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lowkeyren · 8 months ago

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drunk words, sober thoughts!

in which — “taking your boss home after he gets drunk for the nth time this week” wasn’t in your job description; but as emotions run high, would you still choose to resist his advances?

pairing — aventurine x gn!reader

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ — wc: 2.1k, consumption of alcohol (aven is drunk), he’s so down bad for u its not even funny anymore, topaz + jade cameo ;) reblogs w comments are appreciated! please enjoy <3

the persistent ringing of your phone jolts you awake, pulling you from the depths of sleep. groggily, you reach out, fingertips searching for the source of the disturbance amidst the darkness of the room.

with a grunt of frustration, you finally locate your phone on the bedside table. your eyes squint against the harsh glow of the screen, revealing topaz's name flashing insistently.

"hello..?" you answered, your voice thick with drowsiness.

"hey friend, sorry to wake you." topaz said, quickly getting to the point, "aventurine's getting wasted at the tavern here. can you come get him?"

you rub your eyes, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. "aren’t you at the tavern too? why can't you do it instead..." you don't mean to sound rude, but anyone's mood would sour if they were woken up in the middle of their slumber, right?

(and please just give me one night of peace, you want to add on)

but working as aventurine's secretary means there's barely ever any peace; you are constantly living a chaotic life, exhausted by his endless and, even more annoyingly, unpredictable shenanigans. maybe you shouldn’t have taken the position, but the pay and the view of his infuriatingly handsome face makes it all worthwhile.

topaz sighs. "trust me, i tried. but his stubborn ass is refusing to leave, i can't get through to him no matter what."

in the background, you hear your boss call out to you, “mmmh [name]... c'meeere” his words slurred from the effects of alcohol. it's clear he's drunk; way too drunk actually. is he that far gone? you aren’t even there.

it wasn't the first time he’s gotten this drunk, in fact he’s been drinking every other day lately —much to your concern. "alright, i'll be there soon." you reply, fully aware that his drunken antics would inevitably lead to a splitting headache.

"thanks. he's in pretty bad shape." topaz adds just as another slurred whine of your name cuts through the background. “...ugh, and please come quick” she hangs up before you can respond. you sigh again, throwing off the covers, and quickly dressing yourself before making your way to the tavern.

it looks like your night’s just getting started, because this is just another reminder of how taxing it is to clean up after your endearingly troublesome boss.

as you step through the entrance of the tavern, your eyes scan the crowded space until they land on aventurine. he’s slumped over the counter, his head resting on his folded arms, and an array of empty glasses scattered around him. you notice topaz isn't beside him, and just as you reach for your phone, a notification pops up from her.

"jade called, i have to go." fantastic, now you're stuck playing babysitter to your incredibly drunk boss all on your own. isn’t this just adding insult to injury..? you put your phone down, and make your way over to the counter, mentally bracing yourself for what’s to come.

aventurine, whose cheeks are flushing from too many glasses of ale, immediately perks up when he catches sight of you. his posture shifts slightly, a clumsy attempt to straighten up. despite his dishevelled appearance and obvious inebriation, a sloppy grin spreads across his face; his usually sharp eyes now hazy, but his gaze remains unwavering.

“sir, it's time to go home. you’ve had enough for tonight.” you say firmly, your expression deadpan, the exhaustion in your system weighing heavily on you. “sweetheart... *hic* i missed youuuu," he slurs, words drawn out and muddled, the alcohol coating his tongue with each syllable.

aventurine’s bleary eyes struggling to focus as they fix themselves on you, it’s evident he has it much worse tonight. “mmh sweetheart, have i ever told you just how gorgeous you are?" his words linger in the air; though your expression remains indifferent, you can feel a subtle heat rising up your neck.

you hate how he has this effect on you, it shouldn't stir such feelings, especially given his role as your boss. though no matter the amount of times he effortlessly (re: shamelessly) slips endearments into your conversations, you can still sense the warmth bubbling up inside you —much to your dismay.

“yes sir, for the fourth time this week. and don’t try to distract me—” before you can finish, aventurine stumbles forward and envelops you in a tight embrace, the overpowering smell of alcohol engulfing your senses. his lips inches away from your ear, the proximity borders on suffocating in its allure; he rests his chin on your shoulder, his breath hot against your neck, stirring a rush of conflicting emotions within you.

you hadn’t had anything to drink tonight, so why are you feeling hazy, your head swirling with jumbled-up thoughts, and your body unexpectedly warming up? you fight to maintain your composure as aventurine holds you close, his grip unyielding.

“ahem… sir please release me immediately. ” you manage to say, your voice trembling slightly, cringing at your own words as it didn’t come out as stern as you had hoped.

aventurine seems to hesitate for a moment, his grip loosening ever so slightly, but he doesn't let go completely. “no… no sir, i’m not your sir” he mumbles, his words muffled against your shoulder.

two weeks ago, you would've redirected his attention firmly, steering clear of any personal entanglements that could complicate your working relationship. two weeks ago, you would’ve dismissed any hint of intimacy, and suppressed the flicker of attraction beneath layers of practicality and duty.

now, however, your resolve falters as you stand enveloped in his embrace. the logical arguments that once guided your actions seem distant and irrelevant compared to the raw, magnetic pull of his presence.

in the face of his vulnerability, your defenses too crumble, leaving you grappling with conflicting impulses and unspoken desires —so you decide to indulge just this once.

“aventurine. there, happy?” you can feel his heart racing against yours, a syncopated rhythm that mirrors the tangle of emotions swirling within you. the line between professionalism and lovers has always been blurred between you. but now as his arms encircle you and his warmth seeps into your skin, it seems near impossible to define.

perhaps, all along, it was his intention for that line to fade away, to be erased completely.

he doesn’t respond with words, but instead holds you tighter, as if seeking solace in your presence. his name escapes your lips in a soft murmur, “kakavasha…?” the sound of your voice rings in his ear, lingering in the air like a whispered prayer.

he seems to delight in the way you utter his name, evident by how he savours each syllable like a rare delicacy. you take his silence as your cue to continue, clearing your throat, “unfortunately the chauffeur is unable to make it at this hour, so i will—”

he cuts you off by releasing you from his grasp, yet keeps you ensconced in his arms, ensuring you face him directly. in the dim light, you finally get to see his flawless features up close for the first time tonight.

“i love you.” his words hang in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless.

he stares into your eyes, a whirlwind of emotions surge within you. caught off guard, you let out a chuckle, unsure if his words are genuine or if he’s merely attempting to charm his way out of a situation again.

“i bet you tell everyone that.” you shoot him an unimpressed look.

he pauses for a moment, his hands finding a comfortable place on your back before pulling you closer to him. “i do.” he nods in confirmation, his gaze steady on yours.

“i tell everyone that i love you.”

your heart skips a beat, actually no, you think you stopped breathing the moment those words left his mouth. does he know how much he tugs at your heartstrings? though you can’t help but wonder if he'll regret everything when he sobers up tomorrow.

“aventurine, you’re drunk.” you say softly as you divert your gaze. "yes, and you’re everything i’ve ever wanted." he moves his free hand up to gently cup your cheek, eagerly waiting for the moment the room stops spinning so he can focus on your face again.

the world around you collapses the instant your eyes meet him again, it feels like he's baring his soul to you, grounding you with his touch, his presence. you gently place your hand over his that rests on your cheek, your voice barely above a whisper. "let's get you home first, and we can talk about this when you're sober."

“alright sweetheart, whatever you say...” he drawls out with a tipsy cadence, punctuated by his tightening hold on your back. you huff out in feign annoyance before grabbing his hand and dragging him out the tavern.

you navigate through the night with a very drunk aventurine leaning heavily against your side, his arm draped around your shoulder for support. “ugh you’re impossible when you’re drunk…” you chide with a playful roll of your eyes, half-supporting, and half-dragging him along. “please be reminded to give me a raise when this is over.”

aventurine’s occasional laughter punctuates through the quiet night, drawing the attention of a few late-night pedestrians who smile knowingly at the scene. and you swear you caught a glimpse of silver-white hair as you pass by an alley, maybe the lack of sleep is really taking a toll on you.

“you’re lucky you have a pretty face to make up for all this mess you’re dragging me through.” you remark subconsciously, only to be interrupted by him abruptly stopping in his tracks. he looks at you with a sheepish grin, cheeks still flushed.

“…you think i'm pretty?”

you jab at him, maybe you should give him a few more while you have the chance. after all, he probably won't remember any of this tomorrow, right?

okay maybe aventurine wasn’t lying when he said he tells everyone that he loves you. (and apparently “everyone” includes his coworkers too)

the constant dinging of your phone makes you seriously consider launching it out the nearest window. you open the group chat and stare incredulously at the avalanche of texts flooding your screen.

[topaz sent an attachment]

seems like you weren’t hallucinating last night, topaz really was there —and she managed to snap a picture of you and aventurine.

“topaz?? i thought you had an emergency with jade”

“nah lol, jade was in on it”

“hope you had a great night dear, and make sure to let us know what happened~”

“you guys are menaces i swear!!!!”

before you can gather your thoughts, a pair of familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling you gently against his solid chest. you tense up, part of you wanting to melt into his hold; and despite your better judgement, you instinctively lean into him.

"so, what's the deal with you getting plastered every night?" you tease, momentarily forgetting about the texts as you turn your focus to aventurine.

“what else other than drowning out my sorrows over you, sweetheart.” he quips, sneaking a quick peck on your cheek, which you dodge just in time.

“seriously? all those drinks were because you thought i wasn't into you?"

“hmm, yeah pretty much so.” he admits, truly his shamelessness knows no bounds.

“then i guess it’s about time you learn how to handle your losses.” you jest, nudging him as he raises an eyebrow, a mischievous glint in his eye. “there’s no need. i'll still tell you that i love you tomorrow, the day after, and every day after that until you finally let yourself believe it."

aventurine will wait for the day you accept him, more than just your boss; he will wait for the day you whisper those three words, not just into his ear, but into the very depths of his heart. he will be there, patiently, until the day your soul finally speaks the truth that his heart has always known.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

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©lowkeyren 2024. please do not plagiarize, translate, repost on other platforms, or feed my works into ai.

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unhingedgirlythings · 10 months ago

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FUCK IT

SUMMERY : Reader gets her date interrupted when Hotch calls up asking for her to get to the BAU. Reader rushes over still dressed up and a certain dr can’t keep her eyes off her teehee.

Tags:fem reader , a huge amount of awkwardness, reader is over her love life

A/N: I WANTED AWKWARD SPENCER REID, bare with me tho cuz I haven’t written a fanfic since I was 13 and it was horrible so please be kind and let me know your thoughts :))) enjoyyy.

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You were used to your phone ringing at the WORST possible times, I mean with your job that was something you just had to prepare yourself for. Serial killers don’t take a break just so you can have a girls night out or take a nice relaxing bath after a long day. Although never in your life did you imagine the wave of relief that would wash over you as the all too familiar ringtone blared from your phone. Normally you would groan and feel your body grow more exhausted whilst hesitantly picking up the phone, but not tonight. Nope. Fortunately for hotch, you couldn’t have answered the phone faster. “what’s up” low and behold hotch was on the other end requesting your presence ASAP!

You tried to hide your glee as you glanced over at the douche-ist blind date that the great quote on quote “matchmaker” of the century Garcia, had raved on about the week before. To be fair the date didn’t start off bad, it was actually the most decent one you’ve had yet. Honestly you were ready to finally praise Penelope for actually finding you a decent man to take your mind off the unrequited school girl crush that you had on a certain “kid” genius. somehow you escaped the dude who clearly was stuck in some frat boy mindset, well not without some snarky comment made towards you which you shut down a little harsher then needed but seriously you couldn’t hold back anymore, you had no idea what possessed Penelope into thinking you would EVER consider going home with the king of fucking douchebags (most likely the biceps and tight clothing that the man sported). Nevertheless here you were speeding down the freeway, thinking way too hard about your love life completely blanking and forgetting to drop by your apartment to quickly change into something more work appropriate.

Before you knew it you’ve parked your car, walking into the cold air. A shiver runs down your body and the shock hits you when you realize. Here you are in a little skimpy black dress that clings to your curves in “just the right way” according to Penelope before shoving you out into your car heading to that horrible excuse of a date, “ahh shit. Fucken seriously! Of course this is just my luck … I mean at least I look good” groaning and mumbling to yourself, you make your way into the building. You knew Hotch would be understanding, I mean you never know when you’re gonna be called in and it sounded urgent so yeah, sometimes you and your coworkers walk in with inappropriate work wear. You will never forget the time he called everyone in at god knows what time, Spencer had walked into the room with his pjs sporting a fluffy dress robe, you seriously thought someone was going to have to perform cpr on you that night.

Walking into the building in heels was definitely a pain in your ass, but you managed as you pushed the briefing room door open. A low wolf whistle from Derek Morgan was the last thing you needed right now “damn sweetheart, who knew you could clean up so nicely“ As you make your way into the room, you playfully roll your eyes at him.“haha very funny” you cringed as everyone’s attention was now drawn to you. while taking a seat next to JJ, wishing to be wearing literally anything else “Sorry Hotch, i came straight from..” you hesitate for a second, glancing around before continuing “A date, but this sounded important so I didn’t have time to change”The stoned faced man simply nods at you “It’s fine. You're here, right now we have a lot to cover” He starts debriefing the team, leaving no detail out of the case, no matter how brutal, you tried your hardest to give him your unwavering attention, but you could feel someone’s eyes on you. And out of the corner of your eye see him. Spencer.

His stare was hot and intense, and fuck was it making you become a flustered mess. You glanced at him from your peripheral trying your best to be subtle about it, it was getting harder and harder to focus on Hotch and the case, not Reid. But when his puppy dog eyes drifted up, down and all over your body, your body involuntarily reacted, slightly squirming in your seat. Before you could stop yourself, your eyes turn and lock onto his gorgeous brown ones, a smirk graces your lips as he finally notices your eyes now on him. Looking like a kid being caught with his hand in the cookie jar, he turns pink from the embarrassment and shame of being caught, and god did that make your head spin. Now it was his turn to awkwardly squirm in his seat while staring at Hotch with all his attention. You giggle under your breath at his fumbling awkwardness. Before you know it everyone around you starts to pack up their things and stand up, leaving you confused. Of course you spent the whole debriefing paying so little attention to the case and more on Spencer.

Sighing, you pull the hem of your dress down as you stand trying to save yourself from even more embarrassment. “soooo how did it go? Was he as yummy as you’d hoped?” Garcia wraps her arms around yours as you try not to stumble down the stairs towards your desk “you, my love are officially banned from meddling in my love life” you could already hear the trail of complaints bouncing around in her head as you plopped down onto your desk chair, reaching for the new case folder hoping to catch yourself up before take off in the morning “aww come on I for sure thought you’d be jumping his bones, all those rippling muscles, who In Their right mind could resist” the thought of the man you had seen a few hours prior put a foul taste in your mouth, causing your face to scrunch up in disgust “he was a complete dick, he legit referred to himself as an “alpha male” AN ALPHA ,Only thing I wanted to jump , was off a building at that point” a defeated look from her was all the conformation you needed, no longer were you going on blind dates, and your love life was back to being non existent and sad “sorry Pen I tried, I really really tried, you just have horrific taste in men like my god do we need to get you some help. These guys are basically human garbage” whilst looking up your eyes naturally drift and settle on Spencers desk frowning as you watch him, his heads buried in the case file whilst obsessively jotting down notes like some multitasking god, your heart couldn’t help but pine after his more, the looks you shared moments before didn’t help your case either. Resting your chin in the palm of your hand, you drag your eyes away trying to spare yourself from going into one of your Spencer Reid spirals. You look up at Penelope already disliking the pitiful look she was giving you “are you sure your ready to give up?, I mean I know this cute guy who would be super into you, he's just your type “the new voice startled you, turning in your seat you’re met with Emily smirking down at you whilst leaning against your desk inserting herself into the conversation with JJ beside her “wow ok fun, are we all just gonna just dive head first into my personal life?, don’t we have a case to work on?” trying to deter the subject of the conversation off of you was a bust, as the women you call friends gleam down at you with a shared look “yeah no this is too entertaining to sit out on.” you couldn’t believe you were having this conversation right now, letting out a groan you leaned back in your chair covering your face in hopes of hiding the redness in your cheeks “sweetheart, what you need is a good ol one night stand, get a certain pretty boy out of your system” if you weren’t already melting into a puddle of embarrassment, you definitely were now “Morgan shut up please for the love of everything holy”

you could only pray Spencer wasn’t paying attention to the little group that was forming at your desk, maybe he was being good and reading the case file like the rest of them should be doing but of course luck wasn’t in your favor tonight “what are we talking about?” Before you could shut the whole conversation down Morgan happily answered Spencer “oh, we were just discussing Y/L/N’s love life. I think she needs a good root, what do you think?” that stupid smirk Morgan was happily wearing was enough to make your blood boil, now you truly wished to disappear “ok ok that’s enough” you shoot up from your seat avoiding any eye contact with Spencer not wanting to see his reaction to your humiliating red face “conversation over, my love life is going back to being non existent, thank you for your concern but it’s over, officially dead so no more talking about it.” you snatch the file off your desk ready to get the hell out of whatever situation you found yourself in “i'm going home to at least get some sleep before we leave tomorrow or I’ll be a zombie all day” with that you hastily made your way out of the building and into the cool night air once again.

wrapping your arms around yourself in hopes to provide some warmth, you slowly make your way to the car park. Before you could make it to your car you could hear foot steps getting closer and closer until they were right behind you, stopping along with yours once you had reached front of your car. Quickly spinning around you slam them onto the car's hood, arm in your hand, face down and pinned.

“Ow ow ow ow Ow!” Shit. It was Spencer. The man you’ve been daydreaming about and here you were pinning him to the hood of your car. “oh shit sorry, my god, don’t walk up on me like that holy shit Spence you scared me” you pull away off him whilst letting go of his arm and backing away a little. Spencer lets out a hiss of pain as he pushes himself off the hood, rubbing his arm to try and relieve the pain “sorry I was just trying to make sure you got to your car safely. It’s late a-and” he looks at your dress whilst clearing his throat looking away awkwardly “are you ok? you seemed upset in there” he looks back at you whilst giving you a smile that made you wanna pass away on the spot “yeah I’m ok, just having your dating life put on full blast in front of the team like that can be a tad embarrassing” silence was the only response you were met with, you glance up at Spencer trying to think of something, anything to say in this moment “you look really nice by the way, it’s unfortunate your date turned out that way.” His eyes meet yours, your breath gets caught in your throat as heat creeps up your neck to your face “t-thanks” tugging on the hem of your dress you smile sheepishly “not the most comfortable outfit, honestly wish Pen let me wear my sweater but you know”

“Penelope” you both say, you giggle as Spencer chuckles. “Oh by the way, I thought you may want these, may help a little tomorrow” he hands you the notes he took from the briefing, Your fingertips brush against his, the feeling of warmth from his hands sends a shiver down your spine. “Thanks Spence. I appreciate it” you stand there longer than needed before you start to turn away from him. “You know, that even though there aren't any hard statistics, it’s roughly estimated that every 1 in 3 or 4 blind dates actually end up as a success” he rambles on, looking back at him you try to pay attention but you can’t stop your eyes from sifting down towards his lips “so there is a chance” his voice fades away as his words become background noise and your thoughts become louder and louder, all you could think about was him, the feeling of wanting only grew stronger with each passing minute. It didn’t help that his lips were tempting you, calling you in. you couldn’t hold yourself back much longer, will power growing weaker and weaker “fuck it” your body moves before commen sense had its time to put a stop to whatever ridiculous thoughts you had muster up, suddenly your lips press onto his without thinking it through. It was short and one sided yet sweet, the faint taste of coffee and sugar overwhelmed your senses

The sudden realization hits you hard as you push yourself off Reid, the feelings of regret and fear settles itself in your stomach making you feel sick “Sorry I wasn’t thinking, shit sorry, forget that happened ok” you back away keeping your eyes glued to the ground in fear that you’ll look up and only see rejection written on his face. What in the hell possessed you to do that?, why the fuck did you do that, the only reason you kept your feelings shoved down was to protect your friendship with Spencer, nothing meant more to you then the bond you both shared and now you’ve ruined it and for what? A stupid kiss? “wait, uh No no it was just unexpected I didn’t hate it actually quite the opposite” your head snaps back up at a red faced flustered Spencer Reid “don't apologize“ his warm hands warp around your cold ones as he steps closer to you once again “did you um maybe want to try that again? Only if you want to though I don’t want you to regret anything” you giggle as he starts to nervously stumble over his words, this time more confident in your actions your lips find his for the second time tonight.

