#i just haven't fixated on something like this in. a Long Time and i feel like. can feel joy again in a way i havent in years

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

I hate when I get into these phases when once I process through one thing causing me anxiety there's another thing right behind it

[lycanr0t]

adhd/autism hyperfixation mode activates and i gain two status effects

im having so much fun weeee!!! my brain is so happy lalalala!!! i think about the fun thing all the time and have so many ideas and thoughts tee hee haha!!

i lose all connection to this world. time isnt real. all survival skills are debuffed to the point of barely or not functioning. if i dont think about and engage with fun thing for 99.9999999999% of the day i feel like im going to die. i forget to eat and drink and sleep and bathe and do chores and it genuinely makes me unable to function

[cruel-as-sin]

take the weight off his shoulders | logan howlett

pt. 2

↳ summary: you're a stripper and old man!logan comes into the club where you work- so you decide to show him a good time.

word count: 3k

song: older | isabel larosa

pairings: old man!logan x fem!stripper!reader

content warnings: 18+ content (MDNI), smut, porn w/o plot, prostitution/strip clubs, age gap (readers age is unspecified but she is an adult), praise kink, gentle sex, striptease and lapdance hehe, size difference, protected p in v, grinding, handjob, lingerie mentioned, the glasses stay on, practice safe sex everyone (lmk if i missed anything!)

↳ a/n: ao3 saw this first and it took way too long for me to move it over to tumblr but. here it is lmao. as i said there old man logan does something CRAZY to me so it was only fitting i wrote about him, enjoy! also this is not proofread so apologies for any mistakes :’)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Logan's not sure why he goes into the club across the street.

Maybe he needs to feel young again. Maybe he's bored. Maybe the adamantium poisoning the rest of him has finally managed to get to his brain and turned his thoughts into some sort of horny, befuddled shit show.

Or maybe, just maybe, he really is just that fucking desperate.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

It's past midnight when he walks through the door. You've been busy all night, but things are finally starting to wind down, the customers that frequent the small establishment slowly trickling out until only a few remain. None of them are your regulars, and given how empty the doorway has been, you're honestly considering calling it a night and going home early. The past few days have been hellish, full of people who didn't do a damn thing to turn you on, and you'd love nothing more than to sink into a warm, cozy bed and drift off to sleep. Tonight, you've been roaming the floor for the past hour without getting anything- everybody is either interested in another one of the workers or entirely fixated on the dancers.

It's not that you don't like your job- you do. Sure, being a stripper isn't the most flattering form of work, but the bills are paid. That's all that really counts these days. Your pride has long since been discarded in favor of earning hefty tips from the sleazy guys who are dumb enough to believe that you'd actually be into them. You put on a good show, of course, but if it weren't for the money? Not a fucking chance.

You like it that way. Hardly any of your clients go beyond the intimacy of a private dance, mainly because you don't let them, reserving that for your favorites. But you haven't met someone who turns you on in a long while, and without the occasional thrill of a real good time from a customer, you're starting to get bored. The days are blurring together, nothing separating the good days from the bad ones, if there even is such a thing anymore.

You're on your way to ask your boss if you can get off early when you hear the bell ring. You groan internally, realizing that you're the only one on the floor who isn't occupied, meaning if this client is interested, they're yours.

Damn it.

So much for an early night.

You're midway through praying to whatever God is out there that this client tips well when you turn and actually lay eyes on them. The moment you do, your mind goes blank, your prayers long forgotten as your thoughts become consumed by him.

He's older- much older. Pushing sixty, at least. It's not inherently a bad thing, but typically the older they are, the more entitled they become.

You're not usually into older men, finding them self-centered, greedy, unable to keep up with your desires; but you're not even ashamed to admit that this stranger could ask you to do just about anything and you'd probably agree in a heartbeat.

The man is tall, big, his muscular form obvious even underneath the suit and tie he wears. His salt and pepper hair is short, accompanied by a scruffy beard you're certain would feel like heaven against your thighs. His tie is loose, his top button undone, and he's got on a pair of dollar-store glasses that he hasn't even pulled the tag off of. There's a weight to him, an exhaustion that seems to have infiltrated the deepest parts of his soul, as if he's seen things you couldn't even begin to fathom- and yet, he's here, seeking some semblance of relief.

Lucky for him, you know exactly how to give it to him.

He looks around like he's lost, the colorful lights and sultry music overwhelming, the center stage where your coworkers get dollar bills thrown at their feet foreign to him. By the time you've made your way over, your legs moving of their own accord, he's turning to leave. "Hey." You call out, and he stops, turning back around to face you.

He's even bigger up close, and his eyes roam over your form almost shamefully before finally meeting your own. "I was just leaving." His voice is rough, a little scratchy, and while you're sure it's supposed to be intimidating, all it does is further fuel the heat pooling between your legs.

"So soon?" You look up at him with a doe-eyed gaze you're well aware makes men weak in the knees.

"I shouldn't be here." He says, but he doesn't walk away from you.

You move a little closer so your breath is fanning across his neck, your voice dripping with suggestion. "I could show you a good time."

"Listen, sweetheart, I've got-"

Sweetheart.

"Let me take care of you." You lean up to whisper in his ear. Your breath is hot against his skin, your mouth tantalizingly close, and you can feel the way he twitches slightly- an exercise of self-control.

A moment passes, two, and he lets out a long breath. "Fuck, darlin'." He reaches out, hesitant to touch, as if he's not sure how this works, doesn’t want to cross some invisible line he hasn’t learned exists. You take his hand, guiding it to your waist, reaching up to put one hand on the back of his neck. "You sure know how to get a guy wrapped around your finger."

In response, you give a coy smile, taking his tie in one hand and giving it a soft tug. He allows you to guide him, pulling him along by the tie you're sure he has a million ideas of what to do with.

You lead him into a private room, pulling the curtain closed behind you, letting his tie slip out of your grasp. His eyes dart around for a moment, but then you're in front of him again, reaching up and sliding his blazer off of his shoulders. You hang it up on the wall, then return, now slowly guiding him backwards and giving him a gentle shove into the leather chair near the wall. He raises an eyebrow as you circle him, leaning in from behind to whisper in his ear. "Just relax." You murmur, letting your lips graze his neck before pulling away. He leans back, eyes following your every move, a stare that feels like it could set you on fire.

You put on a good show for him- dancing, teasing, tantalizingly close, but never touching. Not yet. You can see the hunger in his gaze, the restraint it takes for him not to pull you down into his lap and keep you there. You give him a strip tease, taking off your bra and letting your breasts go free. His eyes roam over you, a murmured word, "Beautiful," leaving his lips, and that makes your already soaked panties drenched.

Then you give him a lap dance- and unlike most of the men you meet, he doesn't touch, doesn't paw at you. Instead he waits, lets you set the pace, doesn't do anything without your permission. Your hands go to his tie, undoing it at a speed you know is killing him, tossing it aside.

Finally, you rest yourself entirely on his lap, and whisper in his ear. "You can touch now, if you want to."

His hands immediately settle on your hips, like they belong there. You grind down against him, feeling him tense beneath you at the friction against his clothed cock. You repeat the motion, relishing in the groan it elicits from him. His grip on your hips tightens slightly, and he begins to guide your motions, pressing you down against his thigh in a way that makes you moan. It's a small, soft sound, but it still makes him smile. “Atta girl, that’s it.” He huffs approvingly. You keep going, feeling yourself almost get lost in the rhythmic movement before you come back to your senses.

Your hands move to the collar of his shirt, slowly beginning to undo the buttons, revealing his toned chest. You only get about halfway down before his hands are gripping your wrists, and your protest dies on your lips when he leans up and kisses you.

He tastes like cigar smoke and whiskey, a blend that should be uncomfortable but is somehow pleasant. His tongue slips into your mouth, tangling with yours as he pulls you closer. By the time he finally pulls away for air, you're dizzy, flushed.

A kiss- almost as personal as a name.

You've never met a man who could make you feel like this- and certainly not without getting all your clothes off first.

His words snap you out of your breathless haze. "Let me touch you, baby." His voice is both a plea and a demand, and who are you to deny him such a request?

A simple nod is all it takes before his hands are on you, roving over your breasts with an appreciative groan. You can't help the way your hips rock against him, and one of his hands goes down to your ass, encouraging you to grind against him again. His other hand rolls your nipple between his thumb and index finger, while his mouth leaves sloppy kisses along your neck, down to your breasts.

You bury your face in his neck, breathing him in. His head comes up from your chest to whisper in your ear as he keeps your hips moving back and forth, his other hand alternating between your breasts. His skin muffles your moans, but you know he won't let you hide those pretty sounds from him forever. "You're so perfect." His words don't exactly do you any favors in the 'keeping your composure' department. "Sweet, pretty thing like you..." He nips at your earlobe, making you gasp softly. "You got no idea what you do to me."

Those words snap you back a little, remind you of your promise to take care of him. You raise your head up, leaning back a little to meet his eyes. "Then show me." Your hands reach down towards his belt, and this time, he doesn't stop you. Instead, his gaze roams over you as you unbuckle it, slowly pull it out of the loops of his pants, toss it aside, letting it join the other discarded articles littering the floor. You undo the buttons, then pull his pants down.

Even through his boxers, you can clearly see the outline of his aching hardness. You gently take him in your palm, running your hand along him through the fabric, watching the way his eyes flutter. Then you adjust yourself so you're grinding on him again, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating the two of you.

You go on like that for a little while, keeping track of every little sound he makes, every hitch of his breath and shudder that goes through his body. Then you lean back, pulling his boxers down, freeing his cock from the confines of his clothing.

Immediately, your mouth waters. He's huge, the biggest you've ever seen, and you find yourself wondering if you even can take him.

You push that thought aside for now, swiping your thumb across his tip, smiling to yourself at the groan that leaves him. You repeat the motion, letting precum gather on your fingers as you begin to move your hand up and down, up and down. You start slow, stroking him gently, then gradually increase your pace. Midway through, you grab a condom with your other hand, keeping eye contact as you open the wrapper with your teeth. You roll it onto him in one smooth motion, earning a startled grunt. His head falls back, his breaths coming unevenly, and it takes him a while before he can manage a coherent sentence.

"Fuck, you treat every guy like this?" Even with all the energy he can muster, the words are still a little short.

Your smile widens, and you lean in to press a kiss against the vein of his throat. "Only the good ones."

His mouth opens, as if to argue with the notion that he's anything good, but your ever-faster movements silence any protests that could have come from him.

You can tell he's getting close, and you slow down, letting him breathe a little slower as you whisper a soft question. "Where do you want me? You want my mouth, you want-"

Your words are cut off by his hand cupping your clothed mound, a gasp escaping you. "I want this." His voice is rough, and this time, it's not a plea. He leans in, his breath hot against your ear as you unconsciously begin to move against his hand, chasing any friction he can give you. "I think it's a little unfair, seeing how I'm all out in the open and you've still got these," His thumb hooks in the waistband of your panties. "Separating me from you, hmm?

You don't even answer, just raise your hips up slightly so he can tug your lingerie down your legs until it falls and hits the floor. Immediately, his gaze lands on your exposed cunt. "Jesus, you're soaked." He murmurs, running his fingers through your slick. You whine as he brushes against your clit, and he chuckles. "Need me that bad, huh?"

"Need you." You whine. You can tell he wants to take it slow, to tease you, and by god do you want to let him- but you're impatient, your own teasing having riled you up too much to do anything but fuck him. Luckily, he picks up on your silent request, raising your hips to hover above his cock. His gaze searches yours, waiting for permission, and you nod. "Fuck me." You say softly, and it takes everything in him not to come completely fucking undone at that sweet tone of voice.

Slowly, painfully slowly, he lowers you down onto him. It burns, in a delicious way you've come to love in your years here. Even with the sheer amount of wetness coming from you, it's still a struggle to make him fit- but he does. When you've finally sank all the way down onto his cock, he lets you breathe for a moment. "You can take it, baby." He murmurs reassuringly- a support and a chance for you to back out. You close your eyes, breathing in and out, resting your face in the crook of his neck again.

Then you start to move.

It takes him by surprise, and you like the grunt that comes from him. For someone of his age, you're sure not much can catch him off guard anymore, so that makes it all the better when you lean back to see the look on his face. He catches your small smirk and returns it with one of his own, letting you move yourself up and down, over and over. Your pace slowly increases as the two of you adjust, and the room is soon filled with soft noises and the sound of flesh against flesh.

It's slow, almost sensual, but despite the circumstances that should have you turning this in another direction, you like it. You feel that familiar coil building in your stomach, your soft whimpers turning to moans now.

"You gonna come for me, baby?"

All you can do is nod, and he rocks his hips up into yours. The way he fills you up is mind-numbing, until you can't think of anything else but him and how fucking good he's making you feel, how badly you need to come undone on his cock.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck-" Your voice takes on a sharp pitch as he thrusts up into you, and your vision goes white for a moment as your orgasm hits you, unending bliss shaking your whole body. He rides out your orgasm for as long as he can, but the tight feeling of your cunt clenching around him soon sends him over the edge too. You can feel him twitching inside you, only prolonging the aftershocks of your own pleasure.

Eventually, you both come down. You're breathing heavily, trying to scramble together any semblance of thought. He stands suddenly, picking you up like you weigh nothing and setting you down on the chair. His cock slips out of you at some point during the process, leaving you feeling empty. You sit there for a moment before opening your eyes, finding him pulling his pants up and buckling his belt. He meets your gaze with a hint of a fond smile, bending over to grab his tie.

You stand up to retrieve your own clothes, pulling them back on while he shoves his arms through the sleeves of his blazer and rifles through his pockets, eventually pulling out his wallet. "Um, how much do I owe you?"

He looks almost embarrassed, and you find it kind of adorable. You flash him a smile, saying words you never thought you'd dare to let pass your lips. "Nothing. It's on me."

Immediately, his eyebrow shoots up. "No, I can't... I can't let you do that, pretty girl."

You shake your head. "I insist. Nobody's ever fucked me like that, and certainly not any of my clients." You see the way your words boost his ego- good. He deserves it. "Besides, if you hadn't showed up, I'd have gone home anyway." You say nonchalantly, taking a few steps over to him. You reach up and put a finger to his lips before he can continue to argue. "It's on the house."

Although he still looks conflicted, he reluctantly nods. "Okay. Next time, then."

Next time.

You feel a thrill run through your body as he brings up the prospect of a next time, and your smile widens. "Next time." You affirm. You step back, letting him be on his way.

He moves towards the curtain, pausing before he goes. "See you around, sweetheart."

And just like that, he's gone.

But you don't miss him- because you know he'll be back.

So when you finally make it home and climb into bed after that warm shower, there's still a fond smile on your face as you drift off to sleep, dreaming of the weary stranger and his wonderful words.

[pucksandpower]

Suck Him Dry

Day 3 → Oral Fixation 💋 Charles Leclerc

Warnings: 18+ content

Kinktober Masterlist

The room is dark, the kind of deep, enveloping darkness that sinks into your bones. The only light comes from a sliver of moonlight peeking through the heavy curtains, casting shadows that dance lazily across the ceiling. Charles is breathing softly beside you, his chest rising and falling with a steady rhythm that, on any other night, might lull you back to sleep.

But tonight is different. Your mind is restless, thoughts spinning in circles, too fast and too loud to let you sleep.

You stare up at the ceiling, your eyes tracing the shadows. You don’t know how long you’ve been awake — minutes, maybe hours. Time loses meaning when you're stuck inside your own head.

You feel like you’re trapped in a loop, a constant replay of every worry, every doubt, every little thing that could possibly go wrong. It’s exhausting, but there’s no way out. Not tonight, at least.

Beside you, Charles stirs. You freeze, holding your breath, hoping you haven't woken him up. But then you feel his hand slide over, warm and reassuring, finding yours in the darkness. He squeezes your hand gently, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

“Can’t sleep?” His voice is soft, rough with sleep, but there’s a thread of concern woven through it.

You shake your head, even though you know he can’t see you. “No,” you whisper. “I’m just … stuck in my head again.”

Charles hums, a low sound that vibrates through the silence. He turns onto his side, propping himself up on one elbow to look at you. Even in the dark, you can feel the weight of his gaze, steady and unwavering.

“What’s going on in there?” He asks gently, tapping your temple with his finger.

You sigh, closing your eyes. “Everything. Nothing. I don’t know.”

“Hmm.” He’s quiet for a moment, just watching you. Then he shifts closer, his hand moving to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion. “You need something to get you out of your head,” he says quietly.

You don’t respond. It’s not like you haven’t tried everything already — reading, counting sheep, focusing on your breathing. Nothing works.

Charles seems to understand. He leans in, his breath warm against your ear. “I have an idea,” he murmurs. “But you have to trust me.”

You open your eyes, turning your head to look at him. There’s a glimmer of something in his eyes, something tender and a little mischievous. You nod slowly. “Okay. I trust you.”

A slow smile spreads across his face. “Good.” He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Come here,” he says, tugging you gently toward him.

You follow his lead, letting him guide you until your head is resting against his thigh. He strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing. “Just relax,” he murmurs. “I’ve got you.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. Charles shifts, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, guiding you further down. You feel the warmth of him against your cheek, the soft fabric of his boxers brushing against your skin.

“Open your mouth,” he says softly.

You do as he says, parting your lips. He guides you with gentle pressure, and you take him into your mouth, the familiar taste and feel of him grounding you in a way that nothing else does. You close your eyes, letting out a slow breath through your nose as you begin to suck gently.

Charles lets out a low groan, his hand tightening in your hair. “That’s it, just like that,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so well, mon amour.”

