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cashmoneyyysstuff · 3 months

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a/n : WAAAHHH another event organised by @queenpiranhadon THE QUEEN HERSELF !! this sm fun, hope yall enjoy !! lovely banner was also made by @queenpiranhadon IS THERE ANYTHING SHE CANT DO OMG.

modern au, fem reader, merman shoto, maybe ooc shoto but ehh were havin fun, shoto is very touchy, mute shoto for plot, shoto iq too handsome for his own good, shotos a prince, shoto is very inlove w reader but its all inoccent, shoto n reader are both in their 20's, reader has a dog ! fluffy fluff fluff, sorta cliffhanger, theres a lot of stuff not mentioned bc i like romance and nothing else, little hints of soulmates, falling in love quickly the events don't play out exactly like the fairytale but it's inspired !

walking on the beach is supposed to be relaxing. and usually, it is. there’s nothing you enjoy more than the sounds of the waves crashing and the wind howling in your ears. inhaling the sea air as max digs into the sand, barking out happily at every new big stick he’d found.

except this time, it’s not a big stick. but a big..person.

a human. person. unconscious you hope, you pray, sprawled out in the sand with clothes absolutely torn to shreds.

so yeah, not very relaxing.

it's been a few minutes since your dog had barked for your attention a little further down the beach. you'd happily giggled at first, thinking your dog might've an extra long stick for you to throw him only for you to see what looked like hair from your field of vision. and then an arm, a leg and now here you were.

anyone's first instinct should be to call an ambulance, of course he could be injured ! so with a start, you grab max by his collar to prevent him from licking off the handsome--you feel a little bad for gazing at him while he's unconscious/dead but you have to be honest--stranger's face off, and pull out your phone to call emergencies.

you look back down to check on him one last time only for him to be wide awake.

"oh, shit !" you squeal with a start, landing right on your ass from your crouched position over him. the man is unmoving at first, but gets up with a light groan. you want to help him, you really do, but you feel like someone's glued your butt to the floor.

this man you thought was dead seconds ago, about to call the ambulance for, has awoken. looking around aimlessly before his eyes land on you. he looks almost..entranced by you.

yet all you can think about is how gorgeous he is. a part of you still feels bad about it.

then he's a hair away from you and you can't breathe. you squeak embarrassingly loud, shooting up to your knees.

"um !" you gasp "hello..?" you back up a bit but he pays it no further mind continuing to blink at you. "are you okay? um--do you need medical assistance ?" from what you can see he doesn't look injured, so you're relieved, but you still want verbal confirmation.

except all he does is open his mouth a couple times before immediately closing it again. you blink at him and he blinks back at you.

"do-are you..okay ?" you ask tentatively, the man is unresponsive and you're seriously getting freaked out. "i- it's okay, we'll get you some help, lemme just.." you readjust to finally move and call emergencies, but something stops you.

a very cold hand is wrapped around your arm. you squeal at the chill, dropping onto your ass in front of the man. again. you don't want this to become a recurring thing at all.

finally the man gives you a response..sort of. he graces you with a shake of his head. his hair flows around softly and some water droplets fly off at the movement. he doesn't want you getting him help ?

"no ?" your eyebrows furrow "you..don't want help ?" he shakes his head again. you can tell he's trying to convey something but he can't seem to get it out. you wonder why he won't speak, and then you realise: he must be mute.

and now it's starting to make a bit more sense. you still wonder why he doesn't want paramedics involved. and you're mind races again, maybe he's a criminal on the run ?!

you blink, being brought back to reality by the handsome man who's sopping wet, freezing cold yet it barely seems to faze him with his grip still on his wrist. freezing to the touch yet you barely feel it with his eyes on you like this. he points to himself, then raises his thumb up. you're so lost in his eyes it takes you a moment to realise what he's saying.

i'm okay.

somehow, the man ended up staying at your house.

you know nothing about him, not his name, his age, though he looks about your age. you don't know where he's from or why he was in the state he was in but somehow he's ended up coming into your home.

you let him look around your house to his hearts content. this man is the epitome of strange, he seemed curious of everything in your house, even the dry clothes and the shower you offered him.

after explaining to him how your shower works, and he'd changed into fresh new clothes, the biggest tracksuit you could find, you find yourself currently looking at him watching tv, seemingly entranced. you've got half a mind to warn him about sitting too close to the tv since he's sitting right in front of it on the floor, but you decide against it

you know nothing about him, but he seems not to know anything..at all.

you don't know sign language, you have no idea how to communicate with him, you wrack your brain, scratching at your head with a huff. the sound seems to alarm him and he turns to you with a cute tilt of his head, you can somehow guess he's trying to ask you what's wrong, his eyes seem to be clouded with worry. you feel your skin heat up.

"i'm alright, thanks." he seems to understand. he nods, it seems his attentions gone from the tv to you as he keeps inspecting you. his sudden rising from the floor causes you to jump a little, eyes wide as he sits down next to you and softly bounces on the couch. he seems surprised by the softness of it as he bounces a couple more times and that does manage to get a giggle out of you.

he looks up at the sound and his eyes are fixed to yours again "nice huh ? i bought that when i first moved here." he nods, focused. it gives you the confidence to continue even though his intense gaze makes you a little anxious. "i slept on this for a while before i was able to actually buy myself a bed." you giggle, suddenly overcome with nostalgia. you'd moved to your small town about a year and a half ago, you were still young, freshly graduated when you decided to leave it all behind. your big bustling town, you're family and everything that you knew. you thought it was time for a new start, as big as your hometown was it felt extremely suffocating. you needed something new.

the first few months were a struggle, something to get used to. but you'd managed. you'd found a yourself a nice job with a nice pay. some nice neighbours and nice coworkers and the sweetest little (?)english sheepdog. said dog had gotten quickly attached to your unexpected guest, excitedly jumping all over and licking him. your guest though startled at first didn't seem to mind. even placing his hand on top of max's head as if to pet him and being surprised by the softness of his fur. he seemed to like soft things.

you shake your head, deciding to focus on your guest. who's eyes have not left yours. you don't know if you can get used to that. "so um..where are you from ?" he perks up at your question. grabbing your wrist so he could softly pull you over your window to point outside where you'd found him. his skin is considerably warmer now that he's not drenched, it makes your cheeks tingle how easily he grabs at you.

"uh, no that's not what i meant," you chuckle nervously, but he's adamant. shaking his head and pointing outside again. towards the sea. the sea ?

"the sea ?" you ask incredulously "you came from..the sea ?" he nods, almost excited that you'd figured it out..the sea ?

okay, there could be a rational explanation for that..maybe his boat got lost at sea..sure it was plausible, but that's never happened in your quiet little town. everything about this man was unusual.

at your doubt, the man's eyes widen just a bit. and it looks like he gets an idea because he starts pulling you over to your bathroom. you're trying to reason with him and get him to slow down, but he seems intent and set on getting to your bathroom.

"hey, what're you--ah !" you cover your eyes quickly when you notice him taking off his clothes, heart speeding up as you squeak "wha-what the hell are you doin' ?!" then the water starts running, and then nothing. you're curiosity peeked, you glance at him through your fingers and don't see what you'd expected. instead you see..scales? and a tail ?

and then your hands fall from over your eyes, and you fully see it. the mix of white and red scales, they shine underneath the light of your bathroom.

a tail.

the man you rescued from the beach has a tail and isn't a man at all.

you've got a merman in your house.

shoto is running late.

usually he's on time, but it seems the universe was against him today. his father had held him back with an endless lecture that seemed to drag on. he'd been more on edge, so to speak, since his son's coronation was approaching, a day he was absolutely dreading and everybody seemed to be on his back about it.

his sister had also held him back earlier. just for a chat she'd claimed, except shouto could tell it was a clumsy attempt to try and get some type of answer out of him, of why he's been sneaking off so often. she had lamented to him about her worries with his fascination of humans and their strange inventions. fuyumi was the only one he'd confided into about his collection of strange objects from the human world. tossed into the sea or scavenged from shipwrecked boats if he was feeling a little risky. however, what had started off as an innocent interest started becoming dangerous, in his sisters eyes, as he slowly started rising up to shore. closer and closer to humans.

she'd warned him to be careful, that humans were dangerous. shouto knew of the tales that were told about humans since he was young, of the unspeakable things they did to his kind. of course he did, but he just had a feeling not all humans could be like what he was told. as usual, he waves her off with the promise that he'd be vigilant as he swims off again.

he hopes he makes it in time.

someone calls for him suddenly and he stops in his tracks, the voice sounds familiar and he recognizes his fluffy haired friend izuku swimming up to him, shoto is tempted to ignore him. but it'd be mean, and unbecoming of a future king of the seas, so he waits for him to catch up. izuku midoriya was his one and only real confidant, his family had worked for his ever since they were both young and even if he was technically his servant, he could confidently call him his friend.

"hello, izuku." shoto greets simply, izuku quickly returns the greeting, before looking around to make sure they wouldn't be heard.

"were you going up to shore again ?" he asks nervously. shoto hums, nodding softly "i am." izuku stiffens, his fins flicker nervously.

"i-i don't know if that's the best idea.. i mean, your coronation is coming up and your father is even more on edge than usual-"

"what he doesn't know won't hurt him. which is why i'm expecting you not to tell him anything."

"of course not ! but his majesty is..." izuku cuts himself off, looking off to the side "i fear he's getting suspicious of your..activities?" he explains, wording it as best he can. shoto holds back the groan bubbling up in his throat: so many worries piling up and so little time.

it's unbecoming of a future king, but shoto decides he'll worry later.

"i'll think about him later." the disdain in his voice is palpable, but izuku being used to it doesn't react. he knows the relationship between the king and his son has been more than strained ever since the queen disappeared. some say she simply vanished, or left of her own volition, while other whispers claim she was instead captured by humans.

but after her disappearance the queen was never mentioned again, neither was the princes older brother, touya, when he disappeared not long before his mother did. the mere mention of them was forbidden, it was wiser to act is if they never existed in the first place.

izuku shakes his head and quickly swims up to follow the dual haired prince, who'd started swimming off in front of him.

both men finally rise up to shore. izuku hides besides a rock protruding from the sea floor while shoto decides to be a little bolder, peeking up to his chest from where he's perched up on the rock as well.

"ah ! shoto, you shouldn't !" izuku warns, but he simply shakes his head "it's fine, no one's here at this time of day." his eyes never leaving the sand in front of them, surveying the area like a hawk. he purses his lips. maybe he had been too late after all. he'd have to wait until tomorrow.

until he spots a mass of fluffy grey and white hairs. both he and izuku shrink back at the sound of a loud booming bark, shoto not as far sunk as izuku. then his gaze locks on to someone walking along with the furry beast.

a human.

the green haired merman has half a mind to warn his friend they should make their leave, however the young man is unmoving, seemingly entranced.

shoto breathes a sigh of relief, you've shown up at last.

it's usually at this hour that you walk along the beach with your companion. shoto's been watching you for a little while now and he's determined a routine. some days you stay longer than usual, but he's content to see you anytime, all the time. you're fascinating, the way you move around with those..legs of yours is something he can't his eyes off of. and you're breathtakingly beautiful to him, though is his father were to see you he's sure he'd think otherwise. he'd been told humans were hideous beasts, but he's never seen anything in all of the seas as beautiful as you in his years of living.

izuku snaps him out of his trance, urging him saying they should be on their way back lest the king get even more suspicious of both their absences. he wants to keep looking at you, forever if he could. part of him even wishes he could walk along the sand with you.

but he retreats after a final look to you, and dives back down towards his home, so far away from you.

he wished he'd never went back home though, when his father had decided to get on his last nerve yet again. constantly nagging, constantly berating him like he knew any better. lecturing him about how his behaviour was unacceptable for a future king.

he knows that, he's heard it all before. as he swims further and further away from home he wishes it could all just stop. this future king talk, the coronation. he wishes it could all just fucking cease.

and he wishes he could be with you above all else. you'd understand, you wouldn't nag him about his duties. hell, you wouldn't even have to know, you'd just see him for him. and that's all he wants.

if only, he wishes.

until he's being lured away by some sea creatures who for sure mean trouble, but they've intrigued him with promises of making his wishes come true. when he's suddenly faced with the sea witch, he knows he should get away and fast, making a deal with her was not advised if you cared for your own life.

..and yet, she says she can give him what he truly desires. and what he desires is a life where he doesn't have to gaze at you from afar. where he can only dream and wish for if only's.

and he can't turn back now.

it takes a lot longer to get used to the fact that you have a merman in your house. you've been glued to the tv in shock for an hour, not processing anything happening on it while the merman in question casually watches, munching on some candy you'd offered him when you'd first made it home.

it's funny, if you think about it a little bit. you're friendly with your coworkers yet not a single one of them has ever been to your house before. and now you've got a fucking mythical sea creature in sitting on your couch eating watermelon candies.

truly hilarious.

you catch a peek at him from the corner of your eye, you're surprised by how easily he's entertained, especially since he's only looking at an informercial but you think you can understand why now. why he seemed so confused, and maybe this was also why he can't talk ? but he could understand you perfectly.

god, your head hurt.

there's a weight against your skull and when you look up from your lap, the merman has his head pressed to yours. you hold back a squeal, because you are beyond tired of embarrassing yourself in front of him, a harsh intake of breath leaves you. he tilts his head at you, you've gotten good at de-cyphering what he means in the two hours you've known him. you sigh.

"i-i'm alright..thanks" you speak sincerely, his shoulders relax but he doesn't lean very far away from you, visibly comfortable being so close to you. "i'm just..in shock..i had no idea mermaids even existed..!" you chuckle, then quickly cover your mouth "merman, sorry !" he doesn't seem to mind, shaking his head with a barely there smile. it's a faint pull of his lips that could've been missed but you'd caught it and your heart hammers in your chest--were all mermen this pretty ?!

"well..um, i bet seeing a human up close like this is pretty surprising too ?" he nods and you laugh. "is it what you expected at least ?" he nods again, but it feels..softer, more personal. like it was directed at you and you only, for some reason. the close proximity between you both seems familiar.

you're everything he expected and more.

"do you..have a name ? ah !" you catch yourself quickly, running off to your room, not before telling him you'd be right back, you barely see him nod with widened eyes. you pull out a random book you left unfinished for..you don't remember how long now.

if he understood you speaking, maybe he could understand how to read ?

it's a possibility and you lose nothing by trying.

you're back next to him and place the book between you both, he leans in closer, inspecting the words on the page with an unreadable expression.

you tell him your name, and start spelling it out with the letters on the page. you hope it works, that'd make it a whole lote easier if it does, so you ask him for his name.

it takes him a second, but soon the dots start connecting, and he slowly points to five different letters

s-h-o-t-o

"shoto.." you sound out, you look back up at him. his face is soft and the small smile on your face makes you smile too "shoto ?" and he nods happily "it's nice, i like it." you admit, his eyes shine brightly and he points to you and nods. you think he's saying he likes your name too, so you thank him with a giggle and your hunch his confirmed when he smiles just a little wider, the corner of his eyes crinkling.

seriously are all mermen this pretty ? it's a little unfair that more mermen don't show up in town.

but you think even if they were to suddenly appear, you'd like shoto the best.

shoto seems to have superhuman abilities, besides the not being human part..

in only a week, he's learned how to write and you've been communicating by passing notes and using a white board you'd gotten him while you were out shopping, you figured it'd be easier and a little less confusing.

he's been here for two weeks now, and it's been fun. so fun in fact you forget he's not human with how easy he's adapted into your life. he goes shopping for and with you sometimes, he loves watching and he likes to take walks with max, the both of them being inseparable. you'd be a little jealous if it wasn't so damn adorable. you're still enjoying your break from work and shoto makes it much more enjoyable, it's nice to have someone else around for a change.

you've..talked, about a lot of stuff with shoto, but one thing he will not talk about is himself, and you've decided not to pry. especially because you hate seeing the conflicted, sad look on his face. he talks to you about his kind, and his friends, but never too much about himself. you don't pry, but it surprises you that even mermaids have baggage.

"is there anything you wanna do today, shoto ?" you wonder if he ever gets bored, he doesn't say anything about it, but you know you're not all that entertaining..maybe you'll take him go kart racing.

shoto stops petting max to grab at his white boards, quickly scratching something down.

can i watch a movie with you ?

your heart stutters. every time you suggest an activity for him to do he always adds you in it. it's stupidly endearing and makes him cuter than he already is.

"but don't you wanna do anything else ? " he tilts your head for you to continue "like..aren't you bored ? i know i don't do anything interesting...you don't wanna do something more exciting ?"

he blinks, and writes down something on his white board that has your mouth go dry.

i like doing anything because you do it with me.

"o-oh.." you mutter, fiddling with the texture of your couch, picking at it softly "that's nice.."

after a moment of quiet he presses his head to yours, as affectionate as ever to get your attention, you blink up at him holding up his whiteboard and a smile forms onto your face.

movie ?

you let him pick this time.

"if you want to be able to live with your beloved.. you must manage to do one thing.."

a kiss. a true love's kiss.

shoto has seen a lot of kisses in the few weeks he's been with you. he remembers the first kiss he'd received was when your elderly neighbour had knocked at your door thinking you were home while you were at the grocery store. she must've thought he was your mate, because she'd congratulated him and told him to treat you nice because you're a very sweet and pretty girl, which he'd intensely nodded at. she'd grabbed him by the shoulder and softly pressed both her cheeks to him, and you'd explained to him that she had kissed him as a sign of politeness. a common human courtesy.

he'd seen kisses on tv, kisses on the street, but none of them compared to the description of a true love's kiss. none of them felt fitting enough.

something on tv catches his eye. the movie has gotten to the climactic scene, a new term he'd learned. and the main love interests are desperately clinging to each other. their lips are touching, but it doesn't look like the kisses he's seen before..strange.

it confuses him, so he taps your shoulder and writes his thoughts down.

what are they doing ?

you clear your throat, your eyes widen. your eyes are so pretty. "they're kissing, shoto.. we've seen that before right ?"

but it looks different.

you hum in thought "well, i guess i can put it like.." you purse your lips in thought, you look so cute when you're deep in thought. "they love each other a lot, so being away from each other made them..um, do that. it's 'cus they care about each other alot..i think."

love..

have you done that before ?

you splutter as your eyes fly across the whiteboard, shoto shuffles so he can sit closer to you. you don't move away, you smell so nice.

"n-no..i don't think i've loved someone enough to.." you whisper, gaze flying from him to the small space between you both.

the sound of the white board dropping to the floor doesn't alarm you, neither does the way his hands slowly reach towards your cheeks. he does nothing but run his hands across your cheeks for a while, simply gazing at you. he presses his forehead to yours and you feel his breath his your face, your eyelashes flutter as his head softly bumps against yours. his nose nuzzles against yours, you're so soft.

you don't have to read anything to know what his eyes are asking you silently, you nod anyways.

shoto doesn't exactly know what love means by humans standards, but by his standards and the little he knows he thinks this might be it as he presses his lips to yours. it's not as desperate and dramatic as on tv, and there's no melodramatic music playing in the background.

but he loves this, he loves you.

you pull away when he presses you back against the couch, and suddenly something feels different. your chest feels warm. you feel loved.

"that..was nice..woah." you breathe, and shoto nods, mirroring the smile growing on your face. what you don't expect is for him to open his mouth and speak.

"it was.." he hums, your eyes are the size of saucers and he huffs out a light laugh "do you think..i could do that again with you ?"

you nod, in a trance, but as he leans in you grip his shoulders. he blinks up at you

"..wait, how long were you able to talk ?" you're unblinking, and it makes him chuckle lightly.

"just now." he answers simply, before you can ask more questions he stops you "i will explain later, i promise." he nuzzles his nose to yours "but for now.." he kisses your cheek "i'd like to learn about this..love feeling.with you." he kisses your other cheek, always adding you in "will you let me ? "

you're willing to let him do anything as long as he does it with you, as long as he keeps adding you in like you're the only one that matters, you want to keep mattering to him. and you want to learn more about your feelings too.

so you laugh, and with a smile, you pull him back into you.

a/n : eeeee i loved participating to this event theheheh ! tumblr quit deleting my drafts but i still had tons of fun ! hope yall enjoy reading MUAH MUAH !!

taglist ! : @queenpiranhadon @starieq @lovelyiida @lady-ashfade @angels-fantasy

@seonne @sweetnans @vexis-world @2melamoo2 @tootiecakes234

@4evapika

#shouto todoroki #shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shoto todoroki x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x you #shouto x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto drabble #todoroki x reader #shoto x y/n #will fix spelling mistakes later !

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roosterforme · 10 months

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Don't Waste Another Minute | Rooster x Reader

Summary: When you finally recognize that you have been hanging onto your relationship for all the wrong reasons, you end things. You knew there would be someone better for you, and it was a welcome realization to see that he had been right there in front of you the whole time.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, asshole Jake, drunk Jake, reader dumps Jake, crude language, alcohol, swears

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more. Banner made by @mak-32

As soon as you told Jake that you thought he'd had enough to drink for one night, he called you a bitch for the fifth time. It was mortifying. Because this time your boyfriend said it in front of his friends instead of just quietly whispering, "I'm gonna need you to stop acting like a bitch."

The area around the pool table went quiet, and it took everything inside you to keep your head held high. His friends weren't the ones who had to deal with the aftermath of angry, drunk Jake. You were. They weren't constantly getting yelled at for hiding his keys when he couldn't walk straight. And they weren't driving around in a car that still smelled horrendous weeks after he threw up a bottle of Jack Daniels next to the center console. You were.

Your lips were shaking as you met his glassy, green eyes. And then Bradley Bradshaw stepped forward and put a hand on Jake's shoulder. "That's not cool, Hangman," he said, his voice deep and angry. He set down the bottle of beer he had been nursing and met your eyes with chocolate brown ones that somehow made you feel a little more grounded. Then he added, "I think you should apologize to your girl."

Just as Jake scoffed, you returned your attention fully to him. You pressed your lips together until you were sure you could speak without making a fool out of yourself. "No. I'm not his girl. It's been a long time since that was something I wanted to be. I can't do this anymore, Jake."

As you dug his car keys out of your pocket, he slurred, "I should have dumped you months ago. You don't even know how to have fun. You're just a stuck up bitch."

You tried your best to ignore him as you handed his keys to Javy and softly asked, "Can you make sure he gets back to his place safely?"

"I will," he promised, nodding at you. Then you glanced around the group of aviators you had become fond of over the past several months since Jake first brought you here. You were going to miss them, especially Bradley and the soft smiles he always gave you. And the way he just stood up for you.

But right now his handsome face looked stony as he shook his head at Jake. You ran your hand along Bradley's arm and tried your best to smile at him as you left the group and started to dig your phone out of your pocket. "Bye," you whispered to nobody in particular. You'd get an Uber and go back to your place and snuggle up in bed, and you'd be fine. You knew you would.

As you headed for the door, you heard Bradley angrily say, "I wish you would have had the balls to dump her months ago. She's too good for you."

That made you smile as you pushed the door open and let the cool night air and the sound of the ocean wipe your senses clean. If you were being honest with yourself, you probably only stayed with Jake for as long as you had because you were afraid he was going to hurt himself or someone else one of these Saturday nights. The sting of embarrassment was worse right now than the pain of breaking things off with him, and that fact let you know you did the right thing.

You shivered as you looked up at the moon and the smattering of stars that were visible this close to the city. And then a massive body slammed into you, which you realized was probably your fault for standing so close to the exit.

"Shit!" grunted a deep voice.

"I'm sorry-" you started as a big arm wrapped around you, steadying you.

"It's you," Bradley said when you looked up at him over your shoulder. "You're still here."

"Yeah... it's just me." You sounded a little breathless. You noticed you felt safer after ten seconds with his arm wrapped around you than you ever had when you were with Jake.

Bradley cleared his throat and slowly released you. "I just wanted to see if you needed a ride home. You know, since you left Jake's keys with Javy."

You turned to face him fully and took one big hand in yours before anyone else could exit the bar and slam into both of you. With wide eyes, he followed you willingly as you walked backwards toward the railing. "I'm fine," you assure him, letting go of his warm hand with an embarrassed shrug. "I'll get an Uber and have someone who didn't just witness my ex boyfriend call me a bitch before I dumped him take me home."

"He should have never said that," Bradley rasped, eyes fixed on your face. "He overdoes it on the weekends, and I'm sure he doesn't actually think you're a... well, you know. You're sweet. Everyone knows that."

You smiled softly up at him. "Thanks," you whispered. You let yourself indulge in committing to memory the way Bradley Bradshaw just said you're sweet. Because it made you feel warm inside. Then you entered your passcode and opened your Uber app, but before you could do anything else, he took your phone out of your hand.

"Let me take you home," he said as you reached for your phone. But he tucked it behind his back. "That way I'll know you get there safely."

You reached your arms around him but he took both of your hands in his as your chest brushed the front of his shirt. "Did you put it in your back pocket?" you asked as you cocked your head to the side, only pretending to be annoyed.

"Maybe," he replied with a grin as he squeezed your hands. "But you won't need it until I drop you at your place anyway."

You studied his face. The orange flicker of light from the lamppost in the parking lot bathed him in softness as he waited for you to respond. The only time you ever saw Bradley get drunk was on his birthday when Natasha drove him home. But he'd been funny, never crass. He'd even carried you from the jukebox over to the piano when he insisted he could do a better rendition of Changes than David Bowie. You smiled at the memory, and then he was smiling back at you.

"You just had that one beer tonight?" you asked softly, already knowing the answer. You supposed he drew your gaze more frequently than you were ready to admit. Especially in the past month or so.

"Yeah," he replied immediately. "That's all I usually have."

"I know."

There was a beat of silence between the two of you. Your words felt like an admission, and you wanted to know how he'd respond. He laced his fingers with yours and said, "I'd never do anything to put you in danger. Been drinking just one beer on Saturday nights in case you were too far gone to get Jake and yourself home safely."

Now you weren't sure what to say. He'd been silently paying attention to you this whole time, too. No wonder you felt safe around him. "Okay," you whispered, and Bradley very hesitantly released your right hand. But you stayed close to his side, your left hand still held tight in his, and he started to head toward his Bronco.

Silently he unlocked the passenger side door and helped you climb in. "Thanks," you muttered, but then he removed his hand from yours, and you suddenly shivered as he closed the door. You thought of your apartment briefly, wondering if Jake's hoodie was hanging in your closet and thinking you'd just throw away the framed photo of the two of you in Venice Beach. It didn't really hurt to think about it, but you didn't feel the need to mourn over it either.

Then you realized Bradley had already turned right out of the parking lot and then made the first left. "You don't need directions?" you asked him as he went straight through the green light.

He laughed softly but kept his eyes on the road. "I remember where you live. I picked the two of you up there once."

You remembered it, too. He had opened the door for you and helped you into the Bronco that night as well. He had been wearing the same shirt he had on now. And he smiled at you the same way.

But you were still surprised he knew which street to turn down and which building was yours. "You can park in one of the visitor spots," you told him as your heart swelled with nervous excitement when he shifted into park.

Bradley paused with his hand on the key in the ignition and turned to look at you. "Will you let me walk you up?" When you nodded without hesitation, he killed the engine and smiled at you. And a few seconds later, your fingers were laced with his again. And you were climbing the stairs up to your apartment door.

