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lowkeyren · 5 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 · 8 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 · 5 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 · 1 year 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 · 8 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 · 2 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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lovelytsunoda · 4 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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picksnrolls · 4 months ago

Text

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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13as07 · 5 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?"

———————————————————————

#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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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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st-eve-barnes · 2 years ago

Text

Servant

(Aemond x Fem Reader)

Summary: based on a little prompt "I want you to watch me masturbate" where Aemond just wants his maid to watch but she wants to give him a little bit more.

Word count: +2400

Warning: 18+ for explicit content and language. Male masturbation, blow job. Reader is very submissive in this one.

I really enjoyed writing this dynamic so there might be more parts coming up in the future!

***

All my fics are also on AO3

***

Being Prince Aemond’s maid was the best job you could have wished for. You were a poor girl from a simple family, your parents barely had enough to survive and sustain you and your three sisters. There was no money or time for an education. As soon as you were able to you started working to earn money for yourself and your family.

You’d started out cleaning in the staff’s quarters of the Red Keep, then worked your way up to taking care of the guest quarters, a job you’d held for several years.

This last year you got your final promotion: maid for the royal family and more specifically Prince Aemond.

You were nervous at first, knowing nothing about the prince except what you’d heard around the corridors of the castle, that he was not a kind man, that he could be cold and cruel. And those weren't the worst rumors going around, some called him violent and unhinged, a dangerous man you didn’t want to cross paths with.

But that wasn’t your experience with him at all. After many months of working for Aemond you had found him to be kind, quiet and polite. He always treated you with gratitude and respect and never demanded too much from you.

You felt like the luckiest maid in the entire realm.

It was late that particular night, you had just finished washing and folding Aemond’s clothes and were on your way to deliver them to his chambers. You knocked on the door and waited for the prince to answer.

“Who is there?”

“It’s Y/N, your grace, I have your robes for tomorrow…I can leave them by the door.”

It was quiet for a moment and you were just about to put the clothes on the little table next to his door when he answered again.”Come in, please.”

You opened the door without giving it any second thought and stepped into his room.

Aemond must have just returned from the bath because his hair was still wet, clinging to his shoulders and bare chest but that wasn’t where your eyes were drawn to. He was completely naked and you couldn't help your gaze from traveling downwards.

The clothes you were holding almost fell to the floor in shock and for a moment you just stared, unable to help yourself. You quickly recovered and turned your back to him, averting your gaze and biting your lip.

“I’m sorry, your grace,” you stuttered,” I shouldn’t have looked, forgive me.”

Aemond just smiled, amused at your embarrassment and your obvious interest in his lower regions, ”You do not have to apologize, my dear. And I believe I have told you before there is no need for such formalities in here. Call me Aemond, please.”

“Aemond,” you sighed, still keeping your back to him,”I shouldn’t have come in this late, I'm sorry, I thought you said…”

“I asked you to come in,” he clarified.

“Oh.”

Confusion clouded your mind. You had known the prince for almost a year now but except for some small talk you two hadn’t really shared any actual conversations, and it definitely wasn’t a habit of him to invite you into his room this late at night. Aemond always kept to himself when you were around and he was usually quiet. And fully dressed.

“Why?” you asked.

“Why what?”

“Why did you ask me to come in?”

“Maybe I like the company.”

You felt him move behind you but you didn’t dare turn around, knowing he was still as naked as when you walked in and not trusting your eyes to not have a will of their own.

"Do you want company?" you asked, trying to focus on the conversation.

"I wouldn't mind it."

“I can look into getting one of the girls from the pleasure house, my prince. I’m sure they would only be too happy to…”

“No,” he interrupted you with a weak smile,”No, I don’t want any of them.”

His words only brought more confusion and your mind was running in too many different directions. You had no idea what he wanted.

“My lady, are you ever going to turn around and look at me?” Aemond interrupted your thoughts.

He had never called you my lady before today but something was different tonight-apart from him not wearing any clothes that is- the air in the room felt heavy and thick.

“I can’t, my prince, it would be improper, I am your maid,” you reminded him.

“I am well aware, Y/N,” he chuckled and hesitated a moment before asking his next question,“Have you ever seen a man naked before?”

This time it was your turn to smile, “I have, your grace. More than once actually.”

But no man like you. Those words died on your tongue and you shook your head, if this went on for much longer you were sure to say or do the wrong thing. You had always found the prince attractive, but you valued your job over anything else so it wasn’t something you allowed yourself to dwell on or really think about. He descended from dragon blood, you descended from nothing. You would never be more than his maid.

You sighed deeply, pushing those thoughts to the back of your mind and saying the only thing you could say. “I should go, your grace."

Aemond's face fell at your formal words but then he noticed that despite them you still hadn’t moved closer to the door.

"Are you a virgin, my lady?" he then asked.

You bit your lip and shook your head. Why was he asking those things when you were fighting so hard not to think such impure thoughts?

"Answer your prince," he insisted.

"No, I am not a virgin."

His lips curled up into a little smile and he slowly took a few steps closer to you. Even without looking you felt him and your body reacted instantly, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and if he came much closer he would hear it too.

When he took another step you could feel the heat from his body radiating against yours. His voice a heavy whisper against your ear now,"Do you want to go? Or do you want to look at me?"

You let out a shaky breath, the presence of him and how he was able to see into your mind, the teasing tone in his question…everything about him was clouding your judgment.