The taste of coffee meets your lips again as your body relaxes into the kiss, which is very reciprocated this time. The warmth radiating from Spencer chases the cold night air away. As your bodies shuffle closer together. you both hesitantly pull away from each, you wanted to stay here in this moment for as long as possible but of course your bed was calling your name along with the early flight departure. “I should go” you really didn’t want to “I know“ his hands stayed on your waist for a moment before slipping away “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow” the sweet look on his face drove you crazy, the urge to say fuck it and stay with him for the remainder of the night was overpowered by the sleepless night before, you settle for placing a goodnight kiss on his cheek instead “night Spence” winking you open your car door and make your way in, you turn the car on and roll the window down to call out to him as he backs away with a smug smirk on his face “sweet dreams pretty boy” with that you drive away replaying the events of tonight in your mind, god you couldn’t wait to get the case over with so you could finally have a date that wasn’t going to end in ruins, especially with the man you’ve been crushing on since your first day, yeah no you weren’t going to get any sleep tonight now.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!readr #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader

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inklore · 7 months ago

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middle of the night.

— kenji sato x f!reader

premise: it doesn’t matter how many times you try to convince yourself that you’re done with him you always end up back in his bed.

contents: exes with benefits, p in v, tiny bit of plot, oral, alcohol consumption, booty calls, slight toxic relationship | wc: 1k+

note: went into this movie already down bad for him and came out of it even worse. i had to write something for him, i'm obsessed.

“Baby, come on.” You can tell from the deep bravado of his voice that he’s been drinking. That he’s had one too many more than he really should have allowed himself. That something clearly went south at some point during the day that had made him grip the glass of liquid poison until he was tipsy enough to let go of the day's frustration and call you.

His inhibitions always lead him back to lighting up your phone at late hours of the night.

Your own endless cycle of your lack of impulse control has you staring down at the screen of your phone, determined, grounding your feet at the line you had drawn in your attempts to not answer his calls again.

Ever again.

"Kenji, it’s never going to work.”

“But it feels so good when it does.”

“I can’t keep doing this.”

And yet you end up scuffing up that line you drew in the sand as you step over it and answer your phone. Each and every time.

“Just come over. We can just talk.”

“Kenji,” you sigh. Both of you know that ‘just talking’ has never been a strong suit for either of you. It was hard to just talk when his mouth was between your legs or your face was pressed into his pillow.

“I promise. I just want to see you, please. I’ve...” he swallows. Maybe he takes a sip of whatever has his mind hazed and slipping into old habits. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

His voice, when it’s like this, gravelly, raw from the liquor he’s consumed, low and almost needy, always makes your insides burn. Always makes you forget how to breathe.

And then he’s sighing; it’s breathy, and you can hear ruffling, like he’s situating himself against the back of his couch or removing something—clothes, his pants, images of late nights with him leaned back against the cushions of his couch, his legs splayed open for you to sit prettily in front of him, your lips teasing the tip of his cock, making your cheeks heat.

Making you swallow hard. Close your eyes. Try to ground yourself. Try to list all the reasons why you should not go over to his house right now.

It’s never a good idea.

Never.

But no and Kenji Sato never went into the same sentence in your brain, and maybe that’s a bigger problem than your resolute “fine” through the phone.

“Just to talk.”

“Just to talk.” You can hear his smirk through the phone. “I can’t wait to see you, baby.”

And you know, as you hang up the phone, as you put on your shoes, as you get into your car—before you even answered the phone—that the last thing the two of you are ever going to do is just talk.

That’s why when you show up at his place, when you knock and he opens the door barely seconds later, that curve of his mouth, his hand reaching out and gripping the bottom of your shirt, “Hi, baby.” Rolling off his tongue like a siren song to your insides, it is no surprise you are pressed against the back of his door seconds later.

His mouth on yours, his hands everywhere. Pulling at your clothes, pulling you closer to him. His hair falling in your face in that way you’ve missed so fucking much. That you have grown addicted to feeling when he’s on top of you and thrusting between your legs.

“Knew you missed me too,” Kenji groans when you fall to your knees and take his cock in your mouth. His teeth in his bottom lip as he looks down at you like you own his world. His very being. Like he doesn’t know pleasure unless it’s given to him by you.

A feeling you know too well in regards to him.

And you don’t tell him differently. Because yeah, you did miss him. You always miss him. That’s why you can never stop these visits. Never say no to him. Even if the two of you will always be the right person wrong time, every time you think it will be different. That your heart might actually be a little more safe than the last time.

It doesn’t matter, though. You know that when his palm grabs the back of your neck to pull you up from your knees, his thumbs pressing into the side of your jaw as he brings his mouth down on yours—nothing matters but this. How good it feels. How good Kenji feels, how good he makes you feel, how much the two of you love each other even if he’s bad at it.

You need him to fill your lungs with air when he pushes inside of you, his thick cock filling your tight cunt, that heavy breath of relief he lets out as if nothing has felt as right as this. As you. Under him. Digging your nails into his lower back as he thrusts into you. As his mouth bites and sucks at your neck.

As his hand snakes between the two of you and presses his thumb against your clit. Your legs tightening around him. Your cunt tightens around his cock, your moans become more breathy, panting into his mouth as his tongue licks into yours.

“Yeah, baby. Come on. Come on, give me it.”

And you do. You come and come again when he puts you in a different position—when his mouth is hot and wet at your shoulder blade. When his fingers grip your hips and pull you back, his hand pushes down on the base of your spine to have your ass push up higher for him. To allow him to go deeper until you’re gripping the sheets and seeing stars.

“Fuck, that’s my girl.”

By the time he pulls himself from your wetness, his fist moving against his cock fast and hard, your arousal still slick against him, making the lewd noise burn your cheeks. Your body heating back up as you watch his brow furrow. “Look at me, baby, look,” he says breathless as he paints the mound of your pussy with his come. You know reason will never mean anything. You’re his, and when he calls, you’ll come running each and every time.

#kenji sato x reader #ken sato x you #kenji sato smut #ken sato smut #kenji sato x you #ken sato x reader #ultraman rising #kenji sato x y/n #ultraman fanfic #kenji sato fanfic #laur writes ultraman

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majestyeverlasting · 2 years ago

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A Little Less Restless

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (friends to lovers)

Summary: As Bucky finds himself within the still familiarity of Brooklyn, he comes to realize that he deserves nice things. And, most of all, that he deserves you.

Word Count: 2k

A/N: I haven't posted any new writing in a bit, and it feels good to be resolving that (yay me). Please enjoy this piece I wrote today. Lot's of fluff and very obvious feelings. It's been a while since I wrote something for him. <3

Three knocks sound on Bucky’s front door as his reflection stares back at him in the bathroom. He's leaning close to the mirror in careful criticism. Enough to see the green flecks in his irises. The freckles on his cheeks from being in the sun. The pricks of hair making up his scruff. Then he eases back and squares his shoulders. They fall after he releases a breath.

He prays he doesn’t look as restless as he feels.

The smile you give him when he answers the door carries a warmth he isn’t sure he deserves. But he takes it because that’s all he can do. Enjoy it like a man who’s been cold his whole life. By some miracle, he feels himself smiling back in that small, weighted way of his. It was a trade off of sorts, and now you’re even. No outstanding debts.

He motions you inside with a soft please, and you study him once you’re in the foyer. In the few seconds that you’re silently observing, Bucky wishes he knew exactly why. As tender as your gaze is, heat was already rising to his cheeks. But like everything else when it comes to you, he takes it. Looks right back at you shyly, pushes his hands into his pockets, and waits.

“Your hair’s shorter,” you finally say, smile growing wider. “Did you cut it?”

“Cut it,” he repeats like a question, hands moving to run through it. The previous night creeps back to the forefront of his mind.

When he’d gone for a walk to get some air and inadvertently found himself being drawn in by the red, white, and blue barber’s pole spiraling on the next block. It’d been ages since he’d gone to a professional, but walking inside to the faint scent of tobacco and aftershave made him feel as though he’d never stopped.

“Mhm,” you hum, certain.

The stumped look on his face vanishes like it was never supposed to be there. “I went and got it trimmed at a place called Ricky’s last night.”

“And you forgot that quickly?” Next thing he knows, you’re wrapping him in an embrace, peeking up at him after a few seconds, “I’m teasing.”

He squeezes you back tighter.

It’s you who eventually pulls away, and he finds himself trailing you as you venture deeper into his apartment, eyes roving thoughtfully. A coffee table now complements the couch in the living room. The walls are no longer bare. At long last, the space was beginning to look more like a home.

For the longest time, Bucky had only seen it as a place to rest his head after countless assignments that took him miles away. It didn’t need to be anything special, or so he thought. One of the first things you told him upon coming into his life was that he needed a constant. A place to come back to that he could make his own. That was his. He’d spent so much of his life serving other people and belonging to other people that he was finally learning what it meant to be his own.

It was exhausting not being halfway across the world with a task to busy his mind. Brooklyn was still in comparison. A place where he could recognize street names, faces, point out buildings that used to be something else when he was a kid. And now there was you, who made being stateside worthwhile in a way he didn’t think was possible. He realized then, how much he’d deprived himself of meaningful connections outside of work.

“It looks great in here, Buck. What’d I tell you?” Your earnesty is genuine. Makes him, as old and borderline cynical as he is, feel special. “You’re gonna have to start inviting me over more.” You shoot him a wink, and he freezes because of the weight of the implication. If you notice, you don’t say anything.

A few months ago you’d been strangers crossing paths. Then acquaintances. Now friends who cared about each other a whole awful lot. Only, it was more obvious on your end. He kept most of his sentiments guarded, not yet ready for them to bleed out like an open wound. It didn’t help that you were always wielding a knife, coming closer and closer to cut through the wall he built around himself.

“You can come over whenever you want,” he says. “I’m always here.”

“When you’re not on assignment,” you add. “And I know. I just don’t want to scare you away.”

Bucky frowns at the suggestion, but his lips eventually turn up. “Good thing you’re not a scary person,” he says, counting on earning a laugh. Something.

And you do, right before shaking your head. “I’m serious.”

“You couldn’t scare me away,” he assures.

You nod slowly. “So how’ve you been?” There’s something else lingering on the tip of your tongue, so he waits it out. It ends up punching him right in the gut. “You look…I don’t know.”

It hadn’t been all too long since he’d come back from Morocco. Only a week. And it would be a while before he was sent out anywhere else. His mind was in the constant process of drifting to the type of thoughts all men sifted through when they have nothing but time. Those regarding purpose, belonging, and meaning. Not to a deep, crippling degree, but enough to make him want to spring into some sort of action. Find something to indulge in that wasn’t saving the world.

Bucky swallows and shifts his weight. “Restless,” he offers. “Didn’t think you’d notice.”

“I’ll always notice.” Silence stretches between the two of you and a siren wails in the distance. “Maybe we can go out tonight, just you and me. Is that something you’d wanna do?” The question sounds shy.

What you didn’t know quite yet is that he’d probably do just about anything if it was with you.

***

At the end of the night, it’s Bucky who pulls out his card and pays for dinner. Not even giving you the chance to think about digging into your purse. As an old tune continues playing overhead, your grateful eyes sparkle at him from across the table.

Neither of you had dined here before. It’s one of the places Bucky said used to go by a different name and was run by a different family, Italians. You liked listening to him talk about what once was because it made you realize just how much he knew. Just how thoughtful and reverent he was when it came to the good memories he had.

Being listened to so intently was new for him. But he enjoyed it. Especially when you’d ask questions or bring up a point he made further back in the conversation. By the time the waiter comes back around with his card and his copy of the receipt, the two of you are basking in the memory of the evening and thinking about what the rest of the night may hold.

“This was really nice,” he says, folding his napkin and setting it aside on the table. Then his expression becomes consumed by a certain solemness. “I don’t know how well it comes across, but I need you to know that I appreciate you. A lot.”

Your heart nearly bursts. “I know, Bucky,” you promise. He still looks unconvinced, so you extend your hand face up on the table for him to take. “I know.”

The cab ride back to his place is quiet. You hold onto his hand the whole way, relishing the feeling of his thumb tracing back and forth over your skin. It’s a gesture that says I’m here with, I’ll be here as long as you’ll have me. Brooklyn passes by in rushes of darkness peppered with light. Pedestrians walk alongside the streets, some holding hands just like the two of you. It isn’t long before the driver pulls up alongside the curb of the complex.

It isn’t until you’re in the elevator that you’re sure that you want to stay.

The two of you get off at the fifth floor.

“Is it okay if I spend the night? If not, I completely understand. I know it’s such short notice,” you ramble as he’s turning his key into the door. He hopes you don’t notice the way he falters. But part of him knows you do. You don’t miss anything. Luckily for him, you’re just as fazed by your own question, holding your breath.

It’s not until you’re inside that he graces you with an answer, “‘Course you can.”

Your shoulders drop in relief. What you’re not expecting is the laugh he tries to bite back. Maybe it was mean of him, but he liked knowing he could make you sweat. Sometimes it seemed like it was only ever you who made him openly anxious.

“You’re terrible,” you accuse, failing at restraining a smile. “Absolutely horrible.” You’d forgotten to throw away an empty water bottle before you left, and it’s the closest thing you’re able to throw his way in retaliation. He catches it and tosses it in the trash himself.

Mischief written all along his smile when he starts towards you.

Partly scared and partly excited, you think to flee at the last second. After a few measly steps, you’re being pulled back into the firmness of his chest. He’s sure enough laughing now, the vibration rushing straight into your back right along with the warmth of his body. So are you. He only has one arm secured around your waist and, despite the fact that he’s not even trying, it's enough to hold you.

“Wait, wait, wait—hold on a second!” your words come out giggly both because you’re anticipating some sort of attack, and because he’s never held you quite like this before. Unlike a normal hug, this feels like he has you rather than you having each other. It’s vulnerable. Dizzying.

“You win, you win!”

“What?” he laughs in surprise. His mouth is so close to your ear that you shiver. “Thought you had more fight in you than that,” there’s a playful warmth to his words.

You shake your head in denial and relax back into him. You didn’t stand a chance of winning unless he let you, and you were more than willing to tap out early. Because even so, you were still in his arms at his mercy, and somehow that felt like the safest place to be. By the time you realize both of your laughter has faded to a thoughtful silence, he’s pressing a featherlight kiss to the shell of your ear.

When he lowers his arm from around your waist, you turn around to face him.

There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. He suddenly looks boyish, younger. Having crawled out of whatever shell of crushing expectation and responsibility he usually resided within.

When he cups your face and presses his lips to yours, his shoulders relax and his breaths slow. And for once, he indulges. In you. In the prospect of having someone to lean on and being leaned on in return. It’s a reminder that he’s allowed to experience nice things. To have a life to look forward to outside of lending himself to cause after cause.

You’re soft, and warm, and everything good a person could be. He pulls away slowly after a while, blinking down at you with heavy eyelids. You’re looking right back at him like he’s the world itself.

“Maybe you’re not so terrible,” you whisper, smiling.

Of everything he was feeling now, restless wasn’t one of them.

Thank you so much for reading! I promise I see every like, comment, and reblog and appreciate them all very much.

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homeofthelonelywriter · 10 months ago

Text

Drawn to you | Pt. 1

(A/N) My first Alastor fanfiction. Let me know if you want another part!

Pairing: Alastor x bunny demon!Reader (no Y/N)

Warning: fluff, talk about death, mentions of Alastors human life activities (iykyk)

Synopsis: Alastor had never felt the need for friends, or something even deeper. But now that you're here...what is that feeling in his chest?

Everyone was gathered in the hotel lobby as Charlie was going through a new trust exercise. Angel had tuned out a long time ago and Husk didn’t even come out from behind his bar. The only ones actively listening were Vaggie, Nifty, and Sir Pentious. Alastor, similarly to Angel was physically there but not paying any attention.

Instead, his mind was focused on his radio broadcast comeback. What would he talk about? Who’s screams would he share with the other sinners?

A timid knock brought him back to there and then, as his eyes met Charlie’s. Hers were bright and sparkling, anticipation clear.

“A new guest, a new guest, a new guest.”

The words left her in a sing-song manner as she started to skip towards the front door. But Alastor held out his cane to stop the princess.

“Please, don’t let this interrupt this very important exercise. I will gladly see to whoever is at the door. As is my job, of course.”

His signature smile widened, almost in a desperate way. Anything to get out of this group therapy.

“Ah, of course, Alastor. Thank you.”

With that, Charlie turned back towards the rest of the group and continued to talk, but not without glancing back a few times, to watch what was going on.

As soon as the princess agreed to let Alastor handle the newcomer, he used his shadows to teleport himself over to the door, before energetically swinging it open. His mouth opened to speak his practiced welcome, but no words came out.

His eyes landed on you and he felt his mouth dry up. You were…cute.

“H-Hi. I hope I’m not bothering anyone, I…I heard about the hotel and w-wanted to ask if I-I could help?”

The demon in front of you kept staring without uttering a single word and you started to grow worried. Maybe you shouldn’t have come. Maybe they didn’t need any more people working here. Maybe they didn’t even want anyone else working here. Maybe this is all just a huge front for something really sinister. Maybe…

Alastor blinked, once, twice, three times before something pulled him out of his stupor. His eyes snapped to the top of your head, where your long ears had started to twitch while you were overthinking.

“Ahm…”

Alastor started but was quickly cut off when Charlie appeared beside him.

“Hi! We’d love your help! Come in, come in!”

The princess quickly grabbed your hands and pulled you inside, leaving the stunned overlord at the door. You smiled at her energetic display, but couldn’t help but glance back at the sinner, dressed in red, still standing at the door. By now he was slowly closing it before he turned to look at you.

Being caught staring, you quickly averted your gaze and instead focused on what the demon beside you was saying. She introduced you to the others, before she whisked you away, to show you around. Alastor was left in the lobby, mulling over what had just happened.

“Looks like someone left you speechless, huh Smiles?”

It was almost terrifying how quickly Alastor whipped around to glare at the spider demon.

“Would you like to repeat that, Angel?”

Loud static filled the lobby and Angel shrunk in on himself, muttering a quick apology before running to his room. Alastor sighed and fixed his bowtie, asking himself what had gotten him so worked up. His mind only answered with a single image. You, at the door, looking at him, hope in your eyes.

With a quiet growl, Alastor teleported himself to his radio tower. At least there he would be able to find some peace. Or so he thought. He had barely sat down when he heard a familiar voice outside the door.

“And this is Alastor’s radio tower. Do you see this light? When this is on, he’s in the middle of a broadcast and you really shouldn’t disturb him. Just in general, if he’s in here, only disturb him if really necessary. Honestly, I think that’s something that applies to him in general.”

The last sentence had Alastor up on his feet and in front of the door in a split second. He swung it open, his signature grin wide.

“Ah, the newbie.”

He grinned down at you, his grin faltering slightly as he watched you shrink away. Still, he carried on.

“Would you like a tour of my studio? It’s small, but it is mighty.”

Had Alastor spared Charlie a look, he would’ve noticed how her eyes lit up and she started nodding.

“I think that would be wonderful!”

Charlie gently shoved you towards the door.

“I have to get back to the others. Would you finish the tour after the…tour? Just show her to her room, that’s all that’s left.”

Alastor nodded, before placing his hand on the small of your back and gently ushering you inside.

“Of course, consider it done.”

Charlie thanked him, before hurrying back to the lobby.