"Thanks, Bradley," you murmured, glancing up at him, unsure how to ask when you might possibly see him again after this. You didn't have his phone number, and you had no real reason to keep going back to the Hard Deck, but you wanted to see him again.

And then you felt a little embarrassed by it all. Sure, he remembered where you lived and he had been looking out for you. But you just broke up with Jake earlier tonight, even though things felt like they had been over for a lot longer. And you didn't want to rebound with his coworker of all people, especially since Bradley had you feeling like you wanted him to wrap you in his arms and make you feel safe all the time.

And now you'd been standing in front of your door for long enough that it was about to become awkward unless one of you said something. But you were afraid the words on the tip of your tongue would be enough to shatter the moment if you said them.

Your eyes caught on the scars on Bradley's neck as he swallowed hard. "Anytime you need a ride or... anything, I'll be around," he said with one of those soft smiles. But when he went to remove his hand from yours, you wouldn't let him. And then that smile slipped as he took a step closer to you.

You decided to say the words and shatter the moment, because you had nothing to lose. "Do you want to come in for a little while?" you asked, and Bradley was nodding immediately.

You didn't expect him to keep his hand in yours as you closed and locked the door and showed him around the small space. You'd spent time with Jake in all of these rooms, but as you listened to the deep rumble of Bradley's voice and his soft laughter, you knew you'd sooner recall these memories once he was gone. But you didn't want him to leave at all, even though it was almost midnight.

"Do you want a glass of water?" you asked him.

"Sure," he replied so quickly, both of you laughed. And then he commented on the books you'd left out on your table while he drank his water very slowly.

"I have more of the books from that series in my room."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, still hovering close by. "I only read the first two."

You simply took him by the hand again, and he went along with you, leaving the glass of water behind. When you paused in your bedroom doorway and reached in to turn on the light, you laughed and said, "You still have my phone in your pocket."

"I know," he replied, his gaze dipping down toward the floor as he blushed. "I've been holding it captive, trying to figure out a way to ask you for your number."

"Really?" you asked, stepping closer and coaxing his gaze up to yours.

He nodded as he squeezed your hand again. "Feels like some sort of violation of guy code if I ask for it the same night you broke up with Jake. But I really don't want to leave here until I shoot my shot."

You gasped. Bradley Bradshaw. Wanted to shoot his shot. With you. "Shoot it," you said so softly, you weren't sure if he even heard you. But then his eyes went a little wide, and that smile you liked so much was back.

"Alright." He cleared his throat and chuckled, cheeks still pink as he said, "Hey, so, here's the thing. I've actually had a massive crush on you for months. And I'd love to get your phone number. And I realize that you just got out of a relationship, so I don't mind waiting a few weeks to use it."

You were still holding hands as you pressed your lips to his cheek, and then his free arm wrapped around your waist. You kissed the edge of his mustache, and his fingers flexed against your back. "You can have my number, Bradley."

He sucked in a deep breath as you kissed his cheek again. "Okay. Cool. That's good. And uh... how long do you think I should wait before I call you?" he asked, and you couldn't tell if he sounded more nervous or more excited.

"You could call me tomorrow," you whispered, still amazed at how safe you felt around him. "Or you could stay a little longer. Maybe we can start the third book in the series? If you want to."

"I want to," he said softly and immediately. "I want to do both. Call you tomorrow and stay a little longer."

When you tugged him toward the bookshelf next to your bed, he followed, his eyes on you as you reached for the third book. You toed your shoes off and kicked them aside as you asked, "You coming?" Then you crawled across your bed, leaving room for Bradley.

He only hesitated for a second before he yanked both shoes off and placed them near yours. Then the sight of him easing himself onto your bed and slowly settling back against the headboard next to you left you aching to put your lips on his face again. He was giving you that same warm smile he always did, and now you realized you'd been craving these glances in your direction for a long time. You'd been seeking out his smile at the bar and at barbeques and on beach days.

He cleared his throat a little nervously, probably because you were staring at him now. "Do you want me to read it out loud?" he asked, his voice so raspy, it set off goosebumps along your arms. You replied by setting the book on his lap and scooting a little closer, because you wanted to shoot your shot, too.

"In a minute." You brought your hand up to his face and brushed his stubbled, rosy cheek with your fingers before you kissed his lips. And it was just that simple. A soft press of your lips against his, and you were in the midst of the best kiss of your life. Not necessarily the needy kind where you wanted to tear his clothes off, but the kind where you were aware of every nerve ending in your body. But you already knew, if you let them, your feelings for Bradley would escalate into more.

With your forehead resting on his and your lips hovering over his mustache, you smiled and said, "Okay, now you can read the book."

He laughed softly and kissed you one more time before you eased yourself away from him. Then you curled up against his side, and he brought his arm around you as you helped him hold the book open. Nothing could have prepared you for listening to the words of your favorite story read in his voice. You barely moved, your lips pressed together as his steady, deep voice and his warm scent had you slowly melting.

Bradley read and turned the pages one handed, your cheek on his shoulder and your arm creeping around his midsection. You had no idea how much time had passed when he whispered, "Do you want me to stop?"

You didn't. It had been forever since you felt like this. Comfortable and safe. Maybe you'd never felt this way before. Like you were absolutely certain this man wouldn't hurt you. Like you were sure he'd never call you a bitch in front of his friends or in private. But you didn't know if it was okay to keep holding onto him.

"You can take the book home with you," you told him as you sat up slightly. But he made no move to get out of your bed, and you didn't ask him to. So you just settled right back where you were, and you felt Bradley's lips brush along your hair as you fell asleep.

-------------------------

Loud, angry pounding noises did not belong here right now. No, Bradley was enjoying sleeping on a soft cloud with his dream girl snuggled up next to him. Everything was warm and perfect and smelled nice. Why was there still pounding? He cracked his eyes open to find you starting to stir next to him. You stretched and made a cute little noise as your chest bumped his ribs, and then your eyes opened wide.

"Oh," you gasped, quickly pulling your arm away from where it had been thrown over his midsection. "Bradley." Your voice was a combination of surprise, disbelief and pleasure, and he wanted to make sure you were okay with the impromptu sleepover, but there was still someone pounding on your front door.

He cleared his throat, but his voice was still raspy from sleep as he said, "You want me to go yell at whoever that is?"

"No," you replied as you climbed on top of him and kissed his lips. Bradley wanted to put his hands everywhere on you, but he kept them at his sides, still unsure about what he was allowed to do right now. "I'll be right back. You stay here."

Then you were out of bed and across the room, glancing back with a smile before you vanished through the door. Bradley's heart was pounding as he let his head sink back against your pillow. Okay, he needed to play this cool. He couldn't fuck this up. He'd been waiting months for you to realize Jake wasn't good enough for you, and he'd been spending months trying to make sure he would be, given the opportunity.

Your phone was still in his back pocket along with his, and he pulled them out to check the time. But when he looked at your lock screen, he saw that you had seventeen missed texts from Jake. And now he thought he heard Jake's voice in your living room.

Bradley was out of bed instantly when he heard you ask, "What are you doing here?"

"Well, I came to apologize, but it looks like you should be the one apologizing to me." That was definitely Jake's voice, and he was definitely pissed off.

"I don't know what you mean, Jake," you said as Bradley walked slowly down your hallway. He shoved both phones in his pocket and kept himself out of sight. "If you want to apologize for constantly calling me a bitch, then go ahead. Otherwise, just leave."

Jake laughed in a way that made Bradley's hands clench into fists. "You got a lot of nerve talking to me like you think I'm stupid. I saw his Bronco outside. I know he's here." Bradley squeezed his eyes closed and took a deep breath, and then Jake loudly said, "I knew you were a bitch. How long you been fucking Bradshaw?"

"I'm not," you insisted, your voice shaking. And as much as Bradley had loved reading your book to you and snuggling in your bed all night, now he wished he hadn't stayed. Because you didn't deserve this.

"You really expect me to believe that?" Jake asked you maliciously. "Where is he, you fucking slut?"

"Don't you dare call her that," Bradley practically growled as he stormed into the living room. Jake was standing too close to you, and he didn't like that. But you were standing your ground as you turned to look at Bradley with some tears shimmering in your eyes. "I never touched her, and she never touched me. So just apologize or leave."

"Fuck you, Bradshaw," Jake spat. "I don't have to listen to a single fucking think you say."

"Get out of my apartment," you demanded. "I dumped you last night for a reason: you drink too much, and you're mean to me. And it was a long time coming. Just go."

Bradley could sense Jake's hesitation, so he took a few steps closer until he was standing right behind you. He made eye contact with him, just daring him to try something. Because Bradley wasn't in the mood to listen to him saying nasty shit about you, especially not when Jake interrupted the start of something so perfect.

"Go," you repeated. Jake looked you up and down from head to toe and shook his head before he finally turned and slammed your front door behind him.

"Are you okay?" Bradley asked softly, wishing he knew if it was okay to touch you.

"Yeah," you whispered before turning and throwing your arms around his neck.

Bradley let his hands settle on your waist as you looked up at him with bright eyes. He didn't feel bad about stepping on Jake's toes any longer. "I'm sorry if I made things worse for you by being here. But I can't really bring myself to apologize for falling asleep with you, because I liked it so much."

You laughed. It was the prettiest sound. And then you kissed him again with more heat this time, and Bradley had to convince himself to do this the right way. "Hey," he whispered as he broke the kiss. "I still need your phone number."

"Okay," you replied, and you whispered it to him as he entered it into his phone contacts.

"Okay," he echoed as he handed your phone over for the first time since he took it from you outside the Hard Deck. You didn't even flinch as you swiped away the texts from Jake. "Now, here's what's going to happen. You ready?"

"I'm ready," you told him with a hesitant smile.

He kissed you one more time before he started to back away toward your front door. "I'm gonna go, but I'll call you."

"You better," you replied, and your smile was a little more sure now.

"I will," he promised. "Just wait." Then he opened the door and closed it behind him as he tapped your name on his phone screen.

You answered immediately, a giggle in your voice. "Hi, Bradley."

"Hey, so you know how you said I could call you today?"

"Yes," you replied, clearly smiling. "I do recall saying that."

"Great. So I was thinking I'd head home quick to get changed, and then I could come pick you up? Maybe we could get breakfast burritos and coffee from Lucy's Takeout? Go sit on the beach with the book?"

There was a beat of silence before you said, "That sounds nice."

"Then it's a date."

Bradley was all smiles as he ended the call and knocked on your door. When you opened it a second later, he leaned in and kissed you. "I actually need my shoes," he murmured against your lips, and you started laughing.

"Wait here," you told him before you dashed toward your room and then returned holding his shoes and the book. Bradley slipped his shoes on and took the book in one hand as he pulled you close with the other.

"I'll be right back. Like seriously, it'll be embarrassing how quickly I get back here."

You buried your face against his chest and whispered, "It'll be embarrassing how much that makes me smile."

He had to force himself to leave after that, because the sooner he got back to you, the sooner he could start making you his.

------------------------

Just imagine Bradley reading a book to you on the beach while also feeding you breakfast. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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souliebird · 8 months

Text

[[and then i met you || ch 16]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15

Words: 4.4k

ao3 link

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

You dream of hands.

They are strong, calloused, and scarred, but they are so gentle with you. They dance over your skin, tracing over your belly to your sides and go down to your thighs. They come back up, pushing your panties to the side and examine your most intimate areas, and though you feel desire radiating from them, they do not cross the line into deviant behavior. They do not tease - they explore and memorize and make you feel like something precious.

Once they have soaked themselves in the slick your body can't help but produce, they slide up to just under your belly button and rest there. Everything inside you flutters at the gesture and your body craves to be full - for the hands to feel the push back of a life moving inside you.

They don't linger long - only enough to make you squirm and gasp - before they are moving again. They drag up your center, skirting your breast like they dare not indulge.

They wrap around your throat and give a small squeeze. They are powerful and could crush you without a thought, but they don't. They release you and continue upward. They brush your cheeks, and when a thick digit pushes past your lips and you begin to suckle at it, you finally wake.

Your bedroom is filled with bright sunlight, and you groan with disappointment.

Your instinct tells you to roll into your pillow and try to continue sleeping but your mind is faster than your body and groggy memories of the day before beat against your skull.

Your ear has no problems reminding you that you are ill. As you come more into consciousness, you become aware of how much it aches and how overly warm you feel. You vaguely remember being woken up to have ear drops put in and to coaxed into drinking water. There are flashes of sweet words and praise and being held while you drift back to sleep and gentle little kisses all over your face.

You force your eyes to open and are greeted by the cartoonishly large ones of Scooby. He's right beside your pillow, like he's watching over you, and he's been maneuvered into wearing Minnie’s miniature doctor's coat with her bright pink toy stethoscope clamped around his neck. Your heart sings with love for your little girl and you hug the stuffed dog to your chest, burying your nose in his oversized head.

How in the world did you get a daughter who is so pure and full of compassion and love? It certainly isn't genetic - you don't think your parents knew what compassion was. If this is from what you have taught her, then maybe, just maybe, you have finally done something right with your life.

You stay hugging Doctor Scooby until your bladder complains and you force yourself out of bed.

Your phone is nowhere to be seen, but you don't worry about it too much - you only wanted to check the time. You have a feeling it's around midday, but you can't be too sure - all you know is it feels like you slept forever.

You grab a change of clothes, then head to the bathroom, bringing your toddler assigned guardian with you. After you take care of business, you take the time to clean yourself up a bit before changing into fresh clothing. It does wonders to improve how you feel. Your ear still throbs, and you feel stiff, but you don't feel like you've been wallowing in your own sweat.

As you clean up your small mess, you note the carefully arranged bottles in your bathtub have been switched around. Minnie’s shampoo is in the wrong place and instead of any annoyance, you find yourself smiling.

Matt must have given her a bath. You can imagine how it went, as your daughter enjoys getting clean and playing with all her water-based toys. She also adores helping and following directions, and you can picture her instructing her Daddy on how to wash her hair just right.

You would have thought you'd never trust Minnie with someone so soon after meeting them - there's no way you'd let any of your friends give her a bath - but with Matt it is so easy. He wants so much to be a good father and he and Mouse already have such a good bond. You are just sad you missed their first bath time together.

You take Doctor Scooby and your dirty clothes and leave the bathroom. Your clothes go into the hamper, then you and the toy dog make your way to the living room. You can hear the television going, but it's too low to make out what is playing, and your daughter giggling. The noise warms your heart, and you yearn for her.

The scene you come upon is something you don't expect - Matt is sitting cross legged on the ground, back facing you, with Minnie standing right in front of him. On the coffee table beside her, her toy makeup kit is laid out, with all the different brushes scattered everywhere. Your daughter has a look of pure concentration on her face as she examines her father, a tube of what you know to be roll on glitter clutched in her little fist.

Matt must be getting his first princess makeover.

You can't hold back the delighted noise that comes from your soul at the realization and that of course catches both of their attention.

“Mommy!”

A rocket made of brown curls and a yellow sundress crashes into your waiting arms. You squeeze her tight, trying to absorb her into your being, along with the Scooby plush. The hug only lasts a moment, as she quickly pulls back, slaps her little hands onto your cheeks, and declares, “You're still sick!”

You push your face into her touch, and give a sad laugh, guilt bubbling in your belly, “I am, I'm sorry, Mouse. But I feel better now, I promise.”

She purses her lips at you before dropping her hands from your face and says in an authoritative voice, “Doctor Scooby says you need more sleep.”

You look down at the toy still in your arms, then hold him up to be face to face with Minnie, “My body doesn't want to sleep anymore. Do you think it would be okay if I came out here to be with my family, Doctor Scooby?”

She takes the dog from you and jams his mouth to her ear. She pouts and goes, “uh-huh. Uh-huh. Okay,” before turning him so he is looking at you and you feel like you're being judged by him. “He says you have to stay on the couch. And no cookies!”

“No cookies?” Matt asks from behind Minnie, and you finally tear your eyes away from her to look at him. You have to bite your lip, so you don't laugh.

Mouse has gone above and beyond with her princess makeover.

Baby pink eyeshadow has been smeared over his eyelids, up to his thick eyebrows, and blended out to have a border of blue sparkles. His cheeks are rouged enough to make a flapper jealous, and a deep purplely-red stain has been carefully applied to his lips. Or as carefully as a three-year-old can do, which means the scruff around his mouth now has a nice tint to it. To top off his look, stick-on gems have been placed around his eyes, and the deep red color and shape of them mimic the glasses he typically wears.

He looks absolutely fabulous, and you need to find your phone so you can send pictures to Foggy and Karen.

“No cookies,” Minnie confirms, waving her plush at you to get your attention back onto her.

“Okay, no cookies,” you agree. You don't know if you actually have any cookies in the pantry to eat, anyways, so this will be an easy rule to follow. “And I have to stay on the couch?”

Minnie nods vigorously, “Doctor's orders!”

“Okay, if the doctor says so.”

You push yourself back into standing and your daughter takes your hand to practically march you over to the couch. You plop down in your corner and not a moment later, Scooby is back in your arms. Then, Minnie is zooming away from you and to the kitchen, calling back, “Daddy, I need help, please, thank you!”

Matt beams at you as he stands up and even with his face used as a coloring book, he looks handsome as ever, “I'm coming, my love.” His voice is full of joy and pride, and while you feel guilty, he is stuck babysitting while you're recovering, he clearly doesn't feel the same. You have the suspicion that every time Minnie calls him ‘Daddy’, his heart grows bigger.

You don't turn to spy as Matt disappears from your view. Your phone is on the table behind Minnie’s make up kit, so you grab that then pull the throw blanket off the back of the couch and wrap yourself in it after adjusting to get a little more comfortable.

There are no urgent or interesting notifications waiting for you - a few emails about sales and calendar reminders about upcoming bills that need to be paid. You swipe them away then turn your focus to the television. It is one of the educational videos about animals your little one has started watching in preparation for her birthday trip to the zoo. The date is coming up fast and you wonder if she's been telling Matt about all the animals she's excited to see. You can't wait to take her to the park for her special day.

Minnie brings you from your thoughts with another yell of, “Mommy!” She hurries into your view and your heart swells with love. She's holding your water bottle, which she shoves at you, “Doctor Scooby says…he says you have to stay hide-rated. I asked Daddy what that means and he said you gotta drink lots of water! I got you water!”

You take your bottle and have to resist the urge to take her up in your lap as well. Your little angel is so sweet and thoughtful, and you very much want to wrap her up in your arms and never let go.

“Thank you so much, sweetie, I'll make sure to keep hydrated. Promise,” you tell her, fully meaning to do just that. You try to drink a lot of water anyways, so it shouldn't be hard to accomplish.

Minnie, however, either doesn't believe you or is over eager to take care of you. She grabs a hold of one of your legs and shakes it as hard as she can, demanding “Drink!” She drags out the word in a way only a toddler can and to soothe her, you take a long sip of water.

“What else did Doctor Scooby say?” Matt asks as he returns from the kitchen, and you can feel the grin in his words.

Mouse takes in the question, swaying slightly as she thinks, then breaks out into a big grin as she recites, “Lots of rest and…and a ...a towel on her ear! To help the ickies!”

“Exactly,” Matt practically cooes as he scoops up his daughter, swinging her around before securing her on his hips. He tilts his head towards you, looking proud as can be, “I think we have a little doctor on our hands.”

“I'm gonna be a veteran!” Minnie declares, puffing up her chest.

You know she means veterinarian and decide you aren't going to correct her. Instead, you're going to tease her about her past career goals, “I thought you wanted to be a hot dog vendor?”

Her eyes get wide at the reminder, and she quickly amends, “I'm gonna do that on the weekend!”

“So, veteran during the week and hot dog vendor on the weekend?” Matt confirms, blue sparkly eyebrows raised.

“Yeah!”

You and Matt both huff in laughter and your little one beams at the attention.

You take in Matt's appearance, with his devastatingly handsome face and boyish charm and a warmth churns in your belly. To push away those feelings, you ask, “are you still going to have time to give Daddy makeovers with all that work?”

Minnie looks at Matt and analyzes him, before starting to wiggle to be put down, “you need says-or-eases!” You guess she isn't done with him yet and talks of her future will have to wait.

He sets her on the ground, asking, “I need what?” but she doesn't acknowledge him, running off to the bedroom to grab more of her toys. You watch as he moves his head in minute movements, brow wrinkling up. He must be trying to figure out what his daughter is fetching.

“What is she getting?” Matt finally asks you and you take a sip of water so swallow down any smugness you have.

“Accessories,” you clarify. “You can't have a makeover without getting some new accessories.”

He mouths the word, and you know he has no idea what is to come - Foggy’s nieces must be too old for dress up and makeovers. He remains standing until Minnie comes waddling back. She's carrying one of the purses you've gotten for her, and she's stuffed it full of costume jewelry and hair clips. She dumps it all out on the ground by Matt's feet with a demand of, “Sit, please, thank you!”

Bewildered, he does as he's told, and your daughter wastes no time trying to determine what looks best with his makeup. She holds a necklace up, looking between it and him before setting it aside with a ‘no!’ This happens again and again as she goes through her necklaces, then clip-on earrings and bangles - none of which fit over Matt's hands and are abandoned - and finally hair clips.

You enjoy the process, sitting back and letting yourself wake up as Minnie describes each accessory to her Daddy as she decides if it matches the aesthetic. You snap photos to send to your new friends and Matt is good enough to even pose for a few.

The final look consists of a giant yellow heart necklace, blue teardrop dangle earrings, and Beauty and the Beast hair bow. He looks very dashing, and you tell him as much as you send the end product over to Foggy and Karen.

“If hot dog vending doesn't work out, your side hustle can be as a stylist,” you tease and Minnie beams at you, enjoying the praise. Matt examines what he is wearing, carefully touching the plastic jewelry to better understand what he looks like as Mouse reminds him of the colors.

As they do that, you check the time. It is a little past Nap Time, so once the conversation starts to change, you address your daughter, “Would you like to clean up your toys and get some juice?”

You know she knows this transition and she doesn't hesitate to nod and start to act. She starts with the things on the floor, stuffing them back into her purse and Matt jumps into Dad-mode.

“What type of juice do you want, Mouse?”

“Apple juice, please, thank you.”

“Half juice, half water,” you advise as he carefully navigates out of the living area.

“Is the cup from last night, okay? The sippy one?”

“The bunny one!” Is the almost haughty reply. The pink bunny is the pre-nap juice cup, and you think a fit might be thrown if tradition isn't followed, so you untangle yourself from the blanket and go to the kitchen. Luckily, no one calls you out for leaving the couch.

You smile at Matt as you pass him, and explain, “I ordered water resistant Braille label stickers but haven't finished putting them on all her things yet.” You open the cabinet that holds all of her various cups and pull out the correct one, then pass it over. “This one I did label.”

Matt takes it and runs his fingers over the surface until he finds the Braille, “Pink with bunnies. For Juice. Nap Time.” His face relaxes into something soft as he retraces the words. You don't know how descriptive you need to be with everything, but you know you don't need to spell everything out for him. His lips twitch into a smile and he whispers to you, “thank you,” before turning to the fridge to get out the juice.

You don't want to make things awkward by lingering, so you shuffle back to the couch and reclaim your spot. Matt joins you a minute later, setting the sippy cup on the table.

Mouse finishes cleaning up her toys rather quickly, then grabs her juice and crawls up to be between the two of you. You change the television over to one of the Pre-Nap shows - something calming to help everyone wind down - and out of the corner of your eye, you see your daughter snuggle into her Daddy's side and begin to sip her juice. Matt wraps his arm around her shoulders and begins to oh so gently pet over her arm.

She's out before she finishes her juice.

You don't miss the opportunity to take more pictures of Matt looking down at Minnie. You know he can't see her with his eyes, but you wonder what input he is getting and if he knows how sweet the pair of them look.

You sit silently and wait until you're sure she won't wake up, then reach to gently touch Matt's shoulders, “Do you want to put her in her bed?”

He nods slowly, his whole being screaming with love for his little girl. You take the sippy cup away as he carefully picks her up after standing and you watch as he cradles her to his chest. He stands there for a moment, holding her close, and you think he must be savoring the moment.

You don't disturb him and after a minute, he starts towards the bedroom. You wait until he's disappeared down the hallway to get up and go pour out the remainder of Minnie’s juice. You clean the cup, then grab some skin friendly wet wipes - you have the feeling Matt may not want to keep wearing his makeup. It feels gummy on your skin so you can't imagine how irritating he finds it.

You resettle on the couch and change from sleepy television to soul crushing television - the midday news.

You usually like to catch the top stories and the weather before switching away, but given Nap Time came a little late today, you miss those. Instead, you tune into the host interviewing some politician and the headline bar tells you he's a senator and they are discussing the Connecticut explosion. You turn up the volume slightly, so you can actually hear it.

“- leaked report states this was not an attack, but the attempted arrest of an Enhanced individual gone wrong. Allegedly, the destruction of a neighborhood and the 634 deaths, dozens of which were children, was all caused by one man with powers. What are your thoughts on this, Senator Kelly?”

You frown at the new information. One person caused all that pain? Or are they just blaming one individual?

“Thank you for having me, Vicki,” the Senator says, and you already don't like him. He gives off a slimy vibe - like he doesn't care about anyone but himself. “I've read the report and I've been on the ground, talking to the people whose lives were destroyed, and I've got one question in mind: why were the good people of Stamford not made aware they were living next to a bomb? This individual, whose identity is still being hidden, only released one attack. One!”

Your eyes go wide at the statement. That can't be true. Can someone really have that much power inside of them? You can understand people like Iron Man with a bunch of missiles strapped to him, but someone who is Enhanced?

“What do you propose, Senator?” Vicki asks and something like dread turns in your stomach.

Matt reenters the room just as the vile man begins speaking again. He comes to stand by the couch, putting his hand on the cushion behind your shoulder.

“The American people deserve to know who they are living next to. We implemented this policy for sexual deviants, and we should do the same for these so-called Enhanced Individuals! The Sokovia Accords talks about registering ‘super heroes’,” Kelly uses air quotes around the word, a disgusted look on his face, “but this man wasn't a hero. He was a literal ticking time bomb and who knows how many more Enhanced Individuals are out there just like him. How would you feel if your neighbor could blow up your house with a wave of their arm, or walk through your walls, or Heaven-forbid, control you with their mind? S.H.I.E.L.D showed us all those people existed! How are we supposed to protect ourselves against that? Whose stopping those people from causing the next Sokovia, or Lagos, or Stamfo-”

You turn off the television. You can't hear any more of that man's rancid words and implications.

You tilt your head up to look at Matt and your heart pangs for him. He's openly scowling and in the corner of your eye, you see him gripping the couch cushion tightly.

Your body acts without thought and you reach up to squeeze his bicep, “Matt...?”

“He's talking about people like they are uncontrollable weapons,” he grinds out, “this is McCarthy Era ‘everyone who isn't you is a threat’ bullshit.”

“I know,” you say to try to soothe some of the anger you see boiling in him. You understand the anger and you are angry, too. You think Matt falls under the umbrella of ‘Enhanced Individuals’ and if so, Minnie does as well. It terrifies you that someone who is supposed to be running the country is spitting out such words, but you want to believe he's in the fringe. You want to believe your government doesn't think your daughter is a threat just because she's different. “He's vile.”