God, you wanted to look. But you worked for him, it was all kinds of wrong.

“It is a simple question, my dear. To which there is no wrong answer, I will not judge or belittle you for your choice.”

You stayed quiet for a moment and he did not press you for an answer, letting you decide in your own time.

Eventually you asked the question back to him,”What is it that you want, your gra…Aemond?”

You heard him step back from you again and immediately felt cold at the loss. But then his voice brought you back into the moment, low and almost challenging, “I want you to look.”

You sighed deeply realizing there was no way out of this, if you walked away right now you would regret it for the rest of the night, and probably a lot longer. His voice and his request had broken down your walls. You would probably regret this too, but at least you’d have something to remember.

You slowly turned around.

Aemond was sitting down in his chair by the fireplace, still fully naked, legs wide open and his cock half hard in between. The sight of him instantly took your breath away.

He smiled softly when he noticed how you stared and how flustered you had already become just from seeing him like this.

But you recovered quickly, slowly taking a few steps closer to him while your eyes came to rest on his.

“What can I do for you, your grace?” your question sounded innocent but the darkness in your eyes didn't lie.

You would have done anything he asked of you, no matter how improper or vulgar it may be.

Your gaze held onto him, your turn to challenge him now and it worked. The prince was blushing, his chest rising up and down fast under his heavy breath.“I want you to watch."

He wrapped his hand around his cock, stroking it lazily and slowly, never taking his eye off you. You were both breathing hard. The sight of him put an ache between your legs you hadn’t felt in a really long time.

“Take off your apron,” Aemond asked.

You did as he asked, slowly taking off your apron and letting it fall down to the floor. The dress you wore underneath showed more of your curves and even a little cleavage. It wasn’t much but it seemed to be enough for Aemond to be affected. His hand moved over his cock a little faster and more determined.

“The dress,” he continued,” Take it off.”

You followed his instructions again, unable to do anything else but obey. You took your time, noticing how he enjoyed every second of you teasing him, encouraging you to keep it going.

Your dress fell to the floor next to your apron, leaving you in just your underdress. You knew he could see more than just your curves now, the fabric being almost completely see through.

Aemond’s eye was no longer on yours now, it was on your body, drinking you in from top to bottom. He was flustered and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander as well, down to his hand and how it wrapped so perfectly around his now fully hard huge cock, his thumb circling the head, spreading his precum all over himself. You couldn’t help but wonder what his hand would feel like wrapped around your throat, or how those long delicate fingers would feel curled deep inside of your wet cunt.

You pressed your legs together, the ache down there quickly building into something you wouldn’t be able to ignore much longer.

You started pulling down the last layer of clothing hiding you from him but Aemond shook his head.

“No, leave it on,” he stopped you, his eye finding yours again,”Leave it on, my lady.”

You nodded and did as he asked.

“Come closer to me,” he then pleaded.

Your feet moved instantly at his words, as if he controlled your every move now. You stepped closer until you were standing right in front of him. You weren’t sure what came over you, it was as if you were hypnotized by that one piercing eye boring into your soul and pulling all the strings.

Your body seemed to have taken over from your mind and it only wanted one thing, to make the man in front of you fall apart.

You sank down to your knees and Aemond’s eye widened in surprise. Your hands moved up his thighs, making him hiss between his teeth while he kept pumping himself, faster now, suddenly no longer the one in control. His mouth fell open as he watched you in awe.

“My lady...fuck,” he breathed.

You slowly licked your lips while you moved your face in between his legs, all your attention focussed on his cock. You didn’t touch him, you just opened your mouth suggestively and then looked up at him.

Aemond looked wrecked, still in disbelief of what was happening and how eagerly you got down on your knees for him.

This wasn’t what he’d planned. None of this was what he’d planned, he never should have listened to Aegon and shared that last bottle of wine with him. Aemond was far from drunk but he was definitely buzzed, the loss of his inhibitions made him bolder than usual, not to mention horny as hell. This was exactly why he didn’t drink.

Because now here he was at the point of no return, having lost all self control. You held it all in the palm of your hand as it wrapped around his cock and took over from him, jerking him slowly. Aemond was afraid he would cum on the spot just from finally feeling your touch. He had imagined this countless of times but his fantasies could never live up to the real deal.

Your eyes looked up at him with so much lust as you leaned in and took him into your mouth, your heat and wetness engulfing him so perfectly Aemond thought he might die.

His head fell back against the chair and he moaned shamelessly, no longer able to hold back, hands gripping the sides of the chair.

You continued pumping him slowly while letting your mouth get used to the feel of him, trying to take him in a little deeper with every bop of your head.

“Yes…just like that,” Aemond finally found his voice again, encouraging you as he moaned,”Gods, please don’t stop…you feel so good…oh my sweet girl…fuck…yes…”

Your free hand searched for his, grabbing his wrist and guiding him towards your head. Aemond took the hint, he gently caressed your scalp and then grabbed a fistful of your hair, guiding your movements, letting him set the rhythm.

He wanted to go slow, savor every moment of this but his body was betraying him. He could feel how close he was already, your mouth and your hand pushing him closer to that edge.