Once Charlie was gone, Alastor closed the door and turned to look at you. He was about to say something, but the moment he noticed the amazement in your eyes, he lost the words he was about to speak. Instead, he let you look around, walk up to his console, and trail your fingers over the buttons and levers.

This was his holy space. Somewhere where not even the princess of Hell was allowed to enter. But you being here? That just felt right. He continued to watch you, and for the first time in his life, both on Earth and here, he felt something like…love.

“Do you like it?”

His voice was soft, the static almost completely gone. You turned to look at him and after a moment of hesitation, you nodded.

“When I was alive, I used to work in a radio station. I wasn’t a host, but I wrote scripts and corresponded with listeners. I loved it.”

Alastor’s smile turned genuine as he slowly walked toward you.

“May I ask where you worked? In which city?”

You chuckled and turned back to the controls.

“New Orleans.”

Alastor halted in his movements, staring at you with wide eyes.

“A-And when did you die?”

His hands were shaking. What if…?

“Not too long ago. I think one, maybe two years ago.”

Your response caused him to release a breath of relief. If you had died closer to his lifetime, there would’ve been a good chance you knew of his doings and for some reason…he didn’t want you to know. Didn’t want you to fear him, to think of him with disgust in your heart.”

“Well, it seems we’re connected in some ways. I too worked in a radio station in New Orleans! However, I did pass quite some time before you have.”

You look at him, a soft smile on your face.

“That’s too bad. I would love to have met you on Earth.”

He grinned and stepped closer to you.

“Well, you’ve met me now.”

With practiced grace, he reached for your hand and brought it to his lips, ghosting a kiss onto your knuckles. You could feel your cheeks heat up at the gesture and quickly tried to change the topic.

“So you still have a radio broadcast down here?”

Alastor chuckled at your reaction before straightening to his full height again.

“I sure do. Although I did have to take a break. I’m currently working on my comeback if you’d like to help me.”

You nodded, excited at the prospect of working in radio again.

The two of you sat down together and started working, not noticing how late it was getting. By the time either of you realized what time it was, it was well past midnight and both your bellies were grumbling with hunger.

“My oh my, we truly got a lot done. How about some well-deserved dinner, my dear?”

You nodded and accepted Alastor’s hand, and before you knew it, you were standing in a different room. Half of it looked like a standard hotel room with a couch and table, but the other half looked like a forest. A forest you knew all too well.

“Couturie Forest.”

Alastor chuckled beside you.

“You are right. That forest was one of my favorite places when I was alive. I couldn’t resist the urge to bring it here as well.”

You smile at him.

“It’s beautiful.”

With a genuine grin on his face, Alastor offered you his hand, before leading you to the small dinner table that stood inside the forest. He pulled out your chair, before pushing it back in.

“What are you in the mood for, cher?”

You thought for a while before you named one of your favorite dishes. And with a snap of his fingers, it stood in front of you. Your eyes went wide as the smell invaded your nose.

“How…?”

“Well, let’s just say this is a part of my powers?”

You chuckled, before taking a bite, and an almost pornographic moan left your lips.

“Alastor, this is so good!”

His grin widened as he sat down opposite from you, also taking a bite.

The two of you made small talk while you ate, mostly talking about New Orleans and what had changed since Alastor had died. Even after both of you were done with the food, you continued to talk until you could no longer keep the yawns at bay.

Alastor chuckled and snapped, and the dirty dishes disappeared.

“Let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

He gently helped you to your feet and with his hand on your lower back, he led you out of his room and across the hall, where an empty room waited for a guest.

“There you go, cher. This is your room, to do with as you please.”

He opened the door and gently ushered you inside.

“But for now, you should go to sleep.”

Once again, he captured your hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, before looking up at you.

“Good night, dear.”

You smile at him sleepily.

“Good night, Alastor.”

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Hazbin Hotel - Masterlist

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puffins-muffins · 4 months ago

Text

Control - The Reunion

Pairing: Jax Teller (AU-ish) x FemaleLawyer!Reader

Word Count: 7,008

Summary: Years after leaving Charming, you’re drawn back into SAMCRO’s world as Opie calls on you for help. When you come face-to-face with Jax for the first time in a decade, the undeniable tension between you resurfaces, stirring old emotions you thought you’d let go of.

Warnings: 18+ only please, cursing, Jax being a cocky shit.

A/N: Y’ALL!! The support this little fic of mine has received over the past week has made my Charlie obsessed heart SO HAPPY! I appreciate each and every one of you. So here’s part 2. Also! Not a lawyer and am relying on Google for lawyery things. This is my first Jax/SOA AU-ish fic. This one’s going to be a slow burn, I hope you stick around. Feedback - likes, comments, & reblogs are greatly appreciated. Beta'd by just myself, all mistakes are my own. Please enjoy! 💜

Part 1 - The Beginning

It had been nearly a decade since you left Charming, distancing yourself from the chaos that once consumed your life. A career opportunity had pulled you back to California just over a year ago, far enough from the ghosts of your past but close enough to feel the danger of reopening old wounds. In that time, you’d built a reputation as one of the top defense attorneys at your firm, becoming known for your relentless drive and sharp instincts. The sacrifices—the people, the memories, the pain you walked away from had seemed worth it as you carefully crafted this new life.

That afternoon, you were engrossed in case files, mentally preparing yourself for the courtroom. Your phone buzzed on your desk, and you glanced at the screen, noting the unfamiliar number with a familiar area code. Charming.

You froze, heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you answered, “Hello?”

There was a pause, a beat too long before you heard a voice that stirred old memories. “Hey… it’s Opie.”

His voice was unmistakable, carrying the weight of years and the unspoken bond you once shared with him and SAMCRO. You sat up straighter, your pulse quickening. You hadn’t heard from Opie in what felt like a lifetime, and yet, hearing him now, everything came rushing back—the long nights, the brotherhood, the laughter, and the pain.

“Opie,” you said, your voice softer, filled with uncertainty. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, it has,” he replied, his tone thick with emotion. There was no small talk, no easing into it. “Look, uhh—I didn’t wanna bring this to you, but I didn’t know who else to call. It’s about Jax.”

You felt your chest tighten. Jax.

“He got arrested,” Opie continued. “Murder charges.”

The words landed like a punch, knocking the wind out of you. “Murder?” you echoed, barely believing it.

“It’s bullshit,” Opie rushed to explain. “The cops have had it out for him for years. You know how it is in Charming. They’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this, and now they’ve got it. But… we think it’s serious.”

You leaned back in your chair, closing your eyes for a moment to gather yourself. Jax. It had been years since you thought about him, really thought about him. But now, hearing that he was tangled in something like this, old emotions began to stir. You’d worked hard to bury those feelings, to keep your life separate from what you left behind.

“Opie,” you began, trying to keep your voice steady, “why me? I’m not part of your world anymore.”

There was a silence on the other end, then he spoke, quieter now, more earnest. “Because we trust you. Jax… he needs someone who will fight for him. You’re the best. I’ve known you were back in California for a while now, just didn’t say anything—cause I respected why you left. But the things you’ve done in court, we need someone like that. He needs someone like that. And to be honest, I—we, only trust you.”

You felt a pang in your chest, hearing the desperation in his voice, the weight of the trust they were placing in you. For a moment, you thought about hanging up, walking away would be the smart thing, but deep down, you knew you couldn’t ignore the pull of Jax Teller.

“I’ll look into it,” you said quietly, the words coming out before you could stop them. “But I’m not making any promises, Ope. This isn’t—”

“I get it,” Opie interrupted, his relief evident. “I get it. Just… thank you. I’ll send you the details.”

Hanging up, your mind raced. Jax was trouble, and he’d always been trouble. No one else in the world brought out your impulsive side the way he did. It was part of why you left, to escape the version of yourself that couldn’t say no to him. You’d always been careful, meticulous, and in control—except when he was involved.

Opie’s text pulled you from your thoughts. As you read over the sparse details he’d sent, that familiar instinct to defend kicked in. You ran a hand over your face, feeling the weight of the decision settle heavily on your shoulders. You had been strong enough to stay away before, but could you live with yourself if you didn’t at least try to help him now?

Finally, you let out a slow breath, the internal battle subsiding as resolve took over. You grabbed your phone again, the decision made.

“Liz,” you said, as your assistant answered. “I need you to get me everything you can on the Sons of Anarchy MC—contacts, history, whatever you can dig up. And find out where they’re holding Jackson Teller.”

The words were out, and there was no going back.

As you hung up, a familiar feeling settled in your chest. It was the same reckless rush you’d felt so many times before, the pull of something you knew you shouldn’t do but couldn’t resist. And no one, not even you, could ignore it when it came to Jax.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You walked into the San Joaquin precinct like you owned the place—every step deliberate, every movement dripping with confidence. Eyes followed you, whispers rippling in your wake, but you didn’t bother acknowledging the attention. You didn’t need to; your presence said enough.

Sheriff Trammel glanced up from his desk, his eyes narrowing as he processed the sight of you. First came curiosity, then something resembling shock. “Well, I’ll be damned,” he muttered, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t expect to see you around these parts. What brings you back? Visiting an old friend?”

There it was—the assumption, the lazy attempt to place you in a box marked the past. You almost smiled. Almost.

“I’m here to see my client,” you replied coolly, eyes sharp as they met his.

Trammel’s brow furrowed for a moment before he connected the dots. “Your client?” He blinked, caught off guard. And then it hit him, the change in his expression obvious. “Jackson Teller?”

“That’s right,” you confirmed, tone even but with a bite just underneath. “I’m his attorney.”

His smirk dropped, irritation replacing it as he straightened up, arms crossing over his chest. “Well, ain’t that a surprise,” he drawled, clearly trying to reassert control. “You do know what he’s been mixed up in, right?”

You didn’t miss a beat. “I know exactly what he’s involved in. What I don’t know is why he’s been stuck in an interrogation room for hours without at least a phone call.” Your voice was razor-sharp, no patience for his games. “If you need a refresher on how this works, Sheriff, I’ll be happy to provide one.”

Trammel’s jaw ticked, his attempt at authority slipping. “You don’t know how we do things around here,” he warned, voice dropping as if that was supposed to scare you.

“And you clearly don’t know who you’re dealing with,” you shot back, leaning in just enough. “You’ve got no grounds to hold him without due process. Now, unless you’re begging for a formal complaint and the inevitable walkout, I suggest you let me see my client. Now.”

A heavy silence followed, the tension between you palpable. Trammel stared at you, clearly weighing his options, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew you weren’t bluffing. With a tight-lipped sigh, he finally nodded to the nearest officer.

“Take her to Teller.”

As you followed the officer down the hall, the adrenaline that had been pushing you forward settled into a more focused determination. You had anticipated pushback, but this? They were dragging their feet, hoping to keep Jax trapped in a system designed to work against him. It only fueled your resolve.

When the door to the interrogation room finally opened, Jax was slouched at the table, looking more worn than you’d ever seen him—his face harder, the weight of his life etched into every line. But despite the exhaustion, that familiar glint of defiance still burned in his eyes. His gaze flicked up to meet yours, and for a second, time seemed to stop. His eyes widened, disbelief flashing across his face as if he wasn’t quite sure you were real.

“Jesus,” he muttered, sitting up straighter, his voice rougher than you remembered. “You?”

You stepped into the room, the door clicking shut behind you, your eyes stayed locked on his. You saw the momentary relief there, quickly buried beneath a mix of surprise and confusion.

“Yeah, me,” you said, keeping your tone steady, even though being in the same room with him again after all these years aroused something deep inside you.

As Jax took you in, his gaze locked onto yours with a slow, deliberate intensity. He leaned back in his chair, his movements unhurried, as if savoring the moment. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, just enough to send a rush of heat through you. It was the same look that used to drive you wild, but there was something more now—an edge, an awareness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before.

His blue eyes raked over you, slow and searching, like he was taking in every change, every part of you that had evolved since you last stood this close. But underneath the layers of disbelief, there was something familiar—a hunger, a pull that had never truly disappeared. His gaze lingered, appreciating the woman you’d become, and for a moment, it felt like the air between you crackled with electricity.

"Never thought I’d see the day," he murmured, his voice low, rough, sending a shiver down your spine. His eyes stayed locked on yours, the smirk deepening as he leaned forward just a fraction. "So, you’re back… for me."

His words oozed his signature swagger—seductive, teasing, but laced with an undercurrent of something darker. The way he looked at you now, like he could strip away every layer you'd built up over the years, made your pulse skip. There was a heat between you, undeniable, the tension from the past flickering back to life in an instant. Despite everything, despite the time and distance, Jax still had that maddening ability to make your heart race, stirring up emotions you’d long since tried to bury.

You narrowed your eyes, refusing to let his attitude slide. “I’m here because Opie called,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended, trying to ignore the flutter of your chest. “This is business, Jax. So, the quicker you drop your cocky bullshit, the quicker I can figure out how to get you out of here.”

That damn smirk deepened, his head tilting in that familiar way, a glint of mischief flickering in his eyes as if no time had passed. “Cocky, huh? You sure you’re not just remembering how much you used to—”

“Don’t be disrespectful,” you cut him off coldly, your voice like ice, laced with a warning. There was a flash in his eyes, the playful arrogance dimming slightly.

His eyes scanned your face like he was searching for cracks in your professional façade, trying to find the girl he once knew beneath the hardened version of yourself standing before him.

You sighed, fighting the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re not special, Jax. You need a defense, and Opie called in a favor. That’s it.”

Jax tilted his head, eyes glinting with mischief. “Sure, that’s all it is. No way you missed me, right?” His lips curled into that signature smirk, the one that used to unravel you in ways you’d never admit.

Your jaw tightened, refusing to give him an inch. “I didn’t miss the chaos or the danger. But I’m also not about to let your recklessness pull you under.”

The smirk stayed, but his gaze darkened, his voice lowering a notch. “Recklessness, huh? Funny, I remember a time when you didn’t mind that part of me. Actually, you really kinda liked it.”

He leaned in just enough to make your pulse quicken, eyes narrowing as they raked over you, searching for any crack in your armor. “Or maybe,” he said, voice low and taunting, “you’re just too scared to admit you’ve still got a soft spot for Charming…and for me.”

Pausing, his gaze lingering on your lips for a breath too long. “Maybe you’re afraid you’re not over me.”

You slammed your notebook shut, the sound slicing through the thick tension. “I know what you’re trying to do.” You paused, struggling to suppress the old feelings he provoked within you, heat flushing your cheeks. The way his gaze lingered on your lips sent a shiver through you. He was pushing you, just like he did all those years ago.

“This isn’t about feelings, Jax! It’s about saving your ass. If you’re too proud or too stupid to let me help, I can walk out that door right now and you can rot here. I promise you that I have better things to do with my time.”

The room went silent. Jax studied you, the playful glint in his eyes finally fading, replaced by something closer to frustration, maybe even hurt. His cocky grin faltered, though his guard remained firmly in place. “Yeah? You’d walk out?” His voice was lower now, more serious, his disbelief still evident. “After all the shit we went through. Color me surprised.”

You held his gaze, standing your ground. “You walked away from me first, Jax. Don’t forget that.”

For the first time since you walked into the room, he didn’t have a snappy comeback.

The tension hung between you, thick and unresolved, as the weight of the past settled in the silence.

And as you stared at Jax, your mind wandered, taking in every detail of the man in front of you. He looked different now—older, more mature, but no less magnetic. In fact, the changes had only made him more striking in a raw, rugged way. The boyish charm that used to come so effortlessly was still there, buried beneath the exhaustion in his eyes. His blonde hair, slightly shorter now and slicked back, showed streaks of silver. The faint peppering of gray in his beard only added to the hardened edge that framed his jaw. He was still strong, still the same powerful presence, but there was a heaviness to him now, like the weight of his choices had settled deep into his bones.

Despite the roughness, despite everything the years had taken from him, Jax Teller was still undeniably attractive. The kind of man who could make your heart race with just a glance—the dangerous pull he’d always had, only now more potent. The way his blue eyes seemed to pierce through you, the way he carried himself, the confidence that bordered on arrogance, it was all there, all of it pulling at you in ways you didn’t want.

But this wasn’t the Jax from those carefree days at the park or late nights at TM. The version of him who used to tease you relentlessly, making your pulse quicken, had been worn down by the life he chose. The violence, the betrayals, the loss… it was all written on his face. For a moment, your resolve wavered. The dangerous temptation to fall back into old patterns, to get too close again, tugged at you.

And then Jax broke the silence. “Yeah, but you actually left.”

That stopped you in your tracks. The accusation in his voice, the weight of it, hit hard, settling in the pit of your stomach. This version of Jax was ruthless. The room was heavy with silence, both of you staring at each other, years of unspoken hurt rising to the surface.

But you weren’t about to let him flip this on you.

“I left,” you repeated, the words sharp, “because there was nothing left for me. You made your choice, Jax. The club, the women… you chose that life over us. You knew it, and so did I.” Your voice hardened, fueled by years of buried frustration. “Don’t try to put this on me like I’m the one who abandoned you.”

He didn’t respond, but his eyes remained locked on yours. You could see the struggle in him, the way his jaw tightened, the way he fought back against what you were saying.

“So yeah,” you continued, your voice steady, “I left. I chose a life where I wouldn’t have to wonder if the next phone call I got would be someone telling me you were dead. You know, like my father.”

The words landed hard, slicing through the air. You saw the flash of pain in Jax's eyes as he stiffened at the mention of your dad. And for a moment, neither of you said a word, but the truth had to be spoken—it was the reason you left, the reason you couldn’t stay in that life.

“I built something for myself. And now I’m here, trying to help you, despite all of that. So maybe it’s time you stopped acting like a shit and let me do what I came here to do.”

His eyes stayed on yours, but now they weren’t filled with that teasing cockiness anymore. There was something deeper, something he wasn’t quite ready to admit.

Finally, Jax let out a slow breath, his shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He leaned back against the wall, breaking eye contact for the first time, the weight of your words settling over him.

“I guess I just never thought you’d actually go,” he muttered, voice quieter now, the defensiveness finally giving way to something more vulnerable.

For the briefest moment, you almost let the softness in his tone get to you, almost let it bring up the memories of the man you’d once loved so fiercely. But you couldn’t afford to go there. Not now.

You straightened your spine, shifting back into lawyer mode. “Well, I did. And now I’m back, for this. So, do you want my help or not?”

Jax glanced up at you, his expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a resigned nod, he finally dropped the bravado completely.

"Yeah, Pep” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need your help.”

And just like that, the wall between you shifted. The weight of his words, and that damn nickname—it hit you in a way you hadn’t anticipated, like a suckerpunch to the gut, and a rush to your chest, stirring up memories you’d buried deep.

For a split second, the weight of everything between you seemed to vanish, replaced by a memory of a simpler time. You swallowed hard, fighting to stay steady, and nodded once, flipping your notebook open again, determined to stay in control.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You could feel the weight of the eyes on both of you, the tension thick between the rows of onlookers. It wasn’t just another day in court; this was the opening move in a game of chess that would decide whether Jax would spend the next decades of his life behind bars.

He stood tall, his posture relaxed, but you could see the strain in his face, the way his jaw clenched tightly as the judge read over the charges. Murder. Conspiracy. And the bail—the Judge already threatening to keep him behind bars. It was a deliberate message, one meant to keep him locked up and out of the way. One you knew too well.

You glanced at Jax from the corner of your eye, noting how composed he seemed despite the gravity of the situation. But then again, that was him—always steady, even when the world was falling apart around him. Still, you caught the tension in the way his hands gripped the edge of the table, knuckles white.

The DA wasted no time, framing Jax as the leader of a violent motorcycle gang, a man entrenched in crime, a threat to society, and someone with every reason to flee. It was the narrative they always spun, but it still landed heavily in the room.

The judge leaned forward, his gaze heavy with scrutiny. "Given the serious nature of the charges against you Mr. Teller," he began, his voice measured, "I am inclined not to grant bail."

A subtle ripple of murmurs moved through the room, but you didn’t flinch. You lived for this part—standing in the line of fire, fighting for your client. This was what you were born to do.

