open. Bypassing your room at the Rexford, opting for something closer.

He always seemed to like you in his bed. Late nights turning into slow mornings, getting acquainted with the soft drag of fingers against skin. Comparing scars until you’ve learned each and every one.

You think he’d keep you there, if he could. If you both weren’t so prone to wandering.

The rough admission sends your pulse racing. Never expecting to miss someone like you did him. Never thinking you’d get a chance like this again.

But something about being with Hancock feels so easy. Something invisible that ties you to him, but that tether is never-ending. Both of you always finding your way back to each other, in a slow orbit.

Never knowing what it truly meant to know that someone had your back - until you were looking down the barrel of something you weren’t supposed to come back from, out in the wasteland.

Knowing he would be there, as soon as you called.

“Then fuck me,” You sigh against him, at the landing of the second-floor staircase. The railing pressing into your back as his tongue licks into your mouth.

Hands fisting in the collar of his frock as his hips roll against yours. Getting turned around in path back to his room.

Ending up across the hall, in his new office. The door still cracked open as you both stumble inside. A soft sound of surprise when you find yourself bumping up against a heavy wooden desk, instead of the couches you’ve come to know so well.

He’s already herding you to the other side, moving his chair out of the way. Hoisting you onto the edge, before stepping between spread thighs.

Mouthing at your jaw, hands slipping beneath your shirt.

“Wrong room,” You sigh, as your arms wrap around his shoulders.

“Right fuckin’ room.” His hips meet yours, rolling himself against your core, “Know how many times I’ve dreamed about having you in here?”

The thought of him thinking of you has your thighs tightening around his hips. A needy moan when his hand fondles a breast over the fabric of your bra, before it’s slipping beneath.

“How-” You start, and then squeak as his fingers pinch against the tight peak of your nipple, “How did you imagine us?”

His black eyes are hazy when he pulls back. A shine on his lips from where his tongue soothed a mark left against your neck.

“Every way,” Hancock husks, “Keeping my cock warm while I work. Eating you on the desk, or bending you over it.”

You whine at the thought - a jolt of pleasure arcing through you as his hips jerk against yours, grinding against your clothed core.

“Hell, I’ve even thought about the balcony. I’d take you right over the fuckin’ railing if you’d let me.”

God, it’s tempting. Heat flaring to life in your cheeks at the thought - knowing he would.

He’s opened the doors to a lot of new aspects of yourself, but there’s still a shred of your old-world modesty that clings to you.

But it still sends a liquid warmth pooling in your belly. He can feel the way your hands tighten their grip that you’re picturing it too.

The balcony is out of the question, but the rest…

Your palms push at his shoulders, and he allows you just enough room to get down. To flip around until your hips are flush with the edge of the wide desk.

“Why don’t you show me?” You coo, with a glance over your shoulder, “Mister Mayor.”

There’s a flash of teeth with his smile - words as sweet and smooth as honey, “Sweetheart, call me that again and I’ll show you anything you want.”

His hand is quick to press at the small of your back, bending you across his desk like he had imagined. Your hand slipping down to work at the button and zipper of your pants, where he’s already gripping at the fabric to tug your layers down.

Hancock’s hips press into your bare center. Nudging the hard, clothed curve of his cock against yours, fingers already smoothing over your skin. Gripping on before nails drag over the curve of your ass, then slipping between your thighs.

You stifle a moan when he touches you, all slick and swollen already. A day-long lingering anticipation of seeing him, keyed up by his own laid-bare desire.

“You miss me, doll?” Hancock husks, when he finds how wet you are. The tips teasing your clit as he frees himself.

Fingers petting at your folds. Slicking them up until he can smear your arousal against his cock - the rough skin shining in the windows of light that peek in from the city outside.

“Yes,” You whine - he always seems to pull things from you, when he has you like this. Making you soft, willing to lay yourself open if it means he keeps touching you, “Hancock, please-”

The word strings out - as he grasps at your hips, tugging you back just as he drives himself deep into you. This is what you needed - the aching stretch, the way your blood sings already.

Squirming when he stays still, slipping half-way while his hands keep you pinned against the desk.

“Don’t slow down now,” You huff, as you rock back into his touch.

Hancock’s own laugh is low and throaty - you gasp when you feel his fingers slip from your hip. Boldly tracing where you stretch around him, letting his thumb rub at your clit until he can feel you clench.

“Just enjoying the view.” He husks, “It’s not every day I get to fuck someone so pretty.”

His words shoot straight through you, settling in your heart. So much understood and even more left unsaid.

You’re used to the before, when there were neat labels and expectations. Left on uneven footing now, with how the world has changed.

Maybe even scared to bare yourself fully - to let yourself feel so deeply for another person again.

But surely this - this partnership, his words, him - must mean something.

“It could be.”

It slips from you with a sigh, too late to snatch back. Something fluttering in your belly, a heady mix of apprehension and pleasure as he growls - a sharp thrust that has him filling you again.

A shift of his fingers until he’s circling your clit, with just the right pressure that he knows you need. A shallow roll of his hips that starts slow, and steady.

“That right?” His voice is low, lilting up at the end.

You couldn’t really ask him to join you - but tonight, you could pretend. The time you had spent together on the road was some of your best moments in this aftermath.

But you respected his decision to stay, to work a little harder at this Mayor business. Even if it had left you unsure of where you stood with each other.

Even if you did miss him, want him by your side.

“Yeah,” You manage, “Keeping touching me like that and, yeah-”

You can hear the smile in his voice as he answers, “Sunshine, you’re gonna have a harder time getting me to stop.”

He makes good on his promise.

A hand catching under your thigh, hoisting your knee onto the desk top. Opening you up further - a stifled cry pulling from you when he nudges deeper, stroking a spot inside you that steals your breath.

The door is still ajar - the thought of your whines and the slick drive of his cock has your heart pounding.

You’re sure he’d love that too - the shout of his name as he makes you come, echoing to where the drifters sleep above, and where the Watch lingers. The sound of his hips knocking yours into the desk, the rhythmic creak of old wood.

It still lingers as a whimper - bitten back as the pleasure builds. He hasn’t forgotten in the time you’ve been apart, pounding into you again and again. His touch circling just as he bottoms out, a pressure in his own belly with each gasp he pulls from you.

“Fuck, John.” You keen - a number already seeming to tick down inside you, with each circuit of his fingertips, “I’m gonna come-”

“That’s my girl,” He coos - keeping the same rhythm, the same steady pound that threatens to break you, “Give it to me. Soak my fuckin’ cock, sweetheart.”

His girl.

It echos - your cry going silent, when as the pleasure washes over you. Leaving you trembling as you ride out the waves of pleasure, meeting the thrusts that grow lazy.

You needed this, needed it as much as he does. So much packed noise inside your brain going quiet the harder he fucked you, now blissfully silent.

“Look at you,” It’s muted, as your back arches - as you drip around his cock, “You feel so fucking good, not gonna last-”

Almost as if he gets off to this - making you come. Taking you apart, until each breath is a wrung-out gasp, your fingers curling into fists.

It leaves you thinking that if he’s staying here - if he’s been thinking about you, you’ll give him something to remember.

Another check off of his list.

“Hancock,” You breathe - eyes heavy and dazed as you glance over your shoulder.

Where he’s arced over you - grinding himself deep. His own gaze blown-wide with need as it tips to meet yours.

“Come in my mouth,” You beg, “Let me taste you.”

Eyes flicking to his chair, still pulled up next to the desk. He’s always been able to follow you, a rough sound in his throat when the catches what you mean.

“Fuck.” His hips stutter, before he’s slipping from you, “Yeah. Yeah, doll. Anything you want.”

You’re sinking to unsteady knees in front of him, as he drops down into the chair. Knees spread wide as your hands run up his thighs, to where his cock hangs heavy against the unzipped fabric.

Already missing him inside you. A rough groan when your hand wraps around, before you’re swallowing him down. Tasting yourself smeared across him, as your cheeks hollow, your fist pumps.

“So fuckin’ perfect, you know that?” Hancock hisses, the words coming out ragged. Hips bucking into the wet suction of your mouth.

No teasing this time, no kitten-licks. Just the familiar weight of him on your tongue, the jerk of your spit-slicked fist.

A ragged sound slipping from him when your eyes drag up to meet his. Peeks of reddened and rough skin along the way that make you want to take a bite as well.

Noticing how he’s marked up with you - faded shades of red stained on his lips and chin. Littered across on his cock, down to the base.

You think you like the look of it, something warm flickering in your belly - an echo of the pleasure he gave you before.

Wanting him to think about you every time he sits here, after you leave. The feeling of your mouth around him, how hard you made him come. Leaving your own mark on this room, as well.

He groans at the way you watch, the soft lap of your tongue. How you squeeze him bringing him closer - waiting for him to show you how much he needs you.

“Fuck. You’re gonna make me come, gorgeous.” It’s a rough warning, as his hand cradles your jaw. The bite of nails against your neck, as his hips buck.

The groan he makes is loud and low - shameless - as he comes. His cock throbbing in your mouth, each pulse leaking his spend as you swallow him down. Coaxing every drop from him, until you’ve taken it.

Keeping him in your mouth, after - your tongue sweeping lazily across his skin, until he goes soft. Easing off him then, letting your head rest against his thigh.

Hancock’s head still tips back, lost in that soft haze. The shallow rise and fall of his chest, a week’s worth of want spilled across your tongue.

“Was that like you imagined?”

There’s the tilt of his head as he grins, his thumb reaching to press against your lower lip - a low growl when you nip at it.

“Even fuckin’ better.”

The room shifts in front of you - Hancock’s boot propped against the desk, sending the chair back and forth on a slow sway.

Your legs thrown over the armrest, where you sit in his lap. The sounds of Goodneighbor muted outside, as the lights spill across the floor in the dark room.

“Thought I’d stick around a couple days.” You tell him, “Skip out later this week, maybe.”

“You just got in.” He rasps, fingers tracing a pattern against your shoulder, “Got somethin’ going already?”

You hadn’t planned on it. Had been hoping to stick around Goodneighbor for a while. Spend some time with him, before heading out.