“Faster,” he moaned,”Please…faster….oh gods…fuck…don’t stop…I’m gonna come…”

When you dug your nails into his thighs and moaned around his cock he was done for. He fucked your mouth mercilessly and it didn't take more than a few thrust for him to fall apart completely. He wanted to pull out but you didn’t budge, sucking him down until you felt his hot white cum fill the back of your throat. Aemond was whimpering beneath you, hands tightening in your hair as you swallowed all of him.

You felt him grow weak in your mouth and took your time licking him clean, he was still breathing hard and moaning softly, coming down from his high. His hand in your hair lost its grip and he leaned back against the chair, trying to calm down his racing heart.

"You're so good," he breathed in a whisper,"So good to me...my sweet girl...gods...your mouth is heaven.."

You smiled softly and got comfortable on the floor in between his legs. You wanted nothing more but to stay right there by his side, your hand softly caressing his leg while you rest your head on his thigh. All thoughts of your own needs were forgotten, somehow this was all you needed and all you wanted tonight, to take care of him and make him feel good. Nothing else mattered.

Aemond closed his eye, his hand finding its way back to your head, caressing your hair and gently scratching your scalp.

He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to speak anymore, didn’t want to do anything that could ruin the magic of this moment.

You were so beautiful and so good to him and he had no idea what he had done to deserve this. But he would hold onto it, even if it was only for tonight.

Maybe he should thank Aegon for that bottle of wine after all.

***

Part 2

#aemond smut #aemond x reader #aemond imagine #aemond #aemond x female reader #aemond x you #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #hotd smut #aemond targaryen fanfic

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year 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.”

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #daryl dixon x gn!reader #Spotify

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theidiotwhowritesthings · 2 years ago

Text

TAKE CARE OF YOU

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 4,312

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It's why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn't look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn't be so hard. Would it?

[a/n: i know what you're thinking. 'JJ, what the hell are you doing?' The answer to that question, always, is 'I have no fucking idea'. But, this idea gripped my soul. Oops.]

01: YOU WORK A BUNCH THEN ONE DAY YOU DIE

"i don't want a sugar daddy but maybe like a sugar buddy. i just hit him up like, 'Hey how are you today?' and he replies, 'Doing great thanks for asking here's $7,000.'" -unknown

The life you lived was simple and boring. You were reminded of this fact as Nima rambled through a story about how her blind date last night had turned into a bar brawl which spiraled into a stint in the emergency room. Meanwhile, you had binged a show you'd already watched a dozen times on Netflix while shoveling popcorn down your throat. This worked perfectly for you though. You got to stay in your comfort zone while living vicariously through your best friend’s disasters.

“Please tell me you won’t be seeing her again.” You chuckled.

Nima scoffed, “Hell no. She could not carry her own in that bar brawl. That’s why we ended up in the ER.” She scrunched her nose then shrugged. “But she’s fine now. The girl only needed like seven stitches.”

You shook your head and breathed out a laugh. For the entire time you had known her, going on a decade now, Nima had never dated a normal woman. It was almost impressive how terrible her record was.

The Korean woman’s hair was dyed a solid bubble gum pink and tied up into two messy buns atop her head. Her clothes were a patchwork of pastel colors that showed off her toned midriff and long legs. The purse wrapped around her chest was shaped like a giant strawberry and the large headphones wrapped around her neck were equally as bright as the rest of her. Everything about Nima was a blur of chaos and energy and people couldn’t help but be drawn to her. Add that to her awful taste in women and it was the perfect recipe for her wild dating history.

“Why did we come here?” You asked as your eyes scanned the menu of the coffee shop. The two of you were in the very long line waiting to reach the register, and you had to lean to the side to see around the broad man standing in front of you both. “It’s so overpriced.”

“I follow this girl on insta and she said they have the best lavender matcha latte.” Nima shimmied her shoulders in excitement. “It looked amazing.” She bumped her hip against yours. “What are you gonna get?”

“Will you yell at me if I say vanilla latte?”

“Yes!” Nima scoffed. “That’s so boring! Get one of their specialty drinks at least!”

“Like?”

Nima scanned the menu then pointed at something. “Get the cotton candy frappe!”

You chuckled and continued to scan the menu. There had to be a middle ground option between those two. The line continued to move and Nima had switched from her dating life to her newest project at work. She was an engineer currently working in construction. You were immensely proud of the success she had found in her passions. Honestly, a bit jealous as well. You were in the northern end of your twenties and you had still yet to find something you loved. It was like the world had hit pause on the momentum of your life post college. Time flew by, years passed, but nothing had changed.

The man in front of you reached the register and you realized you’d have to pick something soon. You heard him order something simple⏤ like you had planned. You didn’t pay him much mind until you noticed him patting his pockets growing more frantic with his motions as he realized he was missing something. Finally, he groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose. From the angle you stood at, you could just barely see his profile, but it was enough to see his face was scrunched up in frustration. You glanced over at Nima, who was texting, then back to the man who was obviously having a terrible day.

“Sir?” The boy working the till questioned.

“Just⏤” The man huffed as if he were trying to wrap his mind around something. You assumed there was more going on than just a lack of money to buy some coffee. Not having the means to pay for something was probably just the icing on the cake for him. It wasn’t a situation you were unfamiliar with. 'Been there, done that'.

Quickly, you stepped up to stand beside him and fished out your card. “Add a, uh, cinnamon roll latte to that order please. I’ll pay.”