Clearing your throat, you stepped forward, your voice steady and sure. “Your Honor, I understand the gravity of the charges, but Mr. Teller is not a flight risk. He has deep ties to this community—his family, his responsibilities, and his roots are firmly planted in Charming. He operates a successful business that helps rehabilitate recently released inmates, providing them with support and job opportunities.

“I’d also like to submit a character statement from former Chief Wayne Unser of the Charming PD, which corroborates Mr. Teller’s commitment to his community and the positive contributions he has made over the years. He has shown unwavering dedication, and there’s no reason to believe he would abandon those responsibilities now.”

As you approached the bench to hand the document to the judge, you could feel the tension in the room, but you weren’t finished.

“Furthermore, Your Honor,” you pressed on, “there is a glaring lack of concrete evidence provided by the prosecution at this time. What we have here is more of a narrative than a solid case. My client is being painted as guilty by association, rather than through any real proof. The due process he’s entitled to has already been compromised by rushed charges and incomplete evidence. Denying him bail under these circumstances would be fundamentally unjust.”

You could sense the weight of the room shifting, the prosecution casting quick, uneasy glances at their notes, preparing a rebuttal. But you weren’t going to let them get the last word.

“All we’re asking for, Your Honor, is the opportunity for Mr. Teller to continue living his life while we prepare his defense. He’s not going anywhere, and the absence of substantive evidence speaks volumes.”

The judge sat back, contemplating your argument, and you braced yourself. His eyes flickered to Jax briefly before returning to you.

"Bail is set at $500,000," he finally declared, the gavel heavy in his hand. "And Mr. Teller will surrender his passport."

The decision came down like a hammer, the thud of it reverberating through you. You glanced over at Jax. His expression didn’t waver. No flinch, no sign of surprise, just a small nod, as if to say, ‘We knew this was coming.’ His eyes met yours, steady and calm, while the weight of the judge’s words hung in the air.

You swallowed hard, regaining your focus. There was no time to react, only to plan. Your mind was already turning over the next steps, fast and sure. You’d have to move quickly now.

And just like that, court was adjourned. The room erupted into murmurs as people filtered out. But you stayed put for a moment, watching as Jax was cuffed again, his wrists bound in front of him. He met your eyes briefly, a flicker of something passing between you. Trust? Maybe. Or maybe it was that same pull—the one that made it impossible to stay away, no matter how much you tried.

You exhaled slowly, gathering your things, the weight of what’s next pressing down on you like a storm brewing just on the horizon. There was so much left to prepare for, so much at stake.

As they led Jax away, he gave you a small, almost imperceptible nod. You returned it, knowing that this was just the beginning. You would do what you came here to do—protect him, defend him, win this case. But as you watched him disappear into the hallway, the past, as always, lingered too close for comfort.

As the last of the courtroom's noise faded, you found Jax seated in the small holding area, his posture tense, arms resting on his knees. He glanced up as you approached, a flicker of frustration in his expression as he leaned back against the wall.

“They’re really putting you in a tough spot with that bail,” you said, your voice calm despite the frustration you felt.

“Half a mil,” Jax muttered, shaking his head, a bitter edge to his tone. “They want me to fucking rot in here.”

You shifted, standing a little closer. “Are you able to cover the 10%? Fifty grand?”

Jax gave a slow, skeptical shake of his head, running a hand over his beard. “That’s the problem… I don’t know if we can pull it all together in time. The club’s tapped from all the heat we’ve been under, and most of my assets are tied up in shit I can’t touch right now. I’ve got some, but I don’t know if it’s enough.”

You crossed your arms, thinking through the logistics, trying to calculate how quickly you could move things around. It wasn’t just about the money—it was about timing, resources, and connections. You looked at him, the weight of his doubt hanging in the air. He didn’t like feeling helpless, and you hated seeing him like this.

“I’ll call Opie,” you said after a moment, your voice steady, full of resolve. “We’ll figure something out.”

Jax met your gaze, eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to gauge how serious you were. “And if we can’t?” he asked, the vulnerability in his voice barely masked.

You didn’t blink. “We will,” you promised. “I’m not letting you sit in here any longer than you have to.”

He watched you for a long moment, his skepticism giving way to something that resembled trust, though he still seemed unconvinced. “Alright,” he said finally, though there was still a tension in his voice. “But if it doesn’t happen—”

“It will,” you interrupted, cutting off his doubt. “Let me handle it.”

Jax’s expression softened, though the worry didn’t leave his eyes. “Just hang tight and I’ll have you out of here as soon as possible.” You reassured him.

He sighed, the weight of the situation still pressing down on him. “I hope you’re right.”

You gave him one last look, then turned to leave, as you stepped out of the holding area, the cold air of the hallway wrapped around you, you hit dial on Opie’s number. It only rang once before he picked up, his voice steady but laced with concern.

“Hey, what’s going on?” he asked, and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his mind.

“Opie, I need you to pull together whatever you can for Jax’s bail,” you said, urgency threading through your voice. “The judge set it at $500,000.”

“Shit.” Opie growled. “That’s a lot of cash on very short notice. We might be able to scrape together 30 or 35 at most, but—”

“Do what you can,” you said, trying to sound more encouraging than demanding. “I know it’s a lot, but please, Opie, just focus on getting the cash as quickly as possible. I’ll handle the rest.”

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, concern evident in his voice. He knew all too well what getting involved in Jax’s life again could mean for you.

You inhaled deeply, feeling the weight of his words. “I know what I’m doing.” Your commitment unwavering.

He paused, and you could almost feel him weighing your words, knowing the bond you shared with Jax. “Alright. I’ll rally the guys and see what we can do.”

“Thanks, Ope,” you said, a faint hint of relief hanging off your voice. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

You hung up, your heart racing as you weighed your next steps. It felt insane, but the idea of Jax trapped in that cell was simply unacceptable.

You were ready to dip into your own savings if it meant securing his freedom—a leap of faith rooted in the conviction that he deserved a chance, despite everything that had happened between you.

With a surge of determination, you navigate your way through the courthouse, already brainstorming ways to cover the bail gap. You knew all too well how difficult it was to say no to Jax, to resist the magnetic pull he always had over you. His presence was like a drug, intoxicating and familiar, making it impossible to ignore the depths of your feelings for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The sun was beginning to dip lower in the sky as you stood outside the county jail, leaning against your car, arms crossed. It had taken most of the day, but between Jax’s assets, the club’s contributions, a few favors, and your own money, you had gathered enough to post his bail. You handled everything from the legal side, and now, all that was left was to wait.

When the doors finally swung open, Jax emerged, free of his cuffs, his movements deliberate as he sauntered toward you. That familiar strut—the same one that used to drive you wild was still there, but it was different now. Worn by time.

You glanced up just as he stopped in front of you, hands sliding casually into his pockets. His smirk made a brief return, a shadow of the cocky kid you once knew. But his eyes... they carried something more broken now.

“This isn’t over, Jax,” you said before he had the chance to speak, your tone sharp, all business. “We’ve got a long way to go before trial, and I need you to cooperate. Please don’t make this harder than it already is.”

He leaned in slightly, his voice low, rough around the edges. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to take the bait. “I’m serious. I need everything from you—details, information, the truth—if we’re going to win this.”

Jax raised an eyebrow, that smirk lingering. “You think I’m holding out on you?”

“I think you’ve spent most of your life holding out on everyone.” you shot back, your voice cool, cutting through whatever charm he thought he was working. “I need full transparency, Jax.”

You were always so good at calling him on his bullshit. One of the very few people who even dared to.

For a moment, his expression shifted—just a flicker of something underneath the surface. The smirk faltered, replaced by something unreadable. He stepped back, crossing his arms as he leaned against the hood of your car, his eyes scanning you like he was trying to size you up all over again. Like he was testing the waters, seeing if the person standing in front of him was still the same woman who knew him better than most, or if time had changed that.

It was like the years between you hadn’t existed, like you were both right back where you started. Only now, the stakes were higher, the weight of everything unsaid and unresolved hovering between you.

The ride was quiet at first. The hum of the engine and the passing landscape were the only sounds filling the space between you and Jax.

You kept your eyes on the road, hands gripping the steering wheel a little tighter than necessary, doing everything you could to ignore the tension that thickened the air inside the car.

Jax sat beside you, his gaze a palpable weight, even though he hadn’t said much since you pulled away from the jail. He’d offered a brief, low thank you, but that was the extent of it.

Your mind raced with everything unspoken, years apart, and buried feelings neither of you dared to confront. The last time you’d been this close, everything had been different. Now, the proximity felt like teetering on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the drop.

Jax shifted, clearing his throat as if to break the silence. “You didn’t have to do this, you know. Bail me out.”

You kept your eyes locked on the road, your grip tightening around the steering wheel. “It’s my job.”

“Is it?” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying challenge in his words. “There’s no way my guys could scrape together 50k that fast. If you’re risking your own money, Pep—that doesn’t sound like just a job.”

He knew you too well, as if he could still read your thoughts. His words hung heavily in the air, the truth simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over.

You didn’t answer right away, focusing on the road ahead, trying to steady the swirl of emotions threatening to pull you under. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t about to admit that.

Instead, you took a breath, your voice measured. “I’m doing what needs to be done. That’s all.”

He glanced over at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, like he could see right through the wall you’d put up. “Sure,” he said, the knowing look in his eyes made it clear he wasn’t buying it. “You always were good at getting what you wanted.”

You looked at him, the comment hanging between you like an unfinished sentence, laced with the weight of the past. Jax shifted in his seat, his gaze flickering over to you as the silence stretched. You could feel it—the weight of everything, the tension that always seemed to hang between you. It was almost suffocating.

“You were impressive in there,” Jax said, breaking the silence once again. His voice was low and rough, but genuine. A smirk played on his lips, and it tugged at something inside you.

“You sound surprised,” you teased, a lightness creeping into your tone as you welcomed the distraction from the charged atmosphere in the car.

He chuckled, leaning back against the seat. “Nah, not surprised. Just… damn, you’ve changed.” His gaze roamed over you, like he was trying to reconcile the woman beside him with the girl he once knew.

Jax’s grin widened, clearly reflecting on your words in court. “I especially liked the part about how I rehabilitate former inmates at the garage.” His laughter echoed in the confined space.

You let your smile shine through. “That was pretty good, wasn’t it?” A mischievous smirk playing on your lips, “I mean… being president of the Sons is kind of the same thing, don’t you think?” You didn’t give him a chance to respond before adding, “I’ve just perfected the art of storytelling.”

He raised an eyebrow, a playful challenge in his gaze. “Yeah? You make it sound almost convincing.”

“Well, I’m also really good at getting what I want,” you replied, relishing the lighthearted banter even as a familiar heat simmered beneath the surface.

He studied you, his gaze piercing, making you feel heavy, almost relaxed, underneath it. “But it’s more than that. You were always smart, always tough. Now… it’s like you’ve grown into it. Like you own it.”

There was an intensity in his voice that made your chest flutter, a recognition of everything you’d become in his absence. It wasn’t just admiration; it was respect—something deeper and more meaningful than it had ever been between you.

You swallowed hard, your mouth suddenly dry. “Thanks,” you said, keeping your voice steady, even as his words unraveled emotions you hadn’t confronted in years.

His gaze lingered on you, heavy and unyielding. “Guess I’ve been missing out,” he added, a smirk returning to his lips, though it felt softer this time, as if he was wrestling with his own realizations about you and the past.

You tried to ignore the way your pulse quickened, the way the years and distance didn’t seem to matter when you were this close to him. It was dangerous territory, this pull between you—familiar, yet different. Both of you had changed, but some things were harder to leave behind.

“Don’t get used to it,” you said with a small smile, still trying to keep the mood light. “I’m not always going to be the one bailing you out.”

Jax laughed softly, shaking his head. “Yeah, we’ll see about that.”

The ride back to Charming always felt endless. The road stretched out before you, but all you could focus on was the man sitting beside you, the charged silence thick between you both. The air in the car felt heavy, buzzing with unspoken tension, making your mind wander in directions you didn’t want.

Desperate for a distraction, you reached for the radio, just as Jax did the same. Your hands collided, the sudden touch sending a jolt through you, electric and impossible to ignore. The contact was brief, but it was enough to send sparks skittering up your arm, your breath catching for just a second.

Jax froze too, his hand lingering over yours for just a moment longer than it should’ve, both of you caught in that split second of something undeniable. You didn’t move, and neither did he. The heat of his skin against yours, the brush of his fingers—it was like a shockwave, pulling you back into memories you’d been trying so hard to suppress.

You glanced over at him, finding him already watching you, his eyes dark, intense. The air between you humming with a vibrant, electric tension.

Neither of you said a word, but the silence spoke volumes. You pulled your hand away first, the moment breaking, but the charge still lingered in the air, leaving you both more unsettled than before.

You pulled into the familiar lot at TM, the sight of the place hitting you like a wave. It had been a long time since you’d been back, but the memories came rushing in all at once—the sound of engines revving, the smell of oil and metal, your dad’s laughter, Jax’s smile. The weight of it pressed down on your chest, and you struggled to keep your composure.

Your grip tightened on the steering wheel as you tried to steady yourself. Anxiety twisted in your stomach, your mind flooding with the past.

Jax shifted beside you, breaking you from your thoughts. You turned to him, forcing yourself to focus, to stay present. There wasn’t time for nostalgia, not with everything ahead of you.

“You comin’ in?” he asked, his voice smooth. “The guys would love to see you.”

Your heart lurched at the thought. Walking through those doors, seeing faces you hadn’t seen in years—it was too much, too soon. You weren’t ready for that.

You shook your head, lips pressing into a thin line. “No, not this time,” you replied firmly, glancing toward the clubhouse.

Jax seemed to understand, his eyes softening with a knowing look. He didn’t push.

As he reached for the door, you cleared your throat, keeping your voice even, though your pulse quickened with anxiety. “I’ve got a few cases to wrap up,” you said, glancing over at him. “But once that’s done, I’m all in. I’ll be back in a few weeks, and we’ll get to work. Until then, Liz will handle discovery and start gathering everything for your defense. You can trust her—she’s a better paralegal than I ever was.”

Jax didn’t break his gaze, the weight of it making your thoughts scatter. He gave a slow nod, his voice quiet but firm. “Alright,” he said. “I’ll be ready.”

You nodded in return, your mind racing, trying to stay focused on the work ahead rather than the tension simmering between you. This was just the beginning—a long, messy road loomed, and the past still lingered too close.

“Listen, Jax,” you said, your tone turning serious. “It’s important you stay out of trouble. You need to minimize your time with the club—no unnecessary risks, no run-ins with the cops. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

He tensed, his jaw tightening. “You’re telling me to stay away from my own club?” There was a sharp edge to his voice, a flash of something that made the air feel heavier.

You shot him a pointed look, not backing down. “I’m telling you to be smart,” you said, matching his intensity. “I’m trying to keep you out of prison. Help me do that. No stunts, no risks. You’ve got too much riding on this.”

He looked like he wanted to argue, the tension in his frame unmistakable, but after a beat, he nodded. “I’ll keep my head down.”

“Good.” You softened just slightly, letting some of the weight ease from your voice. “This is only the beginning, Jax. We’ve got a long way to go.”

For a moment, he hesitated, fingers lingering on the door handle before he spoke again. “I appreciate you doing this, Pep,” he said, his voice holding a depth that caught you off guard.

That god-damned nickname hitting you square in the gut. You swallowed hard, “Just stay out of trouble,” you reminded him, keeping your tone firm despite the way he was making you feel.

Jax gave you a nod, hesitating as though he had something more to say. But instead, he gave you that old, familiar wink and stepped out of the car. As he headed toward the clubhouse, you watched him, a knot forming in your chest that you couldn’t shake.

Alone again, you let out a slow, shaky breath, your thoughts spinning. The weight of everything left unsaid—it hung in the air long after he was gone.

What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

Part 3 - The Attraction

#jax teller x you #jax teller x reader #jax teller fic #jax teller #charlie hunnam characters #charlie hunnam #soa au #soa #soa fic #jax teller fanfiction

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cherryblossompink303 · 1 month ago

Text

Patience:~The Sun, the Sea, and the Host Club!~

➼ pairing: Kyoya Ootori x Reader ➼ summary: what was meant to be a relaxing trip to the beach turns into the strangest interaction with Kyoya ➼ what to expect: "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that" ➼ warnings: small amounts of angst ➼Part seven | Part Nine

You are hoping that after everything that went down at the jungle resort that you may finally get a truly relaxing break today. Although given who you are with you are unsure whether or not that will actually happen.

Yet still you try to finally get a tan, eyes closed as you sink further into the beach towel as the rest of the club talk around you.

“So… why’d we come to Okinawa?”

“Because Kyoya’s family has a private beach here.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah.”

“But why couldn’t we have gone-”

“- to the Caribbean?”

“Or even Fiji?”

“Do you think a commoner like Haruhi has a passport?”

You shoot up, opening your eyes “Kyoya!”

“Ah.”

“You do realize that I can hear what you’re saying, right?” Haruhi interjects.

Out on a protruding rock from the ocean, Tamaki is intimately situated with his arm around a patron’s shoulder.

“It’s so beautiful. Tamaki, being alone here with you and looking out at the sea, it’s like a dream.” She sighs dreamily.

“It’s no dream, it’s real, but if I could have my way, my princess. I’d be in your dreams every night.” Tamaki brings their faces to close proximity.

“Oh, Tamaki.” His guest swoons.

Utilizing the volleyball net, the twins and two guests play a game of two on two. Hikaru bumps the ball violently, and it goes flying over Kaoru and his guest’s head and rolling off behind them.

“Hey, take it easy, Hikaru!” Kaoru begs as he goes running off after the beach ball.

“I’m sorry! I’ll get it!” Hikaru calls, but it’s too late; Kaoru is already on his way.

It’s like a cheesy romance movie, where the two protagonists go prancing off along the shoreline in a beach montage, almost in slow-motion.

“Wait for me, Kaoru!” Hikaru calls after Kaoru as he continues along the sand.

“It’s not my fault! The ball is rolling away!” All you can hear from you position on a towel under an umbrella next to Haruhi are the giggles of two brothers who are fantastic actors. The pullover covers your nearly bare body nicely from the sun and keeps you warm in the shade.

Ah, yes, hosts working on location.

Beside you, Haruhi sits with her knees pulled up to her chest as a hermit crab scuttles by along the sand near the towel.

“Oh, Haruhi, look!” You carefully lift the crab by the shell and place it in your hand, shoving it near Haruhi.

You follow her line of sight to see Kyoya monitoring a line of girls in swimsuits, all waiting for a turn with the King in the VIP spot.

Haruhi groans, “Why?”

“Her alone time with Tamaki is up. Next lady, please proceed.” Kyoya ruins the facade of a moment with his announcement.

“This sucks. I thought going to the beach meant a day off.” Haruhi’s attention is drawn to Mori and Honey’s group stretching their limbs.

“Um, Haruhi?” A shadow casts over Haruhi’s back, and she turns to greet her caller. Well, rather three, this time.

“Aren’t you going to go swimming with us?” They urge, all three dressed in very flattering swimsuits.

“No, uh, I like looking at the sea from a safe distance.” Haruhi settles for.

“Well, if you’re not going to swim, would you mind if we sat here and talked with you?” the second patron inquires cautiously.

Now a natural facade, Haruhi charms the three guests effortlessly, “But why? You girls should go swim. You’ve got cute swimsuits on; why not show them off?”

Instead of rushing off to the ocean, the guests sigh in appreciation.

As your eyes dart back and forth between Haruhi and her infatuated guests, you take an obvious hint and haul yourself up from the ground, dusting off and waving a short goodbye to the ladies before joining the twins in their antics.

“I can’t believe he fooled us.” Hikaru opens with, picking up their lost beach ball and handing it to his brother.

“Who’d have thought he’d bring the ladies with us?” Kaoru shrugs, although not upset in the least. This is one of the rare schemes that Tamaki’s managed to fool them with.

“We certainly didn’t expect it.”

“You were invited on this all-expenses-paid vacation for a reason. And that is to keep our clients entertained.” Kyoya is seated under an outdoor table with an umbrella and two tropical drinks before him.