But…

“Edward asked me to do a job for him,” You stifle a yawn, your head tilted against his, “Some girl he works for ran off, said she does that all the time.”

Duty always calls.

"Edward?" Hancock’s brow lifts.

“Deegan?”

His tongue clicks against his teeth, a soft pinch of his fingers against your skin, “Didn’t know you and Deegan were that chummy. Edward, huh?”

Your elbow sinks into his ribs, and he grins.

“Well, you don’t gotta wait on me,” He hums, already thinking ahead. “You wanna get this show on the road tomorrow?”

A small mark puckers your brow as you lean to face him, your gaze searching.

“I thought you stopped running.” It’s soft - a question, hidden in your words.

Hancock huffs, “Not running.”

His voice drops - a softness to his beetle-black eyes as he thumbs at your chin, drawing your mouth down to his.

“Just realized I’d rather be by your side.”

With his admission, the hungry press of his lips…

You think you fall just a little harder.

loved the idea of a desperate/lovey Hancock paired with a sweetly oblivious “what are we” Sole, haha 💖 thanks for reading!! and for this perfect request!

#john hancock x reader #john hancock x sole survivor #hancock x sole survivor #hancock x reader #fallout 4 smut #hancock #hancock fo4

841 notes · View notes

moonstruckme · 4 months ago

Note

ok yeah. i can't stop thinking about that doctor pls i need doctor remus follow up or something im dead

Based on this ask

cw: mention of giving blood, lightheadedness

doctor!Remus x fem!reader ♡ 447 words

You rouse to hands on your shoulders. Cold tile against your backside, and the hum of a nice voice.

“Hi, love,” it says. The hands seem to get you where they want to, your neck and shoulders resting against something warm and soft. One cups the back of your head gingerly. “Could you open your eyes the rest of the way for me, please?”

You think you’d do anything for someone who talks to you like that. The lights in the room are harsh, but a figure cuts through them, a man perhaps just older than you. His head, gentle features and a mop of tawny brown hair, hovers over yours. It’s then that you remember where you are.

You’re at the doctor’s office, in the small private room they took you to for your blood draw, and you appear to be in this doctor’s lap.

“There we are,” he says, using a hand to shield your eyes from the fluorescent lights. “I’m Remus. Do you know where you are?”

“Doctor’s?” you mumble.

Remus smiles. “Very good. I have some juice for you here.” He looks away from your face, reaching for something on the floor beside you. “Could you tilt your head down a tad to drink it, please? Yeah, like that. Thank you.”

You drink from a juice box with his hand supporting your head. Remus encourages you to take small sips, wiping the corner of your mouth gently when you’re done. You worry you might faint again at the brush of contact; though, really, you probably ought to be more concerned about the contact you’re having with the rest of him.

“It seems like you had some trouble with the blood draw,” he says in a kind voice. “Is that something that happens often?”

You try out your voice, clearing your throat. “No. No, I’ve never done that before.”

Remus hums. “Do you feel okay?”

Honestly? You’re not sure. You feel deeply, horrendously out of sorts, having woken to find yourself in the lap of the most handsome man you’ve ever seen. At the same time, you think you might be the best you’ve ever been.

“I—I think so,” you manage.

Remus gives you a little smile. “It would be perfectly normal to be a bit shaken up,” he says. The hand not behind your head has found your forearm and begun tracing small, seemingly thoughtless, circles into your skin. “Losing consciousness isn’t easy on the body. It’s alright if you feel out of sorts.”

“Yeah,” you breathe, woozy all over again. “That must be it.”

Remus hums sympathetically. “Let’s just stay here for a while, then. I’ll have someone get you a snack.”

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1uvtae · 1 year ago

Text

i think i just saw my ex. | jeon jungkook

★ word count: 10k- yay!

★ genre: classic exes to lovers,,,with slightly suggestive smut,,,and fluff...and the typical mutual pinning that may be a tad (a lot) angst... also TENSION. SOO MUCH TENSION!!!!! and both y/n and jungkook are trying to play hard to get which might be a bit crack up!!!

★ summary/snippet: jeon jungkook is your ex from many years ago, and you think you might've just seen him in a bar…and a part of you is definitely craving him.

★ kae's little chat: playing the typical kae exes to lovers theme, cos all i write about is exes to lovers micro-fics!! (this might be the only thing i'm good at writing) I recently just bought this glazed donut lanolips lip balm and it is what I religiously used while writing this fic for a whole ass week and I hope this fic tastes and smells like glazed donuts to you guys too ;) also a quick tag for @cassies-cookies!!! the fic has arrived!!!

enjoy a little teaser before you start!! can i consider this as an appetizer??

do you want to give me some feedback? request something fun? chit chat with me?!

this is my masterlist and drabble list for more of my works!

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

you are 99.9% sure you just saw your ex.

you can't add that 0.1% on because 1) it is so darn dark in this bar, the annoying flashing lights poking through your eyes and into your soul, and 2), you are drunkenly intoxicated right now.

but gosh, that side profile looks almost identical to him. you've tried to follow him with your gaze, but all you got to closely view was the back of his head. (the very familiar back of his head, may you add.)

this isn’t something you expected on a nice friday evening.

when you randomly woke up in the middle of the night, you realised you typed quite some texts and paragraphs to that familiar number of his, but it seemed like you were way too drunk to hit “send”. thank god.

blank-eyed, staring at the unsent texts, you felt a stinging pain in your chest.

you’re not the type to go back to any of your exes, and all your break-ups have been straightforward and savage. plus, you dumped him first!!!

you sit up on your bed, finger tracing over the floral details of your quilt cover. maybe it was because your partners after him have all been so lame, yes definitely that. additionally, you’ve been very single and lonely for the past few months, that’s exactly why you are missing him.

he wasn’t the perfect boyfriend, you remember how childish he was, and was quite protective over you- which was one of the reasons you two didn’t end well.

but on the other hand…

he was a really good sex partner. you two mended flawlessly together. not to boost his ego or something, but that boy definitely can fuck.

you sighed loudly, pulling the covers over your head. the night is still so long, but you do not have any of the calmness to fall back into sleep.

oh, the long, dark night.

after a whole day of debating and contemplating, you ended up hanging out with a few of your friends back at that specific bar. tonight, you needed someone to get your mind off your ex that you saw yesterday.

when excusing yourself to the bathrooms, you brushed past someone's shoulder in the hallways while scrolling through your instagram feed; he had a broad and tall frame, and his vividly tattooed hand holding a glass cup, and you felt the urge to jerk your head back to see his face.

thinking “this is someone to take my mind off him!!”, you turn your head and your wild imagination completely halts. you feel your eyes widen and your pupils might as well fall onto the ground - it’s your ex.

thank god you just got your hair done a few days back and you were head down, focusing on your phone the whole time, so he didn’t even glance at you. your heart completely dropped and skipped a beat, and you rushed into the bathroom to freshen up.

after you walked out of the restroom, you carefully scanned every table for his silhouette, after locating the target, you walked a good lap around his booth to eye him out. fairly, he wasn’t hard to look for, judging by his clean undercut under those dark brown locks, and his perfect complexions, everyone seemed to notice him the way you did. you spot two girls walking up to him, offering him drinks in exchange for his number.

you were now more than certain that this was your ex… and you’re also certain that you’ll never get over how attractive he is.

once you’ve fallen for jeon jungkook, you’ll never fall out.

on the way home you remembered how hard you worked to get him to date you, it was almost rejection after rejection. and then you dumped him?! gosh, now it will be even more difficult to get his attention.

you feel like giving up instantly at that thought, but you cannot help yourself texting your mutual friend yerin: “did jungkook come back?”

your friend did not respond, which leads to whatever you’re doing right now - sitting on your couch, stalking through social media accounts. it was not under his old username, which made it difficult to find. but you remembered his dog’s name.

after typing bam’s name into the search bar, it only took a few scrolls to find a decent amount of photos and videos of the brown doberman. after clicking into his account, you sigh. he never posts himself, just some more dog posts and a few random scenery shots.

continuing to watch every single video of bam, you see that the newest video of the cute dog was taken in another location that didn’t look like the place from the video from before. clicking on the comments, one from his friend reads “you moved?” he replied: “yeah”

you moved, or did you come back?

just realizing what you’ve been doing stupidly for the last 20 minutes, you lock your screen and toss your phone onto the coffee table. your friend responded right after the phone dropped onto the surface.

“yeah, he quit his job last month, he probably came back”

did he quit his job?

although he moved to a different city after the breakup, he still worked for the same company you worked for - that could’ve been a reason to reconnect. but now that he has quit that job, it makes it impossible for you to even have an excuse to hit him up.

yerin double-texted, “what’s up abt jungkook?”

you: i think i saw him recently

you: he’s still so fine

yerin understood your tone extremely well, responding immediately: do you want me to plan a group dinner or something this week

you: yes please, i’m free every night this week

yerin: y/n, i meant ONLY group dinner…nothing else.

you: of course just dinner…what were you thinking?

yerin: i know you way too well

yerin: you obviously don’t only want dinner

you: hm

yerin was very speedy with her planning skills, the dinner was booked to be this friday night, it wasn’t weird at all since you and jungkook did have the same social circle for years, and considering he just came back, it was just more of a couple of friends and coworkers gathering together to celebrate. but yerin did not hint to him that you were also going to attend this dinner at all.

you stood in front of the mirror, your outfit was carefully picked out, and you spent almost 2 hours doing your makeup- in these years, your style has changed drastically, but you still wore the same fragrance he gifted you.

to create your ‘grand entrance’, you decided to show up late by 20 minutes, just so you can look casual and not too prepared to see jungkook. when you were on the road, you received a speedy text from yerin: be mentally prepared for what’s coming.

huh? be prepared for what?

when you were led to the table of the reservation, you realized what she meant.

you recognised every single face, except one. there was an unfamiliar girl seated right next to jungkook. jungkook wore a casual black hoodie, his hair slightly fluffing out. looking almost too soft to touch. you tried very hard not to lay your eyes on him for too long - since you already got a very personal look from the girl that was seated next to him.

yerin mutters under her breath when you seat yourself next to her, which is right across him. “he brought that random girl over.”

you keep that in mind, starting to greet your friends, then shooting a look back at yerin, then whispering “if you told me this was gonna happen i would’ve turned around on the spot and sprinted back home!!!”