You focus on the sound of his voice, the gentle praise in his tone, and the steady rise and fall of his chest. You feel yourself start to relax, the tension in your body slowly melting away. The constant buzzing in your head quiets, replaced by the rhythmic motion of your mouth and the soft, reassuring sounds Charles makes above you.

He strokes your hair, his thumb brushing over your temple in a slow, soothing rhythm. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers. “So perfect. Just keep going, mon cœur.”

You hum softly around him, the vibration drawing a soft curse from his lips. He tugs lightly on your hair, guiding you a little deeper. You take him easily, your jaw relaxing as you find a steady rhythm, each motion smooth and deliberate.

Charles lets out a shaky breath, his hand tightening in your hair again. “God, you feel so good,” he murmurs. “So fucking good. You’re amazing, you know that?”

You don’t respond, but you don’t need to. He knows. He always knows. You focus on the feel of him in your mouth, the steady pressure against your tongue, the way he throbs gently with each pass of your lips. It’s comforting, in a way that’s hard to explain. It’s like everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you in this quiet, intimate moment.

He shifts slightly, his thigh muscles flexing under your cheek. “Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Do you need to stop?”

You shake your head slightly, your mouth still full. You don’t want to stop. Not yet. You need this — the steady, grounding presence of him, the way he makes everything else disappear.

He chuckles softly, his fingers threading through your hair again. “Okay,” he says quietly. “We’ll keep going as long as you need, mon ange.”

You don’t know how long you stay like that — minutes, maybe hours. Time loses meaning when you’re with him like this, when the only thing that matters is the steady rhythm of your mouth and the quiet sounds of his pleasure. You start to feel yourself getting drowsy, the tension in your body melting away completely.

Charles seems to notice. He strokes your hair gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “You’re getting tired, aren’t you?” He murmurs.

You hum softly in response, your eyes fluttering closed. He chuckles again, a soft, affectionate sound. “That’s okay,” he says quietly. “Just let yourself fall asleep, mon cœur. I’ve got you.”

You do as he says, letting your eyes close fully. You keep sucking softly, the motion slowing as you start to drift off. Charles hums a soft, soothing tune under his breath, his fingers still moving gently through your hair. You feel yourself slipping into sleep, the last thing you hear is the soft, steady sound of his breathing.

As you fall asleep, still sucking, you feel a sense of peace wash over you. For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is quiet, your body relaxed. And you know, without a doubt, that as long as Charles is here, you’ll always have a way out of your own head.

***

You wake slowly, consciousness returning like a gentle tide washing over you. The world is soft and quiet, the room bathed in the faint blue light of early morning. For a moment, you’re disoriented, unsure of where you are or why you feel so warm and cocooned. Then you realize your mouth is still full, lips stretched around the familiar weight of Charles.

Your head is still resting on his thigh, and you can feel the solid muscle beneath your cheek. The sheets are warm and heavy around you, cocooning you in the lingering scent of Charles — clean and musky, with a hint of something uniquely him that you’ve come to love. His hand is still tangled in your hair, his fingers relaxed but still holding onto you, as if even in sleep, he doesn’t want to let you go.

Blinking your eyes open, you adjust to the dim light. Charles is still asleep, his chest rising and falling with each deep, even breath. You can feel his thigh move slightly under your cheek with each inhale, the slow rhythm of his breathing a comforting reminder that he’s here, right here with you. You don’t want to wake him, but you can’t help the way your tongue instinctively moves, brushing against the sensitive underside of him.

He stirs, letting out a soft sigh in his sleep, his grip on your hair tightening for just a moment before relaxing again. The sound sends a rush of heat through you, pooling low in your belly. You can feel him harden in your mouth, his body responding even in sleep. It’s intoxicating, the way you can affect him like this, the way he trusts you so completely, even when he’s not awake.

You shift slightly, adjusting your position under the sheets. Your lips tighten around him, your tongue pressing more firmly against the sensitive spot that makes him shiver. His breathing hitches, a soft groan escaping his lips. He’s still asleep, but his body knows you, recognizes your touch and responds to it.

Encouraged, you start to move more deliberately, sucking gently, your head bobbing in a slow, steady rhythm. The taste of him floods your mouth, salty and intoxicating, and you can’t help the way your body reacts. Heat blooms between your thighs, a low, insistent ache that makes you press your legs together, trying to find some relief.

But you don’t stop, don’t even slow down. If anything, you speed up, eager to taste more of him, to coax him awake with your mouth.

Charles groans again, louder this time, his hand tightening in your hair. “Merde,” he mutters, his voice rough with sleep. You feel him stir, his body shifting slightly as he wakes. “What …” His voice trails off into a low moan as you take him deeper, your lips stretching around him as you suck harder.

“Fuck, mon amour …” His voice is thick with sleep and something else — something deeper, more primal. You can hear the way his breathing changes, growing faster, more uneven. He’s fully awake now, and you can feel his body tense under yours, his muscles tightening as he tries to hold back.

You don’t let him. You move faster, sucking harder, your tongue working against him with a practiced ease that you know drives him crazy. He groans, his hips jerking up involuntarily, pushing himself deeper into your mouth. “God, you’re … you’re perfect,” he mutters, his voice barely more than a breathless whisper. “Don’t stop, please don’t stop …”

You hum around him, the sound vibrating through your throat and sending a shiver down his spine. His reaction spurs you on, and you take him deeper, your throat relaxing to accommodate him. He curses softly in French, his fingers tightening in your hair, guiding you with a gentle but insistent pressure.

“Just like that,” he breathes. “Mon dieu, just like that. You’re doing so good, so fucking good …”

You moan softly around him, the sound muffled by his length filling your mouth. The taste of him, the heat of his skin against your lips, the way he reacts to your every touch — it’s intoxicating, overwhelming. You feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your thighs intensifying with every passing second.

Charles lets out a low groan, his hips bucking up slightly as he nears his release. “I’m close,” he warns, his voice strained. “Fuck, I’m so close …”

You don’t stop, don’t slow down. You want this — you want to taste him, to feel him lose control in your mouth. You suck harder, your tongue swirling around him with a renewed fervor. He lets out a strangled moan, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully as he finally lets go.

He comes with a shuddering groan, his hips jerking up as he spills into your mouth. The taste of him floods your senses, warm and slightly salty, and you swallow eagerly, not wanting to waste a single drop. He groans again, softer this time, his body trembling with the force of his release.

But you don’t stop. Even as he starts to soften in your mouth, you keep going, your lips and tongue working with a steady, unrelenting rhythm. He lets out a surprised gasp, his hand tightening in your hair again.

“Mon amour, what are you …” His voice trails off into a moan as you suck harder, your tongue flicking against the sensitive underside of him. “Fuck, I-I can’t …”

You don’t listen. You don’t want to. You want to taste every last drop of him, to drain him of everything he has to offer. You feel a surge of satisfaction as he starts to harden again, his body responding to your insistent touch.

“Jesus, you’re insatiable,” he mutters, his voice thick with a mix of awe and arousal. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”

You hum around him, your lips curving into a small, satisfied smile. You can feel him starting to tremble beneath you, his body on the edge of overstimulation. But you don’t stop. You can’t. You want more — need more.

Charles groans, his hips twitching as he tries to pull away. “I … I can’t, it’s too much …”

But you don’t let him. You wrap your arms around his hips, holding him in place as you suck harder, your tongue pressing against the sensitive spot that you know will drive him crazy. He lets out a choked moan, his body tensing under yours as he teeters on the edge of another release.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck …” He’s barely coherent now, his words slurred with pleasure and overstimulation. “Please, I … I can’t. I’m gonna …”

He comes again, harder this time, his body convulsing with the force of his release. You swallow every drop, your lips never leaving him, even as he starts to soften once more. He’s trembling now, his body twitching with aftershocks, but you don’t let up.

Charles gasps, his hand weakly pushing at your shoulder. “Mon amour, please … I can’t — it’s too much …”

But you don’t stop. You suck harder, your tongue working against him with a desperate, insistent rhythm. You’re close now, so close, the taste of him pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You can feel the tension building in your core, a tight coil that’s ready to snap.

He groans, his voice hoarse with pleasure and exhaustion. “Please, I … I need you to stop, I can’t take it …”

But you’re too far gone to listen. You’re on the edge, teetering on the brink of release, and you can’t stop, not now. You suck harder, your tongue pressing against him in a way that makes him shudder.

And then you’re there, the tension finally snapping as your orgasm crashes over you in a wave of pleasure. You moan around him, your body shaking with the force of it, your mouth never leaving him. You keep sucking, keep licking, riding out your orgasm as you drain him of everything he has to offer.

Charles gasps, his body going limp beneath you as he finally gives in, his head falling back against the pillow. “Merde …” he mutters, his voice barely more than a breathless whisper. “You’re … you’re incredible …”

You hum softly in response, your body still trembling with aftershocks. You finally pull away, your lips releasing him with a soft pop. You rest your head against his thigh, your eyes closed as you try to catch your breath.

He strokes your hair gently, his touch soothing. “Are you okay?” He asks softly. “Did I … did I hurt you?”

You shake your head, a small, contented smile spreading across your lips. “No,” you whisper. “I’m perfect.”

He chuckles softly, his fingers still moving through your hair. “That you are, mon ange. That you are.”

You let out a soft sigh, your body relaxing completely against him. You feel a deep sense of satisfaction, a contentment that you haven’t felt in a long time. For the first time in what feels like forever, your mind is quiet, your body at peace.

Charles hums softly, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “I love you,” he murmurs. “So much.”

You smile, your eyes still closed. “I love you too,” you whisper. “More than anything.”

He chuckles again, a soft, affectionate sound. “Good,” he says quietly. “Because I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

[gojosprettyprincess]

SATORU SHARING YOU WITH HIS BEST FRIEND

"Such a nasty fucking slut aren't you baby? Enjoying my best friend eating my load out of this greedy cunt while I watch, what a dirty girl" his infamous smirk plastered on his features, looking down at your fuck out expression on his lap as Suguru's slurps on your dripping cunt while he's on his knees, two fingers stuffing your hole while he's lapping your wet folds. It was absolutely filthy, Gojo decided to let Suguru witness him fuck you silly so he can visually see how to properly fuck a girl since he recently got in a newly established relationship and well, he doesn't have that much experience on how to pleasure his girlfriend but honestly, there was no fucking way you could even tell anyways cause God he sure knew how to work his tongue.

Geto pulls away with a grin while he drills his fingers in and out of you, "Damn you weren't wrong Satoru, her cunt is so fucking good, so sweet and tasty" he smirks looking up at his best friend while dragging his tongue over his lips to lick up your juices. You cunt clenching around his fingers due to the lewd praise from your boyfriend’s beat friend.

"See I fucking told you sugu", Gojo gives him a cocky grin while bringing his thumb down to rub sloppy circles on your puffy clit while Geto continues fingerfucking you, he watches how your legs start shaking as your moans gets louder and louder.

"She's also so fucking sensitive, aren't you princess?", he obviously knew there was no way your gonna respond or say anything, it was just too much, earlier Gojo fucked you so fucking hard and good it didn't even feel like reality anymore, then not long after he stuffed your cunt full with his cream, Gojo made a brave suggestion that Geto should clean it up as a joke well look what that resulted to, tears stepping out of your eyes, it was so much, Geto was eating your cunt like a homeless man that just gotten his favorite meal that he haven't ate in a long time, ravishing and exploring your wet pussy with his tongue, hell he was even kissing and making out with it and you couldn't do anything about it because of the strong grip Satoru has on your thighs to keep you firmed, you’re on the verge of cumming, but the thing is, this time it felt so weird and different.

"Ohmygodohmygod fuckk!" you cried out as if you were panicking, "what is it pretty girl, are you gonna cum or does it feel that good?" Suguru asked, eyes fixated on your lewd expressions as he increased his pace, curling and scissoring his fingers against your tight velvet walls. God, he knew exactly what he was doing.

He looked up to Gojo and it was like they can read each other's minds or something, Gojo started thumbing your clit faster, the loud squeak of your wet cunny along with your uncontrollable moans filling the room as they continued overstimulating you. Suguru brings his hand up to pinch your nipples while Gojo goes closer to you to suck on the other.

"Uughh fuckkk" you hiccupped as your eyes roll back, body arch against Gojo's chest, a cold shiver hits your spine as you felt something wet circling your puckered hole, Suguru's tongue swirling around your tight sensitive hole while it winks and flutters against the pad of his tongue, fuck you never felt so intense before, it was just crazy.

"I'm cumming! Im cumminggg!" you screamed, eyes rolling back as you felt some type of liquid gushing out of you, spraying onto Geto's face and all over his hair but that obviously he didn't stop him one bit, matter a fact it motivated him, both of them smiling at each other as Suguru pounds his fingers into you at an impossible pace, your clit practically numb from Gojo playing with it. After they were both satisfied with ruining you, Suguru sucked up your juices and cleaned your dirty cunt with his tongue.

"Didn't think the first time you'd squirt would be with me and my best friend?, What a little dirty slut you are, sweetheart" Gojo whispers in your ears before planting a kiss on your forehead.

"So, ya think you know how to please a woman now?" your boyfriend questions Suguru, looking at him with a sly smirk.

"I don't know man I thinkkk I need more visuals and experiments if that's alright with you" Suguru grins teasingly at his friend, hoping he understands what he meant.

"Of course bro, that's fine by me, thats what best friends are for". Gojo winks at him playfully.

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Gojo Satoru, Nanami Kento, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : were back again at daily posting 🙏🏻 to my pookies who supported me, y'all made me giggle and kickin' my feet in my bed last night 👉🏻👈🏻 love lots!

GOJO SATORU, as your husband !

• Gojo being your husband is no different from being your boyfriend — he still gotta be that same person you dated few years ago, though he became more serious about situations and decisions because you guys are married but his goofy, annoying, clingy side is still there — I mean when he met you and been with you for like two weeks your caller name is already set as 'wifey'.

Gojo who totally acts like a mom when you leave for work, he is like a freaking HOUSEWIFE —

"honey!" he sings as he walks into the living room seeing you brush your hair Infront of the mirror, getting ready for work. "hmm?" you responded and quickly turns your head at him — he's wearing a this is what an awesome husband looks like apron which made you too stunned to speak, "I created a bento for you." he smiles as he hands out a nicely wrapped bento box which was really new to you because it's always you who keep creating bentos for him, usually when he leaves for a mission.

"thank you, honey." you say softly with a warm smile as you accept his bento that he specially created for you, he can't help but to feel like a love sick teenager seeing you smile like that. He officially takes the position of being a housewife 🫡

Gojo who couldn't stop talking about the future he wants with you like nonstop — this man would talk about having three million carbon copy of him with you and would name them after megumi, yuji, nanami and basically all of his friends, students, and dead relatives 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 — I FEEL LIKE HE GOTTA BE THAT TYPE OF PERSON.

Gojo always flexes you everyday and YOU are his hyper fixation — argue with the wall, he gotta be the type of man to say "she's my wife." randomly when he's talking to an old friend he haven't seen for a long time. HE WILL BE THE HUSBAND WHO YOU WILL SEE WEARING "I LOVE MY WIFE" TYPE OF SHIRT WITH THE UGLIEST FONT AND PHOTO TEMPLATE EVER. Once a person mentions your name he ain't gonna shut the fuck up.

I just know this marriage go'n be like Ryan Reynolds and Blake Lively's relationship 🙏🏻 ABSOLUTELY RANDOM TEXTS FROM HIM, UPDATING YOU TOO MUCH.

2:32 pm

gojo : shitting at the mall cuz i don't have anywhere to shit on.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : i miss you my wife, my beautiful wife.

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : [sent an attachment]

gojo : your very handsome husband ❤️

2:40 pm

you : stop spamming me messages love, im at work 🙏🏻

gojo : why? is it turning you on 😏

you : that's a photo of your feet.

Gojo who became a seriously hands on person when you told him that you're pregnant — when he has missions with yuji, megumi, or maybe nobara and you told him that you're very tired to do anything today he will be like,"okay kids, I got to go I have important things to do." and dashed away before they could say something and mf arrived at yalls house within a second.

Gojo who cried when he carry his baby for the first time, he was sobbing like hell — girl dad? boy dad? BRO HE IS BOTH ‼️ "okay we'll name this one suguru and this one-" he is going to come up with the most ridiculous names, probably the worst one was his dead ancestor.

okay seriously, Gojo would be a full time dad after his children were born — he will always stay at home as much as he can, having twins isn't easy plus he's trying to help you with his full power and make sure you don't feel alone through this.

"gojo.." you grumble as you felt his presence disappearing next to you at bed, you open your eyes and sees he wasn't there which led you to stand up and start looking for him — you walk out of the bedroom and noticed that the twin's bedroom door was open so you check it out.

in your suprise, gojo was in the rocking chair with the twin's in his arms peacefully sleeping and he is snoring like hell. You can't help but smile seeing this moment, it warms you heart. You quickly grabbed your phone and took a quick photo, this is what you exactly wished for.

Gojo who couldn't stop posting you and his little angels and his fans are absolutely living for it, it's like his day wouldn't complete without posting cute photos of his angels and of course, you as well. Gojo is indeed a Facebook mom —

; gojosatoru

tagged : @y/n.instagram | fam time 🤍 !

liked by megumi.22 and 8,957 others

itaaa.yuji | I volunteer as a tribute to babysit them 🫡

nobaraaa | CUTIES.

shokoleiri.7 | adorbs

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[heavysighing-dreamyeyes]

hii, I‘ve already made two requests and you‘ve written them so so beautifully <33 Your work is really amazing and I think I would consider you one of my favorite blogs💞💞 I do have one more idea :)

Reader and Jason are in a relationship, yet they don’t know about his vigilante identity. Reader works the night shift as a barista.