You hum in agreement, finally rejoining the land of the living as you reach for the second drink. "You guys want the photobooks to sell this is how we do it" You add.

The twins stand before the two of you in disbelief "Well don't you make quite the money hungry pair" hikaru muttered, you raise an eyebrow "Have you seen Tamaki's plans? someone has to find the budget for it"

The twins exchanged a glance as the two of them pondered it over, ultimately agreeing with the logic before running back to play volleyball.

"Are you not going to go off with them?" Kyoya asked, looking up over his glasses while still scribbling in his notebook. "Not yet, just taking it all in" you reply lightly, pulling your knees up to lean your book against.

"Taking what in?" He asks, he knows that you weren't exactly unfamiliar with beach trips, while it may be less common where you were from you still had gone on plenty of trips. "It is rare that we can get a moment where everything isn't...filtered"

The statement intrigues Kyoya, head tilting to the side "How so?" you sigh, closing the book as you stare out into the ocean, watching as the boys have a water fight and Haruhi goes rockpooling with the girls.

"While we do have clients here, most of us have still dropped our typical club persona's that we put up at school, there's no pressure to pretend to be something we're not"

Kyoya hums, following your gaze to watch the boys also. "Do you really think so?" he asks, placing his notebook down. "I know so. None of us are in the host club for the sake of being in the host club, we all put on persona's to ignore the persona's we have to put on for our families. When we can drop both of those...it's rare...but it is quite nice to see"

Kyoya pauses, staring back at you "You're quite insightful sometimes do you know that?" he asks, taking a sip of his drink" you shrug "It's my job to be"

"So what pretenses are you putting up then? you sounded as if you include yourself?" the question siezes in your chest as you question whether or not you should actually go there.

"I think it may be the same pretenses that you put up as well" you reply, not taking your eyes off of him as you analyse his reaction. Kyoya doesn't answer at first, having a mental war with himself as to how much information he should release to you.

You unintentionally hold your breath waiting for his answer, praying that he wouldn't shrug it off again, that he wouldn't shut off just this once. "And what is that?"

"That while we were in club hours, distracted by numbers and analytics, we can both ignore why we are always sat together and the future that is coming for us soon"

"Y/n-"

"It is fine Kyoya, I have always been aware of my place with you, you don't have to rush to protect my feelings" you place the book you were reading on the table between the two of you.

Silence falls between the two of you as you sigh. "Kyoya I am tired of this dance we do every time this comes up. We have known each other two years and we never talk about it. Not really"

"Could I get a word in please?" your slightly ajar mouth pulled itself shut at the question. "I thought when we spoke at the party that was us talking about it"

"I...we said at the party we would try...to make this work...and I am being patient but..." while you are too caught up trying to piece together the right words you didn't notice how Kyoya was hanging onto every one of those words.

"I never know...where I stand with you Kyoya...and the truth is I don't think you know either" Kyoya remains silent, debating whether it would be best to say something in defence or let you elaborate.

"I don't...I don't expect anything from you but just as i think i've figured out what we are something will happen and I'm back to square one." you look away, staring back out into the ocean not wanting to bear to see his reaction.

"We are engaged but we are not together, we hang out and as far as I'm aware I am the person you talk to the most but we aren't friends..." it is in this moment that Kyoya wishes that he was better at bringing himself to express any form of emotion.

"I didn't...know you felt that way" was what ends up coming out instead. "Please don't say it like that" you plead, regretting bringing this up in the first place, taking a sip of your drink.

Kyoya is stunned "Like what?"

"With pity, I am aware of my position, and you are aware of yours, we fulfill the agreement our fathers made only enough but it is strange because of that exact arrangement we have decided that it would be for the best that things are only one way or another"

"We have responsibilities"

"Yes we do, but you seem to forget that you can do more than just your responsibilities. Why do you think you are here?" you gesture out to the rest of the host club.

"Y/n if you are saying what I think you are you do not want to go there" You raise an eyebrow "Do I not? Because the truth is I don't know anything about you. I'd like to but I don't, not truly."

Kyoya's face falls, seemingly a flurry of realisations hitting him at once. "All I am saying is that we are going to be stuck together for a very long time, I just want to know what terms that time will be on"

"Help!" Haruhi's voice seemed to echo through the rocky outskirts of the bay. You shoot up, completely forgetting the conversation that was just occurring, running in what you hope to be the direction of the cry.

as you turn around the rocks, quickly realising that the other club members are following behind you, but that isn't what you are worried about, no you are worried by the group of guys who currently are cornering haruhi. "Get the hell away from her!" you yell out.

"Ah good another one" the guy whose hand was wrapped around Haruhi's wrist says at your presence, not seeming intimidated in the slightest. "Yeah, now get away from her" You yank his hand off of her, wrist, however in the process he grabs onto yours instead, in an instinctual response you knee him in the crotch, throwing him off you.

"Get away from them!" Honey's voice rings out, tackling them, Mori as well. they just about manage to get out enough to run away, you manage to dodge out of the way in time to miss the onslaught, accidentally stepping backwards into Kyoya.

"Are you okay?" he asks, placing his hands on your shoulders to stabilise you. "Fine."

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

It's dark out, the host club have retired to Kyoya's family's beach house for the night. Kyoya is pacing the room as he is on the phone to his police force while you are sat on his bed watching him ramble on. He eventually sighs as he hangs up the phone.

"The girls are all safely at the hotel, they are tracking down what is left of those guys" You nod "Good"

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asks for probably the third time since the incident. "Yes I am fine, I know the whole 'duty of care' bullshit and that you probably got asked about me over the phone but I am fine"

"Forgive me for checking on someone who is known to avoid doctors" He mutters, placing the phone on the desk. "What you did was risky"

"Haruhi was in trouble" You sat firm in your position, having no regrets on your decision despite the backlash you had received from the host club after the incident. "Yes however there were much safer ways to handle it than just throwing yourself into the situation, you're not martial arts trained like Honey or Mori"

"Haruhi was in trouble then, what did you expect me to do, wait? Kyoya she could have been seriously hurt if i did that"

"You could have been seriously hurt!"

The outburst came as a shock to you, jaw hanging open for a moment before slowly picking itself up. "I am fine"

"Yes but you could have very easily may not have been"

Kyoya has a certain intensity to him that you do not see often at all from him, your mouth hinges close in shock. "You want to know what we are y/n? The truth is I don't even know the answer but what I do know is that you cannot do stuff like that"

You could practically hear the heart palpitations in your chest, you and Kyoya stare at each other from across the room, part of you was frustrated with him. Not getting anywhere with him apparently.

On the other hand there was a familiar feeling that you recognise from a moment of closeness the two of you had in the classroom when investigating shiro.

In the wake of your silence Kyoya sighs. "I...You are right, I do have a 'persona' or whatever you want to call it, but I can't just...drop it, it has become second nature to me now...please just...be patient with me"

There's a level of vunerability in his words that is unlike anything you had ever heard from him before. You stand up, approaching him slowly while not taking your eyes off of him, sighing as you stand less than a foot away from him "I can be patient...I just need to know that I'm not the only one trying to make this work"

Thunder cracked in the background but the two of you didn't seem to take any mind. "I..." Kyoya was hesitant with his words "You aren't...the only one..." You nod, happy to finally get confirmation but now unsure of what to do or say next.

However you do not need to make that decision, as an almost electric, feather light touch brushes your hand, a finger wraps around yours, interlocking.

"Patience?"

"Patience."

Next time on patience 'A Challenge from Lobelia Girl's Academy'

Tag list (reply to be added): @skottch @cgmajor @rebirthbunbun @bbybubbles @blueberry19000 @katgirl05 @smellslikelovinglies @veras-fanfic-reblogs @sadprimrose @mirtalikesdr @sleeplesssskeleton @ritzes28

#kyoya ootori #kyoya ootori x reader #ohshc #kyoya x reader #ohshc kyoya #ohshc x reader #ouran high school host club #ouran highschool host club #ouran host club #ouran hshc #kaoru hitachiin #ouran #ouran kyoya #hikaru hitachiin #haruhi fujioka #tamaki suoh

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lovelytsunoda · 6 months ago

Text

heatwave // mick schumacher

summary: sticky, sweaty days are no fun at all

pairing: mick schumacher x fiancée reader

prompts used: laying in bed all dayyy together with fans on & when one loves to cuddle and the other hates feeling sticky & "i know the weather is hot, but you're so much hotter, babe" ".... why did you have to be so cringe--

warnings: mentions of heatstroke, mentions of sex

authors note : I know I said I had no inspiration but I guess that was a bold faced lie because now I have some?

the ceiling fan spun in lazy circles, sheer curtains drawn shut and a small portable fan set on the nightstand. the two young lovers were drenched in sweat, despite not having left the bed (or gotten up to anything rated above a pg-13) all day.

the heatwave was a killer, and although they had been warned about the impending inclement weather to the dallas are, neither one had listened.

“ew, mick, your top is soaked through, take it off!”

“so is my skin!” he shot back with a laugh, shaking his head so that droplets of sweat flew off his soaked blond locks. “how’s that going to make any kind of difference?”

“it just will!” his fiancée whined from the bed, where she was lying on top of the sheets in nothing but panties and a grey robbed tank top. “I am literally dying here.”

laughing to himself, mick flopped down on the bed and reached for the tv remote, placing one warm hand on his lovers thigh. it felt like a branding iron on her skin, the simple sweaty contact becoming all too much.

“stop, stop! you’re too hot, I can’t take it!” the shout was followed by the rustling of pillows as she tried to find one that still had a cool side, pressing it over her face in an attempt to cool down

still laughing, mick sunk down on the bed next to her, nimble fingers raking his sweaty hairs away from his eyes as he joined his lover in staring at the ministrations of the ceiling fan.

“you know, this weather is hot, but you’re so much hotter, babe.” mick mused drowsily, turning to face yn.

the woman he loved. the one he was going to marry. there were only a few months now until the wedding, only a few things left to do.

if they could survive this heatwave, that is.

“mick,” she started, pausing for a second as she pulled the pillow away from her face, ready to hit him with it. “what do you have to be so cringe?”

“because you looove me.” mick laughed, leaning over her sweaty body to press kisses all over her face

“mick, you dog!” she shouted in between giggles, fighting the urge to curl her body around his, especially knowing how hot and sweaty she would become if she allowed herself to sink into his loving embrace.

she shoved mick to the side, using the last of her energy to sit up in bed, the gurgle of her stomach echoing throughout the room.

“uber eats?”

“uber eats. and nothing too heavy, the heat will kill my appetite pretty fast.”

moving to the edge of the bed, yn got up and slowly stretched out her sore limbs. she didn’t deal with heat well after having gotten heatstroke watching mick race in singapore a few years prior, hence why she had barely left her bed all day, allowing mick to do yard work and cooking and such.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” she started “and it’s likely the only time I ever will. please go and get the ice bath from the garage and make it as cold as humanly possible.”

micks eyes lit up, a devilish smile crossing his features. at the sight of his mischevious grin, yn regretted her decision almost instantly. her lover swept her off her feet, carrying her fireman-style to the garage. she sat on top of her dads old work bench as she watched mick set up the ice bath.

typically, she avoided ice baths like the plague. she found them far too cold, as if she was single handedly reentering the ice age.

but with heat like todays, that seemed to be the perfect answer.

she watched mick set up, his back muscles and shoulder blades moving under his toned skin. “water should be cold, I’ll run inside for some ice.” that smile. that damned cheeky smile. “do you want a swimsuit, or do you want to go skinny dipping. let me tell you which one I would prefer-“

“stop. please. it is too hot for sex today.” she whined, gesturing for him to come closer. “just dump me on the cold water. I want to feel something other than heatstroke.”

mick laughed, picking her up again. “babe, you do not have heatstroke.”

“you don’t know that!”

still laughing, mick leaned over the ice bath and slowly began to lower his lover into the icy water. as the cold water began to touch her, she squealed, flinching back.

“it’s easier if I just drop you right in!”

“well, what are you waiting for!”

with a hearty grin, mick dropped her into the water, stepping back to avoid the splash back.

“holy fuck!” she moaned “god, that feels good.”

“um, excuse you, you never moan like that when I’m the root cause of pleasure.” mick joked, pretending to be offended

she held up her hand, sinking further into the water. “hush. I’d like to meditate in this chilled water, in peace.”

mick knelt next to the ice bath, reaching to playfully tug on her nose. “the ice bath fits two. have room for one more?”

she laughed, turning to kiss him softly. “come on, romeo. of course there’s room for two, we just might need more ice.”

#mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x you #formula one imagine #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #mick schumacher imagine

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livviewritess · 8 days ago

Text

Time Of The Month.

Normal!Touya todoroki x Pro Hero!reader

Summary: young touya accidentally burns his girlfriends favorite teddy that she's had since childhood - she's gutted. It doesn't help that she's on her period too.

AU: Touya never became a villain.

Warnings: cute touya, crying, mentions of dark past, touya having a panic attack

Authors note: send in requests.. i need motivation. Enjoy!

"Shit.." touya said, scrambling around to try and find something to fix the teddy with. It was burnt to a crisp, only one side of it barely intact - only one eye, and the plastic nose had melted into the now rough fabric.

In his defense, you spent too much time with your teddy. He patted out the blue flames - you'd be home in an hour - what should he do? He can't fix it, and he certainly couldn't buy another one, he didn't have time. He ran his hand through his white hair and picked up a black pen from the bedside table and scribbled a little note.

He clicked the pen, setting it down next to the note, quickly slipping his shoes and coat on to go and meet up with his family for dinner, while you was on Patrol. He mentally kicked himself for being so reckless, and headed out the door.

About an hour later, you opened the door, kicking off your hero boots and quickly waddling to the bathroom to change your pad. God.. the cramps where really getting to you now - the villain you had just fought had gotten the worse side of it. The short end of the stick.

"Such an awful day.." you mumered to no-one in particular and slumped onto the couch.

You sniffed, smelling burnt plastic - unusual. Touya never does his little DIYs in the house, he does them in the garage.

You got up lazily, and headed to their shared bedroom - the room dark, the sunset seeping into the room, giving it a nostalgic feeling. The dark blue walls contrasted to the beautiful paintings touya had drawn, some unfinished, some framed on the shelving units that he put up the moment you said it'd look cool. The bed was made messily, touya probably waking up late and scrambling to get dressed to meet his family like he said he would.

Then, your eyes drifted to a lump in the sheets. You peeled it back - your teddy. Well, what was left of it. "No!.." you thought to herself, and tears brimmed your E/C eyes. "Damn you, touya!"

You looked at the note, and picked it up quite aggressively. You read over it with foggy eyes, and tore it up, chucking it in the bin, doubling over in pain. Your cramps really weren't helping her situation.

You flopped onto bed, softly crying into your pillow, hugging the now burnt teddy.

"So, touya. How's life?"

Natsuo said, munching on some Katsudon that Fuyumi made fresh, Rei talking to Shouto who was spacing out. Enji just sat there eating peacefully.

"Alright, I guess, y/ns convinced me to enrol in the hero course, but I don't know. I don't really want to be a hero - I think she just wants to close off any loose ends of me going down the wrong path.. I told her it wouldn't happen, but yknow. She doesn't listen." Touya explained, shouto snapping out of thought, walking over to sit next to his big brothers.

"Touya-nii? Shouldn't she be off Patrol by now?" Shouto said, looking at the clock. It's half 6, and liv got off work for about half 5.

"Yes, shouto, I'll text her," he said, whipping out his phone.

Touya:

Babe, you off work?

Baby?

Are you alright?

You:

No I'm not.

Touya:

It's because of your teddy right?

I didn't know what to do

I'm so sorry baby

I picked it up while I was having a bad dream and burnt it

I'm so sorry

Babe

Please answer

Touyas eyebrows furrowed as he looked down at his phone - you had read his messages, but you haven't responded. He felt his breath catch in his throat, feeling like he was suffocating. He couldn't breathe. His chest got tighter, a burning sensation in his eyes as he got up and rushed out of the front door and straight to their shared apartment. He needed to apologise to you. Now.

He swung the door open, and he caught you walking into their room before you shut it.

"Babe, let me in please.."

"Go away."

"Baby, please- I didnt- I didn't mean it, i- I had a really bad dream and I burnt it- please- please open the door!.." Touya struggled to get his words out as his throat closed up, choking back sobs.

The door opened slowly, and you let him in. He was a tall guy, not muscular but not skinny, his big blue bug eyes filled with tears, his eyebrows contorted with pain and sadness. His knees buckled, and he gripped your tshirt, his forehead resting against your stomach as you stood looking down at him, your own eyes puffy from crying.

"I'm so sorry!.. I didnt- i didn't mean it!- Please, please don't shut me out! Please don't leave!.." he blurted out, tears staining your sleep shirt. You ran your fingers through his his hair, and your heart sank with worry as he clutched at his chest, struggling to breath, and crying at the same time.

You dropped to the floor infront of him, taking his chin into your hands, trying to ground him. "Touya, baby, listen- I'm not gonna leave you, it's okay-"

You said, raking your fingers softly through his hair.

"Promise me?.."

He said, his shaking shoulders calming down, now more able to breath. He hiccuped a bit from the crying, and you brought your hand to the back of his neck, gently pushing his face into your neck, and the two of you just sat there in your home, calming eachother down.

"I'm not that sad, touya. I'm just a little annoyed that you didn't wake me up after your nightmare." You said, pushing his hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry.. I didnt want to disturb you.."

He said, and your heart clenched. You hated seeing him like this - but it was one step closer to healing him - you had stopped him from going down that horrible path that he had planned to drive down, and you where there to turn him around.

"Come on. Let's get into bed, yeah? Nice and comfortable." She said, standing up, and climbing into bed with him.

He was almost always little spoon, just wanted to be hugged and loved the way he always yearned for. In his head, his voice was baby touyas. Because at heart, that's who he'll always be. That small little boy, who always wanted to be loved and looked at. And you where there for him, to nurture him and look after him like his parents never did.

"I love you touya." You said, hugging him tight.

"I love you too." He said, before drifting off to sleep.

At least he looked peaceful in his slumber -

when he didn't have to worry about a thing.

Authors note: cried writing this chat. The end really got me.. MY BOY..

Rip Touya Todoroki 🕊.

#mha hawks #mha dabi #mha x reader #dabihawks #bnha dabi #mha #dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #mha touya #touya x reader #boku no hero academia #bnha #bnha touya

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13as07 · 7 months ago

Text

Lesson #1

(Jiraiya & Naruto Uzumaki Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Sadly, I don't know who to credit]

Requested by: @justanotherhqsimp

Word Count: 4,432

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

Three-Some (F/M/M)

Clit Stimulation

Titty Play

Hair Pulling

Oral (Female Receiving)

Fingering

There will be multiple parts :)

———————————————————————

"Sweetheart," Jiraiya's voice soothes, one of his large hands rubbing circles into my stomach as he tries to lull me. "Wake up, Sweet Thing," he continues to coo, his lips brushing against my neck.

"I am awake," I grumble, turning my head to lean it against any part of him I can get. "You're home earlier than I thought you'd be."

Jiraiya's hands cup my waist, gently sitting me upright. My arms slide around his neck, clinging to him as I bury my head in his hair. "And yet you look so sexy," he compliments, his fingertips skipping down to cling to the black lace that races across the top and bottom of my nightgown.

I knew Jiraiya was going to be home sometime tonight and I wanted to make sure I looked pleasing to him. So, before bed, I slide into one of the silky nightgowns he keeps buying and insisting I wear for him.

"I missed you," he mutters, fingertips clinging to my thighs, slowly tugging me down the bed. "I hate being away from you so long," he continues to murmur, gently sucking on a bit of my throat.

"I missed you too," I breathe out, the feeling of his lips sliding across my neck already igniting the flame that's been ignored the whole time he was away. "I'm so happy to have you all to myself."

"I know, Sweetheart," he hums, pulling himself off of me before plopping down on the edge of the bed. Jiraiya pats his leg, my body eagerly buzzing with the command. I obey the order, sliding into his lap. "But," he starts, picking me up to turn me around. My hands settle on his thighs, my back to his chest as I tip my head to the side. "Naruto is staying the night tonight," he tells me, soft fingertips sliding a few strands of hair off my neck, quickly replaced by his lips.