“Wait.” The man held his hand out to argue, but the guy at the register was already swiping your card. He wrote the orders out and motioned for Nima to step up next. The man stepped away from the register without tearing his eyes away from you. His stare was inquisitive and confused. “You didn’t have to do that.”

He had a southern drawl to his words that you didn’t hear often in this part of Los Angeles. Your eyes scanned his figure which looked even more broad when you stood in front of him. The man wore a worn out red flannel with old blue jeans and work boots. His hair was a bit messy, fluffed and slightly curled at the ends, in mostly shades of brown with a bit of silver peppered in. The silver was more prominent in the scruff along his jawline. He was handsome, there was no denying that. Even with his eyebrows furrowed and his lips drawn out in a frown, you couldn’t help but admire him.

“Don’t worry about it.” You shrugged. “You looked like you were having a rough day. We all need a helping hand now and again.”

When Nima finished ordering you turned your focus on her, but she said she was running to the bathroom and disappeared. It left you standing alone next to the man waiting for the drinks to be made. Which would be fine if you didn't feel his gaze still burning into you. Awkwardly, you crossed your arms. You were overthinking it. Paranoid. He probably wasn’t even paying you any mind anymore. To reassure yourself, you glanced over at him only to realize you had not been paranoid. Your eyes locked with his soulful brown ones. Handsome brown eyed men were a menace to society. Nobody should have that much power with just a gaze. Panicked and embarrassed, you snapped your gaze forward once more.

“Thank you.” He said gruffly.

“Like I said,” You cleared your throat, “It’s no problem.”

“I’d love to pay you back.”

You turned to face him, letting out a small laugh, but he didn’t join in. The man just stared at you patiently. Your laughter died as you blinked at him in surprise. “Wait, really?” He nodded. “That seriously isn’t necessary. It was like five dollars.”

“Doesn’t matter. It��s the principle.”

“Listen, you seem stubborn, but I promise you I’m worse.” You joked and the corner of his lip curled up into an amused smile that was gone as quick as it came. You almost wondered if you imagined it. “Just… the next time you’re out and you see someone struggling, pay it forward. Deal?”

He didn’t reply for a moment. Just stared, and it took all your willpower not to glance away again. Finally, he crossed his arms over his chest. You mentally cursed when your dumb eyes traced the lines of his arms. No ogling the stranger. He nodded once. “You drive a hard bargain.” A small smile cracked his otherwise solemn features and this time it lingered long enough for you to actually acknowledge it. “But you got yourself a deal, darlin’.” Your cheeks burned again at the term of endearment. He paused before holding out a hand to you. “I’m Joel.”

You shook his hand, his much larger one enveloping yours entirely, and you offered him your own name. Silence settled between the two of you, but it only lasted a beat before your orders were called out. Joel’s long stride had him at the counter before you got there. He picked up your coffee first and offered it to you before taking his own.

“Thanks.” You chirped.

“I’m thankin’ you, remember?” Joel lifted his simple cup as a reminder. He gave you a slight nod. “It was nice to meet you, darlin’.”

“Uh, you too! Hope your day gets better!” You gave him a small wave.

Joel turned to leave and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trail up and down his entire body. His jeans could not fit him more perfectly. Ogling the stranger was okay, you decided, as long as said stranger wasn’t watching you do it. As you shamelessly checked him out, you didn’t notice your friend drift back to you. “Nice.” You jumped in surprise. Nima was grinning at you in excitement. “Please tell me you got a number.”

“A number?” You scoffed. “Are you crazy??”

“I saw sparks!”

You rolled your eyes, “You literally see sparks everywhere, Nima.”

“Okay, yeah, maybe, but one of these days I’m gonna be right.” She argued. “Statistically, speaking.”

You changed the topic of conversation, which was always easy to do with Nima, and took a sip of your coffee. It was a bit too sweet for your taste, but the trip to this pretentious coffee shop hadn’t been a complete waste. How often did people get a chance to chat with a handsome, older southern gentleman?

The bakery you worked out was a small family owned business. The owner, a cute little old man named Henry Pack, was an old friend of your father’s and when you showed interest in work he hired you without hesitation. That was two years ago. The initial plan was for this to be temporary. A way to earn money so you could pay bills and save up to finish your degree. However, life had dished out hit after hit and suddenly your temporary plan had turned more permanent.

Plus, the shop wasn’t doing well, it wasn’t getting the traffic it used to, and Henry was getting older and older. He needed the help and even if something else came up⏤ whether it be better paying or more enjoyable⏤ you didn’t think you’d be able to leave Henry behind. Not after all he had done for you.

You wiped down the counter once more mostly out of boredom. The last customer had been in and out nearly an hour ago. Henry walked in from the back office and you glanced over at him. He was a short, portly man with ruddy cheeks and a kind smile. It hurt your heart how stressed he had been as of late.

“Have you noticed much foot traffic outside?” He asked, hopeful.

“A bit.” You nodded. “Lunch just ended. I’m sure that’s why we have a lull.”

“Right, right.” Henry replied as if trying to convince himself.

The older man knelt down to root around in the lower cabinets. You offered to find whatever it was he was looking for, knowing he had bad knees, but he brushed your hands away stating he was just fine. With a sigh, you thought now was the best time to bring up the question that had been plaguing you.

“Henry, I need to talk to you about maybe a… a raise?”