With his free hand, Matt wipes at his mouth, still looking furious, “everything he is saying goes against the Constitution. People have the right to privacy.”

You gently tug on his arm, and he takes the signal to come around and sit beside you. You turn to face him, and he does the same, and you decide to take the initiative. You want him to feel better.

You are slow with your movements, so he can figure out your intentions, and unclip the bow from his hair. His eyes flutter shut before he takes a deep, calming breath, “I can't believe they let people like him on the news.”

You hum, then remove his necklace before going for the earrings, “I can. They love to stir the pot and giving those horrible people airtime gets them more views. They don't care about what's being said, only how much money they are getting for it “

“That's bleak,” he grumbles.

“It's better than the networks believing that bullshit,” you reply, as you pluck the red gems from his face. That makes him huff and a little smile form on his lips.

“You're good at this.”

“At what?” You ask as you set aside the jewelry on the table and grab the wet wipes.

“Defusing the situation, turning the negative into a positive,” he says. He keeps his eyes closed as you start to wipe away the makeup Minnie caked onto him, starting with his rouge.

“Is it a positive the news wants money instead of spewing hate?” You counter, a little bit of a tease in your voice. He reaches out and squeezes your knee and you can't help but smile. “Though, I guess it is better to be a capitalist than a Nazi.”

“That's the American way of thinking,” Matt jokes and you have to stop cleaning away the makeup so you can both laugh.

You fall back into silence as you start in on his eye shadow. He keeps his hand on your knee, slowly beginning to rub his thumb back and forth over your sweats. You can practically see the tension bleeding out of his shoulders and a bit of pride swirls in your chest. You feel guilty for turning on and listening to the news in the first place.

When it comes time for you to wipe away the stain on Matt's lips, you hesitate.

You've been trying to ignore the feelings that have been slowly growing inside you. You thought of them as weeds - byproducts of Matt being naturally charming and kind and the father of your child. You know you are attracted to him - you slept with him, after all - but emotionally?

You're terrified of that.

You're terrified of him not returning the feelings.

You're terrified you only see what he allows you to see, and when the facade drops, someone else will appear.

You're terrified of messing everything up - for yourself. For Minnie.

You don't want to think of your dreams, where you know it's him you are imagining. You don't want to think about how perfect it felt to be held by him and know you were safe. You don't want to think about how he still hasn't left you since you had to be taken to the hospital.

You can't fall down that rabbit hole. It's too much for you.

So, you try to rip away the things growing inside you before they bloom and push forward. You fold the wet wipe in half and begin to remove the last of the makeup. You don't rush, taking just as much care as you had getting rid of the blue sparkles.

“All done,” you say as you finish and pull away from him, turning purposefully so his hand slides off your leg. You pretend to not notice and focus on balling up the used wipes.

“Thank you,” he responds quietly, turning as well so he's facing the television once again. You fear things are going to dip into awkwardness, but Matt speaks again before you get to say something stupid. His words are soft and steady, but strike fear into your heart.

“There was something I wanted to talk with you about.”

You try to swallow down your anxiety and tell yourself that this isn't about your silly emotions - whatever Matt has to say must be regarding Minnie. It's the only thing that makes sense, so you come out a small “Yeah?”

“I wanted to talk to you about my mother.”

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#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #and then i met you

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navybrat817 · 2 years

Text

A Real Prince Charming

Pairing: Librarian!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You get to see Bucky in his element. Word Count: Over 2.1k Warnings: Fluff, (f)lirting, feels, passionate Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?) Graphics Talent: Edit by Nix (extra thanks for spitballing!), banner by @sgt-seabass, divider by @firefly-graphics - Thank you, lovelies! A/N: Follow up to Once Upon a Time and Far, Far Away. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Picking out on an outfit to wear to the library took you more time than you cared to admit. You didn't want it to be too revealing since you were visiting Bucky at his job and there would be kids around. You also didn't want to look too casual since you were going on a date.

"What's the big deal? It's just pizza," Tina said on the video call as you held up a shirt. "Wear a sweater."

Might as well have just told me to wear a burlap sack.

"It isn't just pizza. It's the first of many dates," Kim argued on your behalf. "Wear a dress."

You inwardly sighed as you tossed the top onto the pile with the others. While it thrilled you that your friends were interested, you were nervous enough to begin with and the call almost caused additional stress. They were only trying to help though and that mental reminder pushed some of the nerves away.

"Or just wear whatever you feel is comfortable that still looks nice," Nicole suggested, bringing balance to the optimist and pessimist. "Whatever you wear, he's going to love it."

I hope so.

"Nice jeans and a blouse it is," you decided.

I still can't believe he agreed to go out with me.

Kim clapped giddily. "You have to tell us everything, promise?"

"And keep us on standby if you need an escape, okay?" Tina asked.

One of the reasons you loved having her as a friend was because of her protective nature. No matter how blunt she could be, she would be the first to step up if anyone tried to hurt you or your other friends. At the end of the day, her heart was in the right place.

"I won't need an escape, but thank you," you assured them, smiling at your friends through the phone. "And I'll give you the details within reason."

Nicole's eyebrows shot up before she smirked. "Within reason, huh? Does that mean you're going to put out on the first date?"

Why did I say that?

"Did you see his picture? I'd put out, too. At the library," Kim grinned mischievously as you went back to the closet and searched through your clothes. “I would even let him put it in my-”

"Sluts. All of you," Tina joked.

"I'm hanging up now. Thanks!" you announced, disconnecting yourself from the chat after they wished you "good luck".

You pushed through a few more hangers before you stopped and pulled out a blouse, smiling as you looked it over. It was casual enough for the library and pizza, but still nice enough for a date. The shade of blue was nearly identical to Bucky's eyes.

Perfect. Now I just need to make sure not to fall on my face.

The Abraham Library was, unsurprisingly, quiet when you entered the building. The soothing light and smell of paper brought you back to when you were younger and eager to get your hands on a new book. Electronic devices made reading more accessible to some, but they couldn't beat the feeling of holding a book in your hands as you curled up and immersed yourself in a new world.

Fitting I'd go for a man surrounded by books.

You spotted Bucky as you made your way to the service desk and wished you had a glass of water with how dry your throat went from looking at him. He was every bit as handsome as when you met him on the subway in slacks, a sweater, and glasses. Though you witnessed firsthand how intimidating he could be, you had a feeling the kids adored him.

You couldn't wait to see if he proved you right.

You quietly walked over to the desk as Bucky spoke in a hushed tone to a colleague. You weren't about to raise your voice to get his attention and you didn't want to interrupt his conversation. Whatever it was, he sounded a bit worked up even as he kept his voice down. You hoped everything was okay.

"You realize that they're restricting access to diverse voices and censoring speech by banning books, don't you?" Bucky asked as he pointed to a piece of paper from the counter.

"They're not doing that," his coworker said.

"Yes, they are. They're saying that some experiences and topics are worthy of discussion and exposure and others aren't," Bucky argued as he brushed a hand through his hair and slowly exhaled. "They're reinforcing a way of thinking that limits others. Kids are trying to find their way in the world and they should have the right to choose and be properly educated."

You almost propped an elbow on the counter to watch and listen as you fell a bit in love with the hunky librarian. You didn't get to witness a man speak so passionately about his beliefs very often. Hearing that it was in regards to the type of literature kids could or couldn't read and how they should have the freedom to choose made it even better.

"It's not that deep, man. Let it go," Bucky's coworker said.

“You let it go, Greg,” he grumbled.

The retort made you giggle, which got Greg’s attention. "Sorry, miss. May I help you?"

"I'm waiting for him," you smiled as Bucky turned to you with wide eyes and pink cheeks. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

"Hi," he said, swallowing as he pushed his glasses up and smoothed out the non-existent wrinkle in his sweater. "You look. Wow."

It's just a compliment. Don't preen.

"Thanks," you smiled.

"I hope you weren't standing there long."

"Just long enough to hear you defend what kids should have access to reading, which I happen to agree with you."

"You do?" he asked, running a hand through his hair again.

Adorable.

You hoped it didn't embarrass him that you overheard the conversation, but his cheeks still had a pink tinge to them. You wondered how warm they were to the touch. Maybe you'd find out at a later time.

Like when his coworker wasn't looking between the two of you with growing interest.

"I do," you confirmed. "I wish more people were passionate about topics like that."

The lopsided smile on Bucky's face was one you hoped to see again and again.

"You must be the new volunteer Bucky wouldn't shut up about. I'm Greg."

"Nice to meet you, Greg," you said, glancing coyly at Bucky. "You were talking about me?"

"Why don't I show you to the children's section?" he replied, shooting Greg a look before he gestured for you to follow him. "And for the record, yes. He may have asked why I wouldn't stop smiling after our phone call."

You almost swooned again. The wonderful, handsome librarian smiled at the thought of going out with you. Were you dreaming?

You pinched yourself.

Not a dream.

"You mean the call where you heard me shriek?" you asked, biting back a groan.

Why did I bring that up? Can I blame his handsome face for causing my brain to fritz?

"Yes, that call," he chuckled as you got to the area with bright colors and high ceilings.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said as he began to arrange some of the cushions in a semi-circle.

“You brought up the shriek,” he pointed out.

Touche.

“So, we’re forming a semi-circle?” you asked, following his lead.

“Yes,” he smiled, placing another cushion on the carpet before he looked around the area. “We do basic story time four times a week for some of the younger kids. A few of them like to go to the quiet reading areas after or do STEM activities, like the Tinker and Crafts Lab. Plenty of opportunities to play with the open floor space or use the technology at their disposal. There’s even an area for pre-walkers and a baby mat for tummy time.”

You smiled at the pride in his voice. Though you were only in the beginning stages of getting to know him, you sensed that the library wasn’t just a place where he worked. He was in his element here. Maybe that was one of the reasons he was so passionate about the kids being able to read whatever they wanted.

“Sounds like you put a lot of love and care into this library,” you said as he selected a book from the small stack on the nearby table.

“Yeah, well. I spent a lot of time here when I was a kid. Read as many books as I could get my hands on,” he said as he shuffled the book between his hands. “One of my best friends got picked on a lot for being small, so we hung out here some days. We’d read or draw until it was time for us to go home. Still one of my best friends to this day.”

Chivalrous, a good friend, and cares about the well-being of kids. A real Prince Charming.

“Sounds like you were lucky to have each other,” you said, brushing your hand against his forearm. “And you should be proud of what you’ve done with the place.”

Bucky didn’t blush, but the lopsided grin was back on his face. “You being nice so I’ll pay for your pizza?” he asked, gently taking your hand in his.

You didn’t realize there was only a few inches of space between you until you stared directly into his eyes. Your nerve endings singed with electricity and you wished were bold enough to drag him away to one of the bookshelves. If you were lucky, maybe another time.

Not when you were about to help him with a group of children.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you smiled back. “I can pay for my own pizza. Should pay for yours, too, for stepping in on the subway.”

“I thought we both agreed you could've handled it," he reminded you. "And I wouldn’t make my girl pay for her meal or mine.”

"Oh, so I'm your girl now?" you smiled wider, wondering if your stomach would keep doing summersaults around him. "You move fast."

"I don't do everything fast," he whispered.

Oh.

“Mr. Barnes!”

You jumped away from Bucky at the sound of a woman’s voice, but he didn’t let go of your hand right away. An elderly woman stood a few feet away with a little girl by her leg. She gave you both a tiny wave.

And gave you a chance to breathe.

"Greg said there was a new volunteer," the woman smiled.

“Hi, Mrs. West. Hi, Joely. And, yes, this is our new volunteer,” he smiled as he introduced you. "Are you excited for story time, Joley?”

“Uh huh,” she said, giving you another wave. “You’re pwetty.”

What a sweetheart.

“This very pretty lady is excited to help today,” Bucky smiled, making your heart speed up. “Is that okay with you?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded.

“Thank you, Joley,” you grinned. “For the compliment and for letting me help.”

“Thank you. She looks forward to this every week,” Mrs. West said as Bucky offered his hand to Joley and led her to the carpet as other kids began to arrive. “He really is a wonderful man. Joley was falling behind on reading and my daughter and her teacher did everything they could think of to help. He stayed with her to help, even when his shifts were over. He helped her fall in love with books.”

“He seems like the kind of man who makes it easy to fall in love,” you said, your eyes wide when Mrs. West stared at you. “With books,” you added quickly.

“Of course,” Mrs. West nodded. “You know, I’ve been bringing my granddaughter here for some time now and, I have to say, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him hold hands with any of the other volunteers. I haven’t even heard him mention anyone special. I’ve asked, believe me.”

I'm not special to him already, am I?

“Oh, we’re not. Well, we are,” you tried to think of the right words. “I mean, we’re going on a date.”

“You don’t say? I hope it goes well. Maybe you’ll make it easy for him to fall in love, too,” she grinned before she walked away.

Your gaze flickered over to Bucky where he sat on the floor. He had Joley in his lap and held the book open, ready for the other kids to join them. It was a beautiful image.

As the librarian looked up at you and smiled, you hoped Mrs. West was right.

Pizza date to come soon. Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #librarian!bucky barnes #librarian!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months

Text

Baby fever

PAIRING | Husband!Young!Tony Stark x Wife!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 3.7K

SUMMARY | You and Tony have three beautiful children, but since your youngest son is growing up faster than either of you would like, Tony's baby fever is kicking into high gear. He can't get enough of seeing you pregnant, and he's making it his goal to have it happen again. There's enough room in the house for one more, after all.

RATING | Explicit (E)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Established relationship, nicknames (Sunshine, My Love, Baby, Handsome), tooth-rotting fluff combined with toe-curling smut.

SMUT | Porn with a bit of plot, D/S undertones, Sub!Tony is heavily featured throughout the story, breeding/pregnancy kink, lactation kink, drinking of breastmilk (sexual), daddy kink, mommy kink, begging, teasing, hair pulling, nipple play, nipple piercings, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), creampie, aftercare.

A/N | This amazing fic is completely inspired by the lovely @ccbsrmsf1, who has helped me come up with the idea and supported me every step of the way! Carol, this is for you, and I sincerely hope you will enjoy it! I love you, and I cannot thank you enough for being in my life 💜

EVENTS Masterlist | @fluffbruary Fluffbruary '24 | Wish Masterlist | @sweetspicybingo Sweethearts | Nice ass

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

Since you found Tony's old football jersey from your college days, you have been plotting a plan to wear it in the hopes of getting a reaction out of your husband. Today is perfect for that, as you're visiting your Mom in California, and she offered to take all three of your wonderful kids to Disneyland with her fiancé, Jackson.

"You two can stay home and have some alone time; you deserve it, Buttercup. You've been working so hard, and now that you're finally able to see him after he's been gone for filming, you should make up for some of the lost time," Virginia told you with a wink, and even though you were a little embarrassed at first, you also know she's right.

With three kids, it's proving to be rather challenging to have some time to yourselves and be intimate, so this is the perfect solution. That's how you find yourself standing in the bathroom in your Mom's house, wearing only your glasses and Tony's dark blue football jersey. The fabric reaches down to your knees, and your nipple piercings show through the fabric for a bit of a teasing touch.

With one last deep breath, you walk to the kitchen, where Tony has just finished the dishes from the lunch he prepared for you earlier. He turns around at the sound of your footsteps on the tiled flooring, but before he can say anything, he is greeted by you, clothed as if you walked right out of one of his wet dreams.

"Fuck, Sunshine, you sure know how to surprise your man," Tony growls as he walks over to where you're standing. As he takes in your form, he can already feel himself growing hard inside his sweatpants, which doesn't go unnoticed by you.

"I thought we could have some fun on the couch, My Love. The kids are with Mom and Jackson, so we have this all to ourselves," you whisper in his ear as you pull him closer by his shirt, his breath hitching as his now hard and sensitive cock makes contact with your soft belly.

"Who am I to say no when my beautiful wife looks like she walked out of my dreams?" Tony answers, his voice dropping an octave as lust fills it. Your hands glide under his shirt, pulling it over his head before discarding it.

Before you move on to anything else, you let your long nails rake over his sensitive nipples, a moan escaping from Tony's slack lips as you smirk up at him.

"Always so sensitive for me," you tell him before standing on your toes and taking his bottom lip between your teeth, biting down softly as he moans again. His long, dark lashes fluttered against his cheeks as he took in the pleasure.

"Good boy," you whisper against his mouth, his bottom lip lightly swelling, making him look even more beautiful than he already was. You kiss his tattoo softly as he lets his hands glide into your hair to ground himself gently.

"Let's move this to the couch, Sunshine," Tony tells you with a slight New York drawl, pleasure already taking over his brain. As you proceed to push him to the couch, you can feel yourself getting more and more wet with every step you two take. As soon as his legs hit the couch, he lets himself fall, spreading his thighs to give his achingly hard cock some room as it strains against the fabric.

Your legs are placed on each side of him, the jersey riding up dangerously high as you take your place. Your ass and pussy are barely covered when you sit, Tony's hands rubbing your thighs as he takes in the sight in front of him.

"You're so fucking gorgeous like this, Sunshine, 'm very lucky with you as my wife," he whispers before capturing your lips with his and taking the lead, effectively taking back any domination you had over him. You moan into his mouth as he slips in his tongue, his fingers digging into the inked flesh on your thighs.

As he glides his hands up your thighs and under his jersey, he finds the bare globes of your butt, kneading them softly as you start to move your hips to get a little friction, the fabric of his sweatpants relieving the burning ache of pleasure between your thighs.

"Can you look at me for a moment, Sunshine? I've got something important to tell you," Tony whispers in your ear, and that's when you realize your eyes have slipped shut. When you open them, you look into his dark brown eyes. As he takes a deep breath, you can't help but think about how beautiful he looks, and a smile tugs at the corners of your lips.

"I know we've been talking about adding a fourth baby to our family, and I can't stop thinking about it. How perfect would it be if we had a small girl who would look just like you? I can't stop thinking about it, you with your perfect, round belly as I drink from these amazing tits of yours before you make me a Daddy again," Tony says, another gush of arousal leaking out as you soak Tony's pants even further.

"Please, Sunshine, will you give me another baby? Let me fill you up with my cum until you're beautifully round for me as you carry our daughter?" he asks as he nuzzles his nose against your throat, your head tipping back to give him even more access.

"Yes, My Love, please! I want all your delicious cum inside me, and I want to make another baby with you; I would love to add another name to his amazing tattoo of yours," you tell him, your fingertips gliding softly over the ink proudly displayed on the firm plane of muscle. The sun, moon, and stars look beautiful; your kid's names make it perfect.

And with those words, it's officially decided: you and Tony will add another baby to your family. Whether it will be your Little Prince or Princess, it doesn't matter because you both know they will be loved deeply. And before it's time to find out, you can have all the fun in the world when you're making your newest addition.

"Let's get the jersey off, hm? I want to touch my girl the way she deserves," Tony says, and you nod, lifting your arms in response to his question. During all this, you never stopped rutting your hips over his cock, his release almost there as he lifted the fabric.

"That's it, Sunshine, you make Daddy feel good," he tells you with a breathy voice. As soon as the fabric is over your pierced breasts, making them spill out and bounce before him, he loses every ounce of self-control. Groaning loudly as he cums in his pants like a teenager, a deep red blush covers his cheeks and neck as he rides out his orgasm under you.

"Ah, did you cum already, Baby? What do you think? Do you want Mommy to clean up her sweet, blushing boy?" you purr in his ear, and he nods as you slide off his lap and take your place between his legs. Your fingers hook around the fabric of his sweatpants before tugging them down, revealing the sticky mess he created not even a few minutes ago.

His cock is lying soft between his thighs, but it's by no means small, and you're already drooling at the sight. He whimpers softly as you take hold of his sensitive member, your tongue licking clean every single inch of him.

"M-Mommy, please, wanna drink," Tony whispers, and you smile before getting up, taking your place on his lap again. Tony has always enjoyed drinking your breastmilk now that you’re breastfeeding your son Paxton, and it’s something you both highly enjoy each time he does, whether it’s in a sexual manner or just to calm his mind.

"Yeah? Do you want to drink from Mommy? Go ahead, Baby, take what you want." As soon as the words have left your lips, he's latched onto your breast, suckling heavily until the first spurts of your breastmilk hit his tongue, and he sighs contently as his brain calms down at the feeling of the pierced nipple in his mouth.

Your head falls back as Tony drinks from you, and you can't resist sliding your bare pussy over his thigh, the friction feeling delicious together with the feeling of your husband drinking from you. Soft moans leave your lips as you brace yourself with your hands in his hair, pulling it as you can feel your orgasm creeping closer.

Tony seemingly gets the hint as he flexes his thigh muscles, and with only a few more thrusts over his thigh, you're falling apart with a chant of his name. He groaned before letting go of your one breast, only to quickly latch onto the other, which he drank happily from as you rode out your orgasm.

"That's it, my sweet boy, keep drinking from Mommy," you tell him as you guide him to sit with his back against the couch, his mouth never leaving your nipple as he sucks to get more of the precious milk he loves so much. You let yourself recover from your orgasm as he does, just enjoying the intimate moment with your husband right now.

By the time he's finished, he is also fully hard again, your hand wrapped around his cock as you jerk him gently, earning yourself soft moans and whimpers from him that have your pussy dripping within no time.

On days like these, when Tony's letting you take the lead, you're feeling a power you've rarely felt, and you love using him for nothing but your pleasure. And he loves being your human fucktoy, too.

"Do you want to make Mommy feel good with this delicious cock of yours? Want to fill me up with your cum to give me a baby?" you ask Tony, and he nods with a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over as they're looking at you from underneath his long, dark lashes.

"Please, Mommy, wanna fill you up," he whispers, his hand gliding over his chest to his cock, grabbing the base as you get in position on top of him. As much as you and Tony love missionary, moments like these make you like cowgirl even more. Riding Tony to his orgasm as you can play with his nipples, pull his hair, or have him do the most unthinkable of things to you have you clenching already, and he's not even inside you yet.

The moment you sink onto his cock, you can feel every single vein on it, the stretch giving a positive burn as it feels like you're being split open. When he's soft, he's already big, but when he's hard? You can barely take all of him in your mouth, and the stretch of your pussy is always something you have to take your time with. He doesn't tell you that he'll feed you his monster of a cock for nothing, after all.

"Oh, fuck! Such a perfect cock for me, Baby, splitting me open so well! Can feel you in my belly," you whisper when you're fully seated, his balls pressing against your ass while you adjust to his size. Moans are tumbling from both your lips, and Tony can't stop digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips, a pussydrunk look on his face.

"S-so tight, Mommy, such a tight pussy for me to love," he tells you after pulling you closer, the warm metal of your piercings a stark contrast against the rest of your flesh. His face is nuzzled in your neck as he breathes in your scent, and you pepper soft kisses on his hair and neck.

C'mere, sweet boy, give Mommy a kiss," you tell him, and he obediently lifts his head, meeting your lips with his in a heated, passionate moment that has his head reeling in no time. Your tongue slips into his mouth effortlessly, dancing with his in a loving, sensual way while his hands are wrapped loosely around your waist, yours tangled in his soft locks.

When you pull away, you put your forehead against his, and you feel his cock throb inside you as you make small, teasing grinds against him. As he looks up at you with sweet, puppylike eyes, your heart flutters, and warmth spreads through your chest at the sight. You're very fortunate to have fallen in love with Tony, and it brings a smile to your face.

"What's funny?" he asks as he pecks your lips, and you place your hands on his cheeks, rubbing them softly with your thumbs.

"Nothin'. I was thinking how lucky I am to be married to you and have our three beautiful Munchkins. You saved me and supported me to become the best version of myself after everything that happened, and I love you more than I could ever tell you," you whisper, trying to fight back the tears as you think back to everything that had happened before you had the chance to meet him.

"I'm the lucky one, Sunshine, got a beautiful wife-" he says as his hands wander over your inked body, fingers trailing carefully over the tattoo you got in his honor. "-and three beautiful babies too. 'M the luckiest man on earth," he tells you with such a sweet, soft voice that you can't help yourself as the tears spill over and Tony quickly wipes them away.

"I love you, Tony," you whisper as you pull him close, needing to feel him for a moment. He happily pulls you against his chest; his face nuzzled in your neck while you place kisses on his shoulder. The moment feels perfect, and you're allowing yourself to bask in the love shared between you two.

After a while, Tony's starting to feel a little restless as he tries to rut his hips up into you, rubbing the tip of his cock against your sweet spot each time. You allow him to do his thing as you let him go, and before you know it, he's flipped you over onto the couch, your back now feeling the soft fabric while Tony pounds into you at an unrelenting pace, making you see stars.

"Fuck, that's it! Fuck a baby into me, Daddy, I'm close!" you tell him, and with a shout of his name, you cum, clenching down on his cock as he keeps fucking, his orgasm nearing too. In an effort to ground yourself as he’s bringing you to your high, you take your nails over his back, and it only intensifies the pleasure he feels the deep stinging of your nails scratching his back. A loud groan escapes him before his pace gets sloppy, and you know he’s close.

"That's it, Sunshine, take it, take all my cum! Got so much for you- balls are so fucking heavy all for you," Tony pants out, his pace faltering as he spills every last drop of his cum inside you before carefully pulling out of you.

"I love you so, so much, My Love. Thank you for being the best husband I could have ever asked for," you whisper to his freckled skin, and he hums in response as he's coming down from his high. This was a much-needed moment for the two of you, and you're very grateful for every last second of it.

The two of you took the good part of an hour to bask in the glory of what you two did as you whispered sweet nothings to each other and exchanged a sea of kisses and soft touches. Now it's time for a much-needed shower, as you're covered in dried-up sweat, cum, and arousal, and you're starting to feel a little sticky everywhere.

"C'mon, My Love! Let's hop in the shower, and after, we can watch a movie on the couch," you tell Tony, and he agrees as he gets up from the couch, though his legs still feel like they're made out of jelly. As he falls back onto the couch, you can't help but chuckle at the sight and take a moment to take in the sight in front of you.

Tony's seated on the couch with his eyes looking at you intently, his cream-colored skin slightly flushed from the exertion you have put him through. His broad shoulders, the chest hair trailing down to his toned abs, and his happy trail all led to his delicious cock. If he weren't already entirely spent, you would have happily spent more time on your knees worshipping it, but instead, you reach out your hand to help him again.

"You like what you see, Sunshine?" Tony says shyly, and you feel a heat roaring up inside you. There's nothing you love more than when Tony's shy side comes out, making him look even cuter. It's something all your kids have, too, and it's a trait you adore about them.

"Always do, Handsome," you tell him as you pull him up, finally making your way to the shower. You both take your time washing each other's bodies, and Tony can't help but pay some extra attention to your nipples, rolling and tugging carefully on the barbells adorning them to coax more moans out of you.

"Let's get you settled on the bed, My Love - you've been such a good boy for Mommy that you deserve a back massage," you tell him, and he can feel his cock jump at your words. The sight of you being pregnant shoots through his mind again, and he has to use every ounce of self-control not to bend you over the bed and take you right then and there.

When he's lying on his stomach on the bed, you go and straddle his thighs right beneath his butt before dripping some of your favorite massage oil onto his muscled back. With a soft hum, you start massaging it in, starting at his shoulders as you rub out the knots there.