"Why?" I utter, soaking in the soft kisses and the way his finger draws figure-eights on my inner thigh.

My question is ignored, Jiraiya's focus on trailing his fingertip up my thigh and over to my panties. The soft touches feel both so good and so bad. I need his attention, my body melting into a puddle of arousal from the tiniest of touch and yet it's greedy too, needing so much more from him. The slow-drawn figure-eights and the barely present sucking of my neck aren’t enough. I need him to touch me more, to fill my quivering pussy, to make me cum. It's almost pitiful how badly I need him.

"He asked for help," Jiraiya finally answers, his touch freezing against me.

"Help him later. I need you," I wail, squirming, almost bucking my hips to press the pad of his finger against me again.

He rubs his nose against my neck, a few soft huffs pushing out of his nose and coating my skin; the usual sign that Jiraiya is thinking. "Sweetheart," he mutters, his focus back to drawing gentle loops against my clit. "Naruto asked for help from... well... you, sort of."

"From me?" I utter, my eyes falling closed as my head falls against his shoulder. I'm going to die if he keeps moving so slow, if he keeps touching me so lightly.

"Sort of," Jiraiya repeats, his kisses aimed in a neat line across my jaw. "He asked for help with sex and well, you are who I have sex with. You are the muse of my books, of the events in those books."

"I know, I know. You're not having sex with me now though," I whine, rocking my hips in hopes of getting even an ounce more of stimulation. "Jiraiya, fuck me."

He lets out a hissy breath, hips jerking up to press his growing hard-on against me. "Sweet Thing, I don't think you're getting what I'm trying to ask you," he mutters, his lips sliding backward to nibble on my ear. "Naruto asked me to teach him how sex works."

"Ya, ya, ya. I got that," I grumble, shooting my hand down to pay attention to myself since Jiraiya doesn't seem to want to. He snatches my wrist in his free hand, his thick fingers easily wrapping around it. "Come on," I groan, letting my head lull back and forth in disappointment. "I'm horny. I need more of you. Make me cum, fuck me, please? You've been gone forever."

"It was two weeks, Sweetheart, not forever," he chuckles, his chest vibrating against my back because of the noise. "So, what's your answer?" He asks, his touch freezing again, though this time it stops against me, adding a hint of pressure against my clit.

"My answer to what?" I whimper, failing to grind my hips against what little bit of him I have pressed against me.

"Can I use you as a pretty example? To show Naruto how sex works?"

"Yes, whatever you want, just touch me," I whine, a pitched moan ripping from my lungs when he starts his teasing again. Jiraiya's fingertip moves faster now, more pressure added to the circles. I wither in his lap, the constant electricity from my stimulation making my muscles tighten and jerk.

"Naruto?" He calls, making my head snap toward him. Slowly, the conversation we had, what I agreed to, starts sliding into place, finally managing to push past the fog of lust that's been building up since Jiraiya has been away. I just agreed to let my husband's student watch us have sex.

My body heats up as the bedroom door gets pushed open, moving slowly as the blonde boy inches his way into the room. "Hello Jiraiya-Chan," he mutters, eyes on the ground and his cheeks coated in pink dust. "I appreciate you and Jiraiya helping me. I just..." his head snaps up, a nervous smile on his face as he looks at us. "I want to make sure I can make Hinata feel good before I ask her to marry me." That's almost sweet. Almost.

"Anytime," Jiraiya laughs, his arms tightening around my waist to tug me closer to himself. "Lesson one, The Joys of Boobs."

"Jiraiya," I hiss, smacking his knee and sending him a pointed look.

"What?" He giggles, feathering kisses across my neck. "Boobs are amazing. Your boobs are the best. Now, come here, Naruto," Jiraiya orders, his hands crawling across my body, focused on shifting me on his lap. He hooks my legs on either side of his, spreading my knees apart as he tugs my nightgown off.

Naruto settles on the ground, two or three feet away from us. "Come on, that won't work, you got to be closer," Jiraiya mutters, waving his student toward us. The boy crawls forward a bit, still leaving plenty of room between us. "Here," his Sensei orders with a huff, pointing at the ground right in front of us.

Slowly, Naruto does as ordered, inching forward again until his chest is almost pressed against Jiraiya's knees. The boy's eyes trail after my nightgown, watching it fall to the ground, his sight staying glued to it even after it hits the carpet.

"Alright," Jiraiya booms, his big hands jumping up to cup my breasts. "The golden rule of sex is consent, obviously," he starts his lecture, Naruto's eyes now flickering between my clothing and us. "But the silver rule of sex is remembering every person is different. Just because my Sweetheart likes something doesn't mean Hinata likes it too. Just because I like something doesn't mean you'll like it, understand?"

"Ya," the boy mutters, his eyes lagging on us a second longer between flickers.

"Now, if you're with an experienced person - like my Sweet Thing and me - you can just ask what they like and they'll probably know. Now, with Hinata, I doubt she has a lot of, if any experience so you'll have to experiment. Are you paying attention? Pay attention."

Naruto slowly drags his eyes away from the floor, settling them on us. He squirms in his spot, cheeks growing darker as he looks at us. "Sometimes it's tricky to figure out what a girl likes so don't be afraid to ask. Worse they can say is they didn't like it," Jiraiya carries on, his fingers starting to fondle my chest, softly squeezing at the flesh cupped in his hands. "My Sweetheart doesn't necessarily get pleasure from an action like this but she doesn't necessarily not get pleasure, does that make sense?"

The boy thinks for a moment, head tilted as he watches his Sensei's hands. "Like it feels good but it doesn't help her... um... prepare."

"It doesn't exactly get her wet, no. But it does send signals to tell her body that sexual activities might happen," Jiraiya rattles on, squeezing my breasts a couple of times; a titty guy as much as ever. "But I enjoy doing it. My Sweetheart's chest is soft and always so warm. Come, try."

Naruto glances at me, uncertainty soaked in his face as he leans closer. Jiraiya's hands fall away, settling on my stomach to rub across me. His head tips down, pressing kisses into my bare shoulders as his eyes trail over his student, ready to intervene at the slightest hint of pain or discomfort. The gentle kisses eat away at the anxieties and embarrassment brewing in my chest.

The boy carefully rests his hands on my breast, eyes falling to watch his fingers. "What do I do? Just squeeze them?"

"If you want," my husband mutters, his eyes flicking toward me before setting on his student again. "Squeeze gently though. My Sweet Thing can take a lot but it can still hurt if you grab too roughly."

"Right," Naruto mutters, softly squeezing my chest. His fingers flex against me, testing different grips, each followed by a glance up to make sure he didn't hurt me. After a few tries, he calms down, moving my breasts around to toy with them. An amused smile rests on his lips as he spreads them apart and then squishes them together, routinely squeezing them after every movement.

"Hey," I softly moan when Naruto moves his hands, his palms sliding against my nipples.

"I'm sorry," he races out, his hands freezing against me.

Jiraiya chuckles, shoving off one of Naruto's hands. "You don't need to apologize. That was a good sound. I promise if my Sweet Thing didn't like it, she'd let you know," he tells the boy, his hand busy catching my nipple between his fingers. "The actual boob of a woman might not be super sensitive but their nipples are. If you play with them it makes them feel good. My Sweetheart prefers my mouth to my hands but I'm not in the position to do that, am I, Sweet Thing?"

He nudges me, pulling me out of the storm made of his fingertips rolling my nipple and the swimming need for attention between my legs. "Your mouth?" Naruto asks, eyes glued to his Sensei's hand, trying to mimic the toying I'm receiving. "Like you just... just suck on it?" Jiraiya hums a yes, dropping his touch away from me again to let his student do as he pleases.

Naruto's jaw clicks open, his mouth wide as he leans forward. "No teeth," I hiss, poking his forehead to push him back an inch or two.

"No teeth," he repeats, closing his mouth a bit as he continues moving forward. His lips wrap around the boob my husband was just playing with, his curious tongue twirling over my nipple.

My hands shoot down, gripping the every which way ends of Naruto's blonde hair, using it to tug him forward. A few noises spill from the boy as he tumbles forward, his hands landing on my thighs to steady himself. "Careful," Jiraiya warns, his big hands wrapping around my wrists again, trying to shake my hands into letting go. "My Sweetheart tends to pull hair, especially when you're going down on her."

"She's fine," Naruto mutters, eyes rolling across my breast, looking over the work he did. He stares for a second before switching his mouth and hand placement.

My husband lets out an airy chuckle, letting go of my wrists to drop his hands down. His fingertips slide down my stomach before crossing over the bend of my panties, back to drawing swirls against my panties right over my clit. "Damn it, Jiraiya," I whine, squirming in his lap again. "I need you."

"Patience, Sweet Thing. Naruto is learning. If I do it all he won't learn anything." I whine some more, yanking on the strands wrapped around my fingers. I want Jiraiya sucking on my breasts, I want his tongue toying with my nipple, and I want his hand groping my boob. He knows how I like it and he does it so well. Naruto hasn't a clue in the world how to get me off. "If you use your words he'll be able to do it right," my husband mutters, his reading of my reaction as on point as ever.

"You're doing it wrong," I whine, tugging Naruto off of me. Concern flashes across his face, quickly smashed by his Sensei.

"You're not doing it wrong, it's just not how she likes it," Jiraiya corrects, softly cooing at his student. "My Sweetheart likes her nipples pinched, not tugged on. She also likes it when you flick your tongue, like this," he says, sticking his tongue out to show the motion. "Try again."

"Okay," Naruto mutters, glancing between my boobs for a second before diving back in.

"Damn it," I whine when the boy falls in line, doing as ordered by his Sensei. "Damn it, damn it, damn it," I mumble on repeat, tugging Naruto closer to my chest. "Jiraiya?"

"Okay, Sweetheart, I'll give you what you want," he murmurs, pushing his student off of me. Naruto moves backward, wiping at his mouth dripping with saliva. "Lesson two, The Magic of Fingers."

"Jiraiya," I start to hiss, his name soon coming out as a moan when he presses against my clit more.

"While poking around the intimate parts of a woman it's important that you're nails are kept short and that your hands are clean," he starts explaining, shifting me off his lap to set me back on the bed. "Now, go wash your hands because you're not touching my Sweet Thing unless I'm sure your hands are clean," Jiraiya orders, waving his student toward the bathroom connected to our bedroom.

Naruto looks confused but does as told, climbing to his feet and sliding into the bathroom.

"Are you doing okay, Sweetheart?" Jiraiya asks, a hand rubbing at my stomach again as he slides off the bed, situating himself on his knees between my thighs.

"There should have been more of a discussion before you invited your student into our bedroom but ya, I'm doing okay."

He hums, painting kisses across my inner thighs, his free hand busy tugging my panties down my legs. "If you want to stop, we can stop. If I say something you don't want to do, we won't do it. Just say the word, Sweet Thing."

"I know," I exhale, the slow teasing building up with every kiss brushed against my skin. I hang my legs over Jiraiya's shoulders, scooting down the bed to get closer to his face.

He laughs at my actions, his breath coating my pussy because of the sound. "Alright, Sweetheart," he murmurs, nuzzling my thigh for a second before he dives in. Jiraiya's tongue slithers through me, lapping at my clit before dropping down to poke at me.

"Fuck," I whimper, hands jerking down to wrap his fluffy white hair around my fingertips. My hips work with his tongue, grinding in tone with it to start pulling out the orgasm I've been craving for past couple of weeks. "Please?" I continue to whine, arching my back as the finish line slowly approaches.

He complies with my pleas, his focus back to my clit. His lips gently suck on me, tongue picking up the figure-eights his fingertips abounded. "Dear Lord," I hiss, yanking on his hair as if I could pull him closer to me. "Damn, Jiraiya, oh God." Words spill out of me, barely registering before they're pushed past my lips.

His arms wrap around my knees, keeping me cemented to the bed as I spill onto his tongue. Jiraiya is quite eager with my finish, happily licking away at the mess he caused before it can drip onto the bedsheets. "As beautiful as ever, Sweet Thing," he coos, plopping a kiss on my abdomen as he pulls away.

"That's what a girl looks like when she... uh... climaxes?" Naruto's voice cuts through the room, tugging our attention toward him.

A blush coats my face as a grin coats Jiraiya's. "It's what my Sweetheart looks like, ya. Gorgeous, isn't it?"

Stars hang in Naruto's eyes as he looks over me, an airy smile on his face. "Do you think Hinata will look prettier than that if I make her finish?"

"No," Jiraiya deadpans, his lips busy peppering kisses across my shaky legs. "There isn't a girl in the world more beautiful than my Sweet Little Thing."

"I beg to differ," Naruto grumbles, his eyebrows pushed together as his shallow anger is pointed at his Sensei.

"Then beg." Shivers slide up my spine at Jiraiya's tone, my pussy tingling with the want for a second orgasm. "If you don't think your wife is the most beautiful woman in the world, you shouldn't be married to her."

"Oh," his student squeaks out, his attitude shifting with his Sensei's indirect praise to me. "That makes sense. How'd you make your wife do that? Squirm around like that and squeal how she did?"

Jiraiya's guard drops back down with the question, his passionate need to make me feel like the most beautiful person in the world simmering on the back burner again. "That's lesson three, let's focus on one lesson at a time. Come here."

Naruto shoots forward, settling on the floor next to his Sensei like an eager puppy ready to learn a new trick. My husband shifts, dropping his hold on my legs before spreading them further apart, making room for both of them between my knees.

"Alright, this is a pussy," Jiraiya starts, making me squirm as both men look over me. His fingertips slide through me, spreading my cunt open. "This," he mutters, a fingertip circling my clit. "Is my Sweetheart's clit. That's where a woman is most sensitive." His fingertip skips down, sliding into me just a knuckle to curling and rubbing against the entrance of my pussy. "This is her vaginal opening. It's where your dick goes. Are you following so far?"

"I think so," his student mutters, heating my face even more. It's just anatomy, I don't know why it's so embarrassing. "Clit at the top, most sensitive, and opening at the bottom where the actual sex happens."

Jiraiya's head tilts, lying against my thigh as he hums in approval. "Fingering is a way to prep your partner before having intercourse. It's not necessarily needed but still enjoyed. Usually, as long as your partner is wet, she'll be fine. Foreplay is important to make sure your partner is prepared."

"Foreplay, important, got it."

"Alright," Jiraiya murmurs, pulling his touch away from me. "Fingering is... well, intercourse with your fingers instead of your penis, I guess. Go at it, kid. Slow and careful though, until you figure out what my Sweet Thing likes and can take."

Naruto nods, his focus still on my pussy for a second before he moves closer. "I just... push my finger in?"

"Ah... ya, but that's because I already prepped her," my husband mutters, his main focus being on brushing kisses against my thigh. "Usually you should toy with a girl’s clit for a bit before so she's wet enough to handle a fingering."

"Noted," his student mutters, carefully pushing his finger into me. Naruto's fingers are shorter and slimmer than Jiraiya’s, a difference I haven't felt since our commitment to each other. "Now what do I do?"

"You can curl your fingers or thrust them in and out of her or both. Whatever you feel like, though my Sweetheart likes a mix of the two."

"Fingers?"

"I usually use two. Some people use one, some use three. I think two is the best but each to their own."

"Okay," Naruto mutters, tugging his finger out before thrusting two fingers back into me. "So, just like this?" He murmurs, thrusting his fingertips in and out of me again.

Jiraiya hums a yes, softly sucking on a chunk of my skin. "If you use your thumb to rub her clit it'll help push her to orgasm quicker." My hips jerk when the boy follows the order, the heat coating my skin quickly becoming a mix of arousal and embarrassment. Why did I agree to this? Let the boy stumble over his feet as he figures it out like everyone else.

Tingles start to stir from Naruto's curious thrusts, the unsure circles brushing against my clit and Jiraiya's mouth sucking bruises into my thigh. When the boy curls his fingers, my hips jerk a tad. "Oh, she... she did the withering thing."

"Pay attention," Jiraiya chuckles, his eyes glancing up at me. "You'll want to know where you curled in case you hit her g-spot."

"What's a g-spot?" Naruto asks, his thrusts picking up speed as his comfort level grows.

"It's another sensitive spot but inside a woman instead of outside like their clit."

"How will I know I hit it?"

"You'll know. I promise you, you'll know."

Both men fall quiet, Jiraiya's main focus back to marking my skin. Naruto's eyes stay locked on my pussy, his fingers continually thrusting in and out of me at a pace he's comfortable with. Every few thrusts, he curls his fingers, eyes flicking up at me to see my reaction. My attention is on trying not to jerk or squish the men with my thighs as they toy with me.

Naruto thrusts his fingers into me again, paired with a curl this time. "Holy," I moan, hips jerking and back arching upward. "There you go, Chibi-Chan."

"Right there?" He asks, head popping up to look at me. A toothy grin is painted on his face, filled with pride for himself. "I found your special spot?"

"Ya. Ya, ya, ya," I ramble, taking grip of his hair again. "Keep moving your fingers," I order, grinding against his stalled fingers.

"Oh, right. Sorry Jiraiya-Chan," he mutters, moving his fingers again. Naruto's movements are slow again, uneasy from my hips trying to move in tune with his fingertips. He did listen though, curling his fingers in the same spot every two or three thrusts.

"Come on," I whine, yanking on the strands of blonde hair trapped in my grasp. "Move your fingers faster."

"Sorry," he whispers again, doing as told.

"Just curl them," Jiraiya orders, gripping Naruto's wrist to stop him from tugging his fingers out of me again. "Focus on curling them against her g-spot and adding more pressure to her clit."

"Right," Naruto mutters, being as obedient as ever. His fingers constantly curl against me, adding more pressure to the circles he's rubbing against my clit.

My back arches with every tick forward, moans, groans, and calls for my husband spill out faster than my breaths. "Pretty please?" I wail, trying - and failing, to bring my knees together.

"Should I stop - "

"No, no, no, no, no," I cry out, cutting off Naruto's question as I thrust my hips down, the possibility of my orgasm being lost swimming around my mind. "Don't you dare, you hear me? Don't you dare."

Jiraiya softly chuckles again, his warm breath rolling of over spit coating my thigh. "Just keep doing what you're doing. When a woman is close to finishing the easiest way to mess it up is by changing stuff. Always keep doing the exact same thing if they're close to cumming."

"Noted," Naruto whispers, keeping the sloppy but effective rhythm of curls and circles.

"Jiraiya," I whine, the knot in my stomach loosening as a mess spills out of me again, coating the bedsheets and my thighs.

"Wow," the boy mutters, his eyes burning into my cunt as his fingers keep working against me. "She just... it just... spilled out."

His Sensei snatched his wrist, tugging his touch away from me. "She came, yes," Jiraiya mumbles, shouldering Naruto out from between my thighs. His lips are back to coating me in delicate kisses, helping me wind down from the feeling. "If you keep going once a girl is done cumming they can get overstimulated. Some girls like it, my Sweet Thing doesn't."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"You're fine," I mutter, my hands wandering around to find a strand of Jiraiya's hair to latch on to. "I'm not overstimulated, just a bit tired."

"Just like sex, different people need different things to wind down, also known as aftercare. Aftercare is the second most important part of sex, right after consent, at least in my ranking. Some people need it at different parts of sex. My Sweetheart needs it after every orgasm - "

"No, I don't."

"I like to give it to my Sweetheart after every orgasm," Jiraiya corrects, a rougher kiss slammed to my legs in a playful but petty get-back. "I need it when we're completely done with a round. Feeling my Sweet Thing on my chest and having her play with my hair is what I need. She, on the other hand, needs to be littered with kisses and reminded I find her beautiful."

"So... just cuddling and stuff? Why's that so important?" Naruto asks, placing unsure kisses across the top of my thigh.

"Aftercare gives you guys a chance to talk about what you liked and didn't like. It's also a way to reset and acknowledge the emotions and feelings of - or lack of - safety between the two of you. It's just a healthy way to reconnect with your partner."