One night, the café gets robbed during reader’s shift, but Jason isn’t there to take care of the robber since he went on patrol only later, meaning the GCPD is the first on the scene.

When Red Hood passes the café and see’s all the police lights, his heart drops. He comes to check up on reader, but they’re so shaken up that jason scares them.

It’s all fluffy in the end, and perhaps Red Hood reveals his identity 😚

Promises

Hi, nonnie! Thank you! ~1.8k words

There was a gun to your face about ten minutes ago. Well, it might have been ten minutes ago, you're not exactly sure how long it was now. The idea of time seemed to phase out when two masked robbers stormed into the little Café you worked at.

Who even robs a coffee shop? You had maybe thirty dollars in the till, everyone uses cards or just taps their phones anyway. That point didn't seem to get across to the men as they waved their pistols in your face and shot off rounds into the air.

You showed them the safe, and a few hundred dollars seemed to calm them down. They took the money, took your wallet and phone. But none of that stopped them from shoving you to the ground as they ran off. You just sat there– dazed, scared, and overwhelmed– until a patrol car from the GCPD and an ambulance rushed to park outside.

No one was hurt, maybe some bruises from being pushed around, but you and the two unfortunate people who wanted coffee half past midnight were more than a little shaken up.

You stumble through the questions the cops ask you and let the paramedics guide you to sit on the back of the ambulance. They drape a shock blanket over your shoulders as you murmur about needing to call your boyfriend.

Someone presses a hot drink into your hands, and you barely register the quiet conversations over this being the fourth small business to get robbed this week. Your eyes only leave the spot in the distance you're fixated on when gasps resonate throughout the air. Your gaze shifts up, and your breath leaves your lungs. Red Hood. Red Hood is stalking towards you like lives depend on it, avoiding the medics and cops that try to talk to him, to get his attention.

You're proud of the fact that you don't flinch when his gloved hand meets your face, carefully tilting your chin up to observe your face. His body is rigid, you can tell something's wrong even through the muddled, shocked state of your mind.

He's crowding over you, a barrier between you and the rest of Gotham. You know he's a vigilante, you know that he helps. But the moment frays the last of your nerves and tears fill your eyes.

You just want to go home. You just want to feel safe. You want your phone back and you want to call your boyfriend and have him make everything okay again.

Red Hod freezes and you can audibly hear his breath hitching. His fingers twitch against your skin before dropping, but he doesn't step away, "Sorry. I'm sorry�� Did I– are you hurt?"

That only makes you want to cry harder. He's apologizing to you. This stranger hasn't done anything, but check if you're okay, and you're crying all because he looks big and a little scary. You shake your head, trying to find the words to apologize back, that you don't know why you're crying.

You shift back, even if there's no room to go anywhere. Your heart is pounding and you're scared even if you shouldn't be because there was a gun to your face and you could have died and the man that smells like gunpowder and leather can't fix that.

His head doesn't move, you know his eyes haven't left your face. You don't know why. He doesn't gain anything from lifting his hand to catch the tear that spills down your face. "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, steady and full of promise, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He says your name, says it softly and gently and damn near yearning.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer shakily, blinking back the rest of your tears and trying to figure out why a vigilante knows your name.

His head turns, presumably looking for your phone, "Is it still inside the Café?"

You shake your head, voice heavy with emotion, "It– they stole it."

"They?" He questions, mask tilting back towards you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly, Isn't that why he's here? To get information? To catch them?

His hand finally leaves your face, and you exhale softly in relief, "I'll take care of it."

He wavers in front of you. Another thing that doesn't make sense. You don't get another word out before he's disappeared into the shadows.

Your shoulders slump. You're so tired and so, so drained, and not even the hot drink in your hands is making you feel more in your body.

Someone calls your name. Jason. You stand up on shaky legs, nearly spilling the cup in an attempt to put it down quickly. Jason's here. You don't care why or how, but he's here. He has you wrapped up against his chest and face buried in your hair before the cops can even try to stop him.

He says your name over and over into your hair, and you try to ignore the way your tears stain his shirt. "I've got you, you're okay. You're okay, baby. Promise. I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you," he murmurs, arms tightening around you.

He feels safe. He smells like– he smells like leather and gunpowder. He's big and warm and a barrier between you and the rest of the world. And it all clicks.

"Let's get you home," he says softly, gently, so careful with a voice full of yearning and love. You recognize it. And you know.

Jason knows your shift ends in forty-seven minutes. But patrol has been slow tonight, and he's going to walk you home even if it wasn't. So why not show up a little early and keep you company? Spoiler seemed eager enough to cover his territory for a few hours, anyway.

He'll go back out after he sees you home safe and watches you fall asleep. Jason's idly trying to decide if you're going to be too tired to shower with him, when the flashing lights outside the Café catch his attention.

He thinks his heart might have stopped. He doesn't even think to call Oracle or text you, he just knows his feet hit the pavement and he's running.

There's only one ambulance, only one cop car. His eyes dart. Where are you. Where are you?

He's barreling towards you as soon as he finds you. He doesn't have a plan. Doesn't need one until he knows you're safe. "Move," he snaps at the medic that tries to stop him, never stopping his path towards you.

His hand is tilting your head up before he even considers the possibility that it's a bad idea, that he's just a stranger in a mask armed to the teeth with knives and guns.

He can't help himself. He needs to touch you, needs to ground himself and make sure you're not hurt. He doesn't manage to get his words out before you're tearing up.

Jason's heart breaks at the sight, bile rising in his throat. He removes his hand, even if every instinct he has goes against it. He thinks he chokes out an apology, but he's too busy looking at every inch of you for injuries.

You shake your head and a piece of his soul shatters. He reaches up to wipe your tears, as if he could do anything else, "You're okay. You're safe," he murmurs, and wills it to be true, "tell me what you need. Let me make it better." He wants it to be better. He wants your tears to stop and the tension to leave your body and the anxiety to disappear from your eyes.

"I need– I want my phone. I want to call you boyfriend," You answer, and he wants to drop to his knees when your voice shakes.

Your phone. He can do that. His eyes dart from you, looking for the familiar phone case, "Is it still inside the Café?"

"It– they stole it," You answer and his focus snaps back to you.

"They?" He questions, doing his best to keep the anger from dripping into his voice, to bite back the threats on his tongue for whoever scared you.

"The robbers?" You answer weakly. Robbers. Robbers. Robbers did this. He files that away for once you're home, once he knows you feel safe.

He pulls his hand from your face reluctantly, "I'll take care of it." Jason doesn't want to step away from you. All he really wants is to wrap you up against him and promise everything will be better. But you don't need Red Hood. You need Jason Todd.

He forces himself away from you, moves faster than he should, struggling to shed his armor and mask. He drops his guns to the roof, anything recognizable left in a pile for someone else to deal with.

He's back on the ground and rushing back to you. He says your name. You look up at him and he sees the relief flood your face.

Jason catches you when you step towards him, arms wrapping around you to keep you close.

He whispers promises against your skin, tightening his grip on you. He can feel you crying. It makes concern and anger and the overwhelming desire to protect you twists in his stomach, "Let's get you home."

Jason– Red Hood– talks to the police for you. Insists that there's no more questions for you to answer as he hooks his arm firmly around your waist. He guides you home. You barely process a word he says.

All you can really focus on, as you watch him unlock the apartment door, is that he's Red Hood. How did you miss it? Why didn't you know?

You feel disoriented. But Jason's perfect, exactly what you need in the moment. He doesn't ask you questions, doesn't press or make you move too fast as he helps you change. He nods and gets you water when you say you don't want to shower, that you're not hungry.

He lets you curl against his chest and he kisses the crown of your head when you finally crawl into bed, "I was scared," You admit quietly into his skin.

"They'll never scare you again," he promises. Your stomach swoops. It's the truth. You know it's fact. They'll never scare you again. They'll never scare anyone again. He'll make sure of it.

You fall asleep to his comforting whispers and vows, the feel of his fingers tracing your skin. When you wake up, he's still next to you, still holding you flush against him. Your wallet and phone sit on the nightstand next to your bed. Neither of you mention it as the sun begins to shine on the familiar leather jacket folded over your chair. Neither of you mention it, later, when the news reports that two bodies were found in Gotham Harbor.

[heartfullofleeches]

[Angst]

Childhood Best Friends with a small age gap- two or three years, nothing crazy- but it means everything as they age.

It was hard for them to make friends their age when you first met. They liked things that were too "childish" for their peers - things another child who lived not to far away adored. They'd seen each other on the way to school, but they didn't interact frequently due to their difference in grade.

Until that day-

"Whoa...Cool backpack. You like that show too?"

"Thanks... I'm thinking of getting a new one though... Do you want me to ask my parents if you can have it?"

"What?! It looks fine to me... Why are you getting rid of it?"

"My friends called me a baby... I won't be able to go back to class without everyone laughing at me unless I get a better one."

"That's silly!.... It's on right now... Wanna watch it with me?"

The two were inseparable from then on- School hindered the time they had to see each other each morning, but as soon as it let out - both ran to meet with their new best friend. The elder of the pair was often mocked and teased for their choice, but they could hardly care anymore. They had someone who'd stick by their side to the very end - childish fixations and all.

Years went on and they made new friends. It happens. More obstacles began piling up throughout - chipping away at the few hours they scarcely had to begin with. Studying, Hobbies, balancing days between hanging out with other friend groups and the person who once meant the world. They tried to make things works, but nothing went to plan-

"Is it alright if Y/n comes with us tonight?"

"Y/N? Aren't they're too young to see this movie? We shouldn't be responsible if they have night terrors or something.."

"They aren't that young... Are they?"

They never thought about it before. You were so close in age as kids it never hit them that as you grew that little gap drew a bridge between you - and it was easier to let you go than finding an alternative.

"Hey, Dude! Are we still on for this weekend? I can't believe they're making a reboot after all this time!.."

"Are my messages going through? You haven't responded in a while... I saw you outside school yesterday and yelled your name, but....."

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Hey."

"You're hanging out with them today? Did you forget about my birthday?...."

"You removed me off your list of friends...We're still friends, right?"

"Let me alone. I'm sick of being your babysitter. Go find friends your own age and stay away from mine."

And that was the end of things.

College cames around and their live became relatively tame. Their thoughts drifted to that childhood friend of theirs every now and again, but between school and partying with the new friends they had made - those memories faded to the back of their mind.

An acquaintance asks them to help show some new faces around the campus. One sticks out to them amongst the crowd. It's you. What do they say to you after all these years? You don't look sad to see them. Nor angry. Intact - you look..

Relieved.

Pulling them aside at the end of the tour, you free yourself from the burden that's weighted down on you since they left you.

"I'm sorry."

"It was never my intention to hold you back. Overtime I realized I was just that annoying kid who clung onto you because I thought you were my first and only friend...When you never felt that way about me. I'm sorry for taking that away from you. If our paths cross again, I promise I won't even look at you."

After being abandoned by your best friend- the person you looked up to most, you matured well beyond your years in hopes that would make you like them again. Overtime, you gave up that goal, but others could see how you've changed.

"Isn't that.... Y/n?.."

"Oh, man- It is! You guys were glued at the hip before we became teens."

"They're..kinda cute... Do you still have their number?"

All this time apart, a feeling long forgotten resurged inside them. The need to protect you. You didn't know these people like they did. You shouldn't be going to parties with them, getting to know and befriend them. They'll only hurt you - worse than they had. They never should have said goodbye to you- They should have allowed the feelings they were so scared to have, but had always been there develop and blossom naturally until you both were adults ready to move on to that stage in your friendship.

They know you best. No matter how much you grow as a person, you're still the same.

"That's a cute Keychain, Y/n!"

"Thanks! I've loved this show since I was a kid!"

They'll prove it to you.

[animeyanderelover]

•Prompt #-29 obito uchiha •I always imagine all the uchihas (separately) as asylum patients since they are very "intense" and reader as their psychiatrist.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional behavior, threats, intimidation, manipulation, gaslighting, guilt-tripping, an asylum, they are crazier than normally, death, violence

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

Uchiha's in a mental asylum

Otsutsuki Indra

💜​Indra as a patient would be very difficult and you would probably only be one of many psychiatrists that have attempted their luck with him only to fail. It's no secret that he looks down on most people in the station from the patients to the staff. Arrogant yet angry, after having read through his files you figure out that he seems to have a severe inferiority complex after his younger brother was chosen as a successor to a quite successful business as the father did not see a prospering future with Indra as the new CEO. Only very few people know about this though as it is a delicate topic to be touched. One wrong word could after all lead to Indra being triggered and attacking someone as such incidents have happened in the past before with severe injuries for people around him. The first few sessions you don't get remotely close as Indra isn't even looking at you, giving you a cold shoulder as he just stares at the paintings on the wall with a bored look, his fingers drumming against the armrest of the sofa as you try to spark a conversation or at the very least gain his attention. You'd have more success with a wall though then with Indra.

💜​Apparently ou endure much more than the psychiatrists before you as one day suddenly his black eyes are on you, observing you coldly as he remarks with a tinge of annoyance that you are far peskier than those before you. Slowly he goes from ignoring you to putting you down, trying to crack your own self-esteem. He doesn't like that you think that you can just walk in every day and expect to fix him. Who do you think you are after all? He should be the one in control. It should always be him. He constantly tries to undermine your achievements and your knowledge, observes sharply for any flaws like a hawk to use those to crack your composed facade. That's how he has gotten those before you to quit but you are infuriatingly resilient. Indra hates that. He hates that you stand up against him even though you should avert your eyes as soon as you see him. Why aren't you backing down? The fissures appear within his own facade and you carefully try to navigate through them to reach him. You venture dangerously close to emotions that haven't been touched upon in a long time as Indra gets more and more fixated on you, unwilling to pull back and lose this mindgame.

💜​He pays so much attention. He pays too much attention. That is his mistake and his downfall. His emotions are deeply troubling, the intensity of them only adding to the decay of his walls. He loses that intimidating coldness around him as he is far more agitated. He starts collecting as much information as he can from other patients or from the staff, feeling humiliated as he acts like a beggar on his knees for any scraps of information. You only want to help but that is not how Indra sees this situation. No, instead he views it as a personal defeat, as a humiliation that adds another wound to his soul. Unable to allow history to repeat itself and see himself failing to claim something that should have been his once more, he almost gets desperate. During the next session you have with him, his full attention is on you, something that has never happened to this extent before. The look of anger and resentment is on his face the entire time, something you try to talk about with him. He doesn't instantly reply though as he instead slowly rises and walks over to you until he is towering over your seated form. Black eyes threatening to devour you as he bends down and whispers lowly that he will have you soon.

Uchiha Madara

🌑​Uchiha Madara has landed in a mental hospital after witnessing the murder of his younger brother and only family he had left. Ignoring all offers of therapy, his mind had only been set on revenge. Revenge he did get but there wasn't only the blood of one person on his hands. There was a time where he used to get triggered by anything that even remotely reminded him of the killer of his younger brother which led him to attack innocent people hence why he was sent to a mental hospital. He's gotten over the worst phase though not due to the sloppy attempts of the staff or his psychiatrists. You are told that Madara is prideful, easily bored with a tendency to do whatever he wants because he knows that most people stuck here are far too scared to stop him by themselves. Indeed, he seems to have very little respect when you introduce yourself to him during your first session. He's just sprawled on the couch, arching his back like a lazy cat. Only occasionally does he seem to think that you are worthy to be graced with a bored gaze of his before he stares at the ceiling again. You prove to have guts though when you tell him to sit his ass down when he attempts to leave.

🌑​Quickly you figure out that he seems to enjoy a little bit of banter and courage, all which you seem to possess. He's been bored to tears in this place as he admits to you. Everyone seems to be on eggshells in the hospital, no one can take a joke and everyone is always tired and so easily upset. There is just no fun in this place to be found. You're the first person in a long time who is that courageous enough to stand up to him yet it could only be a fleeting spark. So to not get his hopes needlessly up only to be left disappointed, Madara decides to test you out. He makes sure to be extra cocky, smug and intimidating during the following sessions to see if this place will infect you with the same anxiety as it does everyone else. You pass that test with flying colours though, keep that spunky spark within you alive and well which has his heart fluttering. Suddenly he starts looking forward to his sessions with you as around you the air is fresh, not stagnant as it is around everyone else. More than once he attempts to see if he can make you lose your composure but you hold on to your self-control very well and he respects that, especially since he has seen lots of people crumble in this place.

🌑​Perhaps it is only logical that Madara would find himself so fixated on you in a place that normally sucks the soul out of everyone who steps remotely close to the building. You actually look and act like you are still alive and stable, have kept your humor and your energy with you. Madara almost feels the urge to protect that fire within you to keep it from being extinguished. You sense it more and more how he attempts to flirt with you though you don't indulge him to not give him any hope or to encourage any illusion. However, he starts feeling quite possessive of your time as he requests your service more than once only to waste sessions other patients might need. You know why he is doing this after all. When he finds out that you have started tending to another patient, you sense the subtle shift within his expression. His eyes narrow as he lets out an intrigued hum. For safety reasons you do ot tell him any names but it was foolish of you to think that Madara wouldn't find out otherwise. Your next session with him is cancelled as you are informed the next day that he was put into a solitary cell after he murdered another patient yesterday who just happened to be yours.