He glanced up from where he was knelt with a frown. “I told you, hon. I can’t afford to pay you more. No matter how much I wish I could.” Henry sighed. “Well, maybe if I…”

“Never mind.” You said quickly. It was clear that your question was distressing to Henry. It wasn’t his fault you weren’t making the kind of money you needed. He was barely scraping by as well with the costs of keeping this place open. Henry gave you a sad smile⏤ an apology. He finished what he was doing and wandered back to his office. You blew out a frustrated breath. Maybe you could pick up a new job. The problem was that you were already working a crazy amount of hours here at the bakery. If you were somehow able to become the first human alive who didn't require sleep then that could work.

You covered your face with your hands and leaned back against the counter. For most of your adult life, you only had yourself to rely on financially. It was fine. That was the hand life dealt you. Nima was constantly offering to pay for certain things, or trying to loan you money, but you always refused. Too prideful to take her money with no guarantee that you’d be able to pay her back or offer her anything in return.

The sound of a bell chime startled you and you pushed off the counter quickly to try and regather your bearings. You cleared your throat and turned toward the door to offer the guest a smile. A greeting began to leave your lips, but it was cut short when you realized you recognized the man crossing the space to reach the register. It was the handsome coffee guy from a week ago.

“Well, you’re a familiar face.” You chuckled. “Joel, right?”

“Right.” He looked surprised that you remembered his name. Joel cleared his throat and came to stand in front of the register to face you. He had on a similar outfit to the last time you saw him. Flannel and jeans, but he seemed a bit more put together today. “Are you guys closed?”

“No. It’s just a… slow day.” All the days were slow actually. You straightened your apron, the only uniform item required for you to wear, and offered him a bright grin. “What can I get for you, sir?”

Joel glanced over the menu then the display case before nodding. “Muffins?”

“Okay.” You nodded when he gave you no further information. His eyes just snapped back to you. “What kind? How many?”

His eyes widened and he forced his gaze back to the display. “Just, uh, six of the blueberry?”

You bit back an amused chuckle and moved to start packing a box with his order. It was funny to you that this man had come into a bakery without an order in mind. After closing the box, you set it on the counter in front of him. “So, do you make a habit of popping into bakeries to order random things? Just passing by and thought ‘why not?’.”

“Somethin’ like that.” Joel chuckled. He reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He gave it a small wave and nodded at you. “I have money with me today.”

“Very nice. I’m impressed.”

“Thank you.” He flipped it open and pulled out a card to hand to you. You hadn’t even told him how much the muffins would be. “I triple checked before leavin’ the house.” You handed him back the receipt with his card, and Joel put them away without making any move to leave. “How long have you worked here?”

You leaned against the counter. “About 2 years now. A family friend owns the shop.”

“Are you the one who,” Joel motioned to the display, “bakes?”

It was odd to you that the man sounded so nervous about having a simple, casual conversation. It was as if he was rusty at the skill and was attempting to stretch out those old muscles. With a small, amused smile, you shrugged. “Some of it. Henry is the main baker, he’s incredible, and I learned from him.”

“Is it somethin’ you enjoy?”

“Meh.” You answered honestly. “I’ve gotten decent at it, but I don’t necessarily love it. Just sort of fell into it.” Joel nodded and his pretty brown eyes darted around like he was looking for a new conversation topic. You threw him a bone. “What about you? What do you do?” You motioned to him and teased. “I’m guessing lumberjack.”

Joel chuckled, “Lumberjack?”

“Yeah.” You pushed off the counter to stand straight. “If I squinted I‘d mix you up with the Brawny guy.” His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and you let out a mocking scoff. “You know? The paper towel lumberjack.”

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes and a breathy laugh left him. Joel shook his head. “Can’t say I’ve gotten that one before, darlin’.”

“Where are you from?” You blurted curiously. “There’s no way you picked up that drawl living in LA.”

“No, I didn’t.” Joel replied. “Texas. I’m from Texas.”

“Ah. That fits. You’re like a cowboy then.”

Joel rested his hands on the counter, “Am I a lumberjack or a cowboy? I’m gonna need you to make up your mind here.”

“Hm, can I get three to five business days to decide?”

“I suppose.” Joel nodded.

The door chime rang out and you glanced over to see another person wander in. For the first time ever, you found yourself disappointed to see a paying customer. Joel cleared his throat, dragging your attention back to him, and you watched as he opened up his wallet again to pull out a crisp five dollar bill. You laughed with a shake of your head as he shoved it into the tip jar.

“It was nice to see you again.” Joel said.

“You too. Have a good day.”

Joel picked up the box of muffins and on his way out he called back, “I’ll be back to find out if I’m a lumberjack or cowboy, darlin’. So get to thinkin'.”

Your cheeks warmed in amusement and you wondered if he was actually serious or if that was just a teasing joke. The other customer reached the register, and you turned to greet them. The stress of thinking about your bills and work life had been briefly soothed by the distraction of talking to Joel. That was nice.

Shockingly, Joel hadn’t been joking. He came back a few days later, ordering something random and on the spot, then demanded to know if he was a cowboy or a lumberjack. You had convinced him to give you more time to think as you joked that you needed further evidence to assess. That had been the start of a habit. Joel would randomly come in just to chat every few days or so and buy a new baked good from you.

A few times, he had walked in while you were helping other customers, but he always waited until they were rung up and on their way out before initiating any conversation with you. It was during the fifth visit that you could tell he was nervous about something. After some time he had gotten more comfortable talking to you, but today it was almost like he had recessed back to that first time.