"God, how did I get so fucking lucky?! Got a beautiful wife with a body to die for, an amazing personality, and great at massaging? I must have won the jackpot with you, Sunshine," he grumbles as you work out every last knot in his back, relaxing him completely as every bit of tension melts under your skilled fingertips.

"I'm lucky too, you know; I get to see the nice ass you have back here every single day," you tell him with a playful smack on his butt cheek, a deep chuckle escaping from his chest that has your butterflies go crazy. Even after a few years of marriage and over a decade of being together, he still makes you feel like you did the first time you met him.

When the massage is finished, both of you get dressed in matching grey lounge outfits, with 'Mr. Stark' and 'Mrs. Stark' embroidered on them, together with your wedding date. Both of you wear your glasses to finish it off, and now it's time to relax until everyone comes home.

As you watch a few movies together on the couch, you're constantly cuddling, kissing, or having a little make-out session between feeding each other various sorts of fruit until your belly starts to rumble around dinner time, and it's time for the two of you to order some take-out. Before they all went out the door, Virginia slipped Tony some money for dinner, and even though you two could easily afford it yourselves, she wanted to take care of you on your relaxing day.

"Pizza?" "Pizza!" you answered, and before you knew it, you were seated in Tony's lap while watching the fourth Harry Potter movie and munching on the pepperoni pizza Tony ordered. The only thing that could make your evening even better was seeing your Munchkins again; luckily you don't have to wait long for that to happen.

Around 8:30 PM, you hear some stumbling. Hudson and Orion are running into the living room, practically lunging themselves onto the couch where you and Tony are cuddling as the fifth Harry Potter movie is just starting.

"Hi, my sweet Munchkins. Did you have fun with Nanna and Jackson today?" Tony asks as he pulls Orion onto his lap for a big hug. Hudson is already curling against your side for his fill of cuddles.

"We did! We went on all the rides, and Gramps bought all three of us a stuffie to bring back," Hudson told both of you, and your gaze shot to Jackson, your Mom's fiancé, as you fought back the tears. This is the first time you heard them call him anything other than Jackson, which genuinely warms your heart.

"Yeah, see? I got Mickey Mouse, Orion got Minnie Mouse, and Paxton got Winnie the Pooh because it matches his sweater," he continues as he shows off his new stuffed animal.

"And have you said thank you to Gramps yet?" you ask them, to which they nodded profusely.

"Good, now you two can prepare for bed because you've had a long day today. I'll be with you to tuck you into bed in 10 minutes, okay?" you tell them, and they nod before getting up and going to the room they're sharing, both ready to go to sleep shortly after.

"And now it's time for some cuddles with my Little One," you sigh happily as you take Paxton from your Mom. He's asleep as you place a soft kiss on his cheek, reveling in the cuteness that is your youngest son. He looks exactly like Tony, making your heart flutter whenever you see it. Now, all you need is a little girl who looks like you and the entire set will be complete.

"How did he do today?" Tony asks as he straightens out Paxton's little sweater.

"Oh, he did amazing! He was delighted to meet some of the characters; he ate like a champ and slept perfectly during nap time as the twins were playing on one of the playgrounds. None of them caused us any trouble at all," Virginia tells you both, and you rest your head on Tony's shoulder as you take in the sight of your son.

It's clear to everyone that the baby fever has officially kicked into full gear for both of you, and there's nothing you have ever wished for more. One more baby will complete your family, and you can't wait to meet them when they're here one day.

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random-thot-generator · 6 months

Text

Better Not to Know

KYLE GAZ GARRICK x FEM READER

Summary: A chance encounter with a handsome stranger in a night club leaves you longing for more.

Warnings/Tags: Explicit language, explicit sexual content, unprotected P in V - fr tho wrap it up ya filthy animals, random hook-up sex, breeding kink?- hmm... yeah, fem breeding kink, a moody touch of angst, some pining, my usual brand of smut, only half-assed proofread- embrace the imperfections, no use of Y/N

(Notes: Just another smut purge with pretty boy Gaz, along with some angst added in for @tiredmetalenthusiast . I didn't forget, I just get easily distracted. Hope you like!)

banners & dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Chaotic, strobing lights and throbbing, hypnotic bass. Dim shadows writhing en masse on the dance floor, a dense forest of waving arms and swaying bodies. There is heat and sweat and sex layered thick in the oppressive air with just a hint of danger to heighten alcohol-dulled senses.

The danger you're seeking lurks at a corner cocktail table on the outskirts of the dance floor. He's somehow managed to sprawl with natural grace over the unwieldy, tall chair, lounging like a king on a throne. One heel is hooked on a rung, the other resting on the floor, his body one long, continuous masculine line that pulls the eye up to a face that's both wicked and angelic. His smile is pure sin, his dark eyes appreciative and knowing.

Oh, yes...

This is what you came here for tonight. To hell with the drinks and dancing and your girls' night out. This is what you really need. This man, this demigod currently eye-fucking you from across the room. A coy smile curls your painted lips as the two of you lock eyes.

Ten minutes later, you're pressed up against the graffitied partition of a bathroom stall, legs wrapped around his surging hips, whimpering as he snaps and grinds them with brutal precision. Your fingers glide over dark skin sheened with sweat, hungry mouth seeking the hot cavern of his as he spears you to the wall with a particularly hard thrust. The rhythmic clink of his belt catches your ear, a lewd accompaniment to your gasping breaths and the constant slap-slap of flesh on flesh. It debaucherous and filthy and you can't get enough.

He stares into your eyes when he tells you to touch yourself, pinning you with a smoldering look that has your cunt clenching in response. Nostrils flare and teeth grit, his strokes growing sharper, deeper, more unhinged with each passing second. He's fucking you with feral abandon, a wild light flashing in his eyes as he nears his release. He's growling, gnashing his teeth, mouth hovering at your neck as he fights the primal urge to bite, to mark, to claim.

"This is mine. My pussy," he snarls at your ear, and holy fuck! That possessive, dark tone in his voice sends your mind reeling, turning you into a desperate, needy, grasping thing. Speaking coherently at this point is out of the question, but you nod your confirmation with dazed enthusiasm. Hell yes, this is his pussy. He can claim it and any bloody thing else he wants, just so long as he doesn't stop fucking you.

"Come for me," he demands in a low, guttural voice, and you do. God help you, you do, like a bitch coming to heel. "Fuck, that's it, pet. Just like that. Bloody fuck—"

The rest of his words catch in his throat, and with one last violent thrust he stills, his entire body tensing, muscles trembling with the strain as his fingers clamp onto your ass and drive you down onto his cock, holding you in place as he empties himself inside you. His cock pulses hard enough to make you moan at the feel of it, your eyes rolling back in your head. You know it's bad form to not use a condom, dead stupid of you both, to be honest, yet you can't deny the truth.

You wanted him this way, raw and real and messy. It's insane, pure unadulterated nonsense, but you relish the feel of his cum inside you. You'll regret this decision come morning when you're slinking into the chemist's shop for a Plan B pill before popping into the clinic to get tested. Right now, though, it's all you can do not to purr in decadent satisfaction.

His kisses are errant, artless things landing haphazardly across your collarbone, your earlobe, your cheek. His lips then cover yours, his tongue unfurling in your mouth to slide over yours in a sensual, intimate coupling, and something inside you blooms warm then spreads out to all your extremities. His nose bumps yours in the sweetest way, and you're enamored with him, just like that.

The bathroom door opens, noise flooding into the quiet space between you. Two drunk girls dawdle at the sink, comparing notes on the blokes they've chatted up, deciding which ones they'll be taking home later. His brown eyes sparkle with barely contained mirth, lips quivering as he holds in his laughter. He's so bloody beautiful. You drop your head to his shoulder, unable to look at him any longer without saying something stupid like, "Come home with me."

You bite your tongue and wait.

The sink runs, the hand dryer blasts, and then the two birds are walking out, leaving the lingering scent of cheap body spray and pink hand soap in the close, heated air. The tap drips, his belt buckle jingles, and the spell is broken. He sighs, placing a chaste peck on your lips, his hands giving your hips a gentle squeeze.

Time's up.

Legs sliding down his muscled flanks, you lock your shaking knees to support you, inner thighs quivering. His cum is a tangible reminder of his claim on your body, as much as the smell of his cologne and sweat on your skin, as much as that poignant, sharp ache in your battered cervix. He fucked you hard and he fucked you well and he made certain that you'd remember him for days to come. What more could you ask of a man like him?

"Ya alright, pet?" he murmurs, his voice so deep and smooth and warm that it raises the fine hairs all over your body. The man is sex personified, a carnal feast that's left you sated but still craving more. You've never been with anyone like him, and it scares you a bit, the effect that he has on you. You were right about him; he's dangerous.

You hum in the affirmative and smile, suddenly feeling shy and awkward. You lower your lashes to hide your confusion, too flustered to speak. You can only imagine what sort of goofy, cock-dumb expression you're wearing. His sigh of satisfaction gusts over your face, the backs of his long fingers brushing over your cheekbone. "So lovely," he mutters, like an inner thought spoken aloud.

Silly cow that you are, his words make your heart flutter.

"I'm fine. More than fine," you finally answer.

You chance a glimpse up into deep brown eyes with striations of amber and copper that catch the dim light. Your gaze drinks him in, flickering over his long, curling lashes and wing-like raven brows. You're melting at the sight of the most sensuous mouth you've ever seen on a man, not to mention a smile so brilliant, it turns you inside out and dumps your heart on the floor. It's only the scar beneath his left eye that detracts from his ethereal, masculine beauty, that proves that he is, in fact, a mere mortal.

"Perfection," you whisper, skimming your thumb over the scar. Your meaning goes for both the man and the sex, but he can take it however he likes.

He fumbles at the latch and opens the stall door, keeping a hand at your lower back as you toddle out on coltish legs. You drift to the mirror to see what the damage is, oddly proud about the mess he's made of you. You swipe the mascara from beneath your eyes and dab away the smear of lipstick at the corner of your mouth. Your hair's a bit of a tangle, but who's going to notice or care at this late stage of the evening?

A tremulous smile appears on your face when he steps in behind you, large hands curling 'round your hips as he presses his full length against your back. His warmth seeps through the thin material of your dress, his mouth hot and wet as it skates up the column of your throat. "You were bloody amazing, love," he breathes at your ear, chuckling, pleased, when you shiver. He gives your bum a light smack that turns into a protracted, possessive squeeze. "Love your arse," he mumbles to himself, then gives his head a shake, stepping away. "I'll, uh, see ya around, yeah?"

"Sure," you husk out, knowing it's all a lie. These soft words and kind glances are nothing more than routine hook-up etiquette— always try to part ways on friendly terms. You know this role by heart, have played out this scenario so many times that you can recite all the inane pleasantries in your sleep.

Only this time, you wish the words were true.

His eyes meet yours in the mirror, his weight shifting between his feet, then he winks and stuns you with another one of those mega-watt smiles. Stepping to the door, he takes hold of the handle but then pauses, his eyes drifting over you one last time. He seems on the verge of saying something, but his beautiful mouth presses into a thin line, the corners turned down. He takes in a long, slow breath then heaves it out with a wistful sigh. "Take care, love."

"You, too."

You offer up a brave smile and hold up a hand in farewell, though a pang of disappointment rings hollow inside your chest as you watch him step through the door and disappear. The racket from the club pours into the room like dirty flood water, and the sudden urge to go after him has you shuffling your feet. Then, with a pneumatic hiss of the closing door, the obnoxious noise is muffled again to a dull and distant roar, and your reason returns.

How pathetic would you have looked, chasing after him like some clingy, lovesick girl. Your fingers tighten on the edge of the sink as you peer into the mirror at your reflection. You're surprised by your forlorn expression and realize you feel a little sad now that he's gone.

Once you return to your seat, you ignore the chatter of your drunk friends, instead panning your eyes over the crowd. You're hoping to spot his familiar silhouette among the anonymous bodies but can't find him, again. He must have left, his mission for the night now complete, you think with a touch of bitterness. No point in sticking around, right?

You fancy that you could pretend he was just a drunken fever dream, nothing more than a figment of your inebriated imagination, if not for the dull ache that still resides deep in your core. Oh, he was real, alright, as real as his cum in your panties and the sore throb of your bruised cunt. You know in your heart of hearts that it will take weeks, maybe even months for his memory to fade. The thought is depressing.

"Think I'm gonna call it a night, ladies," you tell the bleary-eyed trio seated around the table.

Your friends fuss and protest, trying their best to coax you into one more drink or at least another dance, but they're too drunk to really see the state of you. If they were just a little bit sober, it would be more than obvious why you're so set on leaving; you're completely fucked out, decimated, ruined. You hug each of them good night and promise to text the group chat when you arrive home.

Cold air smacks you in the face when you step out of the club. You inhale a sharp, icy breath, fog condensing in front of your eyes as you release it. You can feel the chill wind seeping through the seams of your coat, feel how it settles deep into the marrow of your bones. You suddenly feel achy and tired and near desperate for the warm safety of your own bed.

A glance up and down the sidewalk reveals the lack of waiting taxis, so you pull out your phone and order an Uber, cursing the wait. Huddling deeper inside your coat, your let your thoughts drift back to that brief but memorable encounter in the loo. For once, you regret not getting a bloke's number, and now you can't help but wonder if that's why he paused before leaving. Had he wanted you to ask him for it?

Unfortunately, you'll probably never know.

It's probably for the best, you tell yourself. A handsome bloke like him would undoubtedly complicate your life. He's the type of man that makes a sane, independent woman want to bake cakes and make babies. He is dangerous. You knew it when you first saw him, and now he's proven it to you. Already the 'what-ifs' are rattling about inside your tired brain. It's a good thing he left when he did, otherwise...

Yeah, you're definitely better off not knowing.

Your phone chimes, notifying you that your Uber has arrived, a faded red hatchback pulling up to the curb seconds later. You check the driver's ID then climb into the backseat, sinking back into the cushions as the car pulls back into the light flow of traffic. It irritates you that you still feel that little inkling of sadness. It's such a haunted, lonely feeling.

Damn, you think, staring blindly out of the window. I wish I'd asked for his name.

part 2

#kyle gaz garrick #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #cod gaz x reader #gaz x reader #gaz smut #cod gaz smut #cod smut #cod mw2 #cod mw3

178 notes · View notes

pars-ley · 2 months

Text

Come Alive (part one)

Pairing: Jackson Wang x female reader Summary: A night out with your friends takes a very unexpected turn when a gorgeous, kindhearted stranger offers to pretend to be your boyfriend to ward off unwanted attention. All you can think about is the prospect of what could be…but for him, it’s not that simple. Genre: Fake dating au / strangers to lovers au / heartbreak / series / angst / fluff / smut Rating: 15 (Nsfw-smut in future chapters) Warnings: Making out / mentions of heartbreak / mentions of cheating (not by main characters) / slight stalking or predatory behaviour from non named, small character. W/C: 3.9k Banner: @nixiecreates creating pure perfection. Beta: @flurrys-creativity for being lovely and helpful as always. Notes: I’m back from abyss of life/work/kids and I'm writing again, if anyone still cares. I’m working on more kpop fanfic and going to try to post as regularly as I can. Please, comment and share, it really helps keep the motivation of writing going, thank you for anyone who reads! This is part one of approx five parts.

Feeling unwelcome eyes on you as you move further into the crowd to escape, gives you a knot in the pit of your stomach that pulls tightly on your insides. You try not to but end up glancing back at the man you're attempting to get away from, only to discover your suspicions are correct, he is watching your retreat with annoyance etched across his brow.

Why do some guys find the word ‘no’ such a hard answer to accept?

It's not like you were rude about it, in fact, you went out of your way to be as nice as possible but clearly, it didn't soften the blow.

You head to the bar, figuring you'll be safe for a while if you can talk to the bar staff, and pull out your phone, staring at the same message of "on our way" in your group chat. That was twenty minutes ago and you were still waiting.

Your decision to get ready at work and come from there instead of pre drinking with the girls, now looks like a mistake.

Your gaze travels nervously back to the stranger and your stomach drops at seeing him moving slowly towards you through the crowd. For the love of…

“Can I be of any assistance?” A deep male voice sounds to your right, causing your head to snap over to the figure in the neighbouring bar stool.

You're greeted by a handsome face with perfect features marred with a deep frown, as he nods his head in the persistent strangers direction. “He's making you uncomfortable,” he says matter-of-factly.

You nod, surprised anyone has even noticed, the dancefloor of the club was very busy.

“You can say that again.” You respond before ordering another drink. “Is he still heading this way?” You ask, afraid to look for yourself.

You watch the handsome stranger’s face explore the crowd, eyes scanning faces but you know when he's found him by the way darkness sweeps across his features. “He seems to be assessing the situation, just a short distance away.”

You sigh and take a long sip of your drink. “In that case, can you pretend we know each other? Then he might just decide to leave me alone.”

His responding smile is dazzling and has your mouth stretching up in a mirroring grin.

“Not a problem, just go with me ok?” He says, as he slides your bar stool towards him, so your knees are in between his legs. “If you feel uncomfortable with anything I do, at any point, just say the word and I'll stop.” He says, leaning into your ear. “Now,” he pulls back slightly and tucks your hair behind your ear, in such a gentle manner you barely feel it, “firstly, i'm Jackson.”

His fingers softly trail down the length of your arm sending a shiver down your spine that you find yourself relishing in, rather than shying away from this complete stranger. There's oddly something comforting and wholesome about him.

“Secondly, how do you want to play this?” His hand comes to rest lightly on your thigh and when your eyes go from that to his face, your gaze locks and you can't look away. Focused on his brown eyes and how intense they stare back at you, you note a hint of sadness in them that he's trying to conceal and wonder what's the cause.

You frown trying to understand the question he's just asked and what he means and when his mouth pulls up in a smile your eyes follow the movement.

“In the instances I've seen, men like this back off faster if they think you're with a boyfriend or love interest?” He watches you carefully, assessing your reaction.

You swallow, his scent swirling around you, like fresh linen with an underline of sweetness, is making it hard to focus, especially when the heat from his hand still on your leg is radiating through your body.

“Yes,” you clear your throat and shift in your seat, “fine with me.”

“Like I said, at any point you're not comfortable, just say the word and I'll stop, ok?”

You nod, “got it.”

With a wide eyed smile, he takes your hand and entwines his fingers with yours, his thumb rubbing soft circles on your wrist.

“Thank you,” you say, leaning into him slightly as you settle into your new role. “I'm waiting for my friends but they're late.”

He smiles and pushes the hair off your shoulder as he leans into your ear. “Happy to be of service, there are much worse things than pretending to be a beautiful stranger's boyfriend.”

Your cheeks grow hot at his words and you're thankful that he can't see from his position.

“And why are you here drinking alone?” You attempt to deflect the focus from yourself, wanting to know more about him but you're aware of how his body stiffens at the question, only briefly, before relaxing again as he leans back away from you slightly. “Ah,” he sighs, “I'm attempting to ease the pain of heartbreak by drinking myself into oblivion.” His eyes avoid yours but you catch the raw emotion in them before they do.

“I'm so sorry,” you comfortingly squeeze the hand he still holds of yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He brings your fingers to his mouth and kisses them, you’re mesmerised by how soft his lips are against your skin, not to mention how tender the action is.

He smiles but it doesn't reach his eyes, doesn't even come close. “Pretty clichéd stuff, I don't want to bore you with it.”

You hook a knuckle under his chin and tilt his head up, until he meets your gaze again. “Try me.”

His face visibly softens, eyebrows knitted together in anguish, he looks torn as unsure whether to share his story or if he should continue acting out your pretence. “I, er, found my girlfriend sleeping with one of my best friends.” He shrugs and shakes his head as if trying to push away the image. “I've now lost two people I cared deeply about and to be honest, I feel kind of baffled right now.”

You sit and watch as he surveys the crowd, clearly trying to distract himself from the pain. Your heart actually hurts for him. Here he was, so hurt and yet still trying to help you out and make your evening better.

“I know it's easy to say but I've been there, it does get easier.” You give him a reassuring smile, “and it may not help much right now, but it sounds to me like they're the ones who have lost something, not you.”

His face softens and his lips twitch up into a slight smile. “I appreciate that.”

Peeling your eyes away from him for the first time since you began your conversation, you take a large sip of your drink and relish the sweetness as it goes down.

Jackson looks over in the direction of the other guy. “He is persistent, isn't he?” It was clearly his turn to change the subject.

Rolling your eyes you shift closer to Jackson. “How do you feel about giving him a bit of a show?”

His eyebrow arches as he turns his head slowly back in your direction. “What did you have in mind?”

“Kiss me. I'm sure he'll get the hint then.”

You see something flash in Jackson's eyes but before you can recognise what it is, it's gone as quick as it appeared. “You sure?”

Feeling yourself smiling shyly, you look up at him through your lashes, “absolutely. Only if you're comfortable with it, of course?”

“Definitely.” He whispers, standing from his stool and nudging your knees apart slightly to get closer. As he towers above you, his hands come up and gently cup either side of your jaw, arching your face up towards him, he leans down but pauses merely inches away, “you never told me your name.”

His breath tickling your skin only draws you in more.

“Y/n,” you reply almost breathlessly, as your heart gallops like a horse on a race track, eager to get to the finish line.

He smiles sweetly. “Nice to meet you, y/n.”

You take note of his blown out pupils and know, judging by the throbbing from between your legs, yours surely matches his. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and all you can do is watch as his head tilts slightly and he begins to close the space between you. His unbearably slow manoeuvre is deliberate but you grow impatient to know what his lips feel like against yours and before you register the movement, you’re grabbing his shirt and pulling him against you.

His soft lips crash against yours and you hear his small, surprised moan as his hand suddenly finds the base of your neck, keeping you in place as he slots himself between your legs.

Behind your closed lids, all you can see is a cloudy red as heat and lust bloom inside you, sending a flush across your skin you've not experienced before. It awakens a hunger inside you that is very unexpected. The noise around you disappears as you're acutely aware of your heart pounding in your ears. The feel of your blood rushing through your veins, making your body throb with excitement, nerves raw with want. It had been a long time since you'd kissed a stranger, and a longer time since you'd let your defences down and given into a base desire.

His hand entwines with yours before pulling you up on your feet, hearing the screech of the bar stool as it’s pushed away from you before he turns your body to the bar and cages you in, pressing his hard body against you. Your mouth devours him hungrily and when your tongue reaches out tentatively, he welcomes you in.

He tastes sweet and woody with a hint of spice, making you wonder what he was drinking but unable to focus on much apart from the sensual way he’s kissing you, slow, intentional and yet, intensely urgent.

Your mouths dance together, perfectly in sync in their own private serenade, with your hands exploring and finding their way up around his neck, fingers gripped into his hair to keep him close to you. When he moans into your mouth, you almost lose all composure as you break apart to take a breath and take control by spinning and shoving him against the bar. He arches an eyebrow in surprise as you feel his hand snake around your waist, pulling you back against him. His fingers dig into your back keeping you firmly in place, not that you want to move anywhere else at this moment.

His scent swirls around you, sweeping you up and carrying you away, an absolute hurricane for your senses. Just when it all feels too much and when you're squeezing your thighs together for some semblance of relief, he pulls away, leaving you gasping and full of want.

He pants, breath fanning out over your face as your bodies still remain flush against each other.

The silence between you is so thick you could almost slice it with a blade. Something in your eyes reflects in his, where you both seem to revel in the sudden sexual tension between you. He remains clinging to you and the radiating heat of his body muddles your thoughts and leaves you wanting nothing more than to melt further into his embrace. This feeling between you is nothing like you were used to, passionate beyond belief. How can a stranger have you feeling this way? All you know is his name, and yet, there was something so comforting about him, so familiar.

His thumb strokes along your jaw as his mouth pulls into a smile, the action; so gentle it makes you want to lean into it but you resist.

“Wow.” He finally breaks the silence with a husky whisper.

“Wow.” You repeat, still shocked at your body's reaction to him.

You clear your throat, an attempt to also clear your hazy head and bring yourself back down to earth.

Jackson's gaze flutters begrudgingly away from you. “It worked,” he says, returning his dark eyes to you, holding your neck and studying your face like you were the Mona Lisa. “He's gone.”

If you were honest, you no longer care about the man in question, he is nothing but a tiny speck on your radar, ready to be flicked away, as if he were nothing better than a microscopic bug on a windshield. Jackson, however, is the beautiful sunset view stretched out in front of you.

Your phone vibrating in your jeans pocket makes you jump, snapping you out of whatever trance you'd been in, as you scramble to answer it, recognising one of your friends on the caller id.

“Sorry,” you say to him, as your body suddenly feels cold without him pressed against you.

He smiles but gives you the room you need.

“Hello, Jennie?”

“Babe, I'm so sorry.” You hear over the line, apology evident in her tone.

“Don't worry about it, but where the fuck are you guys?”

There's a pause long enough you have to check you still have reception, you put your finger in your other ear. “Jennie?”

“Didn't you get my messages? We're not coming.”

You pull your phone away from your ear and see you have seven unread messages from her, letting out an audible groan, you return the phone to your ear. “Why? What happened?”

“Rose and Lisa both have that stomach thing that's been going around, they're here at my place…throwing up, Jisoo turned up and fled the scene as soon as she could, not that i blame her.”

You grimace, that does not sound fun, or like anything you want to be a part of. “Ok,” you sigh, attempting to get your head on straight, “do you need anything?”

“A hazmat suit?” She laughs and you can't help but do the same, even if her night has definitely turned out worse than yours.

You notice Jackson glance at you, hearing a one sided conversation but clearly trying not to listen in.

“Na, I'm good, girl. I'm so sorry about tonight, will you be ok getting home?”

You roll your eyes, “I'm a grown woman, I think I can manage to get a cab by myself.”

You hear an amused breath down the phone.

“I'll call you tomorrow, ok?” You say. “Let me know if you need me to swing by at all.”

“No, go on without me, save yourself…,” her voice gets quieter as she hangs up, making you giggle.

“Everything ok?” Jackson asks, genuine concern furrowing his brow.

You sigh, returning to your stool at the bar, “I got stood up.”

He frowns and joins you, taking his seat. “By your friends?”

You nod, unsure whether you want to go home just yet or get to know Jackson a bit more. “Two of them have got some kind of bug.”

There’s a moment of pensive silence between you.

“Before I spotted you,” he starts, “I was about to leave, I'd been staring into an empty glass long enough.”

You take note of the sudden sadness in his tone and your heart strings tug in his direction.

“If you're ready to go, we can share a cab, if you like?” He asks, seeming somewhat hesitant, amusing seeing as he had his tongue down your throat only a moment ago.

“Sure, that would be great.”

You can't help the disappointment you feel settling into the pit of your stomach, clearly not ready to cut the night short with him but, understanding in his current heartbreak state, it may not be the best time.

He grabs his jacket from the chair, draping it over his arm, then pulls out his phone and books a taxi on his app. “Should be here in seven minutes. Shall we head out?”

Nodding, you take the hand he offers you and let him lead you out through the compact crowd on the dancefloor.

The cold night air hits you, a stark contrast to the heat you felt inside, and you feel foolish for not bringing a jacket, forgetting how cool the night air can be.