"Oh, okay," the boy murmurs, his kisses growing more confident with each one he lays against my skin. "Did you feel safe, Jiraiya-Chan?"

"Yes, I felt safe with you."

"Oh, good. I think you looked pretty when you were cumming. It's one of the prettiest things I've ever seen," Naruto rambles in between kisses.

"Thank you," I giggle, twirling some of Jiraiya's hair around my finger.

"Alright, what's my next lesson, Sensei?"

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#naruto shippuden #naruto shippuden oneshot #naruto shippuden x reader #naruto shippuden smut #jiraiya oneshot #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya smut #jiraiya #naruto uzumaki #naruto uzumaki oneshot #naruto uzumaki x reader #naruto oneshot #naruto x reader #naruto uzumaki smut #naruto smut

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picksnrolls · 7 months ago

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As Advertised

Had this tickling my fingers for a while now and needed to get it out of my system. I hope this fills a little bit of the hole for these two. I know I could use more cocky masc Cait, too.

Warnings: 18+. explicit sex. rpf.

1k CC x Nika

Caitlin opened the door to her apartment, beer in hand, wearing a white sports bra and light grey sweats. Hair pulled back in a mid loose ponytail.

She had been friends with the former Husky for a couple years, seeing each other at various functions outside of the game and they messaged a little more regularly since their draft weekend NYC adventures. She would flirt a bit here and there but wasn’t upset when a comment didn’t really have its desired effect.

Nika had been linked to the same guy for a few years but she knew they were open to doing their own thing while away as long as it was on the dl and that was exactly how Caitlin liked it. No commitments, no expectations.

When Nika had accepted her invite to come over after their second game at the end of May they both knew what was on the table. What Caitlin hadn’t expected was to see the Croatian back in her pre game fit, short skirt, crop top that just barely covered anything and knee high boots with a heel that gave her the height advantage.

“Damn girl. You really put that fit to work.” Caitlin let her eyes roam the length of Nika, licking her lips and biting her bottom one. “Can I get you anything? Beer or wine?”

Nika took hold of the bottle that was in Caitlins hand and drained the rest of its contents. She handed it back with a smirk. “No thank you. I didn't come here for the drinks.” She let her own eyes take a long scan of the sight in front of her and she liked everything she saw.

Hooking up had come up a few times and she was more than ready to let Caitlin try to fuck the good sense out of her. There were the occasional rumors that a few others had found themselves begging for and being on the receiving end of her strap, then leaving later that night thoroughly wrecked and fucked proper.

“No?” Caitlin pulled her on court rival in close, the bottle had already been discarded on the table. “Why did you come?”

“I haven’t yet.” Nika’s eyes were blazing. She knew what the game was and she was ready to play. “But you’re going to do something about this?”

“You don’t mince words.” She leaned in as close as she could get without actually kissing Nika, her scent of strawberries and vanilla near intoxicating. “You're sure you want my cock?”

xxx

“Damn you're the prettiest girl I ever did see sucking on my cock, taking me all the way down your throat.”

" Does that line work on all the girls you try to get in bed?” Nika husked out between long licks.

" Who says it's a line? “ Caitlin pulled her cock back from Nika’s mouth, running her thumb along her bottom lip, a line of spit being wiped away. “And if it was, looks like it worked on you."

Nika had been on her knees taking the length of the strap with ease, she gagged once when Caitlin thrusted erratically from the way the base had rubbed her clit. She kept that knowledge for use a little later in the night.

Nika's first orgasm came on Caitlin's tongue. She was on her back, legs spread wide, her clit suckled and both nipples tugged and twisted.

"You're so fucking hot when you cum. You ready for my cock?” Caitlin was knelt between her legs, condom being slid slowly onto her length. She swiped one finger through drenched folds and was pleased to feel Nika buck up into her touch. " All this for me?”

It wasn't a question that needed to be answered. She knew it was and she was rewarded with a long low moan when she slid in to the hilt. Caitlin started out slow, a drawn out build up, one leg up over her shoulder. The sounds filling the room would have most people blushing but it only added to her cockiness.

Having this European goddess matching her thrusts as they increased almost set her rhythm off. She leaned forward, wrapped both legs around her waist and plowed into Nika like it was a skills competition and she was out to win gold.

She was quickly rewarded with a second orgasm. "Fuck! That's right.. who's pussy is this.. you gonna take more of this.” She couldn't keep from gloating just a bit.

"So maybe you are as advertised.” Nika gasped out after her body was rocked to a second intense climax without her clit being stimulated this time.

“There was doubt?” Caitlin growled out while taking in a couple deep breaths. She was a bit more winded than usual but had no plans on stopping until there was begging to do so. She hovered over the beauty, the tip of her dick bumping Nika's clit which caused it to press back against her own. The sensation threatening to push her over the edge a lot sooner than planned.

“You just let me know when you've had enough, Mami."

“Don't be silly, Cait. Now lie back so I can ride your cock. Let's see if you can keep up. " Nika had Caitlin on her back in a flash leaving her slightly dazed. She straddled her, lined her entrance up with her cock and slid down so she was fully impaled. The action left Caitlin gasping again and the way the base nudged her clit again was obvious to the girl on top.

Caitlin gripped tight to Nika's hips trying to control the movements. Everytime she slammed back down the fire inside her belly grew a little hotter. Every swirl of her hips had her closer to exploding.

When her orgasm hit, Caitlin cursed through gritted teeth, hips stopped pumping and vision blurred. For a second she would have sworn this fake store bought dick was actually a real part of her. A true extension of her body. Even the tips of her fingers pulsed as she came down from a high she almost never achieved like this, especially at the hands of someone else.

“You want to have Daddy status but can't keep going after you've cum?” Nika's eyes burned with renewed energy as she watched Caitlin blink back into focus.

She knew there would be a quick recovery and she was positive whoever was in the apartment next door was in for a sleepless night.

Round one had been a draw. Caitlin only stopping when it was time for her new obsession to leave. When their teams played each other again they planned to pick up exactly where they left off.

Nika was more than willing to let her wreck her body any time she wanted.

#caitlin clark #nika muhl #nikalin #caitlin clark smut #nika muhl smut #wbb fanfic #caitlin x nika #as advertised #my headcanons #send asks

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sh1-n0bu · 2 years ago

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♡︎ 𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙮 𝙬𝙝𝙚𝙣 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙗𝙚𝙜 ♡︎

anon asked: i have a request!! male!dom!reader and sub!scara with ton of overstim and dacryphillia with maybe a bit of begging too? the rest is up to you!!

characters: sub!scaramouche x male!dom!reader

warnings: dacryphillia, overstimulation, begging, praise, degrading, brat taming, cockwarming, bondage, hair tugging, oral fixation, dumbification

notes: i’m kinda surprised that ppl actually req male readers to me cue me remembering the fiasco with the anon who said i should stop tagging my works as male reader akdjjsn

also anon pls come forward and clarify which one you are so i can properly tag if ur already an emoji anon that is cuz i forgor

you love your darling wanderer, you swear! but you just can’t hell but get a little ticked off at his mean words, crude remarks and bratty attitude. huffing when you explain to him that you have work to do, forcibly showing himself on your lap with a “pay attention to me!” type of look and yet now he doesn’t want it when he finally gets what he was begging for?

just as you were finally starting to focus on your current task at hand, a low whine is heard from under your desk. looking down at the culprit, you gave him a small ruffle to his head.

there he was! your sweet boyfriend with his hand tied behind his back, eyes hazy with tears brimming in them, face flushed the deepest shade of red with his whiny mouth swallowing your cock down his throat. fuck he can’t think… he couldn’t even breathe correctly with your cock forcing his jaw wide open, mushroom tip hitting the back of his throat as he tried not to gag and choke.

“just a few more papers, darling. i’m almost done” giving a few gentle pats to his head, you pulled your hand away before focusing on the papers in your hand. scribbling down something on the projects, declining, accepting some preferences and signing your signature on the ends of the paper until someone broke your concentration.

looking back down under your desk, you saw wanderer lightly bobbing his head up and down on your cock. sliding his tongue under some noticeable veins, whimpering at the taste of your precum, he just couldn’t help but act so greedy like an animal in heat.

fisting at his short locks, you pulled him off of your member as he gasped. drool slipping from his mouth, a thin saliva connecting the angry red tip of your cock to his bruised lips. panting, breathing heavily, he opened and closed his mouth over and over to try and ease the sore muscles.

“are you trying to get me angry, kuni?” holding his chin in your hand, you gave his cheeks a light warning squeeze. at your question wanderer tried to answer, failing as a long drawn whine escapes the back his throat with a tear falling down his cheek at being denied the sweet, creamy taste of your cum.

he was a lost cause. tiny hips bucking in the air as his bare body shivered - from excitement? cold? you didn’t know - alongside his small cock flopping helplessly against his stomach.

“p-please? please [name]… i need more~!” a lecherous sounding noise between a whine and a mewl escapes his mouth as more tears fell down his plush cheeks.

“more? more what?” feigning innocence at his pleas, you couldn’t help the growing smirk on your face. brats needs to be punished for their misbehaviors after all and it seems like this is the best form of punishment for your brat.

the puppet couldn’t help but blush at your words. he wanted to ask for what he wanted but it was just so shameful. a former fatui harbinger, a puppet of a god - being reduced to a mewling mess who pleads for his lover’s cock? this was too embarrassing! he has pride to keep and name to uphold!

at his silence, your grin grew more wider as your hand holding his cheek gets a bit tighter as a warning. he keened at that, trying to paw at your hand to ask for your mercy but his hands were tied tightly behind him with a pretty navy blue satin cloth. only the best for your darling of course.

taking a deep, stuttered breath he looked up at you through his messed up bangs. dilated, heart shaped pupils staring up at you with greed and lust, he pushed his chin up to your crotch as much as he could with the restraint that is your hand.

“please…? give me more of your cock” whispering breathlessly in a hushed manner as if he was sharing the most darkest secrets with you, wanderer took a quick glance at your dripping slit.

wet with saliva from his previous cockwarming, twitching here and there with your translucent colored precum dripping from the slit as wanderer gulped. hot bubbling lava swirling around in his stomach as he imagined your delicious seeds shooting into his mouth and down his throat, he let out a soft whimper at his fantasy, rubbing his thighs together to try and give his small cocklet some friction.

“since you asked so nicely, say aah~” teasing him more, you tugged his mouth close to your member as he eagerly kissed the mushroom tip with his blush darkening. licking up the visible veins around your girth before the puppet opened up his small mouth, happily pushing your cock into his mouth until he gagged halfway in. but that didn’t stop him as the short male forced his jaw open wider, swallowing up each and every inch with choked sobs and gurgled moans until his nose snuggled up close to your crotch with your member sitting heavily, heavenly down his throat.

ahh, if wanderer were to die with your dick sitting snuggly down his mouth as he gagged and cried, he wouldn’t mind it at all.

taking in a deep breath through his nose, he braced himself before starting to bob his head. starting out slow, dragging his tongue under the girthy muscles your boyfriend choked as he felt your cock push all the way back into his uvula.

however that didn’t stop him as wanderer only sped up the movements of his head, forcing himself to swallow your member as his mind slips off. only your scent surrounding him, your groans and huffs blessing his ears, your dick filling him up - you you you you!

harshly tugging on his purple locks, you pushed his mouth all the way to swallow up your cum as you groaned out loudly into the air. wanderer didn’t mind it, in fact he loved it as he swallowed every single drop happily. blush darkening more, spreading into his shoulders as he finally got what he wanted.

pushing his mouth off, you manhandled your short boyfriend to lay on the bed. red eyeliner ruined as he cried - from bliss? happiness? pleasure? pain? you didn’t know and neither did he - drool slipping down his jawline without a trace of your cum, pretty purple eyes hazy with their pupils dilated to the brim you couldn’t even see the colors and cheeks a beautiful shade of red.

slipping a hand between his quivering thighs you pushed them open, revealing his doughy skin tainted with his own fluids covering them. did he seriously cum from just sucking you off? how cute♡︎.

pulling the small dildo pushed into his hole, you ignored his miserable whines of feeling empty before filling him up again with your own cock - oddly feeling jealous and possessive of him over the stupid toy - making him let out a happy squeal at the fullness.

without giving him any time to catch his breath or get his bearings back together, you held his plush waist in a bruising grip before ramming into his hole.

“aaANNH! [NAME]!! shogoOD — SHOGOODSHOGOOD❤︎︎❤︎︎!!” whining over and over about how good it feels, how your cock is rearranging his guts, how your molding his ass to be perfectly in your shape and whatsoever, wanderer let out a sobbing mewl as you came inside him. but you weren’t satisfied. you wanted to fill him up more.

the next morning your neighbors complained about the noises your darling lover made causing his face to heat up in embarrassment. maybe you should muzzle him next time♡︎.

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witchezandwonderz · 3 months ago

Text

In the Shadows of Her Heart

Pairing: Aethelstan x Reader

Word Count: 948

Summary: After a drunken night, you admit to having feelings for someone after being questioned. When Aethelstan hears that the woman he loves might have eyes for another, he’s compelled to follow her home, determined to uncover the truth.

A/N- Helloooooo, I am a new page and love writing, especially about Aethelstan! However, I would love to write for other characters also. My requests are open, so if you have anything specific you would like me to write, please just ask! :)

If you enjoy my writing please could you like or reblog- this will help me find new accounts and mutuals to follow and enjoy others work. Thank you <3

Under the dim glow of a half-hidden moon, Aethelstan moved carefully along the worn path to your modest home, his cloak pulled tight against the chill, his every breath heavy with a question he feared to answer. Yet he had to know the truth, even if it broke his heart. Never had he imagined he would be creeping through the night on your account, feeling embarrassed, anxious, jealous—and more than a little afraid of being caught.

You had known Aethelstan for some years now. You rarely stayed in one place long enough to form deep ties, yet here in Rumcofa, you lingered, drawn by something that felt like belonging. While you had grown close to Uhtred, Finan, and Sihtric, Aethelstan was different. He held a quiet allure that took your breath away, though you did not realise how much he felt the same for you.

That evening, the hours had passed in the alehouse with laughter, drinking, and jests. As usual, you and Aethelstan found yourselves absorbed in your own quiet conversation, only joining the others when their voices drew you back. But then Sihtric, emboldened by drink, cast a bold question that changed the course of the night.

"So, Y/N, a question we have all pondered." He grinned, pausing with a mischievous glance at Finan before continuing. "When will you find yourself a man, then? Have you already? Is there someone?"

His tone was light, yet the question took you off guard, and a strange warmth rose to your cheeks. You felt Aethelstan’s gaze, though he looked away when you met his eyes.

Shall I confess that I care for Aethelstan? No—not here.

Shall I claim I’ve already found another? But would that end my chances with him… or open them?

The thoughts tumbled through your mind until, finally, you replied, "Sihtric, if you must know, perhaps there is someone I’ve had my eye on." With a playful wink, you finished your drink and took your leave. Aethelstan’s farewell felt strange, distant, though you brushed it off, thinking it only the wine.

As soon as you left, Finan nudged Aethelstan and joked, "Bad news for you, my friend. Close, but not close enough." Aethelstan’s face grew dark, and Finan’s laughter faded. "I meant no harm," he added quickly, but Aethelstan had already risen, cloak in hand, and left.

Troubled by wine and jealousy, his mind spun wild with every possibility. He had to know whom you’d meant, whom you truly cared for. And so, without much thought, he followed you home, his plan half-formed: he would hide nearby, wait, and see if another came to join you.

So it was that he sat below your window an hour later, his thoughts hazy yet transfixed by the sight of you inside, weaving your hair into a loose braid. You hummed softly to yourself, bare feet rubbing the furs on your bed for warmth, oblivious to his watchful gaze. Aethelstan was spellbound, his heart stirred by this quiet, unguarded glimpse of you.

This is madness, he thought, his head clearing as he realized the foolishness of his plan. He moved to leave, but as he shifted, a twig snapped underfoot, louder than thunder in the night’s silence. The sound startled you, and in an instant, you had seized your sword and darted to the window.

"Who’s there?" you called sharply.

To your utter surprise, Aethelstan’s face appeared from the shadows, wide-eyed and sheepish, like a child caught in mischief. Your brow furrowed as you lowered your sword. "Aethelstan? Why are you crouching outside my window?"

Struggling to find his words, he stammered until you held up a hand. "Enough—come inside."

He followed you in, every step burdened with self-doubt as his mind raced with the many reasons he should have turned back. Yet you, already sensing his purpose, hid your smile as you waited for him to speak first. He entered awkwardly, standing like a boy unsure of his welcome. You gestured to the bed beside you, and he sat, fidgeting as you took his cold hands in yours.

"You must be freezing," you said gently, keeping your gaze averted. When you looked up at last, your eyes held a trace of amusement. "Now, Aethelstan, will you tell me what brings you here?"

Taking a breath, he blurted out, "This man you spoke of... Is he a Saxon?" His voice shook as he repeated the question, his eyes searching yours.

A soft laugh escaped you. "He hardly knows himself," you replied, heat rising to your cheeks.

Aethelstan’s expression shifted, and he pulled his hands from yours. “It seems he has your affections well enough; you can scarcely speak of him without blushing.” Rising, he turned as if to leave. "I should go."

"Did you come all this way just to ask me that?" you called softly. He nodded, his face now tinged with colour.

Enough, you thought.

"Aethelstan," you said, your voice low, "I was speaking of you."

You lowered your gaze, heart pounding in the silence until you sensed him step closer. Looking up, you found him only inches away.

"You spoke of me?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, a small smile breaking through his astonishment.

"I did." Your voice was steady, though your heart was not.

Relief softened his expression as his hand reached up, brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. The look between you held steady, an unspoken pull neither could resist. He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours, soft and tentative, as though savoring a long-awaited answer. His hands found your face, drawing you closer as though this kiss might unlock every unspoken feeling held between you.

When he pulled back, he looked at you with a small, almost bashful laugh. “So... I haven’t come too late?”

With a smile, you replied, “No—I’ve been waiting for you.”

#aethelstan #aethelstan x reader #tlk fandom #uhtred #finan #sihtric kjartansson #harry gilby #tlk #tlk imagine #tlk fanfic #the last kingdom #uhtred of bebbanburg

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justice4canyonmoon · 2 years ago

Note

something about y/n losing her virginity to harry? please

I hope you enjoy almost 3k words of the softest filth I've ever written 😉 Also, I pictured this as LHH (my beloved) so that's why he's described as having long hair!

warnings: smut!! 18+ only!! vaginal fingering, nipple play (briefly), p in v sex, loss of virginity, innocent reader, soft dom! harry

WC: 2.8 k

Your parents always told you to wait until marriage. Said it wasn’t “ladylike” to give yourself to someone before you were truly dedicated to one another for life. And for a long time you believed them. But now, you were about to graduate college, and you still hadn’t had sex. Your friends all had: Sarah, Mitch, Adam, Harry, Niall, and all of the other people you hung out with found someone to suit them (with Mitch and Sarah it was each other, which you all totally called your freshman year). But you still hadn’t. And you had to say, you didn’t really believe your parents anymore. You wanted to see what the fuss was about. And you wanted it with Harry.

You had always had a bit of a crush on him: the long curls, bright green eyes, full lips, and dimple had drawn you in when you first met in your math class, but his sweet smile, gentle laugh, and kindness made you fall head over heels. Every time he got a new partner, your heart broke a little more, and every time he broke up with them, it healed again. You went through this vicious cycle all throughout your schooling, but tonight, you thought maybe you could break out of it. Harry had been single throughout your whole senior year, and your friends were hanging out at his place tonight. Maybe you could get him alone…

“Alright, I think you’ve had a few too many, Mitch. I’ll get him home.”

Sarah held her boyfriend up, still giggling at how he could barely get up from the chair. Adam had already gone home, since he had an 8-page final essay due for his writing class, and Niall hadn’t been able to come since he was studying for his music theory final. As soon as Harry finished helping Sarah get Mitch out to her car, he came back to find you still on his couch, taking a small sip from the bottle of hard cider you had been drinking. You purposefully didn’t drink enough to get you drunk, wanting to remember this. Sure, this could go horribly wrong and Harry could reject you and not want to be your friend again. But maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way as you. And you would get what you wanted.