“Are you workin’ this weekend?” Joel asked after ten minutes of small talk.

“Only on Sunday.” You admitted. “I’m picking up some extra shifts.”

“More shifts? Don’t you already work ‘em all?”

You chuckled. “Not all of them, but definitely most. But, hey, that’s life, right? You work a bunch and then one day you die.” Joel always seemed uncomfortable when you talked about your work schedule in any fashion. “Why do you ask?”

He had furrowed his brow at your working comment, but it quickly smoothed out as he shifted in place. It was cute to see a man as large and intimidating as he could be squirming over whatever topic he was trying to bring up. You stayed silent and let Joel mull it over. While he worked out whatever was on his mind, you could admire how well his plain t-shirt fit him.

“Nothin’. Just curious is all, darlin’.” Joel finally coughed out and you bit back a frown.

“What about you?”

Joel shrugged. “Workin’ some. Stayin’ busy.”

Multiple conversations ago he had revealed that he worked as some kind of contractor. You didn’t know much about that job other than it had something to do with building houses? Maybe? When you asked for more details he had stayed pretty vague.

“I should head out.” Joel cleared his throat holding the box of cookies in his hands.

“Oh. Yeah.” You nodded. “Sure. It was nice to see you as always, Joel.”

Joel gave you a tight lipped smile before turning on his heel and beginning to leave. He was halfway to the door before he spun on his heel and marched back⏤ startling you. Joel set the box down on the counter, hands resting on the edge, and kept his eyes downcast.

“I have a…proposition.” He blurted. Joel’s eyes snapped up to meet yours and the weight in those warm brown eyes nearly knocked you to your knees. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t harboring a small crush on this man. Despite him being nearly two decades older than you, if you garnered a guess, the attraction you felt to him was not affected. In fact, it probably made you a bit more attracted to him. You knew that a therapist would probably cry out ‘daddy issues’, but you also had a hard time believing anyone could not be attracted to this man.

That being said, a part of you⏤ a very small part that you were too scared to encourage⏤ was really hoping he could be asking you out to dinner or drinks. Was that silly and unrealistic? Probably. It didn’t extinguish that little flame of hope though. You shrugged. “Proposition?”

“I wanna take care of you.” Joel spoke firmly. As if by just bringing this topic up, he had shed his nerves and was focused solely on selling you whatever this proposition was. You narrowed your eyes confused at his wording. The man continued. “Help you out, darlin’.”

“With?”

“Anythin’ and everythin’.” Joel sighed. “You name it and it's yours.”

You let out a confused chuckle. It was like the tables had turned and now you were the one who felt nervous. You buried your hands into your apron pockets and tilted your head. “Not to sound dense, but, uh, what?” Joel didn’t immediately reply. He just stared at you and his eyes burned straight to your soul. A warmth churned in your belly. “I just need you to be specific about what you’re offering because it’s going to be really awkward if I’m misunderstanding you.”

“I’m offerin’ you a life of ease. You work too much, doing somethin’ you don’t even love, and even when you’re off I bet all you do is stress about havin’ to work more to afford rent and bills. Am I wrong?” Joel challenged. You twisted your lips not having a solid argument. He wasn’t wrong. “So… let me take care of you, darlin’.” The choice of his words, the sound of his accent, in his gruff voice sent chills down your spine. You swallowed the lump in your throat and squirmed under his heavy gaze. “I’d love nothin’ more.”

“Nothing more? I… I don’t think that’s usually how that works.” You mumbled softly. An almost sickening feeling filled your gut. No amount of attraction to Joel would soften the idea of him paying you for sex. That’s what he was asking right? Joel makes you comfortable, pays all your bills, and in return you fuck him?

Joel must have noticed the shift in your mood because he held out a hand in surrender. “I know what you’re thinkin’. Not like that. I wouldn’t expect…” He winced. A bit of his nerves crept back into his features. “I wanna take care of you, and all I ask in return is that you allow me to do that. Offer some platonic company. Someone to talk to. Plus, occasionally, I’d need…a date. No strings there either. Work drags me to a bunch of real stupid conferences and outings. Having someone to talk to durin’ those things would be…nice.”

“That’s it?” You found it hard to fully trust that. As much as you had enjoyed your conversations with him, you still barely knew him. “You’d offer someone a little cash to chat with them?”

“Not just a little cash.” Joel said firmly. “Everything. Takin’ care of you isn’t somethin’ I’d want to half ass, darlin’.”

“That’s even less believable.” You said skeptically.

Joel nodded. “Fair. How about this,” He cleared his throat, “You said you’re off Saturday?” You nodded. “Let’s meet. Talk about this. No pressure. You can ask any and all questions you have.”

You chewed on your lower lip in thought. Saturday was two days away. “Can I think about that? Before I even agree to meet you.”

“Of course.” Joel nodded. He pulled a business card from his wallet and held it out for you to take. You reached out for it, and the brush of his fingers against your hands gave you goosebumps. “I want you to be comfortable. Call me if you’d like. Or… if you’d rather never see or contact me again I⏤ I get that too, darlin’.”

You stared down at the card, but realized it wasn’t a business card like you thought. It was the same size, but he had scribbled his name and cell phone number on it for you. Joel mumbled a quick good-bye before heading to the door again. You called out to him, looking up from the card, and he paused to glance over his shoulder.