A shiver runs through you, as you fold your arms across your chest at an attempt to stave off the chill. Jackson must notice, as something caresses your shoulders and when you look down, his jacket is draped around you.

“No, no, it's ok–”

“I'm afraid I have to insist,” he cuts you off with a challenging smirk and you relent, pulling the thick material around you.

“Thank you,” you reply quietly, as you both walk slowly to the corner of the next road, away from the main entrance of the club.

“So what do you do in your spare time, aside from playing the part of ‘knight in shining armour’?” You ask, into the sudden awkward silence.

His responding laugh lights up the darkness of the night, coupled with a smile so bright that even the sun must envy him.

“That's not a title I've had before.” He glances at you shyly, a faint blush colouring his cheeks. “You want the run down of me huh?”

You nod encouragingly.

“Ok, well, I have a lot of active hobbies, I go running almost everyday, rock climbing at the weekends, I love basketball and I did fencing as a child so I occasionally dip a toe back into it. Aside from that, I play piano and write music, I can speak four languages, I’m allergic to cats, I really hate spicy food, I have an older brother and I work for a fashion company.”

He shrugs at the end like none of it was the slightest bit impressive as you try to process the information.

“You speak four languages?” You ask, unable to hide the shock.

He nods and smiles bashfully. “I mean, yeah, I guess so.”

“How? One is hard enough but four, you’re just gluten for punishment really.”

He laughs again. “Hey, I didn’t say I didn’t find it hard, I guess I'm just very determined.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you pause when you come to the corner and perch on the wall of one of the buildings, the cold stone through your jeans causes you to shiver.

“Your turn.” He takes a seat next to you, watching your face, awaiting your response.

You pause, thinking if you had anything as interesting as that to tell him, feeling slightly embarrassed by your dull life. “Well, I'm not as interesting as you but, I too go running a few times a week and I go to yoga class twice a week, that’s all the physical activity I partake in. I work for an animation studio, which is my dream job and I love it there. I also have an older brother, who annoys the hell out of me but he’s my favourite person in the whole world, although I'd die if he ever found that out.” You both laugh and you can’t help but notice the genuine interest twinkling in his eyes as you talk. “I love lazy sundays of sleeping in, reading and ordering take out. Going out for breakfast is my favourite weekend activity and I’m a sucker for a dessert. I'll choose sweet over savoury every day of the week.”

He opens his mouth to speak but the taxi honking his horn as he arrives in front of you, makes you both jump and steals your attention.

Jackson holds the door open for you and you slide in along the leather seats. Inside it smells of perfume, alcohol and take away, you waste no time opening the window on your side as he climbs in next to you. You tell the driver your address as you're the first drop off and your short journey begins.

“That's quite a statement,” Jackson says over the quiet music on the radio, brow heavy with confusion. “Sweet over savoury?”

“There's not a doubt in my mind about it,” you reiterate, “desserts are the queens of meals.”

“But what about starters?”

You shrug. “I think they're overrated.”

His mouth pops open as he stares at you, the action so comical you can't help but erupt with laughter.

“Listen, I could take you to a dessert place that would literally change your life, and I can guarantee you'd move over to my way of thinking.”

He raises a brow. “I love your confidence. I just might have to accept that challenge.”

Your stomach flips at the prospect of seeing him again as you try to quell the excitement blooming inside you. “Well, you better get ready to lose.” You poke your tongue out at him and do not fail to notice the way his eyes travel hungrily to the action but before either of you have a chance to act on it, the car pulls to a stop.

“I think this is you,” Jackson says, getting out of the car and rushing around to open your door. You take the hand he holds out to you and let him pull you gently from the cab. When you’re upright you realise then how close your bodies are once again, basking in the heat from his body and definitely no longer needing the jacket. You tilt your head up to him and your eyes connect in a heated, yet hesitant stare. His hands linger at your hips, suddenly unsure where the boundary is.

“Thank you, for tonight,” you say quietly, every movement seeming so loud outside your apartment building.

“It was my pleasure.” He smirks and the way your core clenches has you releasing a shaky breath. “Thank you, for taking my mind off things tonight. You proved there is enjoyment after heartbreak, I've barely thought about my ex whilst in your company.”

Your mouth turns up in a smile before you can try and stop it. “I'm happy to oblige any time.”

He opens his mouth but closes it again, eyes still focused on yours but glazed with conflict. “I know the timing isn't great, but would you maybe want to have dinner…or dessert sometime?”

You laugh at the conversation in the cab. Your heart swells in your chest and you take a breath to quell your excitement. “If I give you my number, then you can message me when you're ready, how about that?”

He nods, features soft, kind eyes sweeping over your face as he hands you his phone. This man is so intense, you find it hard to focus on anything, even breathing feels like a struggle when his gaze is on you. You type in your number and save it, before handing it back. He leans in and for a second you prepare yourself for another wild, steamy kiss, but instead his lips meet your cheek in a gentle caress, a featherlight touch that has you wanting more but understanding it's not the right time for him.

You smile and walk over to your building, turning to have one last look at him as you pass the threshold and only regretting it with how devastatingly handsome he looks leaning up against the car, watching and waiting for you to get home safely. As he waves and gives you one last smile so sexy you bite your lips as you watch the door close, separating the two of you and ending your surprising night with him.

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melodygatesauthor · 1 year

Text

The Best Kept Secrets - Marc's Story

dbf!Marc Spector X f!Reader

Not Beta Read - Masterlist - AO3 Link

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

Steven's Story - Jake's Story

Summary:

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

Tags/Warnings (for all three fics):

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

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

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

“Hi dad.” You choked out.

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

“Long,” you said with a tired laugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Has he been working out?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Marc Spector

The Home In-Spector

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

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

“Yeah…you too.”

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

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

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

Closed again.

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

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

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

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

“Marc,” you said softly.

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

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

“Don’t go, please.”

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

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

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

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

“A long time,” you lied.

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

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

“No, no.”

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

----

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

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

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

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

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

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

----

For two weeks you fought off thoughts about your dad’s best friend. You tried so hard not to think about the way his arms felt carrying you up to bed the other night; so hard not to think about the way he smelled when you had your face buried in his neck; you tried so fucking hard not to think about the way his fingers felt brushing over your clit while he kissed you so passionately.

You were surprised when your father left for work and only a couple of hours later, Marc arrived. You didn’t know he was there, and nearly screamed when you heard him whistling downstairs as you were stepping out of the shower. You peered out the window and saw his truck with his company logo on the side. You let out a sigh of relief, realizing that there wasn’t a burglar in your home, but that initial fear was quickly replaced with an anxiety that you couldn’t shake. The only thing you could think about was how badly you wanted to feel his lips on yours again.

After you changed into your shorts and a tanktop, you decided to make your way downstairs to see why he was there in the first place. Marc was laying under the sink, cabinet doors open on either side of him. You couldn’t help but notice the way his biceps flexed under the tight t-shirt he wore, and the dark trail of hair that disappeared under the waist of his pants on his exposed abdomen.

“Marc.” You said gently, as though hearing your voice any volume higher might send him into a rage.

He froze, letting out an exasperated sigh that split through the room. He clanked some of his tools and grunted as he sat up to look at you. He held a furrowed brow, daring you to say something about the night you shared two weeks ago; daring you to bring the memory of that deep shame back to the forefront of his mind. You found yourself having a hard time speaking all of a sudden.

“Look, your dad asked me to come by and fix a few things, just stay out of my way and–”

“M-my air conditioner isn’t working and I was hoping you could take a look at it.” You spat your words out so fast you weren’t sure if he would even be able to understand you.

There was, of course, nothing wrong with your air conditioner, but you wanted to get Marc in your room, alone again, if only for a second. He stood up, aggravation still apparent in his furrowed brow.

“Your ac is broken?” He crossed his arms over his chest, “what’s wrong with it?”

“I don’t know, isn’t that your job? I just need you to look at it.”

He grabbed his toolbelt off the ground and followed you up the stairs with a look that told you he was unimpressed, and hardly believed that you needed him to actually fix something. When you got to your room, he went to the window where your perfectly functioning air conditioner sat, and you silently latched the door behind yourself. You felt it getting harder to breathe.

He turned the air conditioner on to test it, learning immediately that he’d been tricked into going up there. He turned slowly, brow furrowed in frustration. Despite his obvious aggravation, you noticed the quick shift of his eyes taking in your frame before looking back at your face. He crossed his arms tightly, scowling at you.

“The hell are you trying to pull huh?” His accent came out in his peeved tone. He walked up to you, but you stayed firmly in front of the door. “Move.”

You looked up at him, “Marc please, I can’t stop thinking about you since we kissed.”

He grabbed your shoulders roughly and you thought he might slot his lips over yours in a flurry of breathless kisses, but he didn’t. Instead he turned to scolding you as though you were a child, which only served to piss you off.

“It was a drunk mistake that never should’ve happened. I let it go, you should too,” his voice was low and harsh.

It was crushing to hear that he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought, though it wasn’t exactly a surprise. You weren’t sure what you’d expected. Marc was always trying to do what he considered to be the right thing, and now was no different. You were his best friend’s daughter. Of course he wasn’t going to do anything with you. But when you looked over at his flexing biceps on either side of you, and felt the strength in the way his hands held onto your shoulders, you couldn’t help the way you wanted him.

“I can’t. I…I think about you almost every night.”

There was another cold silence, save for the hum of the air conditioner that was still working exceptionally well. You weren’t normally so forward, but it was true. Despite your attempts to not think about him since your encounter, you’d failed. Most nights since then were spent with your fingers two knuckles deep in your soaking wet cunt, thinking about all the ways you wanted Marc to take you under your father’s roof.

“You’re stupid you know that? Just stop, you’re my friend’s kid. He know you act like this? Huh?”

If his tone wasn’t evidence enough that he was through with the conversation, his actions were. Marc moved you aside by force and then made a quick escape from your house. He hadn’t even finished working on the sink downstairs. You wondered if Marc was going to tell your dad about your conversation that day, but when your dad got home that night, he never said a word about it. You tried to move on, despite the ache in your chest.

----

You wondered if Marc would ever come back to your house again, until your dad was on his way out the door for work and told you he was coming back to finish the sink. Your cheeks grew hot immediately when you thought about it. Your dad left, and you rushed around getting ready for Marc to show up. You knew he’d told you to back off, but thoughts of him continued to plague your mind and you couldn’t seem to help yourself.

What the hell am I gonna wear, you asked yourself.

It was foolish to think about what you were going to wear in a silly attempt at seducing your dad’s best friend. You couldn’t even begin to understand why you were attempting to seduce your dad’s best friend. It was obvious that he didn’t want you, he’d pushed you out of the way the other day. That didn’t stop you from wondering what it would feel like to brush your lips over the soft skin of his throat again. It didn’t stop you from thinking about what his thick fingers would feel like stretching out your pussy while you dug your nails into his toned shoulders.

When he finally arrived, you waited to make sure he was working before you went downstairs. You were silent, knowing that alerting him to your presence might make him run off. You’d chosen to wear a short little skirt, a tank-top, and you opted out of your bra and panties. You needed to make it as easy as you could for him to take what he wanted from you. Despite the way he pushed you away, you knew he wanted you.

He was working hard, twisting a wrench around one of the pipes. His arm obstructed his view so he didn’t see you coming. Without a word, and without his knowing, you walked over to him, standing on either side of his thighs. He noticed you when you dropped to your knees, straddling him. He looked at you with that signatured furrowed brow.

“What the…you’re starting to be a real fuckin’ problem, you know that?” His voice was dark and threatening.

“Am I?” You asked in a coy tone, dragging your cunt over his crotch, feeling the brush of the denim against your clit.

He sat up fast, and you thought he might shove you off of him, but he didn’t. Instead, his hand grabbed your hip firmly. You gasped when his face got close to yours, eyes narrowed and wracked with guilt. His nose brushed against yours. You felt your hips involuntarily rock against the growing bulge behind his jeans.

“What’s it gonna take for you to let this go, huh?” He used one hand to push your skirt back while the other slid up your inner thigh. “What’s it gonna take for you to stop this shit?”

You put both of your hands on his shoulders for stability. His fingers found your folds and you felt your entire body surge with desire. Marc’s chest rumbled when he leaned in to steal your moans in a mess of deep kisses. His grasp on your thigh was so tight it left divots in your skin. He pulled you forward, sliding his middle finger deep into your channel.

“Fuck, I get you that worked up?” He said against your lips.

You hummed an affirmative into his mouth. He slid another finger in, and already you felt the delicious stretch of his thick digits testing your hole. It was a tight fit, two that is, and it felt better than you could’ve dreamed. If you’d known it was going to be like this, you might’ve been more persistent when he came up to your room the week before. He curved them, touching that sweet spot that made you whine in response.

“Where are all the boys your age? Why aren’t you going after them, hm? You like pissing me off?”

You didn’t want to answer him, because the truth was stupid. You didn’t care about the “boys your age”. Most of them wouldn’t know their way around a pussy if you had an arrow pointing to all the important parts for them. They also didn’t know you like Marc did. Marc was there to talk to you on the late nights after a family barbecue when you couldn’t sleep and your dad was already in bed. He was there to judge your prom date with a threatening glare if the guy ever tried to hurt you, and he was there when you left for college, making sure you knew how to properly use your pepper spray keychain.

He was there for you now when you were wet and dripping down his wrist while moaning one desperately hungry kiss after another over his lips. The third finger hurt a little, but the ache of the burn became more bearable the more he worked in and out of you. Marc brought his face to your throat, leaving soft kisses there that had your cunt fluttering over his thick fingers.

“M-Marc I’m…I’m so close I–”

“Sh, just shut up. Don’t want to hear it.”

You didn’t know if it was the guilt causing him to act so cruel, but it didn’t matter to you at that moment. You were there, seconds from sweet release, but the beep of a car door locking froze you both to your core. Marc pulled his hand from you, leaving you feeling empty. You stood fast and ran up the stairs quickly, leaving Marc down there to deal with your father. You felt bad, but knew he could handle it.

When you got to your room, you could hear them start talking downstairs.

“Hey Marc!” Your dad said as he walked in, “how’s it coming?”

You heard Marc huff out a laugh, “it’s not.”

----

It would be a lie to say you weren’t thrilled at the prospect of Marc coming by to check on you while your dad was out of town for the week. You wondered if he was excited too, or if he wished that he’d never met your dad now that things had become more complicated between the two of you. Complicated wasn’t even the right word for it, it wasn’t like this was something you did regularly. You hadn’t even seen him since he fingered you by the sink two weeks ago. He seemed to be limiting his time spent at your house those days.

You understood, you weren’t stupid, but at the same time it didn’t change how badly you wanted to see him again. In fact, most days, he was all you thought about. Something about him was intoxicating. Maybe it was the danger of getting caught? Or perhaps it was the thrill of something new? It could also be the fact that he was older, and you had a feeling he knew exactly how to make you come undone like no one ever had before.

When he finally showed up, it was after dinner. You were sitting on the couch watching some crappy movie about five guys taking down a Columbian drug lord. You paused the movie and turned around to see him standing there. He ran his hand over his face and crossed his arms over his chest. You felt your heart rate picking up.

“I’m just here to check in on you, I don’t want any funny business.” He said firmly.

You gulped, and nodded, “okay, yeah that’s…I understand.”

He dropped his hands to his pockets. You watched his entire body relax before your eyes. While you understood that he didn’t want to continue the little thing you two had going on, it didn’t change the fact that you still wanted him, badly. Marc’s face looked irritated, nothing new there, but there was a mild softness to his brow.

“Well, I’m just watching this dumb movie…do you wanna watch with me?” You gestured to the other side of the couch.

Marc sighed before nodding and walking over to sit as far from you as possible on the other side of the couch. You pressed play and sat in silence for some time. Just being in his presence was making your mind buzz. You couldn’t stop replaying him fingering you by the sink on repeat in your head. When you looked over at him, his eyes were trained on the television, not because he was interested, no, it was painfully clear that he was trying to avoid eye contact with you. You couldn’t sit there anymore. The ache between your legs was growing and if you didn’t go take care of it, you were going to do something to upset him.

“I have to use the bathroom, you don’t need to pause, I'll be right back.”

You went upstairs and closed the bathroom door behind yourself. You knew it would be suspicious if you spent too much time in there, but at the very least you needed to clean yourself up. You were soaked, so wet that you probably left a mark on the couch downstairs and you didn’t know what to do. What if he saw it? Surely he’d be upset if he thought you might be thinking about him again.

When you were finished wiping up, you opened the door. You were fully prepared to go down there and tell him to leave, but you didn’t make it that far. He was standing right outside the bathroom door, eyes looking you over like he might devour you.

“Marc I–”

He stole your next words when he slotted his lips over yours. Your mind went blank, focusing only on the way his tongue tasted when it entangled with yours. His hands grabbed your shoulders, sliding down until he found purchase on your hips. A soft moan slipped through your lips while you brought your hands to the waistband of his pants. You weren’t going to beat around the bush this time, you knew exactly what you wanted and you intended to take it.

You brushed your fingers over his pubic hair, relishing the way it felt against your skin. Marc lifted you by your rear, and you were forced to grab his broad shoulders for stability. He carried you to your room and gently laid you down on the bed, never disconnecting his lips from yours. Marc started grinding his hips against you, the hard prod of his erection apparent through his jeans.

“This what you wanted from me?” He looked at you with a combination of anger, guilt, and lust, “think you can even handle it?”

You whined, “yes, I need it, please Marc.”

In a blur, you and Marc got your clothes off so your bare chests were against each other. His skin was deceptively soft. The feeling of his thick cock gliding over your inner thigh was maddening. You arched your back upward and brought your hands around the base of Marc’s neck. He used both of his hands to pin your wrists down above your head.

“You turned out to be such a fuckin’ brat you know that?” He was almost growling out his words.

“Guess you’ll have to put me in my place-OH SHIT!”

Marc thrust himself into you and buried his face in your neck. You weren’t quiet while he moved at an unforgiving pace. His lips dragged over your throat, leaving soft kisses in their wake. The juxtaposition of between his harsh fucking and tender kissing was making your mind go blank. Everything he did felt so good, better than you could’ve imagined. You still couldn’t believe this was actually happening.

“Marc-feels so good fuck-yes!” You shouted through gritted teeth.

“Yeah, I bet it does honey, bet it feels really fucking good. You happy now? You glad you got me to fuck you? Hm?!”

Marc was taking his guilty conscience out on you. He picked his head up and looked down at you, grabbing your jaw tightly in his hand. You whimpered at his firm grip, but you were enjoying the way he manhandled you. His lips were pulled together in a thin line while he huffed in tandem with his thrusts. A few stray hairs fell down from their normally slicked back place and into his eyes. Fuck he’s so pretty.

“Yeah, I am,” you taunted, knowing it would only serve to piss him off even more. “Are you really going to act like-oh shit-like it doesn’t feel good? You make me so wet-fuck!”

He was slamming your bed against the wall with how hard he would pull back and then snap his hips forward into you. You were writhing underneath him from the sensations all over your body, but you couldn’t move your arms still. He went back to sucking on your neck, and you were surprised when his hands slid off of your wrists and moved to intertwine your fingers in his.

Marc was being intimate with you.

Just when you thought it couldn’t feel any better, he was starting to nuzzle his nose behind your ear, taking a deep breath and inhaling your scent. His movements slowed to a more even pace, as though he were trying to savor every delicious movement, rather than fuck the guilt away. You turned your head to the side, meeting with Marc’s lusty and hooded gaze. Electricity sparked in your stomach at the sight of him.

“Marc–”

He started kissing you again, as though the sound of your voice was going to cause him harm if he had to hear you speak any longer. You wondered if it reminded him of who he was sleeping with. You didn’t care that he was your dad’s best friend anymore, you hadn’t for a while. Nothing had ever felt so good in every way. His hands squeezed around you tighter, and you heard him start moaning louder into you.

“Gonna fill your little pussy up baby, then we’ll see how mouthy you are.”

You couldn’t speak as your climax approached faster than you’d anticipated. All you could do was let your eyes roll back and your body melt into the bed. You felt your cunt squeezing around his thick cock as he filled you with his hot spend. Fuck he sounds so good. He was moaning deep rasps into your ear while he fucked his cum into you.

When his thrusts finally slowed and you were both a sated and panting mess, he pulled out of you. You mumbled about the towel on your dresser that he used to clean himself off and then toss to you. You wiped yourself up and then slowly stood, starting to change into your clothes.

“You can stay,” you said to Marc, hoping that he wasn’t going to just fuck you and leave, but you knew better.

Marc finished getting dressed and then he looked at you, brows furrowed and guilt etched into every pore on his face. You knew that he was going to say no, so when the words left his lips you weren’t surprised. That didn’t change the disappointment that you took with you downstairs while saying goodbye.

“We can’t do this again,” Marc said coldly in the doorway, “it’s done…alright?”

You nodded sullenly. He nodded in return and left. You were alone again.

You weren’t sure why it made you emotional to hear him say the words ‘it’s done…alright?’, but you felt a pit in your stomach. Was it because he’d been so intimate with you not ten minutes ago? Was it because he made you feel like no one else ever had? Perhaps it was a combination of both. Either way, you spent the evening finishing that terrible movie with your face buried in a box of tissues, just begging for sleep to take you away from your overwhelming feelings.

----

You didn’t see Marc again for three weeks. So much happened in three weeks and you were determined to act normal when you saw him again after that time had passed. When your dad had told you he was coming over for dinner, you froze. It had been a while since you and Marc had been in the same room, and even longer since you’d been in the same room together with your father present. The pit in your stomach was already forming.

Your phone buzzed on the counter and you picked it up. Joey, the guy you’d met last week at the local coffee shop was asking if you were still on for tomorrow night. You replied, ‘yes’, and then put your phone in your pocket. As hard as it was, going out with someone else was a necessary step in getting things back to normal. What were you holding out for anyway? For Marc to come in and sweep you off your feet? To tell your dad that he’d been sleeping with you and that you were going to be together now? Maybe if you both had a death wish, that would be a perfect plan.

When he walked into the house, burgundy shirt hugging his chest a little too tight for your sanity, you felt your breath hitch in your throat. He was still so handsome. It’s not like you expected that to change, but you’d hoped that maybe you would’ve stopped mentally putting him on a pedestal by now so you could move on. But you didn’t, and you couldn’t.

“Hey, Marc.” You said softly as he made his way to the dining room.

“Hey.” He actually looked at you this time, as if he wasn’t going to burn alive by meeting your gaze.

The heat rose to your cheeks in a rush, making you feel lightheaded. You sat down at the table and both Marc and your father joined. The small talk was just what you needed; your dad asking Marc how business was going and Marc asking you about your job hunt. Marc was making a career out of drinking his wine. If anything was a sign of his nervousness it was that. You were glad that you weren’t the only one feeling the awkward weight in the air.

“So, why don’t you tell Marc about…you know,” your dad gave you a knowing look.

You shifted nervously, “um, well…” you looked into Marc’s dark brown eyes. His brow was knitted together tightly, “I’m going on a date tomorrow with a guy I met at the coffee shop up the road.”

You swigged your own wine down in one gulp. It was quiet except for the ticking clock above the archway to the kitchen. Your silverware clanked on the plate while you poked the lettuce from your salad. You looked back up at Marc.

“You like this guy?” Marc finally asked, never taking his gaze off of you.

“I don’t know,” you tried to sound indifferent, “only talked to him a couple of times.”

Marc paused before responding, “good…it will be good for you to find someone you can spend time with.”

This conversation wasn’t about you and Joey.

“Yes…and someone who isn’t going to just take advantage of me,” you stabbed your fork into your food harshly.

“Oh definitely,” he sounded sarcastic, “and make sure you’re careful with what you wear and how you act, some guys your age might get the wrong idea about the kind of girl you are.”

Asshole.

“He’s right, you know.” Your dad chimed in, seemingly oblivious to the private conversation you and Marc were having right under his nose.

“So are you saying I dress like a slut?” You stared at him, waiting to see how he planned to answer that one.

“Alright now you’re just acting like a brat, I never said–”

“Who wants more wine?” You asked, getting up and going to the kitchen and trying to end the awkward back and forth that you, admittedly, started.

The glasses of wine were filled while you and Marc continued your eternal staredown that your dad seemed oblivious to. You both guzzled down three more glasses each while your father and he entertained more small talk. When dinner concluded, he got up and went outside to start putting together a fire, and your dad asked you to do the dishes and join them when you were finished.

You did the dishes, but you didn’t join them. You told your dad you weren’t feeling well and instead retreated to your room. The last thing you wanted to do was continue the awkwardness that transpired at the dinner table. You thought that would be the end of it, that Marc would’ve had enough of your attitude and never want to speak to you again.

You were wrong.

Your father had gone to bed almost a half hour before you heard Marc working his way upstairs. You thought for sure he would walk right by your room and go to the guest room, but he didn’t. Marc twisted your door handle and walked in, closing the door quickly while he stepped inside. You sat up and looked at him quizzically, rubbing the fatigue from your eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked.

Marc sat down next to you, leaning over so his face was close. You could smell the alcohol on his breath. He reached a hand up to cup your cheek, you felt him pulling you closer.

“You know exactly what I’m doing in here,” he said in a low whisper.

Of course you did. His lips were soft and tasting of liquor when he pressed them to yours. His tongue tasted even more like alcohol, but you didn’t mind. Whether it was the intoxication, or maybe he was just more comfortable with you now, his tongue felt soft while it melted against yours.

“So you have a date? Hm?” Marc looked at you, eyes dark and brow furrowed.

So that’s what this was about.

You nodded, “mhm.”

“He can’t do for you what I can do honey.” He dropped his hand from your cheek and rested it on your waist. He kissed your neck right by your ear and said, “I know just what you like.”

“I can go on a date with him…in public.” A breathy moan escaped your lips as he sucked on your skin more.

He stopped and looked at you again, “that’s not fair.”

“Nope it’s not.”

“I could take you out if–”

“But you can’t so–”

“-so, he can’t make you feel the way–”

“Maybe he can–”

“Shut the hell up.” Marc’s mouth covered yours, rendering you silent save for the moans escaping you.

He slid you forward so you were laying down and then pulled your covers off your body. That’s when he noticed that you were in nothing but a t-shirt and your underwear. His mouth closed over yours, and his hand trekked over your lower abdomen and tucked into the hem of your panties. You felt the pad of his thick middle finger brush against your clit. You could hear the wet sound it made when he started circling there.

“You’re such a little brat, you know that?” He was so breathless.

“I know,” you said just above a whisper. You arched your cunt toward him, chasing the feeling his fingers gave you .”You sound like you’re jealous.”

“I’m not, you can do whatever you want, not gonna stop you.”

“I want you, and you do keep stopping me.”

Marc sounded like an animal the way he grumbled and pulled your panties down to your ankles. You grabbed his pants and worked on getting them off, hearing his belt clank against the floor when he tossed them aside. You writhed under him, feeling the way his fat cock brushed your inner thigh. You could’ve cried it felt so fucking good to just have him touching you. Marc was right…that other guy would never be able to give you what he did. He could never make you feel the way Marc made you feel.

His erection was prodding at your hole, the leaking tip testing to make sure you were ready to take him. You grabbed his hip, pulling forward while arching into him, feeling it go in just a little further. You were feeling needy and impatient.