(yerin did tell you after the meal that the second you walked into the room, there were almost no expressions on his face. you don’t know if he was already expecting you, or if he just did not care about you whatsoever.)

you hope it’s not the second option.

the dinner was french cuisine, everyone had already ordered some sort of grilled steak while you decided to order sole fish fillets. sipping your chardonnay, you oversee the girl nudge jungkook’s arm, softly asking, gesturing at your transparent drink: “kook, what did that girl order?” he puts his glass down, responding with a gentle tone: “white wine. you pair white wine with fish. wine with red meats.” “so that's why you ordered red wine for me?” she nods before asking again.

“mhm.” he nods in response, taking a sip of water, with his very charming and endearing smile.

you almost knock over your wine glass when slamming it back down on the table with aggression, suddenly this chardonnay tastes like fucking ass.

you listen quietly to everyone talking about careers and how they’ve been doing recently, jungkook occasionally opens his mouth to input or say something. you realize how mature he has grown over these years, he speaks like a logical, grown man, and is completely not the person you were with a while back. you remember the old gatherings when you and he were dating - he barely says a word during the whole meal. not going to lie, this well-spoken jungkook is super attractive.

the main course came very fast after the drinks. you gasp at the fancy plating. the girl in front of you takes her knife and fork, struggling to slice the red meat. she slowly glances over to jungkook, and he notices her stare, speedily finishing up cutting up his plate, and offering her his already perfectly sliced steak, taking her uncut serving for himself.

after that, you put down the knife and fork, containing yourself to not roll your eyes.

that was an eyeful. might as well just not eat this shitty meal.

after that awful meal, they all planned to go for a second round, but jungkook said that he couldn’t go because he had to drive the girl home. after hearing that, you lost every interest you had in going for shots, which caused you to head straight home on a friday evening at 9 pm. how eventful.

taking a thoughtful and steamy shower, you decided to put a face mask on. a notification from no other than yerin broke the night’s silence.

yerin: jungkook’s here

you bounced up from your bed, replying within a millisecond.

y/n: huh? why is he there?

yerin: he’s sitting on the table next to ours

yerin: u coming?

you close your eyes, every single imagination you had got crushed today when you saw the girl that he brought. it was almost hurtful now that you think about it.

yerin continued to add: he didn't bring the girl, if that’s what you’re wondering

hm…you hesitated for a while, but gave up. you can’t be interested in someone with a girlfriend-

yerin: and!! tae was being nosy so he asked him

yerin: turns out that the girl was just a blind date his mum arranged

yerin: not his gf

yerin: u still have a chance yk!!

you yanked the face mask off, rushing to redo your makeup again. you didn’t even bother to drive there, calling an uber instead. before entering the bar, you ensured yerin grabbed jungkook to sit at the same table.

just when everything was planned beautifully and you were ready to make your grand entrance pt2, you bumped into a client who was by the bar table. how can you reject a business client? quick answer: you can’t. it’s a business client.

having to sit with a stranger by the bar table, but unable to walk to that table with your friends (and your ex) might be the biggest struggle you’ve ever gotten yourself into. by the time you and the client had finished chatting and drinking, jungkook had left not only the table but the entire nightclub.

oh my gosh, you are going to lose your mind! a whole full stomach of alcohol and yet you still haven’t gotten to use your flirting tactics on your ex that you’ve been missing. you did not feel like staying at all, dragging yerin to get out of this hellhole.

but who knew you’d see him again in the parking lot?

every cloud has a silver lining.

and there jungkook stood, leaning against his flashy black mercedes, phone to his ear. the second you saw him, you knew what to do. you were going to fake being drunk. you link arms with yerin, stumbling your steps and attempting to slur your words. yerin has to straighten you up manually when she goes over to jungkook. “hey jungkook! i thought you already left.” jungkook puts the phone back into his pocket. “i was just about to.”

yerin wasn’t hesitant at all, almost shoving you at him, thinking he’d help grab onto you, but he did not move a single muscle. her last resort was to lean you against the car. “perfect! can you drive y/n home? the girls are still waiting for me so…”

he opened his mouth to speak, you figured he was going to reject yerin. before a single sound came out of his mouth, yerin quickly interrupted him, “amazing! thanks so much, dude!! okayimjustgonnago-!” from your peripheral vision, you could see her almost sprint from the parking lot back into the front door of the club.

all that was left was you, who was faking drunk, and jungkook, with his brows, knitted, looking down at you.

judging from how rapidly yerin ran away from you, jungkook knows he can’t do anything else other than drive you home. he sighed and held open the passenger’s door for you. he raised his chin, gesturing you to hop in.“get in yourself.” he heard you chuckle at his words, turning to him and giving him a judging glance, then getting into the seat.

jungkook was extremely confused, and only realized the reason when he got into the driver's seat.

you seemed to not let that joke go, “i’m in, what now?” jungkook keeps a straight face while starting the engine. “seatbelt.”

he drove out of the parking lot, and he immediately hit a left turn, driving towards the direction of your house. after a few moments, he turned his head towards her at a red light. “where do you live?” your eyes were shut, leaning back on the seat, not wanting to respond to him.

jungkook does not want you to know that he still remembers your address off by heart like an idiot, so he turns into a random street on his right and keeps on driving. after feeling the car stopping, you open your eyes, peeking out the window.

the hotel?? he drove you to a hotel?? you kept your eyes shut, as a silent protest to not get out of the car. you knew jungkook too well, he probably wanted to just leave your ass in the hotel, and you won’t get to ever see him again if you went with that.

jungkook nudges you with a finger hesitantly. you didn’t even budge. after a deep sigh from the man in the driver's seat, you hear the engine start again.

he always drove at a perfect steady pace. you swear you almost dozed off when you felt the car stop in the underground parking garage.

jungkook gently held onto you up the elevator, you heard the sound of a door unlocking, and your ears perked up when the sound of the door opening was followed by a loud bark from bam.

he brought you back to his place. that perfectly goes with your plan!!

you behaved the entire way home just for this moment. all that acting led up to this moment. he locked the front door, then squatted in front of you to help you take off your black heels. you were going to be using the moment wisely- when jungkook carried you over to the couch to put you down, you scratched his lower torso aggressively with your right hand.

it was a strong scratch, causing the person carrying you to let a harsh hiss under his breath. he looked down at your sharply shaped nails, then at the girl in his hands right now, your eyes were shut, lashes slightly fluttering.

he always liked working out and had an almost daily streak of hitting up the gym, resulting in his body being super in shape. he had the perfect model figure- abs, pecs, shoulders, you name it. he has it. you look back on how great he was at using his strength advantage in bed, gosh, he was perfect.

even being able to leave a little scratch on his skin could do something to you right now.

jungkook goes straight into the kitchen to pour you a cup of water. the first thing he did though, was lift up his hoodie and inspect the scratch. and under the hoodie, lay two vivid red scratch marks on his lower abdomen. the bright marks went from his veins into his spank bank, the vivid images of you under his control, he reminisces how you always loved scratching his back, his neck, and his shoulders when he hit your soft spots. jungkook’s skin was always very sensitive, making it effortless to leave marks and bruises for days. he recalls his friends making fun of the scratch marks you left on his back ever so often during the few summers when you and he were dating.

by the time he recollected himself and brought you the glass of water, you were already fast asleep on his leather couch. he watches you for a while and realizes you still look the same after this many years. more mature, but still the appearance he could never forget, even in his dreams. his eyes fall on your delicate ears before he puts a stop to his mind.

he clears his throat. “go sleep in the bedroom.”

your eyelashes flutter as you turn to face the other side of the couch, mumbling something inaudible to yourself before getting back into your dreamland.

jungkook: “y/n?”

his ears catching a delicate airy whine leave your mouth.

jungkook isn’t too fond of whatever game you are playing, but he knows what you want to do to him. he’s matured and grown now, not the loverboy that was wrapped around your pinky finger anymore. he can read expressions off your face very accurately. considering the fact that it has been years since the breakup, and you had never broken the non-contact thing.

and suddenly after he got back into town, a reuniting dinner was planned, you showed up to the clubs, and whatever yerin was trying to do, and now- you are in his house, on his couch. he knows exactly what you’re trying to do.

this is exactly the little tricks you used to play, and he fell head-first into it last time.

he promised himself that he would never fall into the same hole twice!

but of course, he won’t let you sleep on his couch for the whole night. this two-seater leather couch is extremely small for anyone to find comfort in. your figure is curled up in the soft seats, and he notices your legs almost dangling out from the couch.

he bends down to swoop you up, and by instinct, your arms find his neck. he slowly makes his way towards the bedroom, not wanting to wake up the girl in his arms.

considering this was a brand-new apartment, jungkook doesn’t have a bed yet- it’s just a mattress in the middle of the floor. he lowers his body carefully and places you in the centre of the bed, thinking your arms would instantly unwrap themselves from your neck, he tries to stand back up. but your grip on him was way too tight, jungkook almost lost his balance, but his reaction was fast enough for him to use his arm strength to hold on both sides of the bed, keeping a small dangerous distance from falling on top of you. his warm breath lands on your exposed neck, and you feel the warmth melting on your collarbones.

you had to keep everything within yourself to not pull him closer, hoping he would find his balance to move away from you, instead, it’s almost as if he bowed his head lower, leaving more burning breath marks on your collarbones. the itchy feeling almost numbing. you couldn’t help but slightly peel your eyes open discreetly- through your lashes, you realise he was already on his feet again, simply pulling the covers up for you.

the soft quilt falls on top of your lower torso, and his warm hand ‘accidentally’ brushes against your thigh before he completely gets up. he watches your reaction for a short while, but nothing from your side. he knew if it this was two years ago, you would’ve absolutely gone for it right now. he remembers even if his hand slightly rested on your thigh while driving, you would immediately get him to pull up on the side of the road for a heated makeout session. but it looks like, y/n is not the y/n he remembered.