Uchiha Obito

🔥​Obito is someone everyone approaches with caution, someone who is often kept isolated from even other patients as there have been more than enough incidents that led to serious injuries and an outburst of panic and fear within the station. Obito had to witness how his own girlfriend was brutally murdered in front of his own eyes, unable to save her. When the police arrived in the scene the entire place had been coated in human stain and he had attacked everyone who had gotten close to the dead body of his lover. He has never gotten over her death, hears in fact still her voice in his head. Whether he is awake or asleep, his mind is unable to let the memory of her go. His girlfriend is his life and he has nearly strangled one of his psychiatrists when they dared to suggest that he would be able to heal as soon as he would accept that she was gone and let go. What did they know about him after all? No one would ever be able to understand him. The only person who did was his dead lover and since then Obito has developed a very cynical view on the world, has even verbally degraded patients who had made progress in their recovery. That's when you enter the scene.

🔥​For your own protection Obito is kept separated from you as you talk to him from behind a translucent wall so that the both of you can at the very least sill see each other with your eyes. He doesn't even bother looking at you, one cynical glare full of bitterness is the only thing you receive before he stares at the floor, tuning out of reality as he focuses on the voice of his girlfriend within his mind. Long hours you spend sitting there with him, asking him questions only to be left ignored. That process is repeated for days on end. Until one day he randomly interrupts you as he just tells you that he has no interest of getting better and that there would be nothing worthy out there for him anyways. It's the first time that he has actually spoken to you and you view it as a win for now. It's the first step that slowly betters the relationship you have with him. Most of the time he just attempts to push his negative mindset on you as he finds your optimism disgusting and useless but you don't give in. You are a constant presence within his life and after eternities of isolation actual human contact seems to have an unexpected effect on his mind. He starts hearing your voice in his head too.

🔥​Sweet words that his girlfriend used to speak to him are suddenly spoken with your voice in his mind, quickly deteriorating a mind that is already broken. As Obito is loyal to death though he finds himself forced to face the reality that his girlfriend is dead as he falls dangerously in love with you. She gives him her blessing though before she leaves him for good, wishes him his happiness with you and he sheds tears when she goes until he has a headache from crying. The moment she disappears, all his infatuation and desperation is fired at you. You figure that out the next session. The moment he sees you, he slams himself against the protective glass separating the two of you all whilst you stumble back in shock. His nails claw against the thick glass until they are bloody, black eyes staring at you with sickening infatuation as he tells you that he has finally let his girlfriend go as if he expects something for that in return. In his mind he does though, he gave her up so that he could love the you in the world of the living. A heavy sacrifice he committed out of love and devotion and in his mind is deserving of your own affection and love.

Uchiha Shisui

🍂​Shisui has always been someone who chose to not share his thoughts and worries with anyone. After all he grew up in an environment surrounded by people who hailed him as a genius and a prodigy. Vulnerability would have equalled weakness and failure, both attributes he wasn't allowed to have. So instead Shisui has always buried everything deep within him. For years pain, anger and feelings that he has never dealt with piled up until it all resulted in one massive meltdown that got him in the mental hospital that he is in still to this day. He hasn't heard anything from his family ever since he was brought here as only his best friend still keeps in touch with him. Shisui doesn't know if they are too ashamed to be associated with him anymore or if they are too scared after witnessing his mental breakdown. He suspects that perhaps it is a mixture of both of those theories. He can still joke with other patients, he stands up if someone is unfairly treated but it is undeniable that he is still quite lonely as all relationships he has built are ultimately superficial and shallow. Perhaps this is just the price that he has to pay after he failed the expectations that were on his shoulders.

🍂​In comparison to other patients that you have had in the past, Shisui is one of the easier ones. He responds to all of your questions politely, he tells you openly when he doesn't want to talk about something and he seems actually interested in keeping a conversation with you. Even you he manages to fool. In reality Shisui has no real interest in therapy and the different methods that people like you try out to get a patient to open up. However, he knows just how taxing and ungrateful the job of everyone involved in this facility can be and the very least that he can do is to actually act decently around you and so he does exactly that. As much as you attempt to not let it show, he senses that the sessions that you have with him are almost a break for you as you know that he won't scream, threaten you with death or insult you. That's why he shoulders yet another responsibility as he decides to make your work just that little bit easier but he doesn't let you nor anybody else notice that. Secretly the roles are almost reversed in that sense as he eases your nerves whenever you have a session with him. With that sense of responsibility comes a sense of attachment though.

🍂​Almost immediately does Shisui sense that attachment grow, spiraling out of control in a pace that almost frightens him. He doesn't know what it is that has made those emotions of his react so intensely but he knows that the damage has been done and that there is nothing that he cando now. What he does know is that he needs to keep you engaged now that it has gotten so far. Slowly he pretends to open up, admits thoughts and feelings to you that he has never spoken about before to create the illusion that you are getting somewhere with him. To Shisui it is obvious that as long as he is still stuck within those walls, his chances with you are slim and little. He needs to play the long game if he wants to have a realistic chance with you and he is committed to play it. His manipulation is subtle but steady, enough to invade one's mind gradually without them even noticing. When there is someone within the facility that he feels the need to get rid of he never does it himself. No, instead he manipulates someone else into doing it without taking the blame. After all he is always watching, knows all about every relationship and weak point about the staff and the patients.

Uchiha Itachi

🍡​Itachi is a silent shadow within the facility. He never stands out, he has never once made a ruckus or caused trouble for other patients or the guards. However, it seems like he is doomed to walk across the floors like a ghost haunting the place. He has no friends, has made no attempts at all to socialise and that has essentially led to no one knowing really anything about him. He feels like a stranger even though he has been in this institution for quite a while now already. Only the files that you receive contain information about him and his past but beyond that no one really knows what he is like. Apparently pressure and expectations from his family have accumulated into one massive mental breakdown for Itachi after years of stuffing everything away deep within his heart. The guards reveal to you that they have only really seen him talking and expressing emotions when his younger brother visits him. The relationship between his father and him is completely estranged and even his mother struggles to reach him though around her he is not as motionless and cold as when he is faced with his father. They tell you that so far he has never opened up nor spoken with any psychiatrist that he has had.

🍡​You can quickly attest to the truth of that statement. Itachi actually doesn't ignore you. He looks at you and listens to you when you ask question but he answers none of them, your voice the only sound that cuts the silence between the two of you. Initially you remain optimistic but as session after session passes you slowly start to get frustrated with the lack of results, something that the other staff notices as well. They comfort you, tell you that you're not the first one but the looming possibility that you may be given another patient instead gets slightly on your nerves. At one point you actually start talking less with him as both of you end up doing your own thing instead as you run out of ideas. Ironically enough it is during one of those sessions of complete silence that he speaks for the first time and all because you bring a book full with stories for children with you which you plan to read to your neighbour's kid for tonight. You notice how his eyes flicker over the cover of the book, his head turning. When you ask him hesitantly what is going on he seems to contemplate for a few moments before he eventually admits that he used to read the same book to his younger brother back in the days.

🍡​You discover that he is more likely to talk about fond memories that he has with his little brother than about himself and soon you realise that all of his positive memories involve Sasuke as he can't even recall one good memory he has had with his father, a stain that always seems to ruin any happy memory that could have been made. You make progress, surprise even your collegues. Itachi talks to you, he actually reveals bits of his thoughts and feelings to you and you listen intently, always thinking how to help him and slowly help him. What you fail to notice because they are so subtle are Itachi's growing feelings for you. You have a weird effect on you that lowers the walls he has built around his heart which makes it harder to keep those emotions under the grasp of control that he has always kept them. He knows that he can't admit that to anyone though, not even to you. You would be removed from the position of his psychiatrist and he can't allow that to happen. Not after he has started falling in love with you albeit in strange ways. Similar to Shisui, Itachi is going to play the long game with you and lock his feelings for you away as good as he can for now until the day he is released.

Uchiha Sasuke

🩵​Sasuke is difficult to handle. A look within his files reveals why he is that way though as his past is marked with more tragedies than most people will experience throughout their entire lives. His entire family was murdered by his own brother who was wanted by the police for years only for Sasuke to track him down years later. His older brother, murdered by his own hands only to find out after he had been arrested by the police that they had found out that he had been blackmailed as Sasuke would have otherwise been murdered as the youngest son of a prominent chief. One can only imagine what he must have gone through after that information had been revealed to him as he had just killed his last family member with his own hands, the blood still sticking to his fingers. When he had initially been delivered to the psychiatric ward he had been nothing but a bundle of rage, anger and hatred. Unwilling to get on friendly terms with anyone, harsh words shot at ay person who had gotten too close to him or had even remotely tried to get to know him better. Even violence hadn't been that unlikely from him which had resulted in him spending a lot of time in the solitary cell.

🩵​By the time you are appointed to be his psychiatrist Sasuke has learned to deal with his rage better though it all is still simmering within him. He's just managed to control it better. He's disinterested when he is forced to attend his first session with you though. You are only one of many faces after all and he's sure that you too will leave sooner or later. There is one specific reason why you have been appointed to him though. Your mother actually knew his parents as she worked in the same station as his father and perhaps that's why you are believed to have better chances with him as your mother has told you a lot about his parents. The moment he finds out, that dismissive attitude changes as you notice it in his eyes during the next session as they inspect you with a hint of hostility and unease. It's uncomfortable, the thought that you may know more about him than people should know about him. His past is what makes him vulnerable and because you have more personal information about his parents and potentially even him it makes him feel exposed. He's definitely more on defense after he knows that though at one point he can't help but ask what you all know from your mother.

🩵​He lives in the past, you can tell that as you indulge him and tell him of memories your mother has told you about his father and his mother. The most talkative you witness him is when you tell him about the past as his happiness only exists within that place. He clings to what was and you want to try to shift his focus to the now. In a way you succeed, though perhaps not quite as you had imagined. Sasuke bonds with you over his past, bonds with you. It's the first time that he has actually formed a functioning relationship with someone ever since the death of his brother and his emotions almost instantly latch on to you as a result. Sasuke is demanding. If he is going to have a future in this world then you will be in it. One way or another he is going to have you in his life and he doesn't need your consens for that. You should rejoice though, after all you can do exactly the job you are supposed to do for him. You can help him to get better, to start a new life. Sure, the methods might be vastly different from what you are supposed to do for your patients but he's sure that you will do whatever it takes to help to get him better. Otherwise he mightdestroy the progress you have made with him.

[just-a-itty-bitty-kitty]

Voice of the Smitten is a coping mechanism. (and so are the other voices)

The same thing applies to the rest of the voices, yes. But for my sanity, today, let's just talk about Smitten[I am ill about him].

Smitten is fixated on the Princess and on appeasing Her because he's born out of a belief that She's their only way to happiness and safety.

In Damsel's chapter 1, LQ establishes for themself that the Narrator is not a safe nor trustworthy person, but unlike Prisoner's ch1, instead of learning to be generally cautious and adopting an idea that there's no one they can fully trust, Quiet puts all of their trust into the Princess.

I strongly believe that, in order to shield themself from a dangerous, unclear, and scary reality, LQ dives into a sort of... 'fairytale' scenario. And that scenario, by extension, becomes the backbone of Smitten's whole worldview. He, just like the rest of the voices, is born out of a need for safety and control, and he knows of it as his purpose and his yearning. His mindset works as a mechanism that protects Quiet from a state of intense stress and discomfort.

So then, what is this mindset, exactly?

Well, for Smitten, expectations of certain roles appear. Roles that everyone has and needs to uphold: The Shining Knight, the Helpless Damsel, the Villain that's keeping them apart.

"Then you should know that we and the Princess are in love and the four of us will be foiling any and all assassination attempts you've got in the works."

These roles bring a sense of comfort. He has this vision of what the world is supposed to be, of what he's supposed to be. Fairytales always have happy endings, so with this vision, there comes a promise of everything working out.

"If he just makes everything go the way it's supposed to, then they'll be safe."

It gives Smitten the role of a protector, someone who controls the situation and wants the best for Quiet, as opposed to the Narrator who has an ulterior motive and clearly just wants to hurt them.

It gives him a sense of control.

So when something goes wrong, it feels like that control is yanked away, and that threatens his and LQ's safety. It takes away his happy ending that he tries so hard to keep.

"We'll get our happy ending, even if it damns each and every person who's ever lived!"

Another thing worth remembering is that the voices and LQ are at least under the impression that they haven't been living for very long. The only experiences they have to go off of, to learn from, are the ones we see in Chapter 1 and then on. To Smitten, the last time things went awry, they died horribly.

So it's no wonder he freaks out and feels like he has to push back for control. And that is also why he sees no problem with killing Quiet's body or even detaching himself from them entirely.

"Don't mind my sacrifice. It's a fair price to pay to give her everything she doesn't know she wants."

He places the responsibility for taking care of everyone on himself. Smitten is firmly under the impression that he "knows better". And he's even proven right a fair amount of times, which only solidifies the idea in his head.

"I told you! There's no life more worth living than that of a true believer!"

"I told you our love was insurmountable!"

But that also means Smitten unintentionally traps himself(and everyone around him) into a box, limiting his potential to just that, a shallow role. And that creates the feeling of inferiority.

His role is all there is to him, so if he can't uphold it, then it means there's something fundamentally wrong with him. It means he's failed.

In fact, Smitten seems to be laser-focused on his own shortcomings, at least when it comes to the Princess.

If She's somehow unhappy with anything Smitten has to offer, then it's not because She did something wrong, or because of some outside factor out of their control(he doesn't want to accept anything being out of his control, even if it would seemingly benefit him). No, it's because Smitten wasn't enough.

He idolizes Her while putting himself down.

"That's because she's perfect!"

It's a bit more complicated with The Long Quiet. On one hand, they are technically one person, but on the other, the voices like to distinguish themselves and seem to have a sense of their own identity.

If we take a look at one of Damsel's third chapters: The Burned Grey, Smitten is very distraught and angry at Quiet, and yet also berates himself at the same time.

"Ah, yes. The mirror. So we can see the monster we've become."

"No, my love! You did nothing wrong! I'm sorry! I'M SORRY, NOT YOU!"

So I think we can assume that it's a mix of both. He may feel angry at LQ but will ultimately blame himself.

Because it's his job to make sure everything went smoothly. It's his job to make sure that She was happy, because if She's happy – they're happy and they just threw all of his work away, but he was supposed to stop them. He was supposed to keep them happy.

He was supposed to keep them happy.

[secretlysamcro]

Female reader x Jax Teller SMUT, violence, explicit language & possible spoilers. If you're under the age of 18, haven't finished the show, or dislike any of said topics, please read no further.

Request: “The reader loses her job and needs money to pay her mothers medical bills, she goes to see Lyla who is her friend at diosa, Lyla feels awful about the situation speaks to Opie about offering you a job at diosa to pay for the bills and he speaks to the sons about it, They let her work there and Lyla shows her the ropes of the place, after a week the sons come for a for a visit after a long day to relax and let’s just say that the reader catches jaxs eye and requests to spend the night with her. (he and Tara aren’t together)”

Backstory: Desperate to cover your mother’s medical bills, you’re willing to do whatever it takes to make ends meet. Even if that means stepping into the world of escorting. Resulting in one of the Sons, taking a particular liking to you.

“Shit” you curse as you notice another letter has been slipped through the mail slot, your mother not bothering to pick it up, which can only mean one thing. More medical bills. It’s been over two weeks since you lost your job, and no matter how hard you’ve been trying, nowhere is hiring and it’s starting to feel impossible. Soon enough you’ll be unable to help cover your mother’s bills, and when that happens…everything falls apart.

Adding the letter to the growing stack of unopened envelopes, you make your way up to your room. With a heavy sigh, you throw yourself onto the bed, eyes fixated on the ceiling as your mind races, scrambling for your next move having no idea what to apply for or where to even start. That’s when your friend Lyla pops into your head.

Y:N: Hey Lyla is it ok if I drop in and see you at Diosa tomorrow? I might need some help.

You and Lyla had known each other for a while now, but ever since she took over at Diosa, your friendship had faded slightly. Not because either of you didn’t care, but because life got in the way. You had your mom to worry about, and she had Diosa to run. You let out a faint laugh as you wonder why you never thought sooner to see if Lyla had a job for you, but then again working somewhere like Diosa would be completely new territory.

Lyla: Hi y/n. Sure thing I have 2 help Ope in the morning but will b in after 12. Hope everything is ok?

You stand up, getting undressed for your shower, catching your reflection in the mirror. Your hands trailing over your body as a flood of thoughts race through your mind. Can I even do this? Can I really be an escort? You tilt your head, studying yourself, doubt lingering over you but so does determination.

You step up to the doors, hesitating ever so slightly. You’ve driven past this place hundreds of times but stepping inside, is something you never even considered. You take a deep breath as you push the door open and take your first step inside.

Stepping into Diosa Norte for the first time, you stop to take in your surroundings. Women moving effortlessly through the room, leading men upstairs, their different conversations causing a low hum. The environment is some what warm and inviting, definitely different to what you had expected.

“Hey, can I help you?” A dark haired man approaches you, a phone pressed to his ear, but his conversation on pause to acknowledge you. His arms have intricate tattoos placed on them.

“Hi, I’m uh… looking for Lyla?” You say, glancing around the room before landing your eyes back onto him.

“Lyla? Yeah, she had some things to take care of, you know, but she should be back in a minute. Go ahead, take a seat” he looks at his watch before gesturing you towards a very comfy looking sofa.

“Thanks” you reply, offering a polite smile.

The man returns to his call. “Jax, you know what your Moms like if she said…” his voice fading as he walks deeper into Diosa.

As your eyes scan the ‘XXX’ menu in front of you, your attention is diverted when you hear someone calling your name.“y/n? hey!” Lyla greets you with a warm smile as she steps inside. Approaching you for a hug. “Hope you haven’t been waiting long” her tone light as she rubs your shoulder in a sympathetic way. “Let’s go upstairs” she says, leading you to the staircase.