“Marc please,” you begged, “please.”

He dropped down to his elbows, resting on either side of your head and caging you in. You leaned up and kissed him. One of his large hands cupped your clothed breast as he thrusted full to the hilt inside of you. If not for his mouth covering yours, you would’ve screamed and awoken your father who was sleeping only two doors down in the hall. He pumped slowly, being careful not to make the bed creak.

“Better be quiet, keep your pretty little mouth shut honey.” Marc was whispering harshly while glaring down at you.

The head of his cock dragged against that spot deep inside that you could never quite reach on your own. You choked on the cries that your lungs tried to punch out of you. You wondered if this other guy would make you feel like your guts were being pushed aside every time he plunged his length deep inside of you. You wondered if he would make it hard for you to breathe every time his girth twitched in response to your fluttering walls. Mostly, you wondered if he would act like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen every time his eyes landed on yours.

A gasp fell from your lips.

“You trying to wake up daddy? Hm? Want him to hear his little girl getting railed out of her mind?”

“N-no it just…it feels so good,” you whined.

“I know baby, oh yes I know,” his voice was low, “no one else can make you feel like I do, right?” His voice was rough and wrecked.

“No one…n-no one, Marc.” You were struggling to keep your voice down so he covered your mouth with a large hand.

“That’s my girl.”

My girl, you thought. He said you were his girl…you wondered if he meant those words or if it was the alcohol talking.

“I’m always going to know what you need. I’m always going to know how to make you cry and squirm and fucking-fuck-baby-squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight-shit.” He started moving faster, you heard the bed creaking and you began to panic.

“Mmmm!” You couldn’t get a word out.

You felt numb, and at some point his hand became slick over your lips with the drool that leaked out beyond your control. Your mind was gone, and all you could focus on was the pleasure rolling through you with every smooth glide of his cock through your channel. Your body trembled beneath him. Your knuckles ached from how hard you grabbed his hips.

“Are you going to be a good and quiet little girl for me when you come? Or are you going to embarrass yourself, hm?” Marc’s grunts were getting louder and you started to feel nervous. “Oh honey, you feel so good. Such a tight little pussy baby-f-fuck.”

You both came at the same time, bodies pressed into each other as tight as you could so you could feel it. You noticed the way his abdomen flexed against your tummy with every pleasured groan that escaped him. You noticed how his lips tightened along with his closed eyelids; you noticed the way his cock pulsated, stretching you out while filling you to the brim with his hot cum as your cunt clenched around him firmly.

God you just wished he could stay. You wished so badly that he could just lay there in your arms when he was done and the two of you could drift off to sleep together. There was hope though. He called you his girl. He would only say that if it meant…

“Marc,” you said finally as he pulled his shirt over his head.

“Yeah?” He slid his underwear on over each leg.

“If you’re saying I’m your girl, does that mean we’re…you know?”

He looked at you with a raised brow, “what? Oh…no it’s…it’s not a thing.”

You couldn’t help the heartbreak that fell over you. You weren’t sure what you were honestly expecting. It was dumb to think anything else would’ve come from this. What were you thinking? That Marc really meant he was going to…what…go into your dad’s room and tell him that you were dating now? That he was just going to hold your hand in public and shout to the world that you two were seeing each other despite him being your dad’s best friend?

Of course not. Marc would never. The guilt would eat him alive more than it already had. You were stupid for even suggesting such a thing. He probably wished he’d never slept with you in the first place.

“Oh.”

He sighed and put his hand on the door handle.

“You have a date tomorrow, you should go on it and enjoy it.” He opened the door, letting the light from the hall pour into your bedroom. “Sorry if I gave you the wrong idea.”

“That’s it then? You’re done with this?”

“Never should’ve started this in the first place. Try to have fun. I’m sorry.”

The door closed, and you just felt empty inside.

----

You’d never felt so stupid.

There you were, standing in the rain outside of the restaurant where you’d been stood up. Your dad was gone for the weekend on business, and you didn’t know who else to call, that’s why you called him. He’d always be there for you, you knew that. No matter the situation, no matter the time, he would always come to your rescue.

Marc.

He pulled up to you, stopping fast by the sidewalk and getting out of the car. He ran over to you and immediately took off his jacket to put it around your bare arms, but not before muttering about how dumb it was for you to wear something so impractical in the first place. You pulled the coat closer to your body as he opened the passenger’s side door for you and you sat down inside.

You looked like a drowned rat as you observed yourself in the mirror. Your makeup was running down your cheeks and your tight red dress was soaked through. He was right, you were dumb, but not just for your clothing choices. You were dumb for thinking you could avoid him, for thinking you didn’t want him, and for thinking even for a second that you could possibly grow to love anyone besides him…but he didn’t love you. He’d made that abundantly clear.

The ride to your house was silent, awkwardly so. You felt a pang in your chest over the fact that Marc wasn’t talking. It meant, to you, that he was serious about his words the night before.

“Thanks,” you said as he pulled into the driveway.

He put the car in park and turned off the engine, “couldn’t leave you out there in the rain. Your dad woulda killed me.”

“You can come inside if you want. Dad has some extra beers in the fridge.” You opened your door.

“I probably shouldn’t I–”

You paused for a moment and then muttered, “fine.” You took off his coat and shoved it in his lap. “Goodnight, thanks again for the ride.”

You tried to wait until you got inside to start sobbing, feeling vulnerable and rejected, but you failed, feeling the tears coming down along with the rain. You never should’ve made all those moves on him over the course of the last couple months. It was all a huge mistake, and deep down you’d always known that, but now after your failed date, and Marc’s refusal to comfort you, you felt the weight of your stupidity on your shoulders. The rain drowned out his footsteps, so it shocked you when you turned to close the door and he was holding it open, pushing through to follow you inside. That’s when he noticed the fresh tears escaping you.

“Are you okay?” He asked, furrowing his brow, eyes darting rapidly between yours.

“No, Marc, no I’m not okay!” You walked to the living room and stood with your back to him. “Just go,” you said when you heard him coming in behind you.

“Why are you doing this? Huh?” He was raising his voice at you.

You flipped around and looked at him incredulously, “excuse me? Why am I doing this? You are just as guilty as I am! I am sick of you acting like the victim here.”

He stepped closer, “I know I kissed you that first night, alright? I know I shouldn’t have done that but everything else is on you.”

“Oh so I’m the one who made you walk into my bedroom last night? I’m pretty sure I went to bed and avoided you.” You prodded his heaving chest with your index finger, “you’re the one who came into my room to torture me last night.”

“Oh really? You call that torture?” He stepped closer, chest brushing against yours. “Didn’t sound like torture honey, sounded like you were having the time of your fuckin’ life! You know what’s torture? When your best friend’s kid acts like a goddamn tease and he’s expected to keep his hands to himself.”

“Oh poor YOU! Big strong guy getting seduced by a little girl? Fuck you Marc! You didn’t have to do anything and you know it!” You shoved him with your arms, but he stood like a brick wall, “get the hell out of my house.”

“That what you want? You want me to go?”

His face was close, nose brushing against yours. You were mad at him. You had half a mind to slap him and push him away again, but you didn’t. You stupidly kissed him, letting his body melt into yours. You were crying even harder now, and Marc stopped, pulling back to look at you and cupping your cheeks in his hands.

“Do you want me to leave?”

“No, I don’t ever want you to go, I don’t know what to do but I don’t ever want to be without you.” You said finally, letting your feelings come out.

Marc nodded, breathing heavily while he scooped you up, holding you against him and walking you to the couch with his lips over yours. In under a minute he had his pants around his thighs, and your panties pulled aside so he could plunge his cock into your wet heat once more. You both let out a pleasured cry into the living room.

“Marc please,” you looked at him, not really sure what you were begging for, but you were begging.

“Please what?” He rolled his hips forward, never taking his eyes off you, “say it honey.”

“Please don’t push me away again, I can’t take it.”

You had more tears trickling down your face. Marc brushed them away with his thumbs. He kissed you softly, moving his hips at a slow, sensual pace. He looked at you with a forlorn expression. He was filled with pain, guilt, and something you couldn’t put your finger on.

“I won’t. I promise.”

He grabbed your hip and started moving faster, pulling you in as he pushed forward. You’d never felt anything like it, the unseen but warm comfort that filled you with his words. You brought your lips to his again, tangling one hand in his hair while the other squeezed the meat of his behind.

His moans made your body feel soft and made you pliant for him. You would’ve given him even more of yourself if it were at all possible. He rested his forehead on yours, eyes boring into you while he continued his smooth glides deep into your cunt. You’d never felt so connected to anyone, you’d never felt so special to anyone.

“Are you ok?” He asked, moving to kiss your cheek.

“Y-yes, mm, yes. Better now.”

“There’s my girl.” He cooed, forcing your stomach to flutter.

“Oh, Marc.” You whined in his ear.

He hummed into your neck, brushing his lips there gently. You felt him thrusting harder, stuffing you and stretching you wider with every forward snap of his hips. His breath was punching out of his lungs right into your skin. You felt an overwhelming swell in your chest, a desire to hold onto him and never let go. You felt him getting harder as he moved. His breathing was heavy and rough against your neck.

“Gonna make you feel good all the time honey, always gonna fill you up,” he started moving faster. “It’s insane how-fuck-how good you feel.”

“Good enough to make a good boy misbehave?” Your giggle was followed by a sharp gasp when Marc nipped the skin on the side of your neck.

He started really fucking you, skipping over the part where he gradually ramped up his speed and moving straight into the skin slapping thrusts you craved. You could tell he was getting close, forcing you so roughly into the couch you thought you might become one with it.

“I think if anyone’s been misbehaving, it’s been you honey, couldn’t just let me be could you? Needed to feel me that bad? You’re always so wet. S-so fucking wet for me.”

“Always so hard for me,” you dug your nails into the flesh of his rear.

“Hear that?” He stopped, sliding back until his cock was about to fall out of you. As he pushed back into you, painstakingly slow, you heard the sound of his cock moving along your slick coated walls until he was flush against you again, “such a wet little girl.”

You were never going to last if he kept talking to you like that. Your pointless contest of who was harder or who was wetter ended with his display. He’d won, and that was fine with you. He was right anyway, you were soaking wet, slick coating your thighs and probably his too. You brought both hands to his cheeks and made him face you, lips pressing to yours while you both approached your climax.

“Are you gonna come for me? Make a mess all over your daddy’s couch?”

“Yes, oh fuck yes!” You kissed him deeper, feeding him your heavy groans while your orgasm overcame you.

You arched into him, feeling his mouth while he kissed through your pleasured cries. He huffed loudly while he came, holding you closely as his cock pulsated hot ropes into you. You felt like, when you were finished, your bodies let out an exhale of relief. All the emotions, feelings and physical desires pent up inside of you both were released with that one moment you shared. You’d come to an agreement, you were going to be together.

“Where do we go from here?” You asked, looking deep into Marc’s eyes while he grew soft inside of you.

He sighed heavily, “we’re going to have to find a way to tell your dad.”

No matter how tough things would be, you knew everything would work out now that you had Marc, and Marc had you.

Moon Knight DBF Masterlist

Moon Knight Masterlist

As a friendly reminder, I don't have a taglist anymore. You can follow @melodygatesupdates and turn on notifications for updates.

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nerdieforpedro · 2 months

Note

I love how you write and it makes me so glad you are here.

can I ask what inspired you to start?

signed - a maybe inspired future fic writer

This is such a wonderful ask! 🥰

I'm glad you enjoy my writing. I have ideas and I write them is my short answer and explains nothing I realize.

The long answer:

I've written fanfic before, off and on for maybe the last 10-15 years. Very different fandoms. Started out with anime, dabbled a bit in Yaoi then transitioned to Marvel and now I'm firmly planted in the Pedro Pascal, Oscar Issac, Benny Miller triangle of hotness.

Fanfic for me is an expression of a story, show, movie, video game or pice of media that I enjoyed so much, I just had to make something. I can't draw, no mixing of hot tracks or beats, I've just started dabbling in photo editing this year and am a beginner at that. It's all purely fun for me. I enjoy it and it's fun to share with other people who create and are like, "Hey! You like that? I like it too. Let me see yours and I'll show you mine. Where'd you get the idea for that?" And then hilarious conversations leap from there.

What inspired me to start specifically in the Pedro Pascal fanfic world was The Mandalorian. It was the first time I realized, "that's the man I've seen before!" And then realized I've seen Pedro Pascal in many of my favorite shows, (The Mentalist was watched for the sake of completion. After season 6 and the first episode of season 7, there wasn't a real reason to continue other than spending time with my mom. She's fine, when I tell people that they think she's passed on but the woman is still lifting 50 lbs mulch bags in her mid seventies. She more than fine.) I then became fixated on this man, reset the password on my AO3 account and found Pedro Pascal character fanfics. I was then led back to Tumblr which before I was on years ago for anime and read fics by @secretelephanttattoo ( I shall always sing about Headshots. It inspired the first fic I posted on Tumblr and is just so damn cute. El is also just a sweetheart.) and @morallyinept whose Tendrils fic only deepened my brain rot for that tall beskar bucket, she's also a dear friend who's made me laugh, cry in a good way, inspired me and very time I turn around she's crafting something new. Fics, banners, self-care, doodles, smut, databases, and all sorts of Pedro interviews and dialogue. Because I'm a fangirl of them both and many others actually, I keep 👀 on them.

What keeps me going is the fandom overall and that despite, recent tribulations let's say politely, we're all still here. Geeking out over a goofy, handsome, I know he gives the best hugs, actor who loves what he does and has been working at it for years and it's finally paying off.

I've met wonderful friends and moots who reach out, give me encouragement, tell me I do well (I'm starting to listen to them I swear. I'm not good at taking compliments in person so it's even worse online FYI.

So I hope this answers your ask and I do encourage you to write that weird, funny, smutty, cute, sweet, dark, twisty, angsty fic that you want to write. I do hope whoever you are, you tag me in it so I can read it. 🤭

Special love to the following and if I left anyone off, I'm sorry. It's after work, I rubbed my eyes, wipes my glasses because I got them wet while writing this and it was a lot:

@maggiemayhemnj @megamindsecretlair @soft-persephone @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @magpiepills

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @for-a-longlongtime @i-own-loki @undercoverpena @connectioneverywhere

@soft-girl-musings @perotovar @julesonrecord @lotusbxtch @604to647

@yorksgirl @pedroshotwifey @fhatbhabiee @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @bitchwitch1981

@jessthebaker @avastrasposts @inept-the-magnificent @lady-bess @grogusmum

@schnarfer @boliv-jenta @iamskyereads @iamasaddie @chaithetics

@tinytinymenace @yourcoolauntie @alltheglitterandtheroar @musings-of-a-rose @rhoorl

@trulybetty @laurfilijames @wannab-urs @legendary-pink-dot @din-cognito

@sin-djarin @beefrobeefcal @spacecowboyhotch

#Nerdie's ask box #A kind anon #and I wrote way too much #tagged everyone I could think of off hand #it's really long #but it's fine I think?

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bleach-your-panties · 10 months

Text

victory ride - jean kirchstein x black!fem!reader

⚽️:soccer player!jean x black!fem reader

💎:inspired minimally by a real life encounter I had and because y'all know jean will have y'all in the hospital with that thang between his legs

⚽warnings: university au, smut, consensual recording, oral (m! receiving), switch!jean

💎: banner: made by me on pic collage, image from pinterest, animated on canva

⚽:tagging @chrollohearttags because they not finna play with long dick jean silver's

💎: divider: @/firefly-graphics

⚽: 2.1k words

▶️: rodeo(remix)- lah pat ft. flo milli

—

He love how I ride it

Hop on the dick, I made him get excited

This pussy off limits for lame niggas

Yeah, fuck me like you got some pain in you

—-

You sat idly scrolling through your cell phone while Jean was getting dressed in his uniform for the game that was to start in a couple of hours.

The first away game of the season and the Island Devils would be going up against some preppy university one state over.

While you had been studying this team extensively, Jean had opted not to do so as much, mainly because his nerves wouldn't let him.

"I'm ready, babe. It's time for me to board the bus." He said, looking at the silver, black-bezel Seiko watch that you'd bought him for his birthday.

Your family believed in that old ass superstition that you should never buy a man a watch as a gift, because it would mean the time in your relationship would run out.

Which is why it was just that - a superstition. You and Jean had been together since your freshman year of college and now graduation is right around the corner.

"Okay baby. Sasha, Connie, and I will be right behind y'all." You grabbed your bag and he leaned down to give you a soft kiss on the lips.

"Lead the way, baby." He smiled that handsome and devious smile of his, making you roll your eyes.

"Don't think I'm not on to you, Kirchstein!" You pointed at him and began walking out of his apartment door and into the hallway to get to the elevator.

"What did I do?" He asked innocently all the while his hazel eyes were trailing all over your body: from your pastel pink manicured toes, up your toned legs and calf muscles, stopping at your plump, juicy ass that wiggled in the beige romper that you had on. "Damn."

"Uh huh, I knew it." You laughed and pushed your hand into his lower back, making him stumble into a corner of the elevator.

"You're mean." He fake-pouted.

"Uh huh," You said while typing something on your phone. "Better get used to it, buttercup, if you wanna win against the Freedomfighters tonight."

"Freedomfighters, what a stupid ass name." He scoffed. "We'll kick their asses for sure, don't you worry, baby."

When the team bus pulled into the hotel where you all would be staying, Connie parked the car in a space not too far from it and you all got out.

Apparently, the opposing team was staying at this exact same hotel because another bus, similar to your team's but decorated in green and red with a large design of two red roses on either side of a stone wall with a cannon blasting right through it, was parked right next to the guys'.

A petulant-looking ginger was the first off of the bus, and Connie nudged you to get you to look. The tall, lean man was conversing with an equally-as-tall brunette with deep, emerald green eyes and his hair pulled back in a man-bun.

"He looks like an asshole."

You chuckled, "He does and probably is. Come on, let's get inside."

The trio (you, Sasha, and Connie) walked into the hotel lobby and met up with Jean again.

His teammates were used to him running off to hang with the three of you and didn't really mind since he was the captain anyway.

"Ready to head up to the room, dollface?" He asked while heaving his backpack and duffle bag over his shoulders. His face came down to press a kiss against your hair, which made you giggle.

"Yeah, I'm ready."

"No getting your dick wet before the game, Jean-y boy. Can't have you making us lose."

"Who the fuck is us? How many goals have you scored for this team? Oh right, zero."

The two of them started bickering back and forth while you walked ahead with Sasha, who'd started chatting in your ear about a popular restaurant in the area.

Shiny metal doors parted for you all and Sasha hit the button for the doors to close until a tan, veiny hand stopped them. A group of very tall athletes sauntered in, laughing and chattering amongst themselves.

The space inside the elevator soon became very crowded, almost squishing the four of you against the elevator's back wall.

'Damn, excuse you then, big ass niggas' You thought while rolling your eyes.

"Verzeihen Sie uns. Platz für ein paar mehr?" (Pardon us. Room for a couple more?)

The ginger and brunette from before, obviously all of them are players on the team Jean is about to go up against us.

Said ginger rolled his eyes as they both stepped into the elevator and stood right next to you, finally letting the doors close.

"Eren, not everyone speaks German, cut it out."

The brunette chuckled deeply.

"My apologies."

His eyes then met yours, jaded hues traveling slowly over your frame, drinking you in.

"Meine Güte, was für eine schöne Frau." (My, what a beautiful woman.)"

You just raised an eyebrow, not understanding a lick of German, but Jean did.

He was between you and Eren in an instant, only having to take one long step forward with those strong, muscular legs.

While he was sizing Eren up, you were doing the same to Jean: your brown eyes roamed over all 6'4" inches of him.

How those black socks covered his legs up to just under his knees and how the silky white and blue shorts formed around the thick, muscled curvature of his ass just right.

Here you were drooling over him while he was about to murder Eren with his honeyed glare.

"Ja, das ist sie, und sie ist bereits vergeben." (Yes she is, and she's already spoken for)

Eren gave Jean a cocky smirk and held his hands up in a mock surrender.

"My apologies, again."

The elevator stopped on their floor and they got out, Eren still with his grin and Floch behind him with the look of a pure dumbass who would support his friend hitting on another man's girlfriend.

"Who were those pricks, anyway?" Jean grumbled looking down at the three of you as you all walked out into the hallway of the fifth floor.

"The brunette was Eren Yeager from Germany, #5. The ginger, Floch Forster from Ireland, #7." You informed the group.

"So you knew who he was this entire time?" Jean asked with an eyebrow raised and a teeny bit of jealousy threaded in throughout his usually calm and deep baritone.

"It's not that big of a deal, it's not like I'm his best friend. I just studied him a bit."

"Studied him?"

Jean's eyebrows shot up into his hairline and his forehead wrinkled significantly. His face portrayed a pretense of self-restraint, like he was attempting to prevent himself from making a scene in the middle of the hallway.

"Anddddd that's our cue to go. Come on, Sasha." Connie quickly grabbed the dark-auburn-haired woman's hand and pulled her down the hallway in the direction of their room.

Awkwardly, you stood with Jean in the middle of the hallway for a few seconds until he turned and stalked off towards your shared room.

His long, spindly fingers held the hotel keycard in a death grip; the veins in his forearms protruded and you could feel your panties getting wet.

"Um, are you mad?"

They lost.

The Freedomfighters actually beat the Island Devils, 3-0.

If you thought Jean was mad before, oh baby, now he was enraged.

Not at you, but more so himself.

That damned Eren Yeager turned out to be a pretty decent soccer player and it only irritated Jean even more when he saw you standing on the sidelines with your video camera.

It wasn't unusual for you to record his games so he and the team could watch the playback later to see what needed to be improved upon, but tonight it only irritated him everytime he looked up to see you with the damned contraption pointed right at him.

Capturing all of his failures of the night live and in 4K resolution.

What made it even worse was that he saw you pointing the camera towards Eren quite a bit as he ran up and down the field.

Jean was only irritated further when you both had returned to the room after the game and he came out of the shower to see you curled up on the bed, already watching the newly acquired video footage.

"Will you put that goddamned thing down already?"

You leaned up from your reclining position on the pillow to acknowledge him.

"Come again?"

"You heard me, or better yet-"

—-

I wanna fuck you right now

Reverse that cowgirl, I'm bucking right now

Climb on this standardbred, hope you can handle it

Beat that cat up when this dog put it down

Let's make a movie, girl, I'll do the shootin'

Camera in my left with your hair in my right

—-

"Yeah, just like that, baby….fuckkkk, hold that angle right there, don't you move."

Jean shivered, but kept his hazel eyes focused on the image of you in the viewfinder swallowing his dick.

His right hand held a tight grip on your hair while he thrust his hips rhythmically back and forth, making you gag on his fat length.

Long and thick, his dick touched the very back of your throat, the outline of it making the skin of your neck bulge in the most grotesque fashion.

"You look so good like this, baby, practically inhaling my dick. Wonder what Yeager would think if he saw you like this, yeah?"

As soon as he mentioned the German man, his eyes crinkled with anger again and his thrusts grew in both force and speed.

Knowing Jean, he'd probably started recording over the footage you'd taken of the game, that which he could honestly give a damn about right now.

"Fuck, I think I like this view much better." He smirked and then let out a deep groan as he emptied his balls in your searing, placable mouth.

"Shit…" He made sure to capture the image of you swallowing his nut and then wiping the excess from around your mouth with those pretty acrylic-tipped fingers.

"Come here; come ride me, baby."

—-

No time to make love, yeah

Keep screamin' you want it

Girl you lookin' lovely

When you ride this pony

We can do this to the morning

So please come and ride me

Love it when I'm deep inside you

You goin' crazy, yeah

—-

Jean's muffled moans seeped through your hand as you now held the camera pointed at him while bouncing up and down on his thick length.

Years of being together and still you felt the stretch of your pussy every time he was inside of you.

Your hand moved from his mouth and tangled in his ash-brown hair and pulled his head back and forth in time with your movements. He could be very loud in bed, which you loved because you revered a man that would let you know that you're making him feel good as well.

"Shit, Jean, baby, you look so fucking good on camera, just as good as you do when you're on the field." You mewled in heightened pleasure, wanting to throw your own head back but also not wanting to miss a single second of his gorgeous face gazing up at you.

His chest and forehead glistening with sweat, those honey-gray eyes shining with unshed tears as his body soon began to tremble with his impending orgasm. Yeah, you had that much of an effect on him.

Just looking at you could make him hard in an instant, but looking up at you while you took his dick like you owned it (and you do) had him more swollen and readier than ever to shoot off inside you like the cannon depicted on the side of the Freedomfighters' bus.

Yeah, after the ride you were giving him tonight he was bound to forget all about Eren, the team, the game - hell, he might even forget his own name for a couple of hours.

That is, if he didn't have you screaming it through the thin walls of this hotel room in those next hours.

Eren might have won the game, but he was the one taking a victory ride tonight.

—-

(If you're horny)

I wanna feel your body on top of mine

(Let's do it)

Right now, we ain't gone waste no time, baby (ride it)

Like a Harley in the wind

Got you bragging to your friends the way you ride (my pony)

Like a rodeo, ride like a rodeo, babe

*ʳᵉᵇˡᵒᵍˢ ᵃʳᵉ ᵃᵖᵖʳᵉᶜⁱᵃᵗᵉᵈ!

#aot jean #aot jean x reader #jean x black reader #jean kirchstein #jean x reader smut #jean kirschtein x reader #aot jean smut #aot jean kirchstein smut #jean x y/n #i dont know anything about soccer #and dont come for me on the team names lol😭#jean kirchstein smut #jean x black female reader #💗💗🍡°aot masterlist #byp🌹#💗💗🍡°my fics

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roosterforme · 10 months

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 20 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After your adventure at the bar, you only have the remainder of the weekend with Bradley before he's taking off once again. You both make the most of that time, but an unpleasant surprise lingers as he leaves with his duffle bag and a new notebook. You just hope he can return with a successful mission under his belt.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, pregnancy discussion, fluff, smut, spanking

Length: 4000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

It was late Friday night. Bradley was leaving on Monday for the top secret special mission, and he might end up missing his birthday with you. Your parents were planning to come visit in July. You'd just had your husband pick you up at the bar during a sexy role playing experiment. And now you were on all fours on your bed with him balls deep inside you.

Honestly, the evening just kept getting better; he was giving you everything you wanted tonight. You got to witness first hand the way he picked you up at the bar by combining his old school tactics with the new things that he knew would really appeal to you specifically.

And now he had seamlessly switched from being your sweet, loving Daddy to being the Daddy who called you his bratty little slut. When you turned to look at him over your shoulder, his eyes looked deep and possessive. His cheeks were flushed, and his expression looked a little mean. God, you were already starting to clench for him as he said, "I love my slutty little wife."

"Oh god," you moaned as he placed one rough hand on the back of your head and pushed your face down to the pillows.

He leaned over your body, caging you in with his mouth next to your ear while he absolutely nailed you. "Knew you'd come home with me. Knew you'd be begging for my cock. You didn't even wear underwear tonight, that's how fucking bad you wanted it."

"Bradley," you gasped, ready to come as he smacked your ass and grabbed your hips with both hands and unloaded inside you for the second time tonight.