“Will you need a ride home? Or are you okay to drive?” he asked.

You smiled, “I’ve only drank one bottle of cider. I’ll be fine, H.”

He smiled back, sitting beside you once more, “Can’t believe it’s almost over. I’ll miss you all when we go.”

“Me too,” you replied, “but I think I’ll miss you the most.”

Harry quirked up a brow, his smile becoming more of a smirk, “Oh, really? And why would that be?”

You sighed, pushing down your nerves and steeling yourself for a potential rejection.

“Because I want you, H. As more than just my friend.”

You paused, waiting for his answer. You locked eyes, trying to read his expression, but it was unusually blank. There was silence. A bit too much. Then his response.

“I wish you had told me that earlier. Before we were about to move home.”

You took one of his large hands in yours, interlacing your fingers.

“I’ve liked you for so long, Harry. But it seemed like every time I worked up the nerve to say something, you’d be with someone else. I didn’t want that to happen again, so I just didn’t say anything,” you explained.

His eyes softened, holding a twinge of guilt, “Only dated other people because I didn’t think I could be yours. Didn’t want to ruin the friendship.”

He brought your hand up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. You couldn’t help but get a little flustered, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“I felt the same way. Except I just stayed single because I’m a loser,” you joked.

A frown stretched across his lips, “No, you’re not. Don’t say things like that.”

“Well no one’s ever fucked me, so I think that might be true.”

And there it was. The invitation you wanted to send. You could only hope that he would accept.

Harry looked you in the eyes, his expression unusually serious compared to the bright eyed, joyful man you’d come to know.

“I don’t ever want you to think that about yourself. You’re such a lovely person, could never be a loser,” you smiled bashfully at that, but he continued, “and, well, if you’d like to change that…”

He trailed off, knowing you would know what he meant.

“I do, Harry,” you pulled him closer to you, your knees touching because of your close proximity, “I want that with you. I just wouldn’t really know where to start.”

He let go of your hand in favor of cupping your jaw, brushing his thumb against your soft skin, “Would you like me to teach you?”

You nodded, feeling a bit too shy to speak now. Harry smiled reassuringly, gently resting his other hand on your thigh.

“Let me know what you feel comfortable with, okay?”

“Okay,” you managed to get out.

That was all he needed before his lips were on yours.

They were just as soft as you imagined: plush, pink, and experienced as they moved against your own. You had kissed someone before, so this was at least familiar territory. But soon, he pulled you into his lap, his long curls tickling your skin as he deepened the kiss. You couldn’t help but gasp softly in surprise as his hands moved from cupping your cheek to wrapping around your waist. You felt almost dizzy, and it was just a kiss.

Harry pulled away then, looking deep into your eyes, “Still okay?”

You nodded, but he shook his head, “Need you to tell me. I want to make sure I have your full permission for everything we do.”

Your heart swelled. You doubted you’d find any other man who would treat you like this.

“I’m okay, Harry. Still a little nervous.”

He smiled, “Don’t worry, baby, I’ll take care of you. May I take this off?”

You hadn’t even noticed he was tugging on your shirt, but his question brought it to your attention.

Remembering his request, you said, “Yes, H.”

You lifted your arms above your head as he undressed you. You couldn’t help but feel a bit shy at your exposed position, moving your arms to cover yourself.

“Fucking beautiful,” Harry cooed, gently unwrapping your arms from your torso, “don’t need to hide from me, baby, you’re so damned pretty.”

Heat rose to your cheeks again as you mumbled a bashful “thank you.”

“Here, I’ll take mine off too.”

You gawked as Harry stripped his shirt off, revealing his toned and tattooed torso.

“Glad you’re enjoying the show,” he quipped as he stood from the couch, “but I’m not doing any more until we get to the bedroom. Not taking your virginity on my couch.”

You broke eye contact, slightly embarrassed as you stood up as well, “I didn’t mean to stare, H.”

He gently gripped your hips and leaned forward, lips brushing your ear, “I want you to look, darling.”

As quickly as he stepped into your space, he left it, walking the short distance to his bedroom and gesturing for you to follow. You did, still flustered as you walked past him into the familiar space. Harry closed the door behind you, despite the two of you being alone, and sat on the bed, patting his lap.

“Come here, baby.”

You quickly obeyed, sitting on his lap.

He cupped your face in his hands again, “If at any point you feel uncomfortable, please tell me. It’s okay if we don’t go the whole way today, just want you to feel safe.”

“I’ll tell you, I promise. But I don’t think anything you’ll do will make me feel uncomfortable,” you answered honestly, making him smile.

He leaned in and kissed you again, reintroducing the familiar motions. You went along happily, already addicted to his kisses. But soon, he was gently laying you back until your back was against the mattress. Harry’s hands traveled down your body, stopping at your bra.

“May I?”

“Of course, H.”

He unhooked your bra, throwing it onto the ground carelessly as he took in your fully topless torso. His large hands cupped your breasts, thumbs brushing against your nipples. You jumped from his touch, making him chuckle.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he remarked before replacing his thumbs with his lips, licking and sucking at your pert nipples.

You gasped, grabbing at his luscious curls, “Oh, Harry.”

You felt him smile against you as he continued his ministrations. You barely noticed his hands traveling down until they tugged at the zipper of your jeans. He looked up at you, silently asking permission.

You nodded, lifting your hips, “Please, H, take them off.”

Harry obliged, undoing the zipper and button of your jeans and tugging them down your legs until you were left in just your panties. He lifted his head and drank you in, tugging down the cotton fabric until you were bare before him. Just like before, you felt a bit shy from the attention, but Harry wasn’t letting you cover up.

“Shit, baby, you’re even more beautiful than I thought you’d be.”

You had lost count of the amount of times you blushed, “Y-you thought about this?”

“So many times,” he confessed, “wanted to be the first one who made you feel good.”

“I’ve wanted that too. For so long. But you can’t do that if you still have your pants on,” you teased.

He chuckled, “I suppose you’re right. Want to help me?”

You nodded eagerly, tugging the zipper down on his ridiculously tight jeans and helping to shove them down his thick thighs. Now all that was separating you was his boxers. There was a sizeable tent in the fabric, and Harry laughed softly again when he caught you staring.

“Want me to take those off, too?”

You nodded, not bothering with words since he knew how needy you were. He guided your hand to the waistband of his underwear, encouraging you to drag them down. And you did so happily.

Holy shit, he was big.

Of course, this was the first time you had seen a cock, so you supposed you didn’t have much to go off of. But it looked big.

Harry could see the nerves return to your expression, “Don’t worry, lovely. It won’t hurt. I’ll open you up a bit first. Lay back down.”

You listened, laying your head back on the plush pillows as Harry leaned forward, hovering above you. His hands gently ran along your thighs. You knew he was doing it to make sure that you were comfortable, but quite honestly, you were beginning to get a little impatient.

“Want it, H. Need your fingers.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Not so shy anymore, hm? Am I making you wait too long?”

He didn’t give you a chance to answer his question, running his fingers through your folds to collect your wetness on his fingers. The response you would’ve had came out as a choked moan as you watched him slip his fingers into his mouth.

“Taste so fucking good,” Harry groaned, “definitely eating this perfect pussy next time.”

Heat rose to your cheeks once more at the implication that there would be a next time. But you didn’t have much of a chance to think about it as he used those fingers to spread your pussy open.

“So pretty,” he murmured almost to himself, dragging his fingers through your wet folds.

“Please, Harry,” you whined, tired of being teased.

He smiled at you, “Don’t worry, baby. Said I’d take care of you.”

And his first finger entered you, stretching your entrance in a way it hadn’t been before. Sure, you’d used your own fingers and a toy or two. But it was so different in the best way when someone else did it.

“Shit,” you gasped as he stretched you open, smirking at how tight you were against just one of his fingers.

“Relax for me, baby. Gonna need at least one more finger, if not two to make sure you’re nice and ready for me.”

You willed yourself to relax, allowing yourself to sink into the pillows as he pressed inside of you. He pulled out completely before re-entering with two fingers, making you moan out in pleasure.

“Oh fuck! Harry!”

“That’s it, beautiful. Look so good taking my fingers like this,” he praised, curling his fingers inside of you, “bet you’ll look even prettier with my cock.”

“Want it, Harry, please,” you begged.

“Not yet, pretty. Need to make sure you’re nice and stretched open for me.”

He took his sweet time, teasing you with the slow drag of his fingers. The sounds coming from your pussy were obscene, wetness squelching around his fingers as he fucked you. You could feel the coil in your belly and your pussy clenched around him.

“Gonna cum for me, baby? Can feel you squeezing me.”

You nodded, already too far gone to speak. Harry smirked, then leaned in to suck your clit.

You saw stars, vision becoming slightly fuzzy as you experienced the best orgasm of your life. He fucked you through it, fingers not stopping as you soaked them.

“That’s it, pretty. So good for me,” he praised.

When you came down from your high, Harry smirked at you, “Think you're ready for this cock, baby?”

“Please, Harry! Need to feel you in me, please,” you begged, not particularly caring if you sounded desperate.

He rolled a condom over his cock and lined himself up with your entrance.

Harry’s expression turned serious again, “Promise you’ll tell me if it hurts at all.”

You nodded, “I will, H, promise.”

Satisfied with your answer, he leaned in and kissed you softly as his tip breached your entrance. You gasped softly: if you thought his fingers stretched you out, it was nothing compared to the girth of his cock. Harry murmured soft encouragements into your skin as he slowly entered you, filling your pussy for the first time. You couldn’t speak even if you wanted to, the only sounds escaping your lips were broken whimpers. Soon, he was fully sheathed inside of you, making you the fullest you had ever been in your life.

“Harry,” you whined.

He smiled at you, lovingly brushing your hair from your face, “Feel okay, baby?”

You nodded, “So full. Move, please?”

Of course, he couldn’t say no if you asked so politely. So slowly, he rolled his hips, testing the waters. The sweet moan that spilled from your mouth was enough confirmation that you were ready. He pulled out almost entirely before slamming back in, setting a slow yet still somehow relentless pace as he fucked you. Choked gasps and whines fell from your lips with abandon as Harry pounded you. It was absolute bliss. He looked like an angel, long hair framing his perfect face as his brow was furrowed in concentration, determined to make you feel good.

“So good, Harry,” you managed to gasp out to assuage his worries.

He smiled then, lips brushing your temple as he continued his slow, yet powerful thrusts, “Yeah? You like it?”

“Love it,” you moaned as he brushed a spot inside of you, “Right there, H.”

“Here?” he asked cheekily as he hit that spot again, turning you into a pile of mush.

Harry sped up a bit, sensing that you could take more. You moaned desperately as he continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you with every thrust. His cock filled you deliciously, and quite honestly, you didn’t know how you went without it until now.

“Fuck, feel like I’m gonna cum soon, your pussy is just too perfect. Are you close, pretty?”

You nodded, feeling the coil in your belly once more, “So close, Harry! Please!”

“Need you to cum so I can. C’mon baby, give it to me,” he commanded.

One of his thumbs moved between your bodies, skillfully rubbing your clit. You writhed around his as your orgasm slammed into you, completely taking your breath away. Somehow, it was even better than the first one, your vision blurring even more as you clenched around him. You vaguely heard yourself whimpering his name brokenly as he spilled into the condom, groaning as he found his release. You were brought back to reality from the feeling of his lips brushing against yours, and you responded to his kiss as best you could.

He smiled, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks, “Was that good for you, baby?”

“Absolutely perfect, Harry. Thank you,” you answered shyly, running your fingers through his curls.

You may not be going to college together anymore in a few weeks, but you knew this wasn’t the last time you’d see him. Not when he treated you better than any other man possibly could.

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles story #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut imagine #harry styles fandom #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles request

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 2 years ago

Text

Who Needs Forever?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader

Summary: (Season 10) Rewrite of a portion of the episode “Stalker.” You and Lydia find Daryl after the fight with Alpha, and he’s barely hanging on.

Warnings: Blood and injury

A/N: This scene always bugged me. Daryl was damn near bleeding to death and somehow little Lydia was able to move him and patch up what could have been a fatal wound? Once again, I should be working on requests but my brain took a detour. I’ll get to them, I promise

gif by @jaaryl

The decrepit, little garage was lit only by the light of the moon by the time you followed Lydia to its doors. Adjusting Daryl’s crossbow on your shoulder, you called the girl’s name quietly, your expression conveying your earlier statement.

“We get her to tell us where Daryl is and then you do as you will. If she killed him, she belongs to me.”

Lydia nodded her acquiescence and entered before you. It was easy to make out Alpha on the ground but as you neared and could see the state she was in, the anxiety already resident in your stomach gnawed and twisted as a living being trying to claw its way out. Your steps quickened to bring you above daughter and mother, your breathing bordering hyperventilating. You stopped yourself, holding it in so you could hear what was being said.

The woman was spouting off her nonsense, her wheezing breaths barely audible. Your eyes narrowed. Wait. Those breaths weren’t Alpha’s. Lydia and her mother no longer existed to you. You spun in place, desperately seeking…

“Oh my god, Daryl!” You could only pray your cry had not been heard by walker or whisperer, but mostly you prayed for things to not be as bad as they appeared. “Daryl.”

He was on his back, face and neck bloodied. His hand laid limply against his thigh, a crimson pool spread beneath the drawn up leg. His eyes were closed and he was much, much too pale. Your pack and his crossbow were forgotten on the floor beside you while you cradled his face in your palms. “Daryl, open your eyes. Please, please, open your eyes.” Keeping your voice low was indeed nearly impossible in your panicked state.

His skin was cool, clammy; the fear that he had just lost too much blood…that you were too late…was at the forefront of your mind. Then he took a deep breath. His eyes rolled and lids fluttered as he struggled to open them. “That’s it. Come on, look at me.” Finally, finally, he managed mere slits of dull blue.

“m’I dead?” He could barely manage a whisper.

“No!” That came out so much harsher than you had meant it. “No, baby, you’re not dead.” You sniffled, smoothing back his hair. You didn’t even realize you were crying.

“Baby, huh?” He croaked out before a weak cough.

“Easy.” You allowed him to get his breathing back to the pitiful rasp it had been before giving him a wet smile. “Shut up, Dixon. You look like shit, so I’ll call you whatever I want.” He merely hummed and closed his eyes. “No, no, no. You gotta stay awake! Lydia! We have to go!”

“Shit,” came the girl’s quiet reply from behind you.

“Daryl.” His eyes fought to open again, less than the first time. “Daryl, we have to move you. We have to get you to Hilltop.” There was no point in asking if he could stand. The answer was obvious. He was already out again. “Lydia, help me get him up.” You didn’t wait for her reply before ripping the bottom of your shirt and tying it tightly around his leg. Questions burned at the back of your thoughts: did Lydia kill Alpha? Could you still trust her? But nothing could break through your determination to get Daryl to safety. Answers would have to wait.

“Should…should we be moving him?” The former Whisperer watched as you shouldered your pack and Daryl’s weapon before joining you to grab underneath the archer’s arm.

“We can’t stay here.”

He was dead weight as you grunted to lift him and pull his arm over your shoulder, Lydia mirroring you on his opposite side. The toes of his boots dragged noisily across the concrete on the way to the door. You deliberately kept your eyes averted from the enemy as you passed her body and exited the station. Alive or dead, her following would come for her and the three of you could not be there when they did.

You struggled along at a painstakingly slow pace for what felt like hours, the safety of the Hilltop community never seeming farther away than it did in that moment. Sweat dripped from your chin, your shirt dampened from perspiration.

“I need…a minute.” The young girl panted.

You didn’t answer for a moment, hoping she would just suck it up and continue onward for Daryl’s sake. Then she stumbled and barely righted herself.

“Okay. Alright, but just a few minutes.”

The archer was gently lowered to the ground with you immediately kneeling beside him while Lydia collapsed to her back. Resting actually gave you a moment to check in on him. His breaths were coming too fast. His pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings. Fuck. His lips were turning blue.

“Lydia! Here,” you choked out while sliding your pack from your shoulders. “Put this under his feet.” You grabbed the first aid kit and a bottle of water from inside and then tossed the bag toward her.

“What? Why?”

“He’s going into shock.” Peeling off your jacket, you placed it over him and then twisted the cap from the bottle. “We have to keep him warm. We can’t do a transfusion or an IV so we have to get fluids in somehow. I think I can sew up the wound but we have to do this first to start replacing what he’s lost.” God, if only you could build a fire without leading danger straight to you.

Everything you said was beyond what the girl could understand, you knew that. A battle raged within you whether to send her for help or keep her there in case you needed to move or defend Daryl. Getting water in him was proving to be a challenge. You settled for the incredibly slow process of tiny amounts followed by massaging his throat to get it down.

“What…how can I help?”

You heard her but didn’t reply, continuing your ministrations until a fourth of the water was gone. His leg was next. The makeshift bandage was already darkened and saturated with blood. Threading a needle wasn’t easy in the best of times, much less with nothing but moonlight and tears. “I need you to go to Hilltop.” You sniffled as you examined his leg with the help of a penlight from the kit. If his artery had been nicked, he would have already bled out. “Can you get yourself there from here?”

She gave a jerky nod.

“You’re sure?” You pressed with a no-nonsense glance.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m sure.” Lydia stood and prepared to go but you grabbed her wrist. You poured everything you could into the look when your words failed you.

Please, hurry.

She nodded again and then she was gone.

You took a deep breath before clasping the light between your teeth, leaving one hand free to clear the blood while you sewed with the other. The man under your hands didn’t stir. You would have given a vital organ for just a flinch. Minutes passed like hours, your hands trembling fiercely by the time you tied off the stitches, cleaned, and dressed the wound. With the major bleeding stopped, you checked the cut on his forehead. It was deep but was no longer bleeding and could be dealt with later. There were other lacerations that still bled sluggishly but were easily sealed off with gauze and tape. Then it was back to water until the bottle was empty.

Through it all, Daryl remained frighteningly unresponsive.

With nothing left to do but wait, you sat back against a tree and gingerly placed his head on your lap. His hair was slick with sweat and blood, causing tangles as you carded your fingers through the dark strands. His skin was colder than before and that terrifying blue tinge to his lips remained. Unable to stand the sight of him in such a state any longer, you clicked off the light.

His breathing remained shallow but seemed to have slowed. Two fingers to his neck proved that his pulse was still too fast but had also come down. At this point, you’d take any positive sign that he was holding on. “Don’t die on me, Dixon.” You whispered through a choked off sob.

“Don’t plan…on it.”

You gave a breathless, watery laugh and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “You’re too stubborn for that shit anyway, right?” He hummed in what you assumed was agreement.

“Alpha…dead?”

“I don’t know. Was too busy saving your lazy ass to ask.” You stroked his cheek with your knuckles when he made a sound that was suspiciously close to a chuckle. With a glance to the forest’s canopy, you could see the outline of the clouds from the first hints of daylight. Another check revealed that his pulse was now a little slower than you’d like but not dangerously so. “Stay with me, okay?”

“M’here.” His voice was barely above a whisper. You had to assume any energy he’d found was nearly tapped out. “Tired.”

“I know.” You adjusted the jacket closer to his body and took a moment to glance around for any signs of trouble. “Lydia went to get help. They’ll be here soon.” Another noncommittal hum. Or maybe he was just too weak for words now. “I swear, when we get you back on your feet, I’m never letting you out of my sight again.”

“Won’t be so bad.”

“You think that now. Wait til you need to pee.” You laughed through the last of your tears. You opened your mouth to add another scenario when you heard voices in the distance, one of which clearly called your name. “Sounds like the rescue party has arrived.”

“Yeah… so quit your cryin’.”

“Your fault, Dixon.” You shot back without heat.

“I know. M’sorry.”

“It’s fine.” You smiled. You could hear your friends running toward you now, Aaron’s voice carrying louder than the rest. “Just don’t make a habit of it.”

As the sun finally rose, you could see the corner of his mouth twitch.

“I’ll try my best.”

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