You follow her, as you get to the top of the stairs you cant help but hear the sound of muffled moans accompanied by laughter and the slight creak of bed springs from behind the closed doors. You inhale a large breath as the smallest bit of uncertainty creeps in. Is this really where you belong? Lyla looks over her shoulder, catching the slight uncomfortableness written over your face. “Yeah, I never said it was any quieter up here” she laughs, as she opens the office door in front of you both.

She shuts the door behind you, the sound of pleasure fading away into silence. The rooms feels quieter as the weight of your situation hangs in the air. Lyla leans back against the desk, her stare sharp as she looks towards you.

“Come on then, what’s up?” She asks casually, a hint of concern underneath. She could tell from your text that something is wrong. She knows a brief history about your mother and her medical issues. She knows things have been rough these past few years so she’s already assumed it’s something to do with that.

“Where do I even begin?” You say with a shaky laugh, your throat tightening as you try to hold back the tears.

Lyla watches you closely, sensing the weight of your situation and the vulnerability you’re trying to keep hidden. You take a deep breath, the tears settling for just a moment as you begin to explain.

You tell her everything, a few tears spilled in between. You tell her all about your mother’s mounting medical bills, the ones you can’t keep up with no matter how hard you try. Losing your job, making it even harder. You tell her how it feels like the world is on your shoulders and there’s no way out.

“I just… I don’t know who else to turn to…” you say quitley. ”…are you hiring here?” You look towards your feet, knowing Lyla knows this isn’t your usual scene.

Her face immediately softens, stepping closer, the concern in her face evident. “I’m so sorry” her words are gentle yet reassuring. She knows what it’s like to be stuck, backed in a corner with no way out.

“I’d need to talk to Jax and Nero, I can’t just hire on the spot, it’s a process, but I’ll do everything I can to help” Her words aren’t the solution you’re looking for, but you can only try…right?

“Look, keep looking around just incase but I’ll talk to Ope tonight, I’m sure I can get him to talk to Jax… okay?” She holds your hand now. Her touch sincere.

“Thanks Lyla” you squeeze her hand, truly thanking her, this really could be your last life line.

“You okay babe?” Opies voice is soft but filled with concern as he sits at the edge of the bed, watching as Lyla enters the room. She exhales slowly, her mind still caught up in y/n’s situation. She gets comfy as she straddles onto Opie, her voice steady but tinged with worry as she starts to explain.

“It’s y/n, she’s struggling. Her mom’s bills are piling up, she's lost her job it’s just a lot for her right now you know…” her expression filled with empathy for her friend.

After a long pause, hesitantly she speaks up. “Do you think Jax could help? Maybe hire her?” She doesn’t want to sound too desperate, she knows Opie and the club already have a lot on their plate.

Opie closes his eyes softly, considering the question. “I’ll talk to Jax, but it’s not up to me” he responds “you think she could handle that?”. Lyla nods slowly, knowing you’ll do whatever it takes. She appreciates his honestly, hoping there’s a slight chance Jax and Nero will agree.

Jax is taking in the fresh air, enjoying a rare moment of quiet before Opie walks up, flipping open his lighter and sparking a cigarette. He takes a long drag before speaking.

“Lyla’s got this friend, names y/n” his tone starting casual. “She’s been dealin’ with a lot, moneys tight and her mom’s not doing too good. She's trying but it ain’t easy, brother”.

Jax takes the cigarette from Opie's hand, before inhaling himself he mutters “you tellin' me this for a reason?” Knowing Opie isn’t one to bring up something unless it mattered.

Opie takes a deep breath. “Lyla's been on my ass about helping her out. Figured I’d ask before she chews my ear off”

Jax smirks “and what can I do about it?” He passes the cigarette back to Opie.

“You got any jobs open at Diosa?” His eyes lay on the ground as he takes another drag.

Jax tilts his head, considering the idea “Lyla think she’d be a good fit?”

“Lyla thinks she just needs a break” he lets out a dry chuckle. “Nice set of tits though” He adds, continuing to laugh.

Jax rubs his jaw, thinking it over. “I’ll talk to Nero, see what we can do” he finally says. “Looking at another woman’s tits” he shakes his head, clicking his tongue in a mocked disapproving tone.

“Appreciate it” Opie nods, flicking his cigarette away.

“No promises” Jax insists, as they head back into the clubhouse.

Jax pulls up to his mom’s house, turning off the engine before stepping inside. Gemma and Nero are standing in the kitchen, coffee in hand. He leans down behind his Mom, pressing a kiss to her head.

“Hey ma” he says softly.

“Hey baby” Gemma says raising her hand to soothe his face.

Moving over to Nero, he pats him on the shoulder as he passes by, taking a seat at the table. “Wassup homes?” He smirks.

“You tell me mano” he says, watching Jax over the rim of his cup. “You look like you about to drop some shit in my lap”.

Jax exhales, rubbing the back of his neck “need a favor” he smirks just a little. “Lylas got a friend. Girls in a tight spot, needs money to help her mom or some shit. Looking for a bit of work. Lyla thinks she might be a good fit at Diosa” he waits for Neros response.

Nero takes a seat, leaning back in the chair. “She got experience?”.

Jax rolls his shoulders, “not sure” he admits. “I don’t have time to meet her myself, clubs got me running shit all over. Think you can handle it?”.

Nero studies Jax, making his own mind up. “And you trust Lyla’s judgment on this?”

“Lyla knows what she’s doing when it comes to the talent, and if she’s not cut out for it, no hard feelings send her packing” Jax smiles “I trust your judgement too” he fiddles with the toothpick in his mouth.

Nero nods, a small breath leaving his nose, like he’s already regretting his decision. He nods anyway “Have her come by tomorrow, I’ll check her out”

“Thank you brother” Jax responds as Nero shakes his head with a chuckle.

“Yeah, yeah” he waves his hand “just don’t make a habit out of it, Diosa ain’t a damn charity”

Jax’s pushes his chair backwards, preparing to stand up. “Tell that to the girls paying your bills”.

Nero just laughs, shaking his head as Jax approaches his Mom. They exchange a few quick words before he leaves her with another kiss, signalling a small nod to Nero and then leaving, back into his own world of chaos.

As you walk into Diosa, your heart is racing, even more than the first time. Knowing you’re actually here to get the ball rolling. The scent of perfume and something sweet fills the air as you try to push your nerves down, the anxiety building in your chest.

Lyla spots you almost immediately, as she leans casually against the bar. “Hey girl, you ready to meet Nero?” Her eyes sparkling with reassurance.

“Hey” you say in response, swallowing your nerves and nodding as you followed her over to where Nero was stood. He was leaning against a wall near the back of the reception room, arms crossed scanning the place with calm authority. That’s when you realise he’s the same guy from the other day who you spoke to when you had first walked in.

As you got closer, Nero’s eyes flickered to you, a small hint of recognition lighting them up. “You… were here the other day right? Waiting for Lyla” you took a steady breath before speaking.

“Yeah that was me…I don’t really know what I’m doing but I’m willing to learn, anything and I’m down” you practically plead.

Nero doesn’t respond straight away, he looks you up and down his expression unreadable. Finally he speaks. “Experience matters here mama…” his eyes soften ”…but having Lyla vouch for you? That means a lot… I’ll give you a shot. You got a week to prove to me how bad you want this… think of it as a you know, a sort of trial run” his eyes smile but his mouth doesn’t move.

“Lyla will show you the ropes and shit” he goes to walk off but turns round suddenly “it ain’t all about sex though mama, you remember that. Some of these men, want connection” he flickers his fingers in the air mimicking fireworks.

You smile at Nero, mouthing a silent ‘thank you’ he gives the smallest nod before turning back to his business, already moving on from the conversation. Lyla rests a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you got this, okay?” she says as she squeezes you slightly.

Lyla walks you through the dimly lit halls, gesturing to the different rooms as she explains what (or who) goes down in each. “I’ll show you how things work, what the guys expect, what to look out for and all that stuff” and that’s exactly what she does, no sugar coating it either.

“Before we go any further, let’s talk safety” she says, her tone switching to professional. “First rule. You don’t do anything you’re not comfortable with, ever! I don’t care how much money they offer or how sweet they talk, if you ain’t feeling it, you say no, got it?” You nod, her tone coming down a notch.

“Second… protection, always. No exceptions. If they try to argue, tell them to take that shit somewhere else, every room has one of these alarms, use it if you need to. Someone will be up straight away” she then hands you a small bag full of condoms. “We keep these stocked, you’ll never run out. Every top drawer will be full of them, make sure they’re wrapped before anything happens” she pauses tilting her head, “you on birth control?”

You laugh, hesitating for a second, all of this feeling a bit surreal before you answer “yeah”, looking through the condom bag, different brands, sizes, styles and color.

“Good. If you ever need anything, pills, a doctor, whatever just come to me okay, no shame, no judgement” she straightens up, “you’ve got a week, I have faith in you sweetie” she says, giving you a sense of hope.

She gives you another small smile, seeing the nerves flow through you. “You won’t be getting down to the good stuff tonight, there’s a room just down there, clothes shoes and everything you’ll need, all different sizes. Find something that suits you, okay?” She says, you’re starting to feel at ease now. “Tonight’s about getting comfortable. We’ll have you mingle a bit, meet some of the girls, chat with the guys keep them happy with conversation while the others handle the rest… how does that sound?” She asks, leaning against the door frame, noting that you don’t look as tense as before.

“I think I’m good” you laugh, taking another deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for tonight.

“Go on then, go find something to wear” she says with a laugh, pointing you to the room a few doors down.

Despite the nerves that held you back in the beginning, as the days go by you were starting to feel much more comfortable in your skin. It hadn’t been easy, but you were beginning to see just how well you were adapting to this new routine. Everyday felt a little smoother, and even though you had your moments of doubt, they weren’t as regular as before.

At first, everything had been a blur of awkwardness, especially your first client. The nerves were overwhelming and the experience was uncomfortable at best. But after that, something shifted. The second client was easier, all tension gone as soon as you found your hidden confidence. By the third, you realised Nero was right, it wasn’t all about sex, this guy just wanted to be listened too, be held as he cried about the dramas he was having with his wife. It was pretty sad actually.

Tonight, as the last day of your week, it was your chance to prove to Nero and the others that you were ready and that you wanted to stick around. There would be no turning back after today.

Jax stepped into Diosa with the rest of the club. It had been a long day, the kind of day that made you want to shut everything else out a lose yourself for a while. Diosa being the perfect place to do that. No questions asked, no drama, just the freedom to let off some pent up steam.

Jax slid onto one of the bar stools, catching the eye of Lyla behind the bar. He gave her a nod, and she waved back. His attention is shifting around the room as the rest of the guys settled in. His eyes finding you immediately.

You’re leant against the furthest side of the bar talking with a few of the other girls you had made friends with this past week. His gaze lingered, drawn to you without even realising why. He leant back on his stool trying to shake the feeling off, it’s a rare thing for him to feel something so quick for a woman he barely knew.

Nero, moving into the stool beside him. “I see you eyeing up the new girl” he laughs, waving one of the other girls attention for a drink.

Jax doesn’t take his eyes off you, watching as you laugh and engage in conversation. He couldn’t explain it but he felt drawn to you. “She new?” He questions.

Nero chuckles “you serious?” His eyebrow twitches “that’s y/n, the one you wanted to help out….” He says shaking his head.

Jax let out a dry laugh, rubbing his face “shit… that’s her?” He remembers the conversation he had with Opie, about Lylas friend needing help, but with him being too wrapped up in club shit he never had the time to actually sit down and meet her himself, passing the task onto Nero, that is until tonight.

Nero's grin grows wider “No shit mano, that’s your employee though can’t keep staring at her like you’re about to eat her alive”

Jax laughs, a yearning look in his eyes. “let’s call it quality control”.

Nero, shaking his head “sure, sure, but you might wanna think twice about sleeping with your workers” he raises his eyebrows.

Jax’s smirk faded just a little as he looks over to you once more, a whole new set of thoughts running through his mind. “Wish me luck” he says, standing from the seat and patting Nero on the back.

“That boy ain’t ever gonna learn” Nero muttered as he watched Jax make his way towards you.

Both you and Lyla are unaware of his approach. He took a moment, sweeping over you, trying to read you. You looked comfortable enough, but he could sense something slight in your posture, the way you carried yourself like you were still deciding if you belonged here.

Lyla clocks him first, smirking as she makes eye contact just over your shoulder. “Look who finally decides to show up, huh” she teases lightly. “y/n, meet Jax Teller. The other half of Diosa” she smiles.

For the first time, your eyes meet, and for a brief moment, the noise of Diosa fades into the background. There was something there. A pull neither of you could explain.

You held his stare, refusing to shrink under the weight of it. Instead, you offer a tender smile. “I just wanted to say... thank you...you know for the opportunity” your words stammering slightly as you try to hold his gaze.

A slow smirk grew from the corners of Jax’s mouth, something unreadable you noticed in his eyes. “No problem...good to finally put a face to the name” He gives you a small nod.

Opie walks up, wrapping his arms around Lyla from behind, whispering something into her ear. Whatever it was made her blush and smile. Opie nodded at you with a friendly smile “Hey y/n”.

He then slaps Jax on the shoulder. “Catch you later brother” Jax smirks in response, knowing exactly what their about to do. With that, Opie and Lyla excuse themselves from the conversation, leaving you and Jax alone, the sudden quiet between you, forcing a conversation.

Jax leans against the bar, getting closer to you now. “So...” he began, his tone smooth and casual “How’s your first few days been?” an edge of curiosity behind his tone.

You turn your whole body to face him now, he takes in what you’re wearing. A lacy black two piece hugging your body, with a long robe, feathers hanging off at the arm sleeves and its base veil, its soft fabric catching the light as you settle in your seat.

“It was... a lot to take in, but I...” you stop mid sentence as you realised what you’d just said, the unintentional innuendo slipping out from your mouth. Jax’s smile beaming, clearly catching on.

“Not... like that” you say quickly, laughing through your embarrassment. "not that it wasnt...but...I'm just gonna stop talking now…" you try to save yourself

Jax’s laugh grows louder, his shoulders dancing up and down with amusement. "It's okay, you ain’t gotta explain yourself” he teased, sensing how flustered you just got.

“So you busy tonight or...” he questions wondering how long he has left to talk to you.

Running your finger over the rim of your glass before drinking it, you begin to respond “Depends…if someone asks for me, then yes, if not then no, I'll just be down here floating around” You let your eyes trace over Jax’s form, a deliberate smile creeping onto your face.

“What about you?…” you ask, treading lightly, your tone low but teasing. “…you got a favorite girl here or...”

Jax’s eyes light up ever so slightly as a grin spreads across his face at your question. He chuckles whilst shaking his head. “I don’t mix business with pleasure” he says softly, as if he’s not entirely letting his guard down, not wanting to give away his mission of the night.

You let out a laugh, clearly not buying his answer. Before you go to question how he eases his tension, a client walks in. You glance at Jax with a mischievous glimmer in your eye. “See ya around…boss” you say, your tone playful, before making your way over to the man.

His gaze sharpens, the faintest hint of jealousy creeping in as he watches you sway towards the new comer. He continues watching intently as your figure moves, the sheer fabric of the robe barely concealing you as the feathers caressing the edge of the lower veil trail behind you. A restless twitch stirs just below his belt, his eyes sharpening as he takes you in. His eyes don’t leave the interaction as he watches you welcome the new client into Diosa.

Jax grits his teeth, his grip tightening around his beer as he watches you intently. His eyes narrow when the man moves in too close. Jax can see now that the man is completely intoxicated, swaying and mumbling things that don’t make sense.

You look left and right, clearly getting uncomfortable now, his breath is heavy and he’s pushing too close, not taking the hint.

Jax groans, pushing off from the bar and striding towards the both of you, every muscle in his body tense with readiness.

“We got a problem?” Jax’s voice is deep, causing the air around them to thicken. Nero, who is currently talking to an employee begins to steal looks almost as if he realises something is off. Chibs doing the same as he’s sitting with a Diosa girl.

You turn to him, thankful of his presence. “He’s too drunk to be in here” you say, looking back at the drunken figure. “I’ve told him hes gotta got but he’s insisting”.

The drunk looks around in your direction “just... s-suck my dick like I asked... you wh...” he hiccups in between words “...you whore”. He sneers, leaning closer again.

Before you can react, Jax is on him. His fist connects with the man’s jaw with a sickening force. He stumbles back, but not for too long. He retaliates, throwing a wild punch that catches Jax in the side of his face. Nero and Chibs appear from nowhere, rushing to break them both apart as the fight escalates.

The others upstairs, completely oblivious, lost in their own worlds of pleasure, as you experience your first down side of working at Diosa.

It doesn’t take long for the dust to settle. Nero throwing the man out, but not before adding a few punches of his own. Jax touches the cut now bleeding from above his eyebrow. His jaw tightens with lingering anger as he notices the blood. Without a word, he turns and walks off into one of the rooms, slamming the door behind him.

Nero gives you a once over, his look full of concern. “You good, Mija?” He rubs your shoulder gently. He’s impressed with how you handled that. No panic, no drama, just calm and collected. Jax though, will be hearing Neros thoughts later.

“Yeah, i’m okay, he was just too much…sorry” you admit, Nero nods in total agreement.

“We’re all about safety mama, don’t apologise. You did the right thing” he lets you know, before walking back over to Chibs.

You hesitate for a moment, the adrenaline still rushing through your veins. As the others continue talking, dissecting what had just gone on, you decide to quietly slip away and check on Jax, easing open the door he just slammed shut.