"Jesus," he growled, his movements becoming jerky as you rocked back against him through your own orgasm. You slowly let your legs slide out from underneath your body, and he eased himself down so he was laying on top of you, panting for breath. "Am I hurting you?" he whispered, kissing your cheek as you turned your head to the side.

"No," you mumbled in a daze underneath his warm body with his cock still shoved up inside you. "Kind of comfy, actually."

"Okay," he replied as his cheek came to rest on yours. "And don't even think about asking for round three tonight. I'm fucking beat."

You knew better than to joke about his age. It was less than three weeks until his thirty-seventh birthday, and his confidence was still a little shaky after his last deployment. "I'm tired, too," you whispered.

"Can't believe you wanted me to pick you up from the bar like that, Sweetheart," he murmured. "How long were you there before Ethan tried to make you his little snack?"

You laughed, but Bradley's weight on top of you stifled the movement. "About two minutes."

He shook his head. "An investment banker with a Ferrari? It's incredible you ever went for me at all."

You wiggled underneath him until he lifted himself into a push up position, sliding out of your pussy and holding himself still so you could roll over onto your back. "I'm always going to go for my Daddy," you whispered as he eased his body back down on top of yours. "He promised to take exceptional care of me."

You ran your fingernails through his hair and along his scalp, and his eyes closed in pleasure immediately. "I always will." His lips were parted, his cheeks were flushed, and he looked so handsome as you kissed his forehead. "I'm sorry there were times I didn't. I'll keep doing better and better."

He would. And you were so thankful that you made it back to this point with him. You felt like you could tell him what was on your mind again, and you knew he was really listening. He wasn't hiding his feelings and concerns from you. The trust you felt was almost palpable, which was making every other part of your marriage right now exceptionally good.

"I love you, Bradley." You whispered the words softly, like they were so precious they might break. Then you whispered them again, a little louder, like they were too important to hide.

Both of his hands were on your face, thumbs rubbing your cheeks as his fingers pushed back along your hair. He brought his lips down to meet yours, and a few minutes later you whispered, "I thought you were too tired for round three."

------------------------

Bradley was in love with you and in love with everything about this weekend. He'd been more nervous than he anticipated when he got to One Trick Pony last night, but you'd been delighted by the role playing. It was easy to slip into a fantasy with you when he knew that his normal life and yours were waiting on the other side. And you knew he wouldn't let anything happen to you.

Now you were perched on his lap at the dining room table in just his rather threadbare UVA tee shirt, dousing the plate of breakfast in maple syrup. You fed him a bite of the stuffed French toast you made for him while you kissed his cheek. Bradley was physically exhausted today, and you and he hadn't even made it out of the bedroom until noon. Even then, he only came to the kitchen to feed Tramp who was whining non stop, and you offered to make him anything he wanted for breakfast.

"Is it good?" you whispered before you tried a bite.

"Fucking delicious," replied before nibbling gently at the side of your neck.

Your laughter rang out, and the sound was so pure and beautiful, he hated to bring up the conversation that needed to happen today. But after the French toast was eaten and the plate was left in the sink for him to take care of later, he led you and your second mug of coffee over to the couch. Bradley pulled you legs up onto his lap and kissed your knee.

"Can we talk about my deployment?"

You eyed him up and down and said, "You mean your top secret special mission? When you say deployment, it sounds like it will go on for months, and I really hope you'll be back in time to celebrate your birthday with me."

"Fine," he said with a sigh. "Then can we talk about my top secret special mission, Sweetheart?"

"Yep," you replied with a smirk, and he really did have to appreciate how calm you seemed right now. It was making him feel calm, too.

"I'm leaving my wedding ring here with you. Just like last time. I'm taking the silicone one, even though I don't like it as much, okay?"

"Okay. Thanks for telling me." Your lips were hidden behind your mug, but Bradley could tell you were smiling. He'd fumbled things so badly last time in part by not reminding you he bought the placeholder ring. He was unwilling to go away in a similar fashion this time; his goal was to leave no doubt in your mind about him or anything else while he was gone.

"And I really might not be back before my birthday. That's barely two weeks from now, and I don't have any firm dates. I just hope they fly me back commercial again so I'm not sitting around waiting for a comanche to bring me home."

You set the mug on the coffee table and climbed onto his lap. "I know you might be gone longer, but I'm holding out hope anyway." The way you fit perfectly in his arms when your cheek was resting on his shoulder would never not amaze him. You snuggled in a little closer and said, "But just come back home to me, Roo."

He swallowed hard. The two of you had had so many conversations just like this one over the many months you'd been together and the many times he'd left for his work. He was just happy he'd be leaving on better terms this time.

"You know I'll always fight for that, Baby Girl." He kissed your forehead. "Let's take Tramp for a walk down to the beach. It's kind of overcast today, so maybe it won't be as crowded." You nodded and started to stand up as Bradley said, "Oh, one more thing. When your parents let you know when they're coming out to visit, book them a hotel room. I don't care how much it costs, put it on the credit card."

You stood in front of him with your hands on your hips. "They can just stay here-"

"No."

"Oh come on, Bradley. We can have quiet sex!"

He shook his head. "Book the hotel room for them. And when I get home, we can talk about renovating the upstairs space into a usable bedroom or two. Because they will need to be a whole floor away with how loud you get. Or I'll never be able to look them in the eye again."

---------------------------

On Sunday, you were starting to feel a little melancholy. You had less than a day before you had to drop Bradley off in Miramar at five in the morning, and your anxious energy was creeping in. At least he seemed to want to be around you as much as you wanted to be around him.

"Will you help me finish packing?" he asked, rubbing a big hand along your tattoo through your shirt while you stood at the open refrigerator. You pulled out the pack of chicken that you needed to have thawed so you could make dinner soon, and then spun around to face him.

"What do you need help with?"

He shrugged. "Nothing really. Just thought it would be nice to have you in the bedroom with me while I organize everything."

"How are you this sweet?" you asked as you took him by the hand and led him down the hallway. Tramp was having a puppy dream in his little bed, so you quietly joined Bradley at his open duffle bag. You saw his neatly packed underwear, socks, shirts and uniform components. His travel sized toothbrush and razor were there, too, along with some photos of you and him together.

"Am I missing anything I need?" he asked seriously, as he counted how many undershirts were in a stack. You carefully climbed onto the bed and pretended to pack yourself in the bag, and Bradley laughed quietly. "I fucking wish."

"It would be like the first time, when we were both sent out to the carrier together."

Bradley groaned as you sprawled out across the middle of the bed. "I only get Cyclone and Warlock this time. No sweet Baby Girl diligently waiting for my return."

You rolled your eyes, but you were smiling as he climbed on the bed with you. "Don't you dare get shot down this time. And don't jump off the carrier deck either. And definitely don't get flustered by the young dipshits from Lemoore. Cyclone said you're one of the best, and you are."

Bradley let you collect him in your arms and he just inhaled your scent and absorbed your warmth. Then with a sigh, he removed his wedding band and handed it to you. "You can keep it safe for me," he whispered.

"I'll have it with me when I pick you up. Wherever and whenever I pick you up."

Bradley eventually finished packing before he went to take a long shower and shave around his mustache while you made dinner. You kept telling him he needed a good night's sleep tonight. You weren't wrong, but he wanted to stay up and spend as much time with you as he could. He was about to tell you that he could sleep on the comanche, no problem, and that you should let him stay up all night with you. But when he walked into the kitchen in his clean boxer briefs, he was greeted by the most wonderful sight.

Your back was to him, as you strained pasta at the sink, and the smell of Marry Me Rooster cooking was making him weak. You were wearing just your white Mrs. Bradshaw panties from the wedding night along with your I Love Meat apron. He couldn't see the embroidery on the front of your underwear, but he knew the way the pretty satin fabric bunched around your thighs by heart. And that dumb apron he bought was the only other thing on you, tied around your neck and across your lower back.

He was already throbbing for you, and he knew it would just get worse. "Hey, Roo," you said casually when you saw him. "Dinner is almost ready. Wanna grab some beers and I'll bring a plate in."

"Yeah," he rasped, pecking you on the cheek and running his fingers along your bare back when he walked past. He couldn't even tell if it was intentional or not. Maybe you didn't realize you were turning him on right now. He got two beers from the refrigerator and went to sit at the table, and you joined him a minute later with one plate piled high with dinner.

You set it down softly in front of him, but his eyes were on you as you untied the apron and let it fall to the floor. And yeah, it was intentional. Yes, you knew you were turning him on right now as you stood there topless with Mrs. Bradshaw written across your pussy.

"You need a good dinner and a good night's sleep," you told him, but he made no move to eat the Marry Me Rooster yet. He patted his thigh for you to take a seat, but you just shook your head once and squeezed down between his body and the edge of the table until you were on your knees. You looked up at him with questioning eyes as you pulled his cock and balls free of his underwear and licked his tip.

"Do I need that, too?" he asked, voice deep and rough. You just nodded as you wrapped your lips around him. "I think you're right."

You bobbed slowly up and down his length before you popped him free and whispered, "You can eat your dinner," before licking his balls.

"One thing at a time," he grunted, fixated on how pretty you looked as you smiled and parted your lips again. You weren't in any hurry, and neither was he as you ran your tongue all over his length in broad stripes before sucking. Bradley ran his fingers and knuckles over the curve of your cheek while he kept one hand at the back of your head. He wasn't forceful as he guided himself deep, but when you gagged on him, his head tipped back as he panted. You felt so good, and the soft sounds you made as you tried to take him impossibly deeper just made him harder for you.

"Fuck," he growled, looking at your eyes watering as your lips skimmed his balls and his trimmed hairs. Your nipples were hard and you were moaning. "Come up here. Ride me."

You whimpered as he helped you up onto his lap. His length was dripping with your saliva as he pulled your wedding underwear to the side and let you sink down around him. Bradley was a little afraid he didn't have much left in the tank for you, so he stroked your rooster tattoo before tucking his thumb inside the front of the satin fabric. He let you set the tempo, rubbing yourself against his hand how you wanted him. Your forearms were resting on his shoulders as you played with his hair and kissed him lazily, languidly. Your tits brushed his chest with every movement.

"You feel good," you murmured with a soft smile before returning your lips to his. Bradley just grunted, already feeling himself getting close from the sure and steady roll of your hips and your tight pussy. Then your fingers wound a little deeper in his hair as you moaned, "Oh. You feel good."

He moved his lips to your neck and found that sweet spot to suck on while you begged him to rub your clit harder. Your begging turned to near screaming as you came, and he allowed himself to as well. There was a wet, sticky mess where you and he remained connected, and after you licked his lips and kissed his mustache, Bradley leaned down and kissed your breasts.

"Thanks for making my favorite dinner," he whispered, kissing his way back up to your lips before reaching behind you for the plate. Then without moving, he held the Marry Me Rooster between your soft body and his, and you fed it to him as you ate some yourself.

-------------------------

Bradley plugged in his phone and yours and took your glasses off before kissing your forehead. It was barely eight o'clock, but after dinner and a quick phone call to your parents, you insisted he start getting ready for bed. You looked tired, and he felt tired, so he did as he was told. And now as you curled up on his chest in bed, Bradley took your hand in his.

"Did you want me to read from my notebook?" he asked. You already knew he packed a fresh one to write in at night while he was away. It would be a nice break if he had an annoying bunkmate to deal with.

"Not tonight," you whispered. "But I'm sure I'll read it while you're away."

He turned off his light and kissed the top of your head. "I'll be thinking about you the whole time. I have no idea if I'll be allowed to call you, but if I have the chance, I will, okay?"

"Okay, Roo."

"I love you," were the last words on his lips as he dozed off. Then the alarm was blaring on his phone way too soon, and he was handing your glasses back to you again.

"Do you want anything to eat?" you asked blearily. "Or just coffee?"

"Just coffee," he replied as you slipped out of bed in the pitch black bedroom. "I'll take some protein bars, too."

Bradley watched you pull on some yoga pants and a tee shirt so you could take him up to Miramar before you got yourself ready for work. He heard you messing with the French press in the kitchen while he zipped up his uniform pants, and then you were shuffling past him and into the bathroom.

You were still using the toilet while he brushed his teeth, and he barely heard you whisper his name. "Yeah?" he asked as he spit and went to rinse.

"My period started. A day or two early. I knew I was feeling a little crampy."

Bradley turned to see the sadness in your eyes, but you took a deep breath and squared your shoulders. He hadn't been thinking about it. You and he hadn't been talking about it. He wasn't overly concerned at the moment with your cycle. And even though he knew you hadn't been as absorbed with trying to get pregnant for the past month and a half, the idea must have still been in the back of your mind. Because he found that it was that way for him.

"Okay," he replied softly. "That's okay. I just wish I could stay and get your heating pad ready for you and rub your feet after work."

You nodded and he bent down to kiss the top of your head. "Me too," you whispered. "But Tramp will take care of me."

Bradley went to the bathroom cabinet and held up the different packages of pads and tampons and brought you the ones you wanted. Then he kissed you again. "You'll be okay. Right?"

"Yeah," you replied as you flushed the toilet. "I can talk to Dr. Genevieve if I need to, but I think I'll be okay."

He wanted to tell you a million times that it didn't matter if you never got pregnant, but he settled for, "It's me and you right now, and I love that."

You nodded against his chest as he held you for a few minutes. "Let's get you to Miramar."

Bradley picked up his duffle bag but kept his fingers linked with yours as he spied you wearing his wedding band on the chain with your charms. He kissed your lips and then kissed his ring, and you were smiling again as you and he headed out to the driveway. When you tried to pull him toward your car, he said, "Absolutely not," and your laughter in the darkness had him smiling, too. "Let's take the Bronco."

He dropped his bag to the driveway to open the door and buckle you in. Then he was tossing the duffle into the back and starting the engine, and he backed out of the driveway as the beams from his headlights illuminated the front porch. He paused for a beat before shifting into drive and heading off for another assignment, another aircraft carrier, another block of time away from home.

As he drove down the street he turned on the radio and said, "Damn, you really made everything so much better and so much harder for me at the same time."

"What are you talking about?" you asked, turning to look at him.

"I just never thought I'd hate leaving home this much."

You leaned on his bicep and played with his hand for the rest of the drive up to the airstrip where a whole fleet of aircrafts were waiting. The sky was lightening, and there were officers and personnel everywhere along with some family members who came to say goodbye. When Bradley parked and helped you out of the Bronco. He saw Cyclone immediately, and he knew he should head over and meet his team and board the comanche, but he just held you instead.

Other people started their cars and left. Officers were boarding aircrafts, but Bradley just wanted another couple minutes here. "I love you. Be good."

You kissed his chest through his uniform and looked up at him with tears in your eyes. "I love you, too. I'll pick you up anytime. Just come back home to me."

He nodded before kissing your lips. "I will." He took your face in both hands and kissed both of your cheeks and your nose before settling his lips back on yours. "I will."

"I love you, Bradley!" you called after him as he carried his bag toward the barbed wire fence with his ID in his hand. He turned and looked back at you so many times, it felt like he wasn't even making any progress toward the airstrip. But he had to go, and part of him wanted to go.

He showed his badge at the gate opening, and once he was through to the other side, he cupped his free hand around his mouth and shouted, "I love you, Baby Girl!" You waved and wiped your tears as he headed toward Cyclone, Warlock and the aircraft that would take the whole group of them out over the Pacific Ocean.

-------------------------------

And he's off once again. Going to peek in at Jake and Cat and sweet little Jeremiah. And I hope Bradley doesn't miss his birthday at home. So many things coming soon! Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 21

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souliebird · 10 months

Text

[[and then I met you || ch. 10]]

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to protect his new family from not only Hell's Kitchen but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9

Words: 4.2k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

When Minnie was six months old, you used to sleep on the couch so you wouldn't wake her up trying to get ready for bed. It would hurt your back - your couch was not very comfortable to sleep on - but you would sacrifice your comfort so she could sleep. No one in their right mind would wake a sleeping baby - even one that was always happy to go down for a nap.

As your mind begins to stir, you become aware of the familiar ache in your lower back and the unfamiliar one pulsing around your eyes. Your hand slowly snakes up from where you had curled it against your chest and press your fingers along the bridge of your nose and up to the curve of your eyebrow, testing to see if the throbbing was sinus related. Nothing is triggered but your memories of the night before creep into your consciousness.

Minnie with her tantrum and Matt with his amazing senses.

You groan into the cushion as it all falls into place. Your eyes hurt from crying, not your sinuses, and you must have fallen asleep on the couch after your breakdown.

Shame and embarrassment course through you. You hate crying and you hate that someone witnessed it. You can't imagine what he must think of you now - losing it like that. You should have been able to handle the news far better than you had and you're going to promptly apologize the next time you talk to him. You had acted so selfishly when it was clear he had control over the situation.

But you don't have time to sit and wallow in your wretchedness - your daughter needs you to get up and be a capable adult, so you will your aching body to sit up.

Your phone is sitting on the table in front of you, so you grab it to check the time. It's half past seven and your daughter has probably been awake for at least an hour. More shame courses through you - you always try to wake up before her so you can take care of her. You can only guess what state she is in.

Your head spins as you stand, but you try to ignore it in favor of heading towards the bedroom. You prepare yourself to find a soiled bed - you didn't bother to change her into her night clothes and a pull-up and she is still mastering waking up when she needs to pee at night.

The door is partially open and as you near it, you hear her tiny voice talking nonsense as she plays with something. You take a deep breath and push into the room, ready to face the start of your day.

Your mind short-circuits at what you encounter.

Both beds are clean and made, far tidier than you usually make them, and Minnie is sat on the floor with Scooby and some of her other stuffed animals, having what looks to be a tea party. To your absolute confusion, she is already dressed, and her hair has been put into pigtails with mismatched bows. You know for a fact she can't reach where you keep her hair supplies - you put them on a high shelf after she got into them to play salon before and managed to get her hair tangled so badly you had to cut things out.

It doesn't even take her half a second to notice you and her little face breaks into the biggest smile, “Mommy!”

Still very much confused, you step forward to join the tea party circle and kneel down to be level with her. “Hi, sweetie,” you greet, trying your best to not alarm her. “Did you get dressed all by yourself?”

“Not-uh! Mister Matt helped! We watched lots of videos about hair and he made me pretty!”

You frown at that, “Mister Matt helped?” Had he stayed the night after you fell asleep? If so, where is he now? Your apartment isn't that big, and the bathroom door is open. Had he left before you woke up? You don’t like the idea of him leaving Minnie unsupervised.

Your daughter nods as she turns back to her toys, pretending to pour you a cup of tea and handing it over. You automatically pretend to take a sip.

“He helped make me pretty,” she confirms after putting her tea pot down, “now he's getting foods. Bagels!”

You turn the statement over in your mind - there is a bagel shop around the corner Minnie loves and if Matt is right about her also having enhanced abilities, maybe, just maybe, he didn't leave her unwatched.

You bite your lip, then dare to push.

“Mouse, do you think you can tell me where Mister Matt is right now? Can you hear him?”

She doesn't acknowledge you right away, fussing with another piece of her tea set. You wait, allowing her to process what is being asked of her and watch as she slowly starts to move her head in minute movements, like she's tracking something. It's terrifying and fascinating to see a look of concentration come over her face and after about thirty seconds, she breaks into another big smile.

“He's talking to a frog!”

“A frog..?” You ask, wondering if Matt was wrong about Minnie having heightened senses and she's playing pretend again.

“Yeah, he says…he says.. He's telling froggy he can't go to work. He's gonna stay with us!”

It clicks instantly. Matt isn't talking to a frog. He's talking to his business partner, Foggy Nelson, and as far as you know, Matt hasn't mentioned him or Karen yet by name to Minnie.

“Can you tell where he is?” You ask again, being sure to be gentle with your question.

“Outside,” is her response, like it is the most obvious thing in the world. “Froggies can't come inside. Do you want sugar?” She holds up her toy spoon and you offer her your tea cup.

“Yes, please.”

She pretends to scoop sugar and you watch her in amazement. You are of course going to have to confirm that Matt was talking to Foggy, but it is so hard to believe your little one can hear that. You can't hear what is going on in your own living room, let alone outside your apartment. You cannot imagine how loud everything must be, how much input Mouse must be getting - but she doesn't seem bothered by it at all right now.

She seems to be completely over her tantrum from yesterday and you want to ask her about it, but you aren't sure how or if she has the ability to express it. You know there are days you get overwhelmed and upset and you can't think of another way to explain it other than “too much”. You can't expect a three year old to articulate it better than you can.

She's got a sweet little smile and part of you fears if you bring up her previous upset, it will spiral right back into a meltdown. So, you watch instead - watch as she goes back to playing make pretend with her toys, seemingly unbothered. You sip at your tea, making up a list of questions for Matt when he returns from his errand.

Minnie plays for about five minutes before she perks up, beaming up at you, “Mister Matt asks if you can open the door, please thank you."

Her statement throws you for a moment and you aren't sure how much you like the idea of her being able to tell you all these things. It scares you - her knowing things you don't and not knowing what she does know.

Maybe it is one of the things you and Matt can talk about - then talk about it with your sweet Mouse. You are going to have to get used to it, either way.

You push yourself into standing and motion for Minnie to come along. She scrambles up and runs out of the room, delighted laughter following her.

You are still in your clothes from the night before and you wish you had taken a moment to check your hair or even brush your teeth. You try to tell yourself it is fine, but your anxiety just argues back, and you feel like a complete slob by the time you get to the front door.

Your stomach and heart both do a funny clench at the sight of Matt, who is still sporting his borrowed shirt. You don't know if you want to fall into his arms or throw up or go hide under your covers so you can pretend all of this is a dream. Instead, you step aside so he can come inside and silently beg your mind to stop collapsing in on itself.

“Breakfast delivery,” Matt says as a greeting, his entire face lighting up with a smile. He's holding a bag from the shop around the corner in one hand and a drink carrier with two large drinks along with a small one in his other.

You can feel your face starting to heat up and force your eyes down to the ground, mumbling, “you didn't need to do that.”

He shrugs as he toes off his shoes, “I wanted to, and someone,” his voice turns teasing as he directs his next comments to Minnie, “wouldn't stop talking about bagels.”

Your daughter erupts into giggles, then turns and runs back towards the kitchen. Matt gives a pleased laugh, and your stomach flips again. He follows Minnie, and after you relock the door, you join them.

They are sitting at the dining table, Mouse watching with a big smile as bagels are laid out on the table. Matt narrates for both of you, “Three egg bagels with plain cream cheese, two large coffees, and one kid’s hot chocolate. Now, is that the right order or was someone taking advantage?”

Minnie giggles more and that relaxes your shoulders. “No, that's right. Thank you, you really didn't -” You cut yourself off as you realize the table is clear of any mess from the night before. There are no plates on the table or in the sink, there's no lasagna stains on the floor, there's no leftovers sitting out. Your eyes drift to Matt.

He must have cleaned after you had fallen asleep. Guilt courses through you - he shouldn't have to be dealing with your messes, especially in your own living space. You are going to need to not only apologize but return the favor somehow. You aren't sure how you'll do that - no one has ever done this much for you before, and Matt has done so so much in such a short time.

You're dragged from your thoughts as a coffee is placed in front of you.

“It's just black, I didn't know how you took it,” the kind, handsome lawyer says, and your heartbeat is so loud in your ears. It beats harder when you remember that not only can he hear your body and mind freaking out, but so can your daughter.

Your instinct tells you to panic at the idea of someone knowing that much about you. You always try to stay calm on the outside while having a meltdown, but that doesn't matter with him. He'll know you're a mess. You can't hide it.

You hear Matt ask Minnie something about her tea party and watch as she skips away from the table, but it's like your mind doesn't process it. You feel completely frozen because you don't know how to act - you don't know how to hide yourself from the man in front of you. You don't know how to hide yourself away from your daughter.

How can you protect her from yourself? Your own body?

Suddenly, Matt is in front of you, cupping your cheeks with his large, warm hands and whispering your name. He's practically right on top of you, gently rubbing his thumbs over your skin, “Hey, hey, it's okay. It's okay. Everything is okay. Can you take a deep breath for me?”

“What?” You ask, so confused about what is going on. You don't understand why he's saying it's okay.

“A deep breath, sweetheart. Can you take a deep breath?”

Your mind will not wrap the reason for the instruction, but you do as you are told. You inhale through your nose and that earns you a soft smile. He continues to pet you, gently instructing you to exhale after a moment and you obey.

“Again?” He prompts and you nod. You feel shaky as you try to focus on breathing. You've always hated these exercises - they've never worked for you and have only served to frustrate you, and now you are just trying to make sure you are doing it right. How embarrassing would it be to fuck up breathing in front of Matt?

“That's it,” he says so calmly, “Just breathe. I know it's a lot. I know. One step at a time. Let's have some breakfast, okay? Let's sit and have coffee and we can all talk. How's that sound?”

It sounds good, it sounds like the right thing to do, but your throat is clenching and not wanting to produce words, so you nod instead.

You close your eyes to try to center yourself and somehow calm down. Matt lingers, keeping a hold of you until you hear Minnie coming back to the kitchen. It seems like he waits until the last possible moment before pulling away.

Seeing your daughter looking so happy helps to reset your mind. She's fetched Scooby and Pig and runs up to the table to put them in their chair. You smile at the sight.

She really does seem like she's perfectly fine and maybe Matt is right and everything is okay. For now, at least.

You force yourself into action, moving to set one of the bagels in front of Mouse, setting it on a napkin. You're going to need to transfer the hot chocolate into a mug or Mouse will spill on herself.

“Thank you, Mommy!”

She practically dives into her bagel, picking it up and taking a big bite and getting cream cheese on her cheeks. She is completely engrossed with her food.

“Thank Mister Matt, he got us breakfast,” you advise before going to get a napkin. While you are in the kitchen, you grab your creamer from the fridge.

“Thank you, Mister Matt!” she chimes before barreling on. “Mommy, did you know Mister Matt can braid hairs!”

Guilt courses through you and you remind yourself you need to thank Matt for everything he has done for you. But you tell yourself to not think of it right now - you are terrified of Minnie sensing your panic and that somehow shuts your mind down and you go into parent mode.

“No, I didn't. Did you ask him to braid your hair?” You ask as you move in to wipe her face. She obediently tilts her face towards you and closes her eyes as you clean away the cream cheese. In the corner of your eye you see Matt sip from his coffee, a smile forming in his lips.

“She wanted puffs,” he advises, “I learned a lot of new hair terminology today. Minnie is a very good teacher.”

Your daughter preens at the praise before taking another bite of her bagel. More cream cheese gets on her face. You decide to wait until she's done eating before tidying her up again. It will be pointless otherwise.

Instead, you start to fix your coffee, removing the lid to add creamer. You eye your daughter as you do, letting yourself finally take in her appearance.

“You're a good stylist,” you tell Matt, and it is true. Her pigtails look even and as smooth as can be expected for a toddler. You don't see any tangles and if Minnie is happy, you have no grievances with the outcome - only guilt that Matt was the one who dealt with it.

“I have some experience,” he hums, before taking another sip of his coffee. Then he directs his smile to his daughter, “my best friend used to have long hair. He has little nieces and they used to do his hair at Christmas, and I got roped into helping. I'm told I do a pretty good French braid.”