jungkook turned off the big light, leaving a small night lamp on by the bedside table before patting bam to follow him back to the living room, planning to deal with the couch for the night.

honestly speaking, if he stayed for even one more single second, you wouldn’t be sure what you’re capable of doing to him.

painful, very painful.

it was almost 4 am when you opened your eyes, trying to adjust to the dim lighting of the room. your eyes land on the agape bedroom door. from where you’re resting, you can clearly see most of the living room. there he lay, on the couch.

jungkook normally sleeps just in his boxers, but considering the fact that you’re in the residence, he had to grab a pair of sweats to cover up. you observe the man on the couch, he is lying on his back, and you end up studying his figure. you could tell he was wearing nothing under those grey sweats- gosh the grey sweats and his shirtless body?!

you shut your eyes and sigh. contain yourself y/n.

if you weren’t already, you’re surely hungry for jeon jungkook now.

but you must control yourself now- jungkook knows what game you’re playing, and so do you. he’s such a slippery fish to catch- you can’t just pull the rod as soon as you hook him?

and, it looks like he wasn’t going to give in tonight that easily too.

this can be a fun game to play.

you watch him for a little longer, he turns his body to sleep on his right side, now his body fully facing you. well- this is awful. it took no time for you to fall asleep for the millionth time, this time- it was a heavy sleep. the scent of his bed surrounding you.

you decide to stay in his bed for a little longer because you know you have to leave the second you wake up.

jungkook also stayed home today, heading into the bathroom to clean up, then making breakfast, following up with feeding bam, and lastly back to the couch, attending a business call meeting.

if you didn’t have to use the bathroom so urgently, you could stay in his bed until noon. you crawled out of bed to stretch, then mentally prepared yourself to walk out of his room. well, you can’t fake drunk anymore, can you?

after coming out of the washroom, you slowly walk to jungkook, trying not to interrupt him. “...do you know where my phone went…?”

his gaze did not leave the laptop screen, his chin raised slightly, directing you to the device on the coffee table- where your phone lay. you hesitantly collect your phone, wanting to thank him about yesterday, but the sight of him so focused stops you. you didn’t have the heart to interrupt him, making way to the entrance.

you put your heels on while watching bam play with his ball on the side. the doberman notices you, walking over to you while cocking his head which reminds you of how jungkook would always do. you reach a hand out to pat his head but bam back up immediately out of caution.

feeling a little butthurt, you ask: “don’t remember me?”

not only forgetting about you, but bam also leaves to sit next to the man on the couch. jungkook gives bam an endearing rub, then looks up at you, standing by the door.

wow, bam. he always preferred jungkook over you, even when you and him were together.

you glance at the black-brown dog….but now you have a reason to contact him again.

although finding his social media account was a hassle, his phone number never changed. the same night after leaving his house, you found the number that you almost accidentally texted.

y/n: can i pick bam up from yours

he replied almost instantly: and you are?

you let out a light laugh in unbelief before texting back: y/n

then it took a good 30 minutes to get a text back. “sure thing, but only if he wants to go home with you.”

you roll your eyes at the obvious fact that: of course bam doesn’t want to go home with you?! considering the cold shoulder he gave you this morning.

but it’s okay since the cute dog was never the target to go for in the first place.

the day after the text, you went straight to his apartment after work, not bothering to change out of your work outfit- because you knew he was very into this specific set. it was a simple creamy white formal skirt set with black opaque tights.( and he loved this set. so much to the point by the time you normally got back home, he would press you onto the couch immediately. your skirt would usually be wrinkly by the time you two were done.)

jungkook answered the door, his eyes instantaneously landing on the girl in front of him, his eyes slightly widened for a split second. he has to admit, that you recognize his preferences a little too well.

it's not because he likes the pantyhose with skirt look, but more because it is on you. especially because he would watch you get ready for work all seriously, and you would get home and find his shoulders immediately, draping on top of him all tired and worn out from socializing. and he was a whore for it.

he’s literally hooked for you.

he opened the door wide open for you, he didn’t have any spare slippers in the house, so before you could take your slip heels off, he stopped you. “no need.”

after shutting the door, he opened his mouth: “you didn’t bring anything?”

you’re here to pick up bam, and yet you came empty-handed, causing bam to only take one glance at you before jumping on the couch, disinterested.

jungkook brought bam’s toys and treats over to you, yet bam didn’t even budge, to the point where he had to physically carry him over to you. it seemed like bam wasn't having any of this, not even giving you any sort of attention. jungkook had to give him a big encouraging talk before handing the medium-sized dog over to you.

you needed a lot of strength to hold the doberman in your arms while jungkook went to get a dog leash. the second bam saw the leash in jungkook’s hands,he started to struggle out of your grasp, struggling to get out of your embrace.

you weren’t prepared for the dog to be so strong, before you could let go of him, he had already left a faint bite mark on your arm, you winced under your breath while watching bam hop over to jungkook’s feet. jungkook hurried to drop the leash, coming up to you. “are you all good?”

“just a bite.” you brought your arm to his eye level, it wasn’t bleeding or anything, just a clear bite. “i’ve got some antibiotic ointment. you want some?”

you nodded your head. “sure.”

“...do you want to those off then?”

“hm?” you followed his eyes, looking down at your tights, a hole had been scratched open too, and you didn’t realize that maybe bam had also scratched you on the leg while trying to get out of your grasp. “yeah- yeah. i’ll do that.” you answered after excusing yourself to the bathroom. taking off the nylons, you threw them into the laundry basket before checking the scratch.

it was nothing but a pink line, you hurried out of the room, scared that by the time you headed out, it would already have faded.

jungkook was already seated on the familiar couch by the time you finished taking your tights off. you went over and seated down extremely close to him. pressing your thigh against his knee to show him the faint mark. he kept a very straight face while taking out the otc ointment from the first aid kit. he treated the few marks, you don't know if it was intentional or not, but he applied way too much on the injuries, leaving a big patch of your skin covered in ointment.

you look at him, who is now putting the cream back into the box. he clears the silence, “it doesn’t seem like he wants to go with you.”

you let out a sigh, looking at the dog resting by jungkook’s side. “it’s a shame that he completely forgot about me.”

“it’s been too long since he last saw you, that’s why.” he gives loving pats to bam, and you find an endearing smile creeping on your face at the scene. you muttered under your breath, “i missed him, i definitely wanted to live with him.” jungkook turned his head from the dog to you, adding “i take great care of him, and he likes me more.”

you went silent. that’s an unarguable fact. the silence went on for another minute when he spoke again. “gotta rebuild the trust again.”

your ears perk up at his comment…does this mean you can come to visit more often…to build the relationship again?

but you know it’s petty unlike for bam to like you again, lowering your head slightly, you mention, “i don’t think so,” you look up into his glassy, pure eyes, “i don’t want to force it. he looks way more comfortable with you anyway.” you’re not sure if jungkook wanted to hear that, but his brows slightly knot as he slowly opens his mouth to speak. “you’re giving up? even just being friends?”

your eyes immediately widen- you’re not sure if he meant being friends with bam…or him. he subconsciously avoids eye contact with you, looking back down at bam. “since i- no, bam, can consider you as a co-owner.”

you like the sound of that.

this is something you could get used to.

jungkook didn’t seem like he minded you staying, so you obviously did not have any intentions of leaving just yet. you’re playing with bam (surprisingly you and bam have gotten quite along within an hour) when his takeout arrives. he hesitantly asked you if you wanted to have dinner together, which you agreed happily to. he walked into the kitchen to cook something extra for the two of you.

you weren’t too hungry, but you had to admit you desperately missed his cooking. it was already 9 pm when you and him had finished dinner. the entire time it was filled with small talk and comfortable silence. you left right after dinner, saying farewell to bam, and received a slight nod from jungkook.

after getting home, your phone buzzed with a notification from jungkook’s number. it was an image of your tights in his laundry basket. you locked the phone without replying and hopped into the shower.

after doing your skincare, you casually replied: “chuck it in the trash”

jungkook sent a photo of the tights in the rubbish bin with no other caption.

you decided to tease him a little: or you can keep it if you want

jungkook: ……i’m not that gross

as if he has never touched your tights. you don't even remember how many pairs of your stockings he had ripped during the time when you two were together.

as if he could read your mind, he sent a full 2-minute video of him taking the rubbish bag outside, followed by him throwing the plastic bag into the rubbish bin with no remorse. you watch the video on a loop for a few minutes, chuckling to yourself.

you weren’t sure what got into your mind the next day. after taking a relaxing bubble bath after work, something within you told you to find jungkook. although you were very rough from working, you still felt energized to prepare yourself. after putting on a tank top and a skirt- you made your way out.

your hair still damp, you decided to pick some snacks on the way to his house. with confident and happy steps, you knocked on his door.

no answer.

you stood outside the locked door, dialing his number: he picked up within two rings, voice relaxed and soft. “what’s up?”

“are you not at home?”

he paused for a split second “you’re coming over?”

you hummed in response, “i brought fried chicken too.”

“i’m out fishing.” jungkook said, then changed to a softer tone. “since…it didn’t look like you were coming over tonight.”

you suppressed your laughter, teasingly asked: “so you were waiting for me then?”

the other side of the phone remained silent, causing you to let out a giggle. “i’ll come find you, share your location.”

he hung up, sharing his location with you right after- a freshwater lake close by. you made your way to his location with no hesitation.

bro he’s actually fishing on this fine evening.

it was extremely dark by the lakeside, but you could make out the figure of many middle-aged men sitting by the lake. turning your phone flashlight on, you spot your familiar ex-boyfriend in the middle of many men.

he stood up to borrow a foldable stool from the man next to him. you tidied your skirt before sitting real close to him, your arm pressing against his. he looked at you on his side, “it’s too hot.” he muttered. you didn’t move away at all, instead, you decided to lean your head on his broad shoulder. he didn’t move away either.

you didn’t understand the joy of fishing but still watched him the whole time quietly. it felt peaceful to have him against you by the dark, calming lake.

instead, jungkook felt slightly heated - how is it possible to focus on his rod when he had you leaning on him? it only took him half an hour to start packing his equipment, he couldn’t stand you next to him! you’re such a distraction! (not that he’s complaining…)

after leaving the lake, you two stood under the road lights, he glanced at you under the warm streetlights. he noticed your glassy eyes of discomfort. he looked down at the few itchy bites on your arms. oh shit- he forgot to remind you about that.

the lake was surrounded by grassy areas, he was smart by wearing a long sleeve and sweatpants, but he forgot to warn you about the mosquitoes before sending you his location. it was only around 30 minutes, but he could spot a few reddish marks on your arm, waist, and legs.

you didn’t realise this when you were by the lake, but now that you’re under the light, you can see the spots clear as day. jungkook takes your hand to lead you to his car, occasionally having to stop you from touching the mosquito bites. “don’t scratch them, we’ll be home soon.” he tucked a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, before stopping to caress your earlobe for a slight second.