Jax was sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands, elbows resting on his knees. His once perfected hair now messy giving him more of a rough edge. His knuckles were raw, and a small trickle of blood ran from a cut just above his eyebrow. He exhaled deeply, lost in thought, but second he noticed you, he straightened. His blue eyes locking onto yours.

“You good?” He asks, his voice steady. Scanning you for any sign of distress.

You scoff just a little, “I should be asking you that” you say, walking further into the room, closing the door behind you.

“You could, but I asked first” he smiled, seeing you approach. You roll your eyes in response, feeling the way your chest tightens as his gaze lingered on you. He looked at you as if you were more than a woman he barely knew.

You don’t respond with words, you were too busy grabbing a paper towel from the nightstand and wetting it with some of the bottled water, the sound of soft rustling coming from the towel seems to fill the room as he tracks you with each step you take.

You kneel down in front of him, parting his legs slightly with your own. You were close to him now, a little too close, but neither of you seemed to mind. Your focus mainly on the cut above his eyebrow, his strong scent hovering around you, sweat, leather and smoke tinged with his personal smell. His hands are resting on the bed beside him, as if he was trying to maintain his composure. You could tell he was hurting but he wasn’t one to make a scene of it.

“Hold still” you mumble, as you dab the towel gently against the cut. His body shifting slightly in response to the pain. His eyes never leaving yours, except for the occasional quick glance down at your chest, so close he could almost feel the heat radiating off you.

“You always this caring for the guys you barely know?” He asks, his voice playful and almost teasing.

“You always checking out the tits of the person patching you up?” You shoot back with a smirk as you continues to clean the blood away from his face.

He falters for a second, a bit of colour rising up his face but he shakes it off just as fast. “Lyla told Ope about your mom, the bills and everything” he studies your reaction “That’s the only reason you’re here? Wanting the job?”

You finish cleaning the cut, then press your hands into his thighs as you push yourself up, the warmth of his skin seeping through his jeans. His eyes linger downwards, watching the way your hands move against him. “I’m not exactly here for the exercise” you laugh, but there’s a hint of something guarded in your voice.

He catches the way your shoulders tense slightly, he doesn’t want to push you any further, he tilts his head, taking you in. But he just can’t help himself. “Can I just ask you one more thing?” His voice is softer now, somewhat sympathetic. He doesn’t wait for you to answer “if you get the job and make enough money, will you quit?”

You pause slightly, giving him a small shrug “that’s the plan, but I’m not sure how long it’ll take for me to make what I need”

“How much we talkin’?” His expression unreadable.

You shake your head inhaling another deep breath “too much to count” you decide to open up a little “I need five grand by the end of the month” you sigh saying the words out loud making it feel even more impossible to achieve it.

He doesn’t say anything, just runs a hand over his jaw, taking in everything you’ve said. The silence making your chest tighten again, so you decide to end the conversation before it gets even deeper.

“You’re all cleaned up” you say, brushing your hands off against each other as you turn towards the door.

His voice stopping you before you reach the handle “where you going?”

You look over your shoulder, “back out there, someone’s gotta be there to welcome them, pour drinks and all that” you laugh, confused as to where exactly he thought you would be going.

“What if I don’t want you to leave yet?” His voice dips lower, a look in his eyes as if his mission is about to succeed.

You turn towards him fully, raising your eyebrow just a little. “Then you’d have to do like the rest…and pay for my company” you smile cockily, your words teasing but clear.

He chuckles, clearly impressed by how easily you slip into the role of the confident woman who knows her worth. With a half smile he goes into his pocket, still not breaking the eye contact. He pulls out a thick roll of cash, tossing it onto the bed next to him with casual confidence. There’s no arrogance in the way that he does it, it’s more of a silent agreement, a sign that he’s more than willing to pay if it means spending more time with you. Your pulse quickens, then as if making a decision that could complicate things, you reach and turn the lock.

You take slow steps back towards him, letting your robe slip off your shoulders and pooling behind you, the motion looking effortless. Jax watches on, his tongue flicking over his lips as the anticipation darkens his gaze. Then, you kneel down once again. Undoing the laces of his airforces, slipping them off one by one.

Your fingers press into the arches of his feet, kneading out the tension that resides there. He exhales deeply, the sound rough and full of relief. “Damn” he mutters under his breath, leaning back onto his elbows as he watches you with his hungry eyes.

You smile in response, your eyes matching his. Working your thumbs over a tight spot before your hands start trailing upwards, slowly and deliberately. His breath hitches, as you reach for his belt buckle, undoing it with ease. You pull back for a moment, standing up straight and extending your hand to Jax with confidence, almost as if you were daring him to join you. He takes your hand in his. His fingers curling around yours as he stands. You kick off your heels, your height declining a little, as he looks down at you with his dominant presence.

You step closer, reaching for his kutte as you slide it off of his broad shoulders, placing it carefully on the back of the chair behind you. He watches you, not a word leaving his lips as you begin to take control of the situation.

A look of appreciation and desire in his eyes. Up until now, you have never allowed yourself to feel anything for any of the clients you’d been with, whether it was sexual or not. You’d kept them locked away. But with Jax, it's something you can’t ignore.

You slowly pull his crisp white tee over his head, revealing his muscular frame, slick with sweat from the events of today. Your fingers trace the ‘Abel’ tattoo on his chest, and he can feel the curiosity in the way you look at it. “my son” he says quietly, his voice carrying a tenderness you haven't heard from him yet. Your hands move lower, brushing over the rough scars left behind from the stabbings just below his ribs, the same thoughtful expression on your face. Without having to say a single word, he answers you. “prison” he mumbles, his voice almost sounding detached, as if its everyday you meet someone with the same scars.

You know nothing about Jax on a personal level, but of course you knew of SAMCRO with Lyla being your only real connection to the club, and that’s enough to keep you aware, but from a safe distance.

Over the past few nights, you’ve learned not to ask questions, not to pry into the lives of your clients but to just go with the flow. And right now, that’s exactly what you intend to do.

You catch your bottom lip between your teeth as you look at him, your hands picking up where they left off. Gripping the waistband of his jeans, you give them a firm tug. He kicks them off without any hesitation. With a slow and deliberate push, you guide him back until he’s bracing himself against the bed. Climbing on top of him, you move upwards, your hands trailing his thighs. You start by pressing messy, open mouthed kisses along his neck, feeling how his body reacts beneath you.

His breath fastens, his hands coming up to touch you in the middle of your back as your lips trail lower. Turning your attention to his boxers, you kiss him over the fabric, letting the tension build as his eyes lock onto you with raw desire. His hips shift beneath you, betraying his need for more. You slide his boxers down, revealing him full as he springs free from the cloth. Your approving eyes meet his, and the way you look at him has him swallowing hard.

Your eyes examine him with admiration, taking in every detail like his dick has been sculpted just for you. He stands thick and ready, his precum catching the light, shimmering under the soft glow from above. Every pulse and twitch letting you know just how ready he is. The moment your lips wrap around him, he sucks in a sharp breath, tensing beneath you. His hands move, not knowing where to place them fighting the urge to grab hold of you, to guide you deeper. You move your head with a slow and steady rhythm, taking your time before your lips finally meet the sensitive skin at his base. The feeling of his shaven pubes brushing against your upper lip. You take all of him whole and he cant hold back any longer. His fingers grip the back of your head, pulling you in closer, leaving you breathless as you struggle for air.

You grunt, as he releases the pressure, finally allowing you to breathe again. A trail of saliva drips from your mouth, falling back onto him. “Fuuuuck” he mutters, his body instinctively arching towards you. You let out a teasing laugh, a proud smile curling on your lips, pleased with yourself for taking him all in at once.

“Come here” he instructs, his voice low and seductive. Sitting up, he gently guides you closer. His fingers curling around your chin as he pulls you into him. His lips crash against yours, both urgent and demanding. He can taste himself lingering on your tongue. Each movement driving you wild, the sensation making your pussy salivate as it begins to drip for him.

Jax looks at you, his voice deep. “You got anything?” You point to the top drawer next to the bed in response. He moves quickly, opening it, his hands focused as he searches.

You watch him closely, your breath catching in your throat at he rolls it down with care, his every movement precise, the tension thickening with every passing second.

As soon as he finishes, he’s on you, grabbing you with a force that takes you by surprise. He lays you down on your back, his body pressing against yours. He can feel the wetness on his thigh as he uses it to guide your legs apart.

“you look so fuckable right now” he says, leaning back on his knees as he prepares to enter. He teases you gently, stroking his cock as he taps it against your wanting clit. Your jaw clenches with eagerness, “Fuck me then”. Jax did not need to be told twice.

He slowly enters you, as you let out an involuntary gasp at the sensation of fullness he’s causing. There's a lot of him to take in. “you good?” he laughs, checking in with you before he continues. When you nod, he increases his pace, his movements becoming more powerful.

You try to form words, to let Jax know he’s doing a good job, but you’re unable to form any, only short breathy pants and moans. Jax has a smug look on his face, enjoying the effect he’s having on you.

“You usually fuck your boss?” he asks, his voice authoritative as he continues to drive into you, his blonde hair grazing against your ear as he nestles his head into your neck.

You grab the back of his head, pulling it so that you make eye contact “Only if they seem worth it” you huff in response.

Jax cant help but laugh, even more turned on by your response. He quickly pulls out, only to turn you around guiding you onto your stomach, facedown. The audacity in your words fuelling his assertiveness. He grabs you by the waist, taking hold of you possessively, firmly forcing you to arch your back into a submissive position. “It’s like that is it? darlin’” his sudden aggression making you even wetter than you once were.

Your face is pressed into the pillow, but you manage to look slightly to the left, sneaking glances at him over your shoulder. His messy hair falls across his face as you watch his eyes roam your body, his expression dark.

He enters you again quickly, watching intensely as your ass crashes against his pelvic bone, sending waves through your skin. His hand reaches over pushing you down further into the pillow, the sound of your bodies meeting sounding like a round of applause.

Together, you move in perfect sync, your bodies working together to bring one another closer towards the edge. The room echoes with a mix of moans and gasps, each sound a testament to the intense pleasure you’re both currently experiencing.

Your hands reach back, spreading your cheeks giving Jax a newer sensation as he pounds in and out of you, he almost cant believe his eyes, how vulnerable you’re being for him. “Good girl” he groans, the slight difference in position making your walls tighten around him.

Jax, the man of many positions, now lies beneath you, the roles reversed. He can’t take his eyes off you. You’re the one in control once again. There’s a way about how he’s looking at you, taking in every moment unable to take his eyes off you. He’s lost in you, the way you look, the way you move, fucking beautiful - inside and out.

You hover above him, just out of reach, teasing him and keeping him wanting more. His hands grip at your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh, but you manage to stay in control. Loving the way his breath becomes rough with anticipation. Without warning, you take him in again, slamming down hard and deep.

Another moan leaving his mouth, his whole body tense again as the pleasure takes over. Your fingers glide over his body, as you ride the aftershocks surging through him.

Your hands are at his neck now, your body shielding his. He moves his hands, grabbing you by the ass with one and the other cradling your head in place, keeping you where he needs you, by his actions you can tell he’s used to being in control and taking what he wants.

He lifts his knees up gaining his own balance, his feet digging into the bed before moving his hips furiously underneath you, curving through your walls, each thrust forcing a gasp from your mouth.

“Ja- Jax…fuck…I’m gonna” you confess, unable to actually get the words out.

He smiles at your confession, his grip firm as he continues to hold you in place. Pressing desperate kisses onto your open mouth. “That’s…what I like… to hear” he mumbles, his words getting lost as you whimper into him.

His thrusts are getting slower, more sporadic. He’s close, and he can tell by the way your body trembles above him that you are too. His grip shifts once more. The hand placed on your ass, is now pushing firmly against your lower back, forcing him deeper. The pressuare sends you spiralling, you cry out as your body convulses around him, causing his cock to pump out cum.

He’s panting heavily along with you, his head buried onto your shoulder, his eyes wincing in pleasure. “y/n…fuc-” he pleads into your ear.

You don’t hear him of course you’re too busy wrapped up in your own climax. Your fists balling at the sheets beneath you, your head finding solace in the crevice of Jax’s shoulder. He releases the tension in his body as he throws his head back against the pillow, breathing hard with a satisfied smile on his face. He waits for you to come down and join him.

As the last waves of pleasure fade, you lift your head, meeting Jax’s eyes with a breathless laugh. Your bodies still tangled together, the heat dancing off the both of you.

With a slow movement, you slide off him, removing the condom carefully in the process. You tie it off and toss it into the nearby bin before crashing back down beside him.

Both your chests rise and fall in sync, the silence between you tessellating with satisfaction. Jax turns his head, a full smirk playing at his lips as he watches you, “Think I changed my mind” he admits, lazily resting his hands behind his head.

You raise your brow slightly, your breaths finally in regular rhythm again. “About what?”.

“Think you’re my first favorite” his smirk deepens, as he grabs his cigarettes off the side and lighting one up, the flame flickers, causing a slight glow against his face. You playfully smack his chest before retrieving your scattered clothing and getting them back on.

“Where you goin now?” He questions, a neediness in his voice, but you can tell he’s joking with it.

“What? Did you expect me to stay and cuddle” you respond tying the feathered robe back around your waist.

“Would have been nice” he chuckles, running a hand through his hair before standing up. The cigarette clinging to his lips as he exhales a stream of smoke, taking his time getting dressed as if he had nowhere else to be.

You watch him pull on his clothes, a small curve to your lips. Once he’s finished, you grab his kutte, stepping up behind him and sliding it over his shoulders, putting his pride back where it belonged.

“Thank you” he uttered, adjusting himself. He then spots the rolled up cash on the floor, the same stack he had tossed earlier.

With a lazy bend, he picks it up, handing it to you. Then, without a word, he reaches into his pocket and pulls another roll out, pressing it into your hand. His own hand lingering a little longer than it needed too.

The weight of the cash feels heavier, much more than it should as your fingers tighten around the stacks. A quick mental count tells you it’s close to four thousand, way more than you had expected. You look up at him, your eyes flickering with disbelief.

“Jax?… this is… a lot” you say, shocked but thankful.

Jax shrugs, feeling generous. “It’s a start..,handle what you need to” he says, like it’s nothing.

You stare at the money he had placed in your hand. Between this and what you’d already made this week, you now have enough to cover this months debt, something that less than an hour ago felt impossible.

Jax observes how you accept his help, with a slight tilt of his head he says “See you Monday night” throwing you a wink before you could even say thank you out loud, strolling out like he didn’t just change everything.

Nero glances up as Jax walks over, a knowing look in his eyes. “So… how’d your test run go?”

Jax can’t help but grin in response, flicking his cigarette into the ashtray upon the bar. “She’s got the job” he tells Nero confidently, no doubt about it.

Nero chuckles, a low sound of understanding as he pats Jax on the back “didn’t take you long to make up your mind, eh ese?”

Jax laughs, a low but genuine sound. “What can I say?” he says, throwing his hands up in a dramatic gesture, his shoulders lifting with the movement. “I’m a simple man” the familiar smirk spread across his face.

Photos & gifs are not mine - apart from the one with Jax's booty, had to go find the episode to make that one hehe.

Loved writing this, I know I say this every time lol. Also, sorry it took so long, I initially planned for this to be SO much shorter cause I feel like I may be writing too much? I just get carried away I cant help it lol.

To everyone who's sent a request, I'm not ignoring, I'm just working at them one by one, thank you for ALL! of them I'm excited to do them all, plus you all got some good ideas man I love it!

Jax Teller Masterlist

xoxo secretly samcro

[maddiebrj]

Guilt Weighs Upon Your Shoulders

COZETTE RAMBLINGS UNDER THE CUT:

I have not been able to get Cozette out of my head for well over a month now. I haven't hyper fixated this much on character in a good while. Cozette is just....so interesting to me for some reason.

I've always liked her as I found her bond with Connie to be really sweet, and she felt like this wise and caring woman. And yes, while I do understand that the twist of her being Zokket is predictable( I speculated to myself that she might have something to do with him), the thing I like about it isn't because of how surprising the reveal was, but rather the layer of depth that it adds to Cozette's character that I wasn't really expecting. And it's depth that I really wish got expended upon in the game. At first, I didn't think too much of it; we now know where Cozette was all this time. But then I saw how she acted after we freed her from Reclusa's control...and then after that, I started to think about her for more than 5 minutes and realized just how sad, confusing, and messed up Cozette's situation actually is.

I..I so wish we got to learn more about Cozette throughout the game because no matter how underutilized she is, I just can't help but feel bad for her. She got corrupted in organizing the destruction of the world she loves and is supposed to protect. Separating friends and families, kidnapping people and forcing them to work in factories, spreading glolm and further separating others. All to aid the rebirth of being that wants to destroy all worlds. And she just has to live with all of that. That definitely did something to her mentally.

I can't help but think of all that. And on top of all THAT, I just feel like this was a misoppurtunity for some good and interesting character interactions. I want to know what all the Concordians think of her besides Connie and Patriarc ( who is another character that I wish got explored more), I want to know how she views the Zok troops and those memos she wrote while in the Zokket persona, I WANT HER TO INTERACT WITH EXTENSION CORPS AT LEAST ONCE.

I want to know... what exactly made Cozette fall to Reclusa's grasp in the first place. Connie asks a good question to the Great Conductor: If Cozette really was controlled by someone else, why is she taking this so personally? And while I bet it has to do with what I listed earlier, the Great Conductor mentions that it has to do with her being taken advantage of a weakness she has and I'm sitting there thinking, "Oh okay, interesting...care to elaborate on that????." From there I tried to find something, ANYTHING on what that weakness might be and just...nothing. Those Grampy turnips that give some lore tidbits on some of the major characters? They say nothing about her. Her one sidequest involves her making a decision that you can't stop her from making and comes to regret. To this day, I am still trying to figure out what that weakness is. I do have some theories.