“Why me?” You questioned. It seemed so random. Situations like this didn’t happen to people like you. They happened to people like Nima. People who were willing to step out of their comfort zone and put themselves out there. This couldn’t possibly have stemmed from this man forgetting his wallet one day and you being in the vicinity to fix that problem.

Joel’s lips curled up into a small smile and he shrugged. “I, uh, I like talkin’ to you, is all.”

The chime of the door as he left echoed through the otherwise quiet room. Your eyes glanced back down to the card where ten numbers stared up at you dauntingly. Just above it, written in a messy scrawl, was his first and last name. ‘Joel Miller’. It wasn’t until you read his name for the seventh time that you realized you were actually considering his offer.

[next]

✨J.M. Masterlist✨

#the last of us #joel miller #modern au #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #sugar daddy!joel miller #slow burn #reader insert #female reader #tlou #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal characters

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ohbo-ohno · 1 year ago

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Hi, I love your writing so so so so so much and it's like my goal in life to get as good as writing as you, but I was just wanting to ask if you would write a ghoap puppy play drabble but with a ftm reader, I don't wanna make you uncomfortable but I actually can't find any puppy play stuff with a ftm reader in it and I would literally worship the ground you walk on if you did (if you don't feel comfortable doing this please don't)

yknow i dont take requests but you're actually the sweetest person alive (and i want to write puppy play rn) so sure!!! tysm for such kind words <3 (also your goal should be to get 10x better than me but i love you anyway)

1.8k of ghoap x ftm!reader with puppy play :) words used for reader's genitalia are cunt, hole, and cock (also reader is called pretty once)

It's a struggle not to beg, but you're a good boy. You stay still on your knees, paws resting on the wood below you, and you focus all of your attention on staying good.

Johnny's not good. Johnny's never a good boy, and usually that's a blessing for you, but right now it's a curse.

A whine slips from your lips, unintentional but loud. You lick your lips, swallow, and try to settle. Still, you've drawn Ghost's attention.

His hand stills in the air and he cocks an eyebrow. "Need somethin', pup?"

You lick your lips beneath the wire muzzle, shake your head. You don't need anything, you only want his hands on you. Simon's the only one who decides what you want.

He lands another smack against Johnny's bared ass, and the other pup wriggles on his lap, eyes screwed up - in pain or pleasure, you can't tell.

"Look'it him," Ghost rumbles, grabbing Johnny by the mohawk and forcing him to look at where you're knelt several feet away. "He's gotta wait for his turn because you can't remember how to be good. That seem fair?" He shakes Johnny's head for him, and you catch him smirk when Johnny whines. "You'd be barkin' and howlin' like I'd fuckin' shot you if your positions were reversed, but he's sitting there, nice and pretty."

You shift on your knees, padded hands tapping the floor in an effort to expel any of your energy. You pant with your mouth wide open, keep your eyes locked on Ghost, trying to ignore the clenching of your hole on nothing but air.

"Poor puppy," Ghost coos, voice edging into that part-affectionate part-condescending tone that makes you drip. "Having to watch me punish Johnny, when you should be getting all my attention. Is not fair, is it?"

That's a trick question, you know it. Anything Simon decides is fair, that's how this works, and you know intuitively that there's no right answer.

You whine, then yip, leaning forward a bit.

He laughs, letting go of Johnny's head and delivering another blow, this one making Johnny wail from behind his own muzzle.

"Little longer, pup," Ghost calls over Johnny's cries, every smack nearly as loud. "Just keep bein' good for me."

You can't help your noises as you watch Johnny's punishment, but you don't move. Your hips rock against the air, but you don't try and push your paws against your cock, don't try and get yourself off without permission.

You're good, you're a good boy. Ghost said so.

You try to keep your breathing even, try to keep yourself away from that cliff-edge of desperation that can get you in trouble, but it's almost impossible with the show you're watching

Johnny's face is red, streaked with tears as he takes his punishment. His thighs and ass are the same shade of red, and the cock hanging between Ghost's spread knees matches too. He's kept hard by the black cock ring at his base, but you know he doesn't need it. His feet kick and push at the couch cushions to no avail, his mitted hands punching and pushing at the arm of the couch.

He's more muted than you, his muzzle a thick leather instead of wire, but you can still hear the way he cries. Johnny's always been loud, and he's not shy about voicing his displeasure.

Eventually, Simon begins to slow his strokes, the sound of his slaps becoming quieter and the time between each one lengthening. Johnny's cries quiet to sniffles, and you shift forward even more, knowing what's coming.

You just barely manage to hold back a whine.

"See?" Ghost rumbles, stroking up and down Johnny's sweat-slick back. "You're alright, hush now. You bring it on yourself, Johnny. Wouldn't need a punishment if you could behave more than five minutes."

His eyes shift up to yours, and you can't bite back the whine this time. Ghost smiles at you as he shifts Johnny from his lap to the floor.

"Nothing like you, huh pup?" He raises a hand, motions you forward, and you're quick to crawl to him. You shove your head into his hand, melting into the scratches through your hair. Soap stays hunched on the floor next to you, head resting on Ghost's knee as he catches your breath.

"Yeah, you're my well-behaved puppy. Nothing like the mutt, hm?" You lean further into his hand, smiling when he chuckles and gives you the pets you desperately want. "My well trained pure-bred, hm? Maybe I should enter you in shows, let everyone see how perfect you are."