“but it’s itchy.”

“patient.”

you bite down on your lip. patient. you should’ve been patient when you were taking that damn bath!!! this is what you get when you’re too eager for jeon jungkook.

jungkook took you back to his, immediately using a cold damp towel to caress over the little scattered bites. the mosquitos that were by the lakeside were deadly- the small pink dots had turned into a few red swollen bumps.

you were in his embrace, feeling nothing but defeated. this is literally his second time treating your injuries within two days. a familiar feeling you feel before tearing up runs up your nose, triggering your eyes to start to build up with tears. oh, you feel so guilty right now. almost weeping in his lap, he comforts you on the back while the other hand applies ointment on the bumps, he pulls out a handheld fan to relieve the itching.

“there’s more on the legs.” you tugged on his sleeve, speaking through sulking. jungkook moves to search for the rest of the bites, not expecting you to lift up your skirt to reveal the red mark on the inside of your left thigh. jungkook hesitates for a split second before applying some of the white ointment on his fingertip, his heart seems to be beating faster than usual - his head spinning, but he ignores it.

when his hands move closer to the spot, you close your legs slightly out of discomfort, just enough to cover the mark with your panties. jungkook feels his breathing fasten, he uses his middle finger to push the fabric of the underwear out of the way, rubbing the treatment on the spot. he wasn’t too sure what he touched, but he was sure he saw a slight reaction from your body, causing your hand that was holding the skirt to slightly twitch. feeling a twinge of playfulness creep up, he holds the small fan to the spot, turning it on with the press of a button.

you immediately close your legs out of sensitivity, giving him an alarming look. the second your legs squeezed against each other, jungkook swore he touched your core with his hand. he felt a numb shoot from his hand, through his veins, then right to his scalp.

you noticed his reaction on his face, and downwards. half of you wanted to take the rare opportunity- but you listened to the other half that told you to slow this down. you decided to leave after that interaction, not giving the both of you what you two obviously want from each other.

plus, he has the whole night to deal with that problem. and plenty of time to think about you.

talking about giving him time, you made the cruel decision to not contact him for the next few days. not to remind you, there was a load of work you had to do for this week for your job.

you knew jungkook would never break the ‘no contact’ type of thing either, but through some late-night stalking, you did find him updating his social media a little too frequently. either it was some workout progress pictures or his dinner with bam. weird.

the weekend came by fast, yerin texted you wondering if you wanted to go bowling with her, you hesitated, wanting to use tomorrow getting ready to see jungkook and bam. but she added that jungkook was going to be there- and you were immediately sold.

yerin’s boyfriend was decent friends with jungkook, they always hung out together, but right after you and jungkook ended things roughly, her boyfriend did not seem to like you very much. which is very reasonable since you did break up with him over text and whatever. which is something that has been keeping you awake at night lately.

arriving at the bowling alley, you see someone familiar with jungkook…the blind date girl. she had two bottles of sprite in her hands while sitting on the side benches. you can’t help but notice the pair of matching sneakers they had on.

you watch with widened eyes as jungkook goes over to her to converse, his eyes glistening with a smile that you haven’t seen in a while.

you do not like jeon jungkook very much right now.

yerin drags you to go say hi to her boyfriend and jungkook, you get a hesitant and sly “hey” from yerin’s boyfriend while jungkook on the side spares you a glance, just one single glance, to instantly turn back to the girl, the two chatting away. oh okay, so he’s going to do this now.

out of annoyance, you decided to cheer and clap for every other guy that is up bowling. you immediately caught the attention of one boy, he walked up to you, asking for your number with redness rising from his ears. naturally, you couldn’t reject him right now, giving your number in a swift motion right in front of jungkook.

still no acknowledgement from him.

finding a spot next to him on the benches, you intentionally sat closer to him. he gave you one warning look before scooting to the other side.

the girl on his right seemed to notice you, sparing you a cautious look while handing jungkook a pre-opened sprite bottle- he took it easily, raising the bottle to his mouth to take a sip out of it.

you slightly raised your arm, bumping the bottle with some strength just before his lips touched the bottle's mouth…causing a few drops to splatter out and onto the collar of his t-shirt, and his face.

as this was not expected at all, the other girl lets out a sharp gasp before pulling a pack of tissues out of her purse, and he takes it urgently to wipe the liquid off his face. you feel him turning to look at you, head cocked, his tongue poking around his mouth. you decided to play dumb, “shit, i’m so sorry kook, i didn't mean to do that.”

the girl on the other side kept calling jungkook by kook the whole time, hearing the nickname leave your mouth, he knows exactly what you’re doing. you’re doing this again.

jungkook didn’t make a single sound, while yerin’s boyfriend couldn’t help but let out a chuckle out his mouth at your actions.

when he got the chance to bowl, he took it very seriously, pins knocked after pins. yerin nudges you to capture your attention: “it’s definitely because he wants to show off to someone he’s interested in.”

you: “can’t be that blind-dating girl, can it?”

yerin: “well it’s not you…not after all that…”

you commented sourly: “she’s not his type.”

yerin gives you a knowing smile. “y/n oh y/n.”

“i know yerin, i’m being very stupid. but i can’t help it.”

you fully understand what “the grass is always greener on the other side” means now. you want what you can’t have.

the loud sound of many pins being knocked down, this is his second strike in a row- a turkey, if you will. your eyes darted towards him after the ‘STRIKE’ was displayed on the screen, but he was looking at the girl sitting on the bench, currently giving him two thumbs-ups.

he responded with a boyish smile.

and that was your cue to leave. you told yerin you felt like leaving early, and she grabbed your arm before you could go. “we’re nearly done then we’re getting dinner, you really wanna leave?” “yeah, i’m going…” you replied, uninterested anymore.

driving home, your phone buzzed many times when you hit a red light. yerin notified you that once you left, it seemed like jungkook also lost his energy to continue playing, hitting only a few pins before leaving with the girl without staying afterwards.

an idea popped into your head, causing you to spin the wheel and turn back- to his house.

this will be the final time you’ll ever willingly go to his house if this does not work out the way you wanted.

when you arrive at the familiar door, you know he probably hasn’t gotten home just yet. you decided to wait outside. the thought that what if he brought the girl home? races through your mind as you suddenly shoot up, contemplating whether you should just hop into the elevator and go home before you vividly see that image happen in front of your eyes.

you are now facing the closed elevator, a shaky finger hovering over the “↓” button. just before physically pressing it, the ‘ding’ from the elevator pulled you back to reality from your thoughts. you watch the door open at a snail's pace, revealing the figure of one specific person- just one, thank god.

jungkook has his phone in one hand, scrolling through emails when he notices that a person is standing outside of the elevator. and it was you. his girl.

eyes meet. he holds strong eye contact, and you could look right through those brown eyes. no words were needed at this moment. the distance between the two of you closes when he hurries to unlock the door, takes your purse and throws it onto the couch, pushing you against the back of the door. everything just simply felt right. his right hand immediately found itself slightly pinching the soft flesh of your earlobe- as if it was made to rest on top of your lobe.

you seriously missed being this close to him, feeling your knees weaken as he pressed his soft lips on you, he tasted like exactly what you’ve been missing for these years. it feels almost like what you feel when you’re in love. you pulled away when bam nudged your foot, but he was more forceful than ever, lifting your chin to meet your lips with his again. you only needed to focus on jungkook at this moment.

right when your hands were finding their way into his shirt, he pulled away, gazing at you. “i got to shower first.” he said, slightly out of breath.

jungkook rushed home after dropping that girl off, planning to take a shower before driving to your place. he had nothing to lose at this point- he doesn’t care if you know that he still remembers your address; he doesn’t care if he’s the one outside your door this time. the way he should’ve been two years ago.

but he was taken by surprise when he saw you outside his front door.

he couldn’t keep lying to himself that he doesn’t think about you, because you’re all he’s been missing about every single day. you, you, and only you.

you couldn’t let go of him at all, scared that he’d just slip away if you didn’t have your hands on him. “we can shower together.”

…the ‘shower’ took almost a whole hour. the bathroom echoed with your whines. many times, jungkook had to wrap his hand around your mouth, softly reminding you through his own pleasurable groans “the walls are thin in the bathroom, darl.”

carrying you to his bed, you were surprised at how effortlessly the mattress allowed him to move all over you. at first, you did not realize, but he was being way too harsh with you.

he was rough when he wanted to be, but he was never this rough?!! jungkook had no hesitation in marking you, pinching your waist when you moved in his rhythm, every single push inside of you made you feel like he wanted to pin you straight into the bed. not to mention- your entire body has been scattered with bites and signs of his touch. you’re definitely not complaining about how perfect he felt when he mended into you, and you had to admit, he was so fucking hot when he is rutting himself inside of you out of pure desire and frustration.

jungkook did not want to hurt you in any way, and you both knew that.

but you did not need him knowing that this was the most passionate, satisfying sex you’ve ever had. so you made the bold decision to start putting your underwear on right after the sensual fuck. not giving him any time for aftercare.

jungkook was lying comfortably on the bed when he noticed that you wanted to leave, his quick reaction caused him to sit up, large hands holding down your waist as he pressed you back down into the mattress. his bright eyes stared at you, “where are you heading to? hm?”