Mouse giggles before gasping and pointing at you, “do Mommy's hair!”

Embarrassment floods you - you don't think anyone has done your hair since you were Minnie’s age, and your current hair is a gross greasy mess and you don't want anyone touching it.

Matt hums as he tilts his head towards you, “I think Mommy is better at doing her hair than I would be. But maybe next time?”

“Maybe next time,” you agree, hoping that will be enough to deter your daughter from this path.

Luckily, she quickly parrots, “Next time!”

You offer her a smile and take a much needed drink of your coffee. It not only warms you but helps to ground you back into reality.

You remind yourself nothing has actually changed - you are just more aware of the world. To Minnie, this is the same as any other day and you need to get yourself back on track.

Which means you need to confirm some things with Matt.

You set your coffee down, then pick up Minnie’s hot chocolate and bring it to the kitchen to transfer into one of her kid-friendly tumblers. You clear your throat, then dare to try, “Minnie said you'd be spending the day with us?”

“You told the froggy!” Mouse happily adds.

Matt looks confused for a few seconds before it must click, “Foggy, sweetheart, not Froggy. Foggy is my best friend - the one who had long hair.”

“Froggy!” Is the defiant response and you know better than to argue. Once something is named, the name sticks. But of course, Matt doesn't know this and you decide to let him learn.

“Foggy,” he tries. “Like a cloud. Not a frog.”

“Froggy!”

“Fog. Foggy. No ‘r’.”

“Frog. Froggy! Froggy! Froggy!” Minnie bounces in her seat, starting to giggle. You return to the table, securing the lid to the sippy tumbler before placing it down.

“Ribbit ribbit,” you add and that gets you a delighted burst of laughter.

“Ribbit ribbit!”

Matt practically pouts but seems to realize he isn't going to win this. “But yes, I… told Foggy I wanted to spend the day with you. When I was in the phone, outside.” His dramatic sad face turns into something soft as he tilts his head towards Minnie, “Did you tell your Mommy you heard me?”

“I, uh, asked if she could,” you say, feeling silly for admitting it. But you know this is the path you need to take to start understanding what enhanced senses mean.

“I can hear everything,” your little one proudly says, and you've heard her say it before - but now you know she isn't just playing pretend.

“Yes, you can,” is Matt's soft reply. Unlike your underlying panic, his voice seems to carry a fondness about the whole situation. He is the one with the experience and you want to trust him with the lead on this, but it's still absolutely terrifying.

But you know you need to set the ball up, so you gently push, “Did you know Mister Matt can also hear…everything?” You know it's not everything, at least by what Matt said, but you aren't going to get technical with a toddler. “Mommy can't, though. Mommy’s hearing isn't as good as yours and Mister Matt's.”

Mouse looks between the two of you, pursing her lips up as she thinks, then she reaches out and pats your arm comfortingly, “I'll tell you what I hears, Mommy.”

Your heart soars with so much love and you turn your hand so you can take hers and give it a gentle squeeze, “Thank you, baby.”

“I can hears a bark-bark dog and a woofy dog,” she starts, “and there's a puppy going ‘yip-yip-yip!’”

Matt laughs a little and your focus is ripped away from Minnie and over to him. He absolutely beams at you, looking proud as can be. You wonder what this like for him - having someone else who can hear what he can.

“There's a doggy day care about two blocks north,” he informs, and it is so hard to wrap your mind around the fact your daughter can hear that far. “Clients are starting to arrive, and they are lively.”

There's a flash of brown and Minnie is waving Scooby at Matt, “Bark bark bark!”

“Is Scooby a barky dog?” He asks, leaning forward towards her and putting his elbows on the table. “Not a woofy dog?”

“Bark bark!” Is the response before Mouse makes him growl. You finally allow yourself to sit and watch the sweet interaction. Everything still feels like it's too much and swirling inside you, but seeing Matt and Minnie bond is soothing - even if it's over something you can't understand yet.

“What about Pig? Does he go bark-bark or woofy?”

His question gets Minnie to gasp as if she's scandalized. “Pig isn't a doggy!”

“Oh, he isn't?” Matt teases, “I can't see him. What is he?”

“He's a piggy!” She snatches up Pig and clutches him to her chest beside Scooby. You hope she doesn't have cream cheese on her fingers because cleaning her toys is always an adventure. She hates when they have to get washed and now, you guess, you understand why. They probably smell different after being washed or the texture is off. It's something you'll have to explore later.

“What type of noises do piggies make?”

“Oink-oink-oink!”

“Oh, that makes sense,” he hums, then hunches forward more and lowers his voice, like he's talking in secret, “And what sounds do little girls named Minnie make?”

You finally get to take a bite of your bagel as you watch her contemplate the question. Her face screws up in thought before lighting up when she decides her answer.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo!”

Matt throws his head back with laughter, which makes Minnie dissolve into happy giggles. The sheer joy between the two of them pulls a smile out of you and the heaviness in your chest starts to lighten more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo?” You question and your daughter giggles more.

“Ooogie-boogie-boo! Like Scooby!”

You don't understand what that means but you just let the positivity continue.

“What about Mommy? What sounds do I make?” You ask, curious what her response will be.

“Bumbum-bumbum.” They aren't words, but you instantly get it is supposed to be your heartbeat. You feel yourself start to flush. Matt had told you that Minnie listens to your heart to ground herself, so of course that is what she associates you with. But hearing it from her mouth and getting that confirmation still rocks you.

“It's a good sound, isn't it?” Matt asks Minnie and you can imagine how red you are turning. You try to hide behind your coffee.

“The bestest,” Minnie agrees before adding, “After Scooby Song. Scooby Dooby Do! Where are you!”

“We've got some work to do now,” you half mumble, half sing with her.

“I've never heard the Scooby song,” the man beside you says and that triggers Mouse into action. She slides off her chair, and still clutching her toys, hurries across the room to the television. She knows how to bring up what she wants, so it only takes a few seconds before there is an episode starting to play on screen.

She drops her toys and the remote before running back to Matt and tugging on his - technically yours - shirt. “You gotta listen!”

He barely gets to stand up before being pulled into the living room. He does not resist in the slightest to being directed to sit on the ground and you watch as Minnie begins to explain the intricate lore of her favorite show. To your wonder she describes each character by their voice first and you can tell Matt is completely enthralled by what he is being told. Scooby gets moved from laying on the floor to being shoved into Matt's lap so he can hold onto him.

You realize without fanfare that you can barely hear the television. It is still on low volume from last time you had it on, and it dawns on you that you never really have it turned up too loud. Minnie can probably hear it just fine and doesn't need it blasting throughout the apartment. You never got to really watch television as a kid, and you wonder what the normal volume for watching things is supposed to be.

You sip at your coffee, watching as Minnie plops herself next to Matt on the floor, going on excitedly about mysteries and different sounds. Both of them are smiling and laughing like they don't have a care in the world.

This is what you want your life to be like, you decide.

You want your family to be full of love and joy and you have fought so hard to get to this point. You've climbed your way out of a cold and distant household to make your own little corner in the world and right now you need to enjoy it instead of letting your mind be taken over by darkness and despair.

So, you set your coffee down and move to join your daughter and her father in front of the television, asking in a teasing voice, “So who is the blonde man again?”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04 @ astridstark13

#soulie writes #fanfiction #daredevil #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock

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qierxing · 11 months

Text

A/N: For Trey's bday and also my brain can't stop thinking about this. I gotta go crazy(mera i'm stealing your naming of magicord thank u)

Prologue | Sex Doll! AU | Yan! Trey Clover x Reader TW/CW: Reader is a NEET, self harm idealization, bad coping mechanisms

You're attending your brother's wedding, right?

The text is simple and innocuous. It’s a perfectly reasonable question. There's no hidden sub context that your mother would leave in such a sentence. Yet it sends cold sweat running down your back as you begin to bite your nails anxiously.

Weddings meant people. People meant socializing and having to answer questions such as “So what are you up to these days?” or “Do you have a partner?” all while smiling and trying not to rip your own skin off.

You end up gnawing off a chunk of your nail off subconsciously, still stuck on the bright screen boasting the text message. Your thumb hovers over the textbox, unsure of what to even reply with that wasn’t a solid “hell no”. It wasn’t your brother or anything, and it would probably be nice seeing him again, but not when there’s the added pressure of other people and even worse, the subtle judgment that would definitely ensue at seeing your current form.

Sighing, you switch off your phone. You’ll come back to it later. Darkness claims your room again, but your sight’s adjusted well enough that you manage to avoid stepping on the various candy wrappers and instant noodle cartons littered around the floor. Pushing past the trash bags in the kitchen, you open your fridge and curse internally. Right. You ate the last frozen pizza from your stash. And of course, there’s nothing in your fridge besides milk.

You’ve no energy to go walking to the grocery store, so you lumber back to your room like a zombie, picking up your phone again and switching the tab to the maps to look at take out places. A Magicord message notification banner comes up, distracting you temporarily from debating which takeout place would be the cheapest to get delivery from.

{21:37}: ohhh my seven, look at what they release!d!! [image attachment]

The image boasts a handsome man with sharp green eyes and long curved horns. He’s smirking as he brandishes a large staff at the viewer. A familiar gothic logo is splayed next to the figure. You roll your eyes. Of course your friend is going crazy over the newest Twisted Wonderland android lineup. She’s been going on and on about how their models are the hottest designs around and how cool they were. She even has several around (Sea Witch knows how much it cost) if you remembered correctly.

{21:38}: whos that lol

{21:38}: COME ON ISN’T HE HOT

{21:39}: it’s literally a robot what

{21:39}: 🙄 can’t even appreciate hot looking robots smh

You huff a tired laugh at the enthusiasm she has, even at a relatively late hour. Still though, you’re much too drained and worried to indulge in her endless fangirling.

{21:41}: i’ll start appreciating robots if it means i don’t have to deal with my brother’s wedding

Just as you settle on a fast food place for takeout, another message banner pops up and makes your eyes blink and widen.

{21:45}: wait bet?

Oh Seven–

{21:46}: bruh. dont you dare do smth stupid

{21:47}: >:3c

{21:48}: i swear to the seven what r u doing

{21:51}: dw bout it

You squint at your messages with suspicion before deciding it wasn’t worth your time to play mind games with her. A notification pops up about your delivery and estimation time for your food and you decide to take a well needed shower before the poor unfortunate soul could come face to face with you.

When you finally leave the bathroom feeling somewhat better and refreshed, a knock echoes on your apartment door. Great timing. When you open the door, however, it’s not a person holding a plastic bag that greets you, but a man with a huge box next to him. Your mouth opens and closes silently in confusion as the man doesn’t even blink as he holds out a clipboard for you.

“Signature, please.” He blandly says, as if you weren’t standing there gaping at him with baggy eyes with dripping hair.

“I-I, uh, I didn’t order anything?” You try to reassure yourself that the delivery man messed up your neighbor’s order, calming the flaring nerves as best you can before your brain starts shutting down. “I think you got the wrong place.”

The man purses his lips and checks the clipboard. “Are you [First] [Last]?”

“Oh, uh, yes?” You’re taken aback. Did you order something off of Sam’s Shop and forget about it?

“Then it’s for you. Signature, please. I need confirmation you received the item.” The man looks bored out of his mind and you’re not willing to make a bigger nuisance of yourself than necesscary, so you hastily take the pen and sign your name in a barely legible scrawl. The man drones an insincere thank you out before turning on his heel and leaving right away, leaving you with a huge box that will no doubt break your back if you tried to pick it up.

After much sweat and puffing, you manage to scoot the box into your apartment hallway, before you give up and decide that was enough. Picking up your phone again, several notifications show up on your lock screen.

[Your food delivery is delayed by: 10 minutes]

{22:30}: teehee, enjoy the free gift UwU

{22:31}: and no its not the new malleus guy. i gotchu smth u would like

{22:32}: YOUR WELCOME

You have half a mind to call her and start yelling her ears off, but that takes energy and effort that you’re not willing to afford right now. So you rub the bridge of your nose and take deep breaths in and out, and remind yourself you can’t afford to be in jail for a murder.

Okay. It seems that your friend got ahead of herself and got you an android that you probably will hate and even worse, would be expensive as hell to maintain. That’s fine. This is fine. You could probably just return the box or something.

Still, curiosity burns in you at what lays inside the package. You’re well aware that Twisted Wonderland has a variety of models, so what did your friend even get you? Couldn’t be a RSA model, they were often sold out and when they were in stock, it was always limited.

Ah, screw it. Throwing your inhibitions to the wind, you scour your drawers to find that dollar store razor you keep for situations like these and start tearing into the tape and cardboard. Finally managing to clear the tape, you open up the top of the cardboard box and your eyes widen at the contents.

#yandere twisted wonderland #yandere twst #my works #blasting for your entertainment by adam lambert bc the lyrics fit the idea so well >:3c

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nicoline1998enilocin · 7 months

Text

Warmth

PAIRING | Sugar Daddy!Tony Stark x Sugar Baby!Fem!Reader

WORD COUNT | 1.1K

SUMMARY | You've been studying for your upcoming exam all day, and you're starting to get a little cold. However, the perfect way to warm up is by touching Tony's warm body, seeing how he's always running warm through the arc reactor. Of course, he's happy to share his warmth with you; he doesn't want you to feel cold.

RATING | General (G)

WARNINGS/TAGS | Sugar Daddy/-Baby arrangement, mutual pining.

A/N | This fic is inspired by this headcanon written by @fotibrit! As soon as I read it, I knew this would fit perfectly inside my sugar daddy!Tony AU! I love their dynamic, and I can't wait to hear what you all think about it. This is proofread by my amazing friend @ccbsrmsf1, for which I cannot begin to thank you enough! 💙

Banners: Yours truly | Divider: @firefly-graphics | GIF: @ccbsrmsf1

Main Masterlist | Tony Stark Masterlist | AU Masterlist

You're in the middle of studying for your exams, making long hours for a difficult one coming up. Going through medical school has always been a dream of yours, and thanks to Tony, that is becoming a reality, but that doesn't mean you don't have to work for it. He has kindly offered to study at Stark Tower so you can use plenty of empty offices and conference rooms.

This also means you're closer to him, and you can't stop yourself from seeing him whenever he's in the building. You've been studying for the past six hours, eating lunch, and drinking a lot of coffee in between, and you're starting to feel cold and restless - perfect timing to go and pay a visit to Tony.

"Jarvis, can you tell me where Tony is?" you ask the AI he has installed in the building, who kindly lets you know he is working in his lab. Your stuff is gathered quickly, and just before you can zip your bag closed, you let out a big yawn and a cold shiver runs down your spine. The weather outside looked promising, but jeans and a blouse weren't enough to keep you warm today.

As soon as your bag hangs on your shoulder, you're out the door, your feet carrying you to Tony on instinct. The elevator ride is way too long, and you're rubbing your hands on your arms to keep yourself warm, but to no avail. You feel warmth spreading through your body when you walk into his lab and see Tony hunched over in his MIT hoodie, faded jeans, and messy hair.

"Are you going home already, Sugar?" Tony asks in his deep voice, giving you goosebumps as the sound goes through your body.

"Not yet; I figured I'd swing by your lab to see how you're doing. And I was hoping to steal a bit of your warmth, too," you tell him with a small smile, unable to stop thinking how handsome he looks in his outfit. It shows off his natural handsomeness, and you can't help but stare a little too long when he turns to you.

"How can I say no when you ask me like that? C'mere Sugar," Tony says as he opens his arms invitingly. You drop your bag before stepping into his hold, your body pressing tightly against his as your face nuzzles into his neck. With a deep sigh, you let your hands wander to where they're under his hoodie, your ice-cold hands slowly warming up on the warm muscles of his lower back.

"You're freezing!" he says before he lets go, his hands carefully wrapping around your wrists to guide your hands to his chest - or, more specifically, to his arc reactor. It's where he gets the hottest and your favorite place to rest your hands when you're feeling cold. If there's one thing you both quickly learned, it is that where you usually are feeling chilly, Tony is always hot, making him your perfect personal heater.

A soft hum leaves your throat as you can feel the warmth of his body seeping into your cold hands, slowly ensuring they don't ache from the freezing state they were in before you came to him.

"Are you feeling better now?" Tony asks softly and gently, and you hum in response. If it were up to him, he would let you warm your hands on his body forever, never wanting to let you go again. Little does he know you feel the same way, but you're both too stubborn to admit it to one another.

"Yeah, I can do this all day if you'd let me," you tell him in response, another soft sigh leaving your chest when your hands aren't cold anymore. Though that issue has been fixed, Tony can tell you're still feeling cold, and without hesitation, he takes off his hoodie, exposing his muscular chest and abdomen to you, making you do a double take at the appearing flesh.

"Here, you can wear this, Sugar," he tells you without leaving room for discussion. You allow him to pull it over your head, the sleeves longer than your arms, making you giggle. The scent of Tony envelops you completely, and you flail your arms like a bird to show off just how long the sleeves are, and the sound of Tony's laughter makes yet another flood of warmth spread throughout your body.

"It looks way better on you than it does me, Sugar; I think you should keep it," Tony says, his eyes flicking from your eyes to your mouth and back. He steps closer to you, his index finger lifting your chin slightly to look right into your eyes as he closes the gap between you two.

His mouth descends on yours in a sweet, loving, gentle kiss that takes your breath away yet makes you feel so full of love. Your kisses are usually frantic and passionate when you sleep together, but this kiss is the opposite. Unrushed and soft; filled promises that neither of you is willing to give in to yet. It's perfection in a kiss.

The second his lips leave yours, it feels like you're deflating like a balloon, missing the feelings of his warm mouth on yours already. Despite this, a small smile tugs on the corners of your mouth as you bite your bottom lip, feeling like a teenager who just shared their first kiss with the boy she's been crushing on for a long time. And deep inside, that's exactly what the dynamic between you is, just in your later years.

"What was that for?" you ask Tony, who chuckles at your question.

"I felt like kissing you because you look adorable in my hoodie. And I wanted to surprise you, which, by the looks of it, worked pretty well," Tony tells you, and you nod.

"Now I have to go because I promised to go for dinner with my friends. But thank you for the hoodie. I'll be using it to keep me warm from now on," you tell him as you step back, grab your bag, and walk out of his lab with a wave.

All he can muster is a small wave back as he stands there shirtless and with a heart filled with love. He wants to give you all the happiness in the world and more, and if that means letting you warm your cold hands on his body and giving you his hoodies, he's more than okay with doing that for the rest of his life, even if that means never getting to tell you how he feels. Your dynamic is perfect for both of you, and he doesn't want to ruin it by doing something stupid.

Though the one thing he wants more than anything in this world is that you will be his one day. His girlfriend, his fiancée, his wife, his everything. That's what would make him the happiest man on earth.

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navybrat817 · 2 years

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Send Me an Angel

Pairing: Soft Dark Bartender!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Summary: Bucky thinks you're an angel. Word Count: Over 1.8k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, Dubcon/NonCon elements (you are responsible for your own media consumption) dirty talk, kidnapping, beginning stages of stockholm syndrome, Bucky Barnes (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: My entry for @the-slumberparty 's I Spy Challenge. I've included all three prompts in some way. Happy to get back into the soft dark pool! ❤️ Beta read by @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, Bucky edit by the incredible Nix, banner by the wonderful @sgt-seabass , and divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

It was early morning when you woke up alone in Bucky's bed. You only knew that based on the time from the clock on the nightstand since he had blackout curtains. You groggily wiped at your eyes to wake yourself up a bit more as you turned on the lamp. Caffeine would help if you had any.

Maybe you could convince him to bring you a drink if you asked nicely.

"Bucky?" you called out, your voice cracking as you began to sit up.

It took you a moment to remember that he wouldn't exactly hear you even if you yelled.

The familiar ache between your thighs stopped you from sitting up completely, the memory of the previous night imprinted in your mind. And every night since you went on your first date with the handsome bartender. While you had a feeling he'd be amazing in bed the moment you laid eyes on him, you underestimated his stamina.

Like the morning after.

You always felt a bit vulnerable when you showered, your guard down more than normal. It shouldn't have surprised you when Bucky joined you, but you still shrieked when he pressed you against the wall. You were sure you would've fallen if his firm grip hadn't kept you propped up.

"Round two and three weren't enough?" you teased as he traced the water droplets on your skin with his tongue.

"It'll never be enough," he answered, leaving a small bite on your collarbone. "I can't help myself."

"Bucky, I need to finish up and go," you moaned as he moved his hands to your ass, your traitorous body not putting up much of a fight.

"So perfect for me," he groaned against your neck, like he hadn't heard you. "You can take me again. I know you can. Just give me one more."

You did. You took all of him, just like he said you would. Like a good girl.

The sick thing was that part of you craved it.

Your heartbeat quickened at the sound of footsteps outside of the door. You learned that Bucky could be silent if he wished, so the deliberate sounds meant he wanted you to know he was there. It was considerate.

Or was it just a way to show that he was in control?

"Morning," Bucky said as he opened the door with a sheepish smile. "Sorry I wasn't here when you woke up. I wanted to surprise you."

You told yourself to smile back when he held up a small bouquet. Red camellias. The same flowers he gave you when he took you out to dinner. He even wore the same leather jacket he was wearing now.

How long ago had it been since he took you out?

You were losing track of the days.

"Thank you. That's very thoughtful of you."

His smile widened, pleased by your reaction. "I know it isn't a diamond necklace, but I thought you'd like them. They reminded me of our first date."

"I remember," you nodded.

You watched as he walked over to the nightstand and set the flowers down. He shrugged his jacket off a moment later and tossed it on the recliner in the corner. He liked to sit in it some days to read.

Or watch you.

Whatever particular mood he was in.

"Did you sleep okay?" he asked as he sat on the bed beside you.

"Just fine," you smiled, bringing a finger up to trace the tattoo on his neck.

Bucky Barnes had to be one of the most handsome men to ever grace this earth. Well over six feet tall with a buff frame and a glare that could kill, he seemed more suited to be a bouncer than a bartender. The tattoos and nose piercing added to his appeal. But it was his icy blue eyes that nearly made you spill your drink when he handed it to you.

Thankfully you recovered enough to grab a seat on an empty stool and flirt with him.

You didn't know it would change everything.

"Keep touching me like that and I'll have to ruin you."

"We can't have that," you joked.

"Why not?" he asked, taking your hand before you could pull it away. He looked into your eyes as he brought it to his mouth. Instead of kissing the top of it, he turned and brushed his lips on the inside of your wrist. "Your heart is racing."

"That's what you do to me," you said truthfully.

Out of lust. Fear. Both.

"That's what you do to me, too," he said.

To prove his point, he placed your hand on his chest.

You knew it beat for you.

"Did I tell you that meeting you changed my life?" he asked.

"It did?" you replied, even though you already knew.

You searched his expression anyway when he smiled. When you spotted him that first night at the bar, his grin appeared forced when he helped other customers. It never quite reached his eyes. He told you over dinner that it was a show for others, a mask to hide how he really felt.

With you, he showed a genuine smile and softer side.

One you believed you could trust.

"I wasn't in a good place. It's hard to explain, but I felt like I was drifting through my life," he began, moving his hand to tuck the sheet around your body more. You weren't sure when you began to tremble, but of course he noticed. He didn't miss a thing. "I was actually close to quitting the bar and leaving town when you walked up and ordered a drink. I wanted to ask you out right away, but I didn't want to seem like a creep."

He chuckled and ran a hand through his short, dark hair. You found excuses to go back to the bar more often and it still took him weeks to ask you out. You thought he was being a gentleman.

"I'm sorry you weren't in a good place," you said.

"Don't apologize. This path in life led me to you and I'll tell you more about it one day," he smiled, sliding his hand over the sheet until he stopped at your hip. "You know, girls have hit on me, even a few guys, but no one got my attention the way you did."

His insatiable nature told you as much.

"And your kindness. How you listened to me. Wanted to know me," he continued, a dreamy look taking over his features. "You showed me that angels exist."

Listening to Bucky was easy. He didn't brag about anything to try and impress you. When he spoke, you knew it came from the heart. Who wouldn't want to know him more?

Especially when he seemed so eager to know you?

"I'm not an angel," you stated.

You sucked in a breath when he gripped your chin. You didn't see him move. He was so quick. Always faster than you.

Stronger.

"You must be an angel because you saved me."

If I saved you, why am I damned?

"Isn't that what angels do? They save people, right?" he asked rhetorically. "Bring them joy? Hope? Love?"

"Love?" you whispered.

Is this love?

"Love," he smiled, releasing your chin. "An angel leading me straight to heaven. That's what it feels like when I'm inside you. Fucking paradise. My warm, wet paradise."

It stunned you enough to stay silent when he bent down to kiss your forehead, your walls clenching around nothing.

Why were you reacting to him?

"But I'm selfish," he admitted against your skin as a tear slid from the corner of your eye. "Because you're my angel and I can't share you with anyone else."

"So you still won't let me go?" you asked evenly.

With a sigh, he pushed himself and moved to the end of the bed. He carefully moved the sheet to expose your ankle and check the cuff. You weren't sure if he was inspecting to make sure you weren't injured or to make sure you hadn't tried to tamper with it.

Bucky convinced you to go back to bed after he had you in the shower that fateful morning. He even sweet talked you into letting him cuff you before he split you open on his cock. When you reminded him that you had to work, once you could talk again, he said he already took care of it.

You hadn't left his place since.

Maybe if you had been thinking with your head instead of your pussy, you wouldn't be his prisoner.

"You know I can't do that," he said above a whisper, tilting his head a fraction and covering your ankle again.

You didn't shrink back when his gaze settled on you, as much as you wanted to. You shouldn't have asked that. All things considered, he took care of you. The chain was long enough that you could reach the bathroom. He kept the place warm. There was plenty of food for you.

No weapons were within reach though. The lamp and clock were bolted to the table so you couldn't hit him with them. If he had neighbors, they didn't hear your cries for help. He promised he would always know if you were in danger since he had cameras set up.

That was why it took him weeks to ask you out.

He was preparing for you.

Was anyone even looking for you?

"But Bucky-"

"Don't. You're not leaving me," he snapped, pulling away the sheet he had carefully tucked around you moments ago. "This is your home now and I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe and happy."

Except give you your freedom.

What happened to you, Bucky? What demons plagued you so much that you think you have to keep me here?

"I'm sorry," you said immediately as his eyes raked over your naked body.

"You don't even like the flowers, do you?" he asked in a small voice.

"I love the flowers. Really," you promised. A bright spot in a dark place. "Maybe we can even recreate our date right here at home. What do you think?"

He considered your words as you gave him a hopeful smile. He hadn't hurt you and you wanted to keep it that way. If he was happy, you could be happy.

Wait. Why did you just think that?

"We can," he agreed in a husky tone as he stood up and unbuckled his belt. "But for now, let's recreate the end of our date. I need to make my angel feel good."

You blinked away tears as you opened your legs without being told. If you really were an angel, why couldn't you fly away? Why did you let him clip your wings?

And why weren't you fighting harder to get out of the cage he put you in?

Poor thing. Bucky will take care of you, right? Maybe we'll see down the road. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bartender!bucky barnes x reader #soft!dark bucky barnes x reader #soft dark bartender!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #navy and roo's sleepover #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you

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