Johnny whines from next to you, digging his face further into Ghost's knee. Simon scoffs, but pets him too.

"Nah, couldn't do that with you, mutt. You'd embarrass me just for the punishment." His words are mean but Ghost's tone is soft, and Johnny's eyes nearly roll back in his head at the soft scratches to his scalp. "But you'd be jealous if he got all the attention, wouldn't you?" Ghost sighs, then uses his hands to push the both of you in so your muzzled cheeks are pressed together. "Guess I'll have to keep you all for myself."

Despite your own arousal, it's not too difficult for you to sit and wait while Ghost coaxes Johnny out of his punishment-headspace. It's nice to float in the softness, so rare with the three of you, and you're content with Ghost's hand on your head.

Eventually, he moves away.

"Alright, you want your treat, pup?"

You blink hazy eyes open, shifting to try and follow his hand with a whine. He smiles at you, and grabs you by the nape of the neck to guide you more fully between his legs.

"C'mon, don't you want a reward for bein' a good boy? I think Johnny deserves one too, for takin' his punishment so well."

Soap is quicker to perk up than you, quickly crawling so he's behind you. Realizing what's going on, you sit up more fully on your knees and brace your paws on Ghost's thighs, looking up at him and smiling.

"Pretty thing," he coos. "Don't worry, you'll get to come. Johnny." He snaps, the sound loud right next to your ear. "Go on. Mount him."

Johnny doesn't have the self-control to give you time to adjust, or to go slowly. One minute you're empty and aching, the next you're stuffed to the brim and stretched wide around Johnny's cock.

You both moan, and you feel the leather of his muzzle bump against your naked shoulder. You melt into the space between Ghost's thighs, eye-level with his cock tugged out of his pants as Johnny fucks you without giving you any time to adjust.

You whine loudly, eyes screwing shut at the near painful drag of his cock in and out of your hole. It's good to be filled, satisfying an ache that you've been fighting for what feels like hours, but your body can't help but fight the intrusion, pushing you further up on your knees and making you look up at Ghost for comfort.

He only smirks and pets a hand through your hair as Johnny snarls at your attempt to get away, paws landing on your shoulders and pushing you down into his ruthless thrusts. He snarls at your yelp, wide even behind the muzzle.

"You're alright," Ghost says, hand guiding your head to rest on his inner thighs. "We both know you like it rough, pup, be a good boy and let Johnny give you what you need."

He's right, Ghost is always right, and it doesn't take long for the sharp stretch to turn to pleasure, for the heavy drag of Johnny's cock in and out of you to leave you moaning instead of whining.

You pant with an open mouth, tongue lolling out to rest on your tongue as you try and breathe through the fucking, brain scrambled. Johnny's just as loud behind you, snarls and grunts and moans slipping through the leather as he bullies himself inside of you.

"There ya go, good boy," Ghost rumbles, giving you a solid pat. "Both of you, my two good boys. You're fuckin' him so good, Johnny, giving him such a good treat."

You work your hips against Johnny, pushing back in search for more pleasure, and whine high in your throat when it's still not enough.

"Y'need more, puppy?" Ghost asks, and you nod yes as vigorously as you can with your whole body being rocked in place.

"Here," he grunts as he shifts, moving one leg between your thighs and pressing his boot against your cock. You melt at the sensation, shoving yourself up and grinding against the strings. Your cries are almost deafening as Johnny's thrusts don't falter, the combination of stimulation heavenly.

"Go on, get yourself off. You've earned it."

You don't last long after that. You work your hips against his boot, the texture rough but perfect against your slick and swollen cock, sensitive hole still pounded mercilessly by Johnny. You feel insane with pleasure, eyes rolled back in your head and drool slipping endlessly down your chin as you let yourself drown in in.

You clench hard around Johnny when you finally come, cunt clenching him and milking him for all he's worth. He howls from behind his muzzle, pressing his face along your neck. You know if his mouth was free he'd be marking you, sucking bruises into your skin and covering you in his spit. You almost whine at the lack of it.

But you're far too drenched in your own euphoria to miss anything, really, your only focus on pushing yourself to higher heights of pleasure.

You float down, eventually, but you're immediately thrown into overstimulation as Johnny's pace continues exactly as it was. He continues to pound into your mercilessly, the sound of your slick shameful in the quiet room.

You paw in a panic at Ghost's thighs, looking up at him with wide eyes as you press closer to try and get away from the cock rearranging your insides. He only smirks and presses his boot up, the pressure against your cock so soon after an orgasm absolute torture.

"Let Johnny have his treat now," he scolds lightly, giving you a slight tap to your cheek that has you trying to nuzzle yourself into the crease between his thighs and hip. "Maybe he'll manage to get off, even with that pretty ring on his cock. Let's let him try, hm?"

You look up at him with vision blurred by tears, whining as you balance the sharp edge of pleasure-pain from Johnny's minstrations.

Ghost only smirks, petting you again. "Hang tight, pup. Be a good boy for me, let our other boy have his fun."

You whine, and bury your face next to his cock, trying to breathe evenly as Johnny only drives himself more and more insane inside your cunt.

#i really don't mind writing male reader stuff it's just not my default with cod for some reason #but i never imagine myself as my reader-inserts so it doesn't change much for me lol #asks and answers #ghoap x reader #ghoap x male reader #male reader #bo writes

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