“back home,” you maintain deep eye contact, it’s hard not to kiss him when his soft, pretty lips are at a reachable distance in front of you. “i obviously can’t stay the night…”

jungkook’s grip on your waist tightened, you swear you saw the light in his eyes die out almost immediately. almost a fog covers his pupils and you figure maybe you were a little too extreme with that answer.

a delicate emotion runs across his face and he almost looks hurt when he finally gathers his words, “so…you waited outside my house…just to sleep with me?”

in that moment, you felt like the biggest cunt in the world.

you couldn’t find the right answer, if you said yes, you are the biggest cunt in the world confirmed- if you said no, you don’t think that’s a correct answer either way.

after not collecting a response from you, jungkook lets go, plopping back onto the bed, it’s almost like he took that silence from you as a confirmation of his theory. he laughs to himself, “fuck, why do i keep falling for these games you play?”

he moves his eyes away from you, to a random object in the room. “if you could’ve told me you’re real intention to simply just sleep with me ages ago, we wouldn’t be like this at all, y/n.”

you close your eyes, remaining in your position on his bed.

in the start, you were definitely in it just for a quick fuck. but it looks like you’re now in deep waters. jungkook is irresistible- and you might’ve gone way too far with this one.

“don’t say that.” you move to his side, “i seriously loved you back then.”

“if you loved me, i don’t think you would’ve sent me off to a different city, y/n.”

“i told you it was an opportunity…i know you’d be better off if you got that job, even if we broke up, i wanted you to be successful, and not- stay in this small city…being stuck with me.” you replied, hoping he would meet eye with you again.

jungkook was tired of arguing about this. he knew the both of you weren’t the best when it came to communicating, he didn’t want to leave your city because you were in it, but he knew it might’ve been the end when he saw his name on the office announcement. he told you he couldn’t accept doing long distance, while you simply replied over text “then let’s just end it all. no matter if you go or not. let’s just end it here.” and that ruined him.

it was almost like you just desperately wanted to get rid of him.

if only he had the balls to drive to your house to talk this out, but he didn’t.

he absolutely should’ve, but he didn’t.

“look at this! it’s painful.” he stopped in his thoughts when your head found his chest, you were pointing to the bruises he had left on your thigh. “jungkook! bruises.”

jungkook didn’t want to respond at all, but couldn’t help looking down on your pretty body. many parts of your skin were turning red from his roughness. he knew he didn’t use much strength at all, your skin was just easily sensitive. but he couldn’t help but feel his heart soften slightly when he heard your voice full of sulk.

he spoke with a gentle tone “sorry,” while circling an arm around your waist, massaging your hips. “does it still hurt?”

“yeah.”

jungkook adjusted his position, hovering over you, he kissed every single mark he made on your body, making sure every single area on your skin was being loved.

“what now?”

you knew exactly what he was asking about. what now? us? but you played dumb once again. “what?”

looking down at you his tongue ran over his pillow lips, he remained silent.

“you explain the matching sneakers first.” you raised your eyebrows.

“i bought them on purpose after i saw her wearing them after friday dinner. to piss you off.” jungkook replied.

but he didn’t include the part where he rejected her forwardly and blatantly the first night when he drove her home after dinner. he didn’t include the part where he asked her the night before going bowling if she could help him with a favor. he didn’t include the part where the favor was to ask her if she could come and help him act this way to piss you off.

you couldn’t help but let a giggle slip when he stared at you with a straight face. “okay, now i like you a whole lot again.”

after receiving a satisfying answer, a smile of relief crept onto his face, feeling his jaw unclench. “so you’re not just in it for one single fuck?” he teased.

“one won’t be enough.”

“give me an amount then.”

“i don’t know…until you’re bored of me? i guess?” you replied, intertwining your hand with his.

i will never get bored of you, he thought to himself. he looked at your soft hand interlocked with his, not only will he never get bored of you, but he’ll also never let go of this hand ever again.

his other hand reached for your earlobe.

after getting back together with jungkook, you’ve realized how different this man has become over this time.

you remember him sometimes being very unreasonable, overprotective, almost overwhelming- of a boyfriend. and of course, sometimes jealousy is cute! you get that, but he was over the top about it. but now- now this is different.

it’s the indifferences that make a relationship cute!

occasionally you still pull a cheeky lie, telling him that you’re going home to rest- but bumping into him in a local bar. he wouldn’t be angry at all, unlike before. instead, he would drag you with a teasing smile to come drink at his table. that’s when you know you’re in for a long night back at his house.

but there was something you really wanted to talk out with him.

one summer night, when the cold wind was blowing through his large window, you turned your body to face him- there was something that was keeping you up tonight. he felt your movement next to him, “what’s up?”

“it’s been like…two months since we got back together, right?”

“right.”

“i think i want to talk some things out.”

thank god the night was dim, and jungkook was grateful because of that, he knows the expression on his face is not very charming. if this was a face-to-face conversation, he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to handle it.

“yeah?” there was a hint of calmness in his voice, almost like he was forcing it. jungkook doesn’t know what to expect. he thought there would be a different result this time- he’s a different person! he finds himself desperately praying with his aching heart that this will not be another heart-shattering break-up again.

at least, this time it's in person, right?

right?

he was lost in panic when your hand squeezed him under the quilt.

“jungkook, do you think i broke up with you because i wanted to get rid of you?”

was it not? the three words were stuck in his throat, but he wanted to hear your voice more than his own right now.

“well, it wasn’t. it was for a more stupid reason- not because you were clingy, and whatever you thought. i wanted you to be successful, of course. but it was all out of my stupidity, i texted that out of anger, i didn’t actually mean it. i just wanted to see if you would come find me. come talk it out. i know we both weren’t good with words.”

you lowered your voice, “stupidly, a selfish part of me- even though i wanted you to get the job- a little bit of me still wished that you would’ve picked me over that.” after your little statement, you felt a heavy rock was lifted from your chest.

the hand that you held slightly twitched under your grip. he fully moved to face you. you turned away out of embarrassment.

to honestly admit that you love jeon jungkook, is a harder thing than you thought.

you felt the mattress vibrate, and then you realize he was now laughing at you. “i believe everything you say, even if you lied to my face, i would trust you without a doubt, y/n.”

“that was all my honest words!!!”

“i know. i know.” he said through chuckles. you turned towards him, embracing your urge to touch your lips with his. with muffled laughter, he moves right on top of you, locking both sides of your body with his strong thighs.

it’s annoying how he’s still smiling….when he’s peeling your pyjamas off you.

his eyes are glassy and glowy under the reflection of the moonlight, you could get lost in them for days.

“i don’t care what you say,” he tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, “i’ve always loved you more than you did me. y/n.”

“okay then.” you replied, not wanting to argue with the man who was currently pressing lovebites on your neck.

jungkook smirks against your neck,

way, way more. (end)

here is my masterlist if you want to enjoy some more of my writing!

and until next time, kae.

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fashionteahouse · 3 months ago

Note

Hey would you write cullens x reader when you break up with then over text and give now reason?

hii sure i could 💜 hope you enjoy :)

cullen x reader sends a breakup text with no explanation

Carlisle: double reads it to capture the tone to make sure if you’re joking or not. he would definitely call you, if you don’t answer he would leave a voicemail and would send a simple text of

please call me.

he would want to get to the bottom of it in a civil manner. he would want to know if it was something that he did, if it was something that made you feel some type of way. he knows that the lifestyle of a vampire is dangerous, he would understand if that was the reason but he just would like to know the reason and not be left in the dark. he would want to talk it out.

Rosalie: would pretend that it wouldn’t bother her but her actions would prove otherwise. she would continuously look at her phone to see if you would text back a reason but when you don’t, it makes her feel a tad bit angry for not being in the knowing. it’s the thing that’s constantly on her mind and she isn’t used to just being dumped like that, in fact being dumped at all. she would feel frustrated and even though she doesn’t want to, she would question her value as she wonders if you just became uninterested or bored with her. her nightmare that’s coming true.

Emmett: he would feel sad. he would send multiple texts of why. he would even question if it was him. constantly would check his phone to see if you would reply with an answer. he would try to give you your space but would eventually try to see you in person because he could only remember the good times that you both had. he can’t think of a bad time that you two had and would want you to tell him a definite reason so he could fix it.

Alice: she would WORRY. the wrong person to do this to as she would text you and blow your phone up with calls. you broke up over text with no reason but she would find a reason one way or another. she would pace as she constantly would check her phone and when she’s had enough of no reply, she would rush to see you to find where you are to question you in person.

Edward: would try his very best to brush it off, but he would overthink, he can’t help it. he would try to convince himself that “it’s for the best” only to find himself thinking deeply about you, not being able to get you out of his melodramatic mind. he wouldn’t reply, just simply find himself rereading it. he would dance around your contact name, wondering if it’s a good idea to just call but he would chicken out each time. especially if things were fine and good before, he would be very confused on the sudden surprise. he wouldn’t make it known, but he would try to give you your space but he would cheat and try to get an idea of where you might be. would question if you met someone else.

Esme: it would definitely hurt her feelings, often find herself blaming herself. thinking back to what made you lose interest and would want to end the relationship you two had with each other. she would try her hand at trying to text you answer your phone, but won’t overdo it. she would get the idea that you want peace but she would feel like she really wants an answer to the mysterious reason of why you ended things with her. she would leave a nice voicemail to your answering machine, letting you know that if you need to talk, she would be here and she won’t judge you for your reasoning. she would let you know that she will still be there for you.

Jasper: he would be very confused because he knew that things were fine and healthy. it would kill him to not know how you’re feeling and he just wants to hear your voice, not replying to the text but calling you back to back, hoping that you will answer. he would find himself trying to visit you but he wants to get the okay from you first, it’s hard because you won’t answer the phone and the text message that you left him, was very vague.

#cullen x reader #carlisle cullen x reader #emmett cullen x reader #esme cullen x reader #rosalie cullen x reader #jasper cullen x reader #alice cullen x reader #edward cullen x reader #twilight saga #twilight x reader

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buzzcutlip · 9 months ago

Note

( this is carmenberzattosgf on my main!!)