Overall, I have this feeling that Cozette isn't entirely happy and that her story in this game isn't complete. It feels like the writers introduced this interesting concept but weren't able to expand fully on it. I can only assume they didn't as they realized how complicated of a situation it is, and it would probably draw too much attention away from the main threat, which is Reclusa. Which, do not get it twisted, Reclusa. Is. AWESOME. But I am left with a bunch of questions.

Tldr: Cozette is very interesting. I wish her character got explored a lot more.

(Oh boy, sorry, this was so long. I wanted to talk about Cozette for a while. Please don't take this as me hating on the game. I just care so much about Cozette :))

[justlemmeadoreyou]

Serendipity*

Summary-Harry meets you at the most unexpected of places, and helps you like a knight in a wedding suit. It all starts at your best friend's wedding, where you find yourself in a predicament without an escort. As panic sets in, Harry appears, sent by the groom's brother to fill in as your last-minute companion. From that moment, a serendipitous connection begins to bloom between you both.

Words: 5k

Warnings: LOVE! SO MUCH LOVE AND SWEETNESS AND SOFTNESS IN THIS ONE! BUT ALSO-kissing, bathing together, p in v sex, a bit of cursing, loads of fluff.

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You stood in the bridal suite, your best friend Amelia bustling around in her stunning wedding gown. The room was a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, joy, and a hint of nervousness. It was her big day, and you couldn't have been happier for her.

Months of planning had led to this moment, and you had been Ame’s right-hand woman every step of the way. The dress, the flowers, the decorations—you had been there for it all. Today was the culmination of her dreams, and you were thrilled to witness her marry the love of her life.

As the time for the ceremony approached, you could feel your heart beating faster. You had the honor of being her maid of honor, and you couldn't wait to stand by her side as she walked down the aisle. But there was one small hiccup—the absence of your escort.

Panic set in as you looked around the room, realizing that you were missing the crucial piece of the bridal party puzzle. "Where's my escort?" you asked, your voice betraying the tension building inside you.

Ames looked at you with concern. "What do you mean? Did something happen to your partner? He was supposed to be here long ago–"

Your mind raced, trying to figure out a solution. The best man was missing. Great. Now, you were left without a partner, the groom was left without the best man, and the thought of walking down the aisle alone made your stomach churn.

You fiddled with your fingers, heart throbbing in your chest as your mind reeled. This was a disaster. So many people couldn’t make it–most of them were supposed to be there for backup if anything bad happened and now, along with them,–your escort was missing too. You were beginning to think if you were the bad luck here.

“I’ll see if someone else is willing, the guests are already out there and I’ll look like a moron but I will–” you rambled, sweat forming on your forehead. This was a bad habit of yours. Panicking so much that you wore yourself down, and if you didn’t breathe and relax, your makeup and hair would be ruined and–

Just as you were about to leave the room in a haste, the door knocked. You all looked at each other with curious gazes, oblivious to who it was.

“Who is that? All of us are here and maybe it’s your dad–” 

You stood by the door, taking a deep breath, preparing yourself to explain it all in case they ask what is taking so long.

But, as you opened the door, you opened it slightly, just in case it was the groom, Eddie.

To your surprise, it was someone else–someone you haven't met before. He was sharply dressed, suit and all, piercing green eyes looking straight into yours.

“I’m sorry-I don’t know you” you asked, and he smiled.

“I’m Harry. I’m a friend of Amelia’s brother. Your escort wasn’t here and Eddie was freaking out, so he sent me here”

You searched his eyes, and they were so calm, so soft. Your heartbeat began to steady, and you walked out of the door, closing it shut, even though it was time.

“You’re sure you won’t mind? Or you're not taken by someone else?”

He chuckled, a sound that you know you will be longing to hear once again. 

“No-I’m not taken by someone else. That’s why I came here. To help you in case you need it. What’s your good name?”

You were lost in the way his lips moved as he talked, completely phasing out and not listening to a word he said. God, he was so pretty.

“Hello?” he asked once again, completely aware of how your gaze was fixated on him. He couldn’t lie, he knew he looked irresistible. But the way you were ogling him in the time of crisis–it was something he hadn’t seen before.

“Hello” he said again, waving his hand over your face to obstruct your view, and that’s what broke your gaze. You blinked rapidly, mumbling “Sorry” before asking him what he said.

“What’s your name?”

“I’m Y/n. But–what about the best man?”

“I am the best man. It was supposed to be Archie, I know. But this wedding was a last minute plan and he’s drunk as hell right now in Vegas.”

“Oh God. I told them not to get married one week after the proposal. But who would listen to me? I’m just the maid of honor after all. I swear if anything, anything happens, I will–” You were stopped by him, as he said,  “Y/n. The wedding”

“Yeah. sorry”

You pulled the door back open, Ames coming out, and Harry fawned over how perfect she looked. He was like a brother to her, and you never met this gorgeous, gorgeous man till now. How?

Her father came soon, ready to walk her down the aisle.

You look at her one last time, her face glowing and so, so pretty. Her hair, the dress, the veil–it’s all so perfect.

“Let’s walk you down the aisle.”

>>>

As you made your way down the aisle, all eyes were on you and Harry. You couldn't help but feel a little self-conscious, but Harry's hand on your arm gave you the confidence to keep walking with your head held high.

You could see Amelia and her soon-to-be husband at the end of the aisle, both looking nervous and excited. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of them, knowing how much they loved each other. The priest stood behind them , ready to commence the wedding.

As you reached the altar, Harry stepped aside and you took your place next to Amelia. The ceremony began and you couldn't help but feel emotional as you watched your best friend exchange vows with the love of her life. The rings were exchanged, and kisses and promises were made. It was the perfect wedding that she had planned, and you were so glad you would make it happen for her in such short notice.

During the reception, Harry proved to be the perfect replacement for the missing best man. He made everyone laugh with his witty jokes and kept the party going with his dance moves. After the dance of the bride and groom, everyone was slow dancing–even your father and mother, and they looked so cute together.

You were sitting by one of the tables, sipping water and looking at them all.

Harry appeared beside you, letting you finish up your water, before looking down at you, offering you his hand, “Can I have a dance?” he asked.

You smiled, wiping some of the drops from your lips carefully, and nodding happily.

“I would love to dance with you, Harry”

You held his hand and got up, letting him lead you to the dance floor. Once you stood in front of each other, you instinctively placed your arm on his shoulder, his coming to rest on your waist. You both held each other’s hands then–intertwining your fingers, and they fit so perfectly.

As the music started to play, you could feel Harry’s body moving in sync with yours. He led you gracefully around the dance floor, his steps confident and smooth. 

You couldn’t help but admire his movements, the way he effortlessly glided across the floor.

“You’re a fantastic dancer, Y/N” Harry whispered in your ear, making you blush at the praise.

 “Thank you, but I think you’re the one making me look good,” you replied, teasingly. He chuckled, spinning you around before pulling you back into his arms. Your chests collided, and you looked up at him, getting lost in his piercing green eyes. 

“You know, I could get used to dancing with you like this” Harry said, his voice low and husky, his words meant for your ears only. You couldn’t resist the urge to press your body closer to his, feeling the heat radiating between the two of you. 

“I could too” you breathed out, feeling your heart flutter at the intense gaze he was giving you. The two of you continued to dance, your bodies moving fluidly together as if you were one. You could feel the music pulsing through your veins, heightening every touch and every movement. 

As the song came to an end, Harry pulled you into a gentle embrace, his hand caressing your back soothingly. 

“That was amazing, Y/N” he said, his voice full of admiration. 

“I couldn’t agree more, '' you replied, a smile spreading across your face, and a blush spread across your cheeks. 

As the night went on, you and Harry found ourselves lost in each other's company. You talked about everything and anything, laughing and sharing stories. You found yourself enjoying his company more and more as the night went on. He was charming, funny, and easy to talk to. You couldn't believe you had just met him today.

But as the night came to an end, it was time for the bride and groom to leave. You both rushed back to the reception, saying your goodbyes to them before they left.

But before, it was time for her to toss the bouquet.

Everyone cheered as she came into view, holding the bouquet as all the single girls gathered behind her, ready to catch it and be the next to marry. You didn’t have a boyfriend, but you wanted to be there for her.

"Alright, here goes nothing!" Amelia exclaimed, her voice filled with excitement.

As the bouquet soared through the air, you watched in amazement, hardly daring to believe her luck. In a surreal moment, the bouquet seemed to be heading directly towards you, almost as if guided by fate itself. Without even consciously trying, your hands instinctively reached out, and to your astonishment, you felt the soft petals and stems of the bouquet in your grasp.

Gasps of surprise echoed around the room as you stood there, stunned, clutching the bouquet tightly to your chest. You quickly glanced around, wide-eyed, as the other girls congratulated you with genuine smiles, though perhaps tinged with a hint of envy.

Amelia, the radiant bride, beamed at you, her eyes shining with joy. "Looks like someone's next in line for love!" she teased, her voice filled with excitement.

You couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of happiness and disbelief wash over you. "I-I can't believe it! And I don’t even have a boyfriend" you stammered, voice shaky and still in shock from the unexpected turn of events.

Soon, it was time for them to leave, and as Ames and Eddie said their goodbyes, kissing and laughing as they sat in the car, ready to leave.

You hugged her for one last time, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. Pulling back, he pulled her back, and they both got in the car, driving away.

It was all like a dream. A perfect dream that had come true.

You were happy, smiling as you watched their car disappear into the darkness, and it was after a while that you realized you had lost harry.

Panic started to set in as you searched every corner of the reception hall, but Harry was nowhere to be found. You asked around, but no one had seen him. Just as you were about to give up and accept that you had lost him, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

Turning around, you saw Harry standing there with a sheepish smile on his face. “Sorry, I got lost in the crowd, and then some girl came to talk to me, and I think she was trying to get my number, but I shrugged her off. I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you,” he said, his eyes full of sincerity.

Relief flooded through you as he pulled you into a tight hug. “I couldn't leave without saying goodbye to you either,” you replied, hugging him back just as tightly. It was instinct, and none of you cared that you had hugged.

Pulling back, you stared into each other’s eyes for a moment too long. You wanted to say something, wanted to ask him if he was taken, but you were scared.

He definitely was taken. A charming British man who looked so good, made you laugh and was so perfect.

So, you decided to shrug it off, the feeling of wanting to hold him once again, pulling at the strings of your heart. He was perfect, so perfect. And so dreamy.

“So–you shrugged off a girl?” you asked, trying to lighten the mood, and to dissipate the thick tension in the air between you two.

“Oh–yeah” he chuckled, one which you were maybe hearing for the last time.

“Yeah, so was being a bit touchy, and I was uncomfortable, so I told her. And–then she asked for my number, so-”

“So?”

“I said no”

“Because–you’re seeing someone? Because if you’re not, that was kinda stupid–I think. Weddings are real meet-cutes.” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

“No–uh, um, I’m not seeing someone, it’s just–I didn’t want her number. I–I wanted yours.”

The words hit you like a brick wall. You were not expecting him to say that. The girl who approached him was probably pretty, and definitely prettier than you. Then why did he say no to her, and yes to you?

“Me–cool cool cool cool cool” you stammered, and looked down, blushing and having no idea what to say next.

He sensed your dilemma, and held your hand in his.

“Y/n–please, look at me”

But you couldn’t bring yourself to. He was so pretty and so perfect and here he was, standing in front of you, asking for your number after rejecting someone else.

And you knew, if you looked up, you would definitely fall in love with him.

Harry waited for you to look up at him, and when you didn’t, he lifted his right hand, holding your chin softly and lifting your face up, making you look into his eyes.

And it was over for you. You fell for him.

“Y/n–I really like you. And what we shared today–the dance, the talks, the laughs–it was so perfect. You’re so perfect. And I didn’t talk to that girl or dance or laugh with her. I did all that with you. And–I think I’ve fallen for you”

Tears welled up in your eyes, and you choked out a laugh. It was so unexpected, but it felt like it was meant to be. His hand was in yours, and he was holding it with so much promise. And on your other hand, was the bouquet. A promise. 

“Y/n–will you go on a date with me?” he asked, and you nodded immediately, wiping a stray tear that had fallen on your cheeks. You immediately pulled him in for a hug, holding him close tightly, never wanting to let go.

>>>

Your first date was a week later.

Harry called you to his house, and he had texted you his address. He didn’t say what he had planned for tonight. He wanted it to be a surprise, and you knew it would be beautiful.

As you arrived at Harry's house, your heart fluttered with anticipation. You had no idea what he had planned for tonight, but you knew it would be something special, just like him. Stepping out of your car, you made your way to his front door, excitement bubbling inside you.

Harry greeted you with a warm smile, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he led you inside. "I'm so glad you're here," he said, taking your hand in his. "I've got something amazing planned for us tonight."

You couldn't help but smile back, feeling a rush of excitement coursing through your veins. "I can't wait to see what you've come up with," you replied, your heart pounding with anticipation.

After a quick drive, you arrived at a secluded spot far from the city lights, where the stars shone brightly overhead. The air was crisp and cool, and the sound of laughter and music filled the night.

"What is this place?" you asked, gazing around in wonder at the vibrant scene before you.

Harry grinned, his eyes dancing with excitement. "It's a lantern festival," he explained, looking so happy. "I thought it would be the perfect setting for our first date."

You felt a surge of delight at the sight of the colorful lanterns lighting up the night sky. "It's incredible," you exclaimed, taking in the festive atmosphere around you.

As you wandered through the festival, hand in hand with Harry, you felt a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. Everywhere you looked, couples and families were gathered together, laughing and enjoying each other's company.

"We should release a lantern," Harry suggested, his eyes shining with excitement. "But what should we write on it?"

You paused for a moment, pondering the question. And then, a smile spreads across your face as an idea forms in your mind. "How about our initials?" you suggested, squeezing Harry's hand gently.

He smiled back at you, his eyes soft with affection. "I love that idea," he replied, pulling you close for a hug.

Together, you made your way to the lantern station, where a kind elderly man handed you a lantern and a marker. 

“This is so beautiful, Harry. Thank you for this” you thanked him, as he, with trembling hands, wrote your initials on the surface of the lantern. He smiled at you, finishing it up, and taking your hand once again, ready to light it up and set it afloat.

You reached the top of the hill, heart pounding in your chest as you stopped. He held the lantern, and you carefully lit the matchstick, lighting the tiny wick under it on fire.

With Harry by your side, you watched as the lantern soared gracefully into the air, its soft glow illuminating the darkness around you.

After that, there was a second date. And then a third, after which, you both started dating.

It was at dinner at a restaurant, and he had specifically naked you to dress up for it. You knew he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend. But that didn’t help calm your nerves.

You had worn a red dress, one that you had bought a long time ago. It still fits you well, and you couldn’t wait for Harry to see you in this. 

As you stepped into the restaurant, your heart raced with anticipation. The soft glow of candlelight danced across the elegant dining room, casting a warm and intimate atmosphere.

Harry's eyes lit up as he saw you, dressed in the red dress you had carefully chosen for this occasion. "Wow," he breathed, his gaze lingering on you, for a moment too long. That was exactly what you had wished when you put it on.

 "You look absolutely stunning." he complimented, finally lifting his gaze from the dress and bringing it to your face.

A blush crept onto your cheeks as you took in his handsome appearance as well, dressed in a sharp suit that accentuated his strong features. "Thank you," you replied, smiling shyly. "You don't look too bad yourself."

As you settled into your seats, the air crackled with anticipation. Harry reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "I wanted tonight to be special," he began, his voice soft and earnest. "There's something I've been wanting to ask you."

Your heart skipped a beat as you met his gaze, sensing the gravity of his words. "What is it?" you asked, barely able to contain your excitement.

Harry took a deep breath, his eyes shining with emotion. "I've enjoyed every moment we've spent together, and ‘m really happy when I’m with you," he confessed. "Will you be my girlfriend?"

"Yes, Harry, yes!" you exclaimed, throwing your arms around him in a tight embrace.

He pulled you close, his lips finding yours in a tender kiss that sent sparks flying. The world fell away as you melted into each other, lost in the sweetness of the moment.

After dinner, you made your way back to Harry's place, the anticipation building with each step. As you entered his apartment, the air hummed with electricity, charged with the promise of what was to come.

You kissed each other, hands pulling at each other’s clothes and pulling them off. You reached the bedroom, laughing and giggling,and locking the door.

You stood in front of Harry, your hands running down his chest, you couldn't help but admire the muscles that rippled beneath his skin. His hands traced the curves of your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine. “You're so beautiful,” he whispered, his gaze filled with adoration.

You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, a shy smile forming on your lips. “And you're so handsome,” you replied, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him in for a passionate kiss.

His lips were soft and warm against yours, moving in perfect sync as your tongues danced together. You could feel the heat building between your bodies, the need for each other growing with each passing moment.

As you broke apart, gasping for air, Harry's hands moved down to your hips, pulling you closer to him. “I want you,” he whispered, his voice husky with desire.

You nodded, your own need for him evident in the way your body pressed against his. He led you to the bedroom, your hands never leaving each other's bodies. As you entered the room, the soft glow of candles greeted you, casting a warm light on the bed.

Harry gently pushed you down onto the soft sheets, his lips trailing down your neck as he peppered kisses along your skin. “You're so fucking perfect,” he murmured, his hands caressing every inch of your body.