Time for a horny request 🚶‍♀️I’ve been thinking HEAVILY on a fwb situation with lip while in college 🧎🏼‍♀️ and when he hears you went out with some frat bro he gets so jealous and it’s a “I can fuck you better than him” type of situation

You know I love Lip! This one is for you, Olive 💌

Lip Gallagher x Fem!Reader Explicit 800+ words

Never in a million years would you guess that Lip Gallagher is into you. He’s annoying, cocky, loud, and probably a borderline alcoholic and criminal—exactly the type of guy your parents warned you about. That’s why you find him so attractive. Secretly.

He likes the bad boy reputation, and you know him well enough to know that it’s mostly an act. You’ve had a soft spot for each other ever since the first year. He would help you with trigonometry, and in return, you would pick him up when drunk in faraway bars. The friends-with-benefits situation is another level to your friendship.

Lip’s room is dark when you stumble in, and he instantly pushes you toward the bed, tackling you down into the sheets. They smell and feel fresh.

Your puffer jacket disappears with remarkable speed, as well as your cardigan. Lip’s quick and efficient when he’s getting you out of your clothes, like always. He just seems a tad more frantic tonight.

“Hey,” you try to slow him down when he’s attempting to get his hand in your panties without unbuttoning your skinny jeans. “What’s gotten into you?”

Lip only looks up when you tug at the collar of his shirt.

“The captain of the lacrosse team, really?” he says, and suddenly everything makes sense.

You throw your head back as you laugh. “I didn’t know we were exclusive.”

Lip bites at your bare neck, hard and mean, and you frown. “Yeah—but I’m still the best.”

You roll your eyes and pout, staying quiet as Lip gets up and switches the light on. Even if you wanted to be shy, there’s no option like that with Lip—he wants to see you and everything when you fuck.

---

The third time Lip tries to kiss you, your hand springs up, getting a good grip on his chin. “No kissing,” you hiss, eyes narrowed.

Lip has his long fingers inside you, reaching for your G-spot for the past twenty minutes, teasing you meanly. Every time he brushes the spongy bit of flesh, you tense, feeling like you might come at that moment. Or pee yourself; the sensations are so similar yet different that you can hardly tell them apart. But Lip withdraws his fingers, leaving you empty and wanting. Because Lip promised he would fuck you so good that you will never want anyone else. His words, not yours.

“If you want to occupy my mouth, then let me blow you,” you say crudely, knowing it won’t shock someone like Lip Gallagher.

“This is about you,” he reminds you seriously, then smirks.

It’s always like that with Lip—an easy banter, joking and silliness until it turns to desperation and passion and need. You never catch the exact moment of the transition.

Lip takes his sticky fingers out and pushes your top up, revealing your belly and bra.

“Did he take the time to touch you like this? To touch your tits?” Fuck. You arch into his mouth as soon as Lip pulls your snug sports bra above your breasts, freeing them. He knows how sensitive they are, how crazy you get when he pays attention to them.

You moan in approval as he starts licking the soft flesh, pulling on one of your nipples with those wet fingers. Wet from you.

“If—if this is about me—” you get out, voice breathy and hoarse, “—would you please fuck me already?”

Lip keeps massaging your tits, kissing and biting all over them, and grinds his groin against yours. He’s still wearing his jeans and the denim drags roughly against your naked center. You’re not very far away from begging.

“Does it feel good, baby?” Lip taunts you from somewhere between your knees, obviously needing to dominate the moment. You must be louder than you thought. Usually, with Lip, you try to stay pretty quiet. The grip you have on his hair tightens minutely, and Lip groans.

It’s not often that you fuck missionary—your aversion, not his. The problem—the good problem—with Lip is that his dick is the perfect shape for your vagina, or something, and when you have sex face to face, laying down, the head of his cock hits perfectly the right places within you. So usually, when you don’t want to come in the first three minutes, you have to really concentrate.

He doesn’t let you have your way tonight. “I wanna see you.”

You try to wriggle from underneath him, but Lip holds you fast. “Lip,” you grunt, pouting.

“I wanna see your face when you come. When I make you come.”

You blush, hard. You’re not surprised to hear Lip’s dirty talk. You’re surprised that it affects you this much. Maybe there's more at stake here than just another night of physical connection.

“I’ll make it so good,” he babbles while putting a condom on.

And he does. Makes it so, so good.

#this is something shorter finally #lip gallagher #shameless #lip gallagher fanfic #lip gallagher fic #lip gallagher x reader #lip gallagher x you #shameless fic #shameless fanfic #lip gallagher smut #jeremy allen white #fic #writing #my fic

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concretejunglefm · 3 months ago

Text

I'm not ready to let you forget me (part 2).

*edit credit goes to the lovely @defuckingthrone-dot-com

You told your friends you want me dead And said that I did everythin' wrong And you're not wrong

An anon request for lovers to enemies ->playlist, part 1, part 2 , part 3, part 4, part 5

Summary: It’s been two years since Noah cheated on you, abruptly ending your relationship. However, the universe seems to have a peculiar sense of humor in its plan to reunite you.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader.

CW: none really. Mentions of cheating, Noah can be an overall asshole and a tad bit of angst.

WC: 3.2k

Dividers: Silent-stories.

It's a Friday night, in Vegas no less, and instead of being out on the strip, Sloan has dragged you to the hotel bar.

"Is there a reason for why we're in here and not out on the strip right now?"

"Because, the night is young and there are plenty of hot people here for you to mingle with." She says, nudging your hip. You look out at the sea of people and make a face, using your glass to hide it from Sloan's view while taking a sip of your drink, as you make your way through them from the bar to a booth.

You hadn't come here seeking a hookup, instead, you wanted a chance to clear your head. However, that had become impossible since the reason for your mental turmoil was now occupying the room next door.

You fall into the booth with a huff, moving over for Sloan to scoot in beside you as she leans in closer to speak to you over the music.

"You know what they say, to get over someone you need to—"

"Don't you dare say get under somebody else."

"Guy or girl, either will do." Sloan shrugs.

Sadly your experiences with women ended just as tragically as they did with men.

"Have you ever noticed how hot Jolly is?"

Sloan's unsolicited comment about Noah's bandmate and friend draws your attention as you follow her gaze and witness five familiar faces entering the bar. It doesn't surprise you and yet now you wish that you were anywhere but here.

"No, I can't say that I have." You're hopeful she catches the disinterest in your tone.

"Oh come on, look at him. Those tattoos, that long hair, the accent! God he's dreamy." She says, bringing her straw to her lips, taking a sip of her drink. "I bet he's a charmer too, a real gentleman."

"Are you really gushing over him right now?"

"A girl can look, can't she?" She briefly glances at you before returning her gaze to Jolly, who stands at the bar with his friends. "Besides, there's something about his age that really ignites my daddy issues."

"Okay, I think you've had enough of this." You reach for her glass, pulling the mixed cocktail away from her.

"I wonder if he likes to be called daddy."

"Please don't." You grimace at the thought.

Your mind had been plagued by what ifs when it came to Noah and his ex. The last thing you needed was to imagine any scenario involving his bandmate and his preferences in the bedroom.

"I'm going to ask him." She declares, shuffling herself to the edge of the booth.

"Sloan!"

"What? I told you, you need to go find someone to help you get over Noah and I need someone to just get my leg over." She laughs and you roll your eyes.

She's like a cat in heat when she finds someone she's interested in. You just wish it weren't someone so closely connected to Noah, and that she wouldn't abandon you right now to pursue them.

You watch her approach Jolly from across the bar, following her usual routine of leaning against him, brushing herself closer, and whispering something in his ear. Almost like clockwork, he finishes his glass of brown liquor and slips off with her.

She's too predictable.

For a fleeting moment, your eyes meet Noah's as you scan the bar. He notices your gaze and raises his glass in a toast. You decide to ignore it, downing your drink and the remaining contents of Sloan's before slipping out of the booth to head to your room for the night, maybe you'll even order room service.

Hopefully tomorrow will have a better start to it.

"He has got to be fucking kidding me." You grumble under your breath, huffing as you roll over and pull your pillow over your head to muffle out the sound currently coming through the wall you share with Noah.

Between the rhythmic banging against the wall and the high-pitched moans you keep hearing, it's safe to assume he isn't alone in there. If his intention had been to annoy you, unfortunately, it was working. You assume it's just another one of his many tactics to get under your skin.

So far, this weekend has been anything but peaceful, and you're starting to regret coming.

Even the tv does little to drown out the noise that is coming through the wall your bed is against.

Eventually, the noise all becomes too much and you find yourself throwing the covers off, drag yourself out of bed with a hefty sigh, deciding to confront the matter at hand and potentially tell him to shut the fuck up.

Rapidly knocking on Noah's hotel room door, you huff and the moment he opens it, you're met with him shirtless, wearing only his boxers. His chest glistens with what could easily be sweat or maybe water. From the sounds you'd heard coming through the wall from his room, you guess it to be the first, especially when you hear the heaviness in his breath.

"Oh hey, we're not being too loud are we?"

Your eyes narrow on him. You hadn't even spoken a word for why you were here, but he had already apparently figured out your reasoning.

"If you're entertaining guests, do you mind keeping it down?" You attempt to peer behind him and into the room, Noah purposely moving his larger frame to block you.

"Sorry. Had no idea we were being that loud." There's a smug grin on his face and what you wouldn't give to slap it off him.

It's two in the morning and perhaps for Vegas that is still early, but for you it's the middle of the night.

"Of course not. So, what unfortunate girl did you manage to convince to come home with you this time, huh?" Crossing your arms over your chest, you raise an eyebrow.

You have no genuine reason or explanation for asking him this, as if you genuinely care to know. Besides, the room has now fallen silent, compared to the incessant noise you were hearing through the wall just moments ago.

"Well…" Rubbing his hand against the back of his neck, a sheepish expression crosses his face, which causes your own brow to furrow.

Then his words are cut off by the sound of a familiar giggle, your eyes widening as you hear the stretched out sound of his name from a voice which turns your blood cold. "Noooowah."

"No, wait! I can explain!" Noah reaches for you as you quickly turn back in the direction of your room, almost catching his fingers in the door when it slams shut behind you.

You spend the rest of the night tossing and turning, the sound of Noah's ex's voice playing on repeat in your head after hearing it come from his room. You more so hate the fact that you're allowing it to bother you at all, but the look on his face had almost screamed guilt to you.

What you hate even more is indulging in a Google search, which inevitably leads you down a rabbit hole, revealing that his ex-girlfriend will indeed be present at the festival they're scheduled to perform at on Sunday.

By morning, you're grumpy and sleep-deprived, but the thought of staying in the room next to them for any longer becomes increasingly irritating. With a heavy sigh, you drag yourself out of bed, quickly showering and changing. Instead of wallowing in self-pity, you decide to explore the hotel and send Sloan a text, informing her of your plans.

"Excuse me?" You look up, only to find yourself once again face to face with the same asshole front man you've been trying to avoid.

It's been an hour of peace this morning and somehow, even in a busy hotel, he still manages to cross paths with you.

"What?" You say through gritted teeth, before you realize that the voice hasn't come from him.

It had been feminine and soft, coming from a young girl who stood nearby, with two of her friends.

"I'm sorry. I was wondering if you would mind taking a photo for us? We're such huge fans of him and..."

You don't need to hear the same old drivel.

Huge fans, their first time meeting him, would love a group photo, yada yada yada. It wasn't your first time standing on the sidelines and becoming an unofficial photographer for him and the fans who spotted him while he was out.

Catching sight of Noah's face, you see him raising his brows as if to express his silent shame regarding your rudeness directed at the young girl.

"Of course she wouldn't mind." He quickly interjects before you have a moment to register and refuse, forcing a smile as you take her phone from her.

"I'd be delighted." It was a lie, but you could hardly say no now. You'd already been an asshole once.

Lifting the phone, you glance at them through the screen before calling out. "Say cheese." They all comply in unison, the girls striking poses and huddling close to their idol, while Noah raises his signature peace sign.

As soon as you return the phone, Noah has already slipped away and headed back towards his group bandmates, who are eagerly waiting for him.

"Asshole." you mutter to yourself, only to overhear the girls as they begin examining their photo and giggling among themselves.

"Do you think he's single?" One asks.

"I hope so. I might try and shoot my shot with him if he is." Another responds, and you roll your eyes before casting a quick glance behind them, back in Noah's direction as you speak, making sure your voice is loud enough for him to potentially hear.

"I heard he ghosts girls once he gets bored of them." You look back towards the group of girls after catching Noah's head turning slightly in your direction.

"Then I'd just have to make sure he didn't get bored of me." The first girl responds.

"Good luck with that." You throw out a fake smile, catching Noah and his group of friends walking back in your direction. "Just make sure to get yourself tested if you're stupid enough to become one of his groupies."

As Noah passes by, you turn your full attention to him, speaking more to him than to the girls you're warning. "You never know where he's been."

"There you are!" You hear Sloan before she slips her arm around yours, dragging you away. Leaning in closer, she briefly glances back to the group of girls you had been standing near before asking. "Who are they?"

"Some of Noah's groupies." You make no effort to hide the annoyance in your tone, Sloan catching on and nodding.

"Right. Well, forget about them and Noah."

That had been the plan, you think, but you bite your tongue instead of letting the retort slip, following her lead through the hotel until you reach one of the restaurants serving breakfast.

"I've heard this place is great." She declares, slipping into a booth as you shuffle in on the same side next to her.

"Well after last night I could really do with a sugar rush right now." You reach for the menu, looking over the pancake options.

You pay no mind to the sudden influx of noise behind you, until you hear Sloan's voice. "Hi Jolly."

You whip your head around, almost giving yourself whiplash in the process, and see the table behind you is now occupied with the familiar sight of the Omens, Noah sitting himself on the booth which backs right onto your own.

"Oh, didn't see you there."

"Funny that." You force a grin and turn your attention back onto the menu before hearing him chime up once more.

"What are you thinking of getting? I heard the pancakes are great."

You know the question is directed to you. You can sense his presence, the heat of his gaze hovering just inches away from your shoulder as he scans the menu in your hands. In a sudden burst of energy, you slam it down onto the table, turning your head just enough to be face-to-face with him.

"Do you really have to sit here? A whole restaurant and you choose here."

"It's got the best view." A smug grin breaks out across his face.

"What?" Your voice inches a couple of octaves higher as though ready to scream at him before he draws your attention to a nearby window.

"Of the strip."

As quickly as your blood pressure has risen, it lowers again and you almost feel dizzy from it.

"I think I'm going to be sick." You mumble, turning yourself back around and leaning forward against the table, holding your head in your hands.

"Late night or something?"

He just doesn't know when to stop. Even worse is his friends don't even make an attempt to stop him or advise him to shut the fuck up.

"Not as late as you." You throw back, lifting your head and briefly glancing over your shoulder. "Besides, it's kind of hard to sleep when your neighbor is making a ruckus all night. What time did your guest slip out last night, hm? You didn't want to invite her for breakfast?"

"Guest?" Folio asks. "We didn't have anyone in our—ow!" He cuts off as you catch Noah jabbing him in the side, furrowing your brow at them.

"What can I say? She's not as high maintenance as most girls."

"By that you mean she's easy."

"Easy to please, easy to leave."

Right at that moment, a server approaches your table, completely disregarding yours and Sloan's, as she attends to the group of guys at the table next to you.

This makes you what you think is irrationally angry, until you hear Sloan mutter under her breath. "Bitch."

You have to press your lips together to prevent your laughter from escaping, and then, from behind you, you hear Noah's voice.

"They're with us too." A glance behind reveals him pointing a thumb in your direction.

Once the server has taken your orders, you hear Nicholas speak up, looking over into your booth as he asks. "We were planning on going to a laser tag place this afternoon if you want to come?"

"No."

"Yes!"

You and Sloan respond in unison, turning to look at one another as you respond with the same answers again.

Forcing a smile, you lean in as you speak under your breath to her so as not to allow any of the guys, particularly Noah who is sitting in the booth which backs against your own, to hear. "I thought this was a girls weekend."

"Are you really going to pass up an opportunity to shoot the man who broke your heart in the chest? Even if it is fake?" She argues and you contemplate it.

You can't deny the idea isn't promising, perhaps even therapeutic.

"Good point." You nod and pull back, turning your head to look over at Nicholas. "Okay, we're in."

Though you don't look, you swear from the corner of your eye, you catch a grin forming on Noah's face.

"I can't believe that you've convinced me to do this." Looking over to Sloan, you shake your head, pulling on the vest for your laser tag session before stepping up to her for help tightening it where needed.

"Would you rather be back at the hotel in the spa?" She gives you a look and you quickly cave, mumbling a 'no' under your breath.

Unlike Sloan, a spa day was hardly something you found enjoyable. You were more of an active person, and a game of laser tag, where you could potentially shoot your ex multiple times without feeling guilty or causing any harm, provided you with a much-needed form of therapy.

"Then it's settled. You're all ready." She declares and gives herself a spin for you to admire her new combat laser tag look. "How do I look? Do you think Jolly would like it?"

"I think you could wear a black bag and still pull it off." You laugh, slipping out from the changing area and back into the waiting area. "Did you really hook up with Jolly last night?"

"A girl doesn't kiss and tell." Sloan raises a hand to flip her hair back over her shoulder.

"Please, you've told me, in excruciating detail, might I add, the things that have happened pre first date between you and someone else."

"I don't know what you mean. Some of us are a little more classy than those who will give their ex-boyfriends a quick jerk off in the tour bus bunk."

You scoff, your mouth dropping open. "Jolly told you about that?!"

Stepping up to the counter, you both receive your laser guns and hold yours up in aid of your threat that follows. "He'll be the first on my hit list."

The upside to running around in the dark with only LED lights lighting the way is you have yet to actually run into your ex. The room is big enough to spread out and hide, as well as avoid crossing his path. You almost start to wonder if he's here at all until you literally run into him.

The first thing you do is raise your laser gun to him and shoot before he bursts into laughter. "We're on the same team, you goof."

You look at the target lights on his vest and then the ones on your own, seeing they're in fact both red. "Fuck you." You grumble and attempt to shoot him again, though it causes no damage.

"You really want to shoot me that badly, huh?"

'Oh, you have no idea." Even in the dark your eyes lock dead onto his, feeling nothing but pure anger towards him.

Between his smug attitude this morning and the events you witnessed last night after banging on his door, you were more than prepared to take him down if necessary.

"Listen, about last night."

You're both standing in the open, exposed to anyone who might still be in the game. Instead of suggesting that you move, you give him the chance to explain himself, especially since you notice movement behind him when you glance over his shoulder.

"It's not what you think."

"Like I haven't heard that one before, Noah." You scoff, your gaze shifting back to him.

"I'm serious."

"I'm sure you are but unfortunately for you, I don't care." You take a step closer to him, your gun pointed at his chest once more.

"Have you not learnt that you can't do anything with that, yet?" He chortles and you gaze up at him, a wicked grin crossing your lips.

"I can't, but he can." You gesture behind his shoulder with a nod, and just as you do, Folio sneaks up behind him, firing his laser and causing him to be ejected from the game.

"How does it feel to be stabbed in the back by someone you thought you could trust?"

You're aware that he understands the metaphor here, that Folio's actions represent his own, and leaving him with a final smug grin, you dash to one of the dimly lit corners of the spacious room to complete the remainder of the round with the few of you who remain.

Although your team technically loses, it feels like a victory for you because it means Noah has lost. Considering his reputation as a sore loser, you find amusement in watching him sulk as you finally exit the laser tag arena.

Tagged: @fadingangelwisp @blade-dressed-in-red @deathblacksmoke @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @geminigirlfromfinland @fuck1ng-queen @ichoosetenderomens @xxkittenkissesxx @lacy1986 @Chey-h @halfalgorithmhafdeity @annthepenguin @samanthasgone

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