You moaned at his touch, the sensations overwhelming you. His lips moved down to your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple before sucking it gently into his mouth. Your back arched off the bed, your fingers tangling in his hair as you let out a soft moan.

He moved lower, his lips leaving a trail of fire down your stomach. Your breath hitched as he reached your core, his tongue tracing circles around your clit. You let out a low moan, your hips moving in rhythm with his mouth.

“Harry,” you gasped, your fingers gripping the sheets as he continued to pleasure you. He looked up at you, his eyes filled with desire as he added a finger inside you, making you cry out in pleasure. His finger was moving so well, hitting all the right spots. 

You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your body trembling with need. “I'm going to come,” you moaned, your fingers tightening in his hair.

As you reached your peak, Harry's lips never leaving your body, you let out a cry of pleasure, your body shaking with ecstasy. He crawled back up to you, his lips capturing yours in a passionate kiss, his hand moving to pleasure you once again.

As he entered you, your bodies moved together in perfect harmony, the pleasure coursing through every inch of your being. Your moans filled the room, mixing with Harry's as your bodies moved as one.

“I love you,” he whispered against your lips, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his own climax.

“I love you too,” you replied, your voice filled with emotion as you reached your peak together, your bodies trembling with pleasure.

You lay in each other’s arms, breathing ragged, but bodies satisfied and contented. He pulled you close, kissing your forehead and cheeks, making you feel so pretty.

“We should clean up. Have a bath with me?” he asked after a moment or so, and you nodded. He pulled you close, but your legs were like jello, so he lifted you up like a koala, and carried you to the bathroom, making you sit on the toilet seat in case you wanted to pee, and went to get the shower ready.

You both cleaned each other. Blowing bubbles and suds, throwing water at each other, gigging, and so happy. 

You threw some water at him, and a bit of soap got in his eyes. You panicked, immediately running the tap again and helping him wash it.

“Oh fuck—I’m sorry, Harry–I dodn’t mean to, I was just playing, are you alright?”

He started giggling, throwing his arms at his chest and laughing at you like you were a clown.

“Ahhh” you yelled, throwing water at him again, and yelling at him for making you scared. He pulled you close once again, kissing your mouth as you lay in there for what felt like hours.

>>>

The next few months of your relationship were a blur, each moment with Harry feeling like a dream come true. You both were incredibly compatible, sharing laughter, adventures, and countless memories together. But just as your love was blossoming, a job opportunity arose for Harry – one that would take him to another state for a year.

At first, the news felt like a punch to the gut. The thought of being apart from Harry filled you with an overwhelming sense of sadness and uncertainty. But as you talked it over with him, you realized that this was an opportunity he couldn't pass up. It was a chance for him to advance in his career, to chase his dreams, and you couldn't be prouder of him.

So, you made a promise to each other – to make the most of the time you had left together, to cherish every moment, and to stay connected no matter the distance. As the days passed, you cherished each date, each kiss, and each shared laugh as if it were your last.

And when the day finally came for Harry to leave, it was bittersweet. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you held him tight, unwilling to let go. But as you looked into his eyes, you saw nothing but love and determination.

"I'll be back before you know it," he promised, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "And I'll call you every chance I get, I promise."

With a heavy heart, you watched him drive away, the distance between you growing with each passing mile. But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you stayed connected through phone calls, texts, and video chats.

And despite the distance, your love only grew stronger. You supported each other through the challenges, celebrated each other's successes, and counted down the days until you could be together again.

>>>

The days apart seemed to stretch on endlessly, each one filled with a longing that seemed to pierce through the very fabric of your being. You counted down the hours, the minutes, the seconds until you would once again be reunited with Harry, your heart aching with the absence of his presence.

But even in the midst of the pain, you held onto the memories of your time together, each one a beacon of light in the darkness of your separation. You replayed the moments you had shared in your mind, savoring the warmth of his touch, the sound of his laughter, the depth of his love.

And then, at long last, the day arrived. You stood at the airport, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the crowd for any sign of Harry. And then, there he was, striding towards you with that familiar smile that melted your heart.

You ran into his arms, tears of joy streaming down your face as you held him close, unable to believe that he was finally here, with you, where he belonged.

And then, in a moment that felt like something out of a fairytale, Harry got down on one knee, his eyes shining with love as he held out a small velvet box.

"Y/N," he said, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never want to spend another day apart from you. Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"

Your heart swelled with love as you nodded, tears of happiness blurring your vision. Harry slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit, just like the two of you.

And as you embraced, you knew that this was the moment you had been waiting for. This was the moment that made all the distance and all the struggles worth it. You were here, in each other's arms, and nothing else mattered.

"I promise to always love you," Harry whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "To support you, to stand by your side no matter what."

"I promise to make every day with you an adventure," he continued, his eyes locked on yours. "To cherish and adore you for all eternity."

And as he leaned in to kiss you, you knew that this was just the beginning of your magical love story. A story that had been tested by distance and time, but had only grown stronger because of it.

And as you held each other close, you couldn't help but smile, knowing that you had found your serendipity – a love that was unexpected, yet destined, a love that would guide you through every twist and turn of life's journey, forever and always. You never knew that you had found the love of your life at that wedding, the person who was your last-minute escort would be the one you would marry one day, and love and cherish forever.

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i love you all 💌tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)

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[duskier]

Invisible man but it's toxic Ghoap x reader ...

cw: this is literally just ghoap mentally torturing reader and there are mentions of them intending to kill the reader 🫶

Them having access to fictional sounding levels of military technology and getting two suits of their own that allow them to go completely invisible- suits designed to even erase their shadows via a complex system of reflections and lights.

Of course, you're the first thing to come to mind when they put them on. You were their favorite barista at a café close to base. You probably didn't remember them out of your sea of regulars, but they never stopped thinking about you, a mutual fixation on you blooming between them. They start out small, breaking and entering in the middle of the night. Unplugging your phone from the charger so you wake up without an alarm, the battery long dead. Turning off power to your fridge and leaving the doors open, the food spoiled by the time you wake up.

The best part of the suits is they get to stick around and watch your devastation. Scrambling out of bed with a panicked, half asleep noise, putting on the first set of work clothes you can find. Soap leaning against your fridge so he can get a full look at your face as it crumples at the sight, your vegetables wilted and your meat already smelling.

Ghost takes it a step further after nights of keeping you awake with strange knocks around the house or precious items crashing to the floor. Soap has to bite his lip to keep from giggling as they take turns whispering your name in the night. They wait a few minutes between while they watch you peer into the dark, breath shaking in your chest in fear. You look so adorable with your eyes wide and darting about, like a pretty little thing of prey in your thin tank top and comfy panties. Like you're just waiting to be eaten.

Ghost brushes by Soap, hands reaching out purposefully to give his hand a squeeze. A silent command to stay. Soap is left waiting with you, continuing to admire how vulnerable you look. All it does is leave his cock swelling in the pants, fantasizing about ways he could get you to make that pretty frightened face for him more directly. Soap couldn't wait to get his hands on you, make you feel real weakness under his grip. They weren't going to fuck with you forever, this was just them playing with their food. A sort of foreplay. He wonders if you'd cry, if you'd beg for your life. Or would you try and play along, in hopes they'd spare you? Would you try to fight back, could you maybe land a blow on him? Soap palms himself quietly, careful to not let your now focused hearing catch him in the act. He really hopes you can split his lip or something, leave a scar to remember you by.

The both of you startle as suddenly you hear Ghost bellowing your name from somewhere on the first floor. His voice is so loud, so angry, it barely sounds human and is left ringing in your ears for a full minute after. You're paralyzed with fear, hyperventilating now. Before you could snap out of it and reach for your phone, you screamed at the feeling of a hand gripping your ankle and yanking you to the foot of the bed.

There was nothing and no one there. Even in the limited light you could tell that you were alone. This must have been a break in your psyche, you reassured yourself, just because you haven't been sleeping well and things have been going wrong in the house. No matter how you reassure yourself, you still creep down the stairs to look around for any signs of intrusion.

Every step, you pause and listen around for something, anything. Maybe a bear broke into your house for food or a thief was rooting through your office for your safe box. Maybe it was something as small and harmless as mice knocking over furniture. Every second feels like an eternity, your heart racing in your throat.

"Hello? I know there's someone here. Just leave, and I won't call the cops."

Ghost sneers at you behind the suit. What a stupid thing for you to do and say. He considers jumping the gun, ruining the mystery by revealing himself and teaching you a lesson. Soap inadvertently stops him, setting off your security alarm.

The high pitched alarm rang out, making you wince and cover your ears. Your house phone starts ringing, you scramble to pick it up. Backing yourself up against your living room wall to stare wide eyed into the darkness.

"Knight Security. Please provide your security code." The voice on the line said. The man sounded calm, kind, certain. It somehow helped to make you focus, take a deep breath. Probably why the guy worked there.

"CL-NG-8675."

"Alright, got you. The alarms were tripped at your property. Everything alright?"

Was everything alright? Now talking to another living being, you weren't so sure. You tried to put everything you were experiencing into words but found you sounded incredibly silly... or one foot into a mental break.

"...Yeah, I'm alright."

"That's good. I'll get those sirens turned off for you and call off emergency services. Now, procedure does require me to have you walk through all possible entrances and exits in the home just to verify security. Would you mind checking the front door, love?"

Blissfully, the alarm turned off. The ear piercing sound finally gone, you let out a sigh of relief. The handsome voice on the phone asked you to check the front door, so you did. Confirmed it was locked and secure, just as you left it before bed.

He had you do the same with your garage door, the side door to the yard, and the back door.

"Perfect. You did a great job. Best customer of the night, if I may say," You could hear the smile in his voice.

"Why, thank you. You may," You quipped back, smiling to yourself in the darkness of the living room.

The man on the phone sounded like he was going to say goodbye, but he paused and made a small sound. "Oh! Before I let you go, I have one more question I have to add to the report."

"Of course, anything," You say, eager to please now that your heart had stopped racing.

"Are you alone in the home?"

Your response was immediate. "Yes."

The line went silent for a few beats. "...Are you sure?"

You could still hear the smile in his voice, but these words were spoken softly, dangerously.

"...What?"

"Turn around."

[mooshkat]

thinking abt bucktommy and cockwarming tonight

thinking maybe tommy has a close call at work and buck gets called about it and he's freaking out. and even after picking up tommy from the hospital and finding out it's just some scrapes and bruises, he can't get his brain to shut up about the what ifs.

what if it had been worse, what if tommy had never even made it to the hospital, what if that two mornings ago was the last time he would have seen him?

it circles around and around in his head and he's jittery the whole drive home and even when he's got tommy (gently) shoved onto the couch so he can mother-hen him. buck's hands won't stop shaking, haven't stopped shaking since he got the phone call from lucy and he feels ridiculous for it. tommy tries to grab him a few times as he paces around grabbing things to make him confortable, but buck keeps dodging his hands.

tommy is okay. he's here at home and alive and warm under buck's touch when tommy finally manages to snatch his wrist and pull buck into his lap.

and tommy will ask, "what do you need, baby?" because this is a first, one of them getting the phone call, and he doesn't know yet exactly what buck needs.

and buck will slip off of tommy's lap to kneel on the floor and wrap his hands around his hips, slipping under his shirt to touch bare skin. and he tells tommy, "i need to stop thinking."

they've done this before, more than once even, but never for something like this. before, it's only been because tommy knows his boyfriend has a massive oral fixation.

now, buck needs that closeness to tommy, needs to wrap his mouth around his soft cock and press close enough that all he can smell, taste, breathe is tommy.

and if it'll help him, tommy will sit there for as long as buck needs while petting his hair.

[megxplryxb]

For you, I would ruin myself

Pairings: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader, mentions of Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Allusions to cheating but not really, Mutual pining, Idiots in love, Love confessions, Angst, Heartbreak

Author's notes: Hi lovely people, I'm really sorry I haven't been around lately. Well, who am I kidding, I've been pretty MIA since March. The writers block was kicking my ass and the motivation just wasn't there but I've had so many ideas lately and this one was unfinished in my drafts for way too long so finally got around to completing it over the past few days. I'm not in love with the ending, but I do like that it's not the usual happy ending I always do. Please be kind, I'm a little rusty. x

Another Friday evening, another failed date, Steve thought to himself as he climbed into his BMW with a deflated sigh, leaning back against the headrest. He’d been on three dates in the past month and it was starting to feel a little mundane and pointless. Three different candidates, three different bouquets of flowers, three different venues but none of them had developed into anything further. He was completely used to the routine by now, picking them up from their house, paying for the meal or for the movie, making some awkward conversation before sharing a kiss that made him feel absolutely nothing inside. He’d tell the girl he was sorry, that he didn't see it going anywhere between them before offering her a ride home or pay for a cab and head back to his house alone.

It's not that the girls weren't pretty, or that their personalities were dull or that they’d done anything wrong necessarily. The issue was Steve and his lack of real interest in getting to know any of them romantically, 'cause there was someone else consuming his thoughts and he couldn't get her out of his fucking mind. He pressed his forehead to the steering wheel, cursing at himself for being so off of his game, for being so distracted by someone he knew he couldn't have. Steve used to be a pro at dating, he could get any girl he wanted, whenever he wanted just by clicking his damn fingers. But he wasn't that guy anymore and this time he couldn't get the girl either. The girl he really fucking wanted. Frustrated, he pulled out of the parking lot, turning up the radio before leaving Enzo's and another unsuccessful date in the rear view mirror.

He picked up a case of beer from the liquor store and contemplated going home to drown his sorrows alone. He thought about going to Robin's too but knew she'd chew him out for screwing up yet another date that she had to convince him to go on in the first place. He wasn't even sure his best friend would want to see him after their stupid argument in Family Video earlier, so he decided against the idea and kept on driving.

"Steve, you have to move on from this fixation you have with her. You and her are never gonna happen, it can't happen, you know that right?"

"Yeah I know Robin, alright? Jesus Christ, can you please stop talking about it?”

"Look, I'm sorry ok? I know I'm being a total pain in the ass but I'm just worried about you. I know how you get when you fall for someone and I don't want to see you get hurt or mess up a really good friendship because of–"

"I get it Robin, fuck, I'm trying to get over it, over her, I really am. I've distanced myself as much as I can without making it totally obvious that something’s up. What else do you want me to do, huh?"

"I don't know, Steve! I'm just trying to help. I'm trying to be your friend and make you see that this doesn't have a happy ending for you.”

“You don’t think I know how this ends for me? How it always ends? I’m well aware of how this goes Robin, so please just…don’t, ok?”

Steve felt horrible for fighting with Robin. He felt like shit for taking his frustrations out on her but she just wouldn't stop talking about the situation and the consequences he would face if he ever acted on his feelings. He already felt bad enough about it, he didn’t need her reminding him every five god damn minutes that he couldn’t have the thing he wanted the most. Of course, he'd apologise to her tomorrow with ice cream and chocolate along with the promise of being her personal chauffeur for the next month straight because deep down he knew she was right.

After a while of driving around, Steve found himself at the entrance of Forrest Hills trailer park. His fingers dancing on the steering wheel as he bit his lip, thinking about whether or not he should just keep going. Eddie had been on his ass lately about never seeing him, wondering if he'd done or said something to piss Steve off, trying to arrange a boys night so they could catch up but Steve kept putting him off until the metal head eventually quit asking. Christ, Munson wouldn’t want to hang out with him ever again if he knew the reason why Steve was avoiding him in the first place. But Robin was right, he had to get over it and cutting himself off from everyone wasn’t going to help anything.

"Fuck it." Steve muttered, as he drove through the gates and made his way into the trailer park, hoping he wouldn’t regret his decision later on, praying it wasn’t a total mistake coming here.

The gravel crunched under his tyres as the car came to a halt outside of Eddie's trailer just as the sun had finally set on the little town of Hawkins, Indiana. Switching off his ignition, he grabbed the case of beer before stepping out of the car, walking around to the back of the trailer but quickly noticing that neither Waynes car or Eddie’s van were anywhere to be found. He could however, see a flicker of light escaping through the curtains and hear the chorus of Shout by Tears for Fears coming from inside, causing his heart to beat a little faster, skin feeling a little hotter, cause he knew who was inside and he needed to get out of there immediately.

"Shit." Steve whispered, hurrying back to his car, placing the box of beer onto the passenger seat hoping his presence hadn't been noticed by the one person he had been trying so desperately hard to stay away from all this time. But the creak of the trailer door opening behind him told him he was already too late as he turned around to see you standing there, arms folded, head tilted, smiling at him.

"Hey stranger, long time no see."

Steve swallowed hard, instantly feeling more butterflies in his stomach just from seeing you for the first time in weeks than he had from any of his dates in the past month. He didn’t know how it was possible but he was certain you’d gotten even prettier in his absence. Your usual flowy hair clipped back into a messy bun, sun kissed legs on show in your tiny denim shorts, finished off by an oversized Metallica T-shirt that most definitely belonged to your boyfriend...To Eddie, one of Steve's best friend’s. The one and only reason he could never tell you how he really felt.

“Yeah, I guess it’s been a while, huh?” He chuckled nervously as you made your way down the steps, towards his car.

“A while? It’s been forever. I think I was even starting to miss you.” You tease, wrapping your arms around him, pulling him into the warmest of hugs. His whole body tenses with the feeling of you so close to him and he swore his heart stopped for a moment as he took in your scent. You were ice cream on hot summer days, cocoa on cold winter nights and everything he knew he could ever want or need.

It wasn’t unlike you to hug him, you’d always been affectionate and touchy but it felt different this time, like you needed it as much as he did. So he finally relaxed his body, allowing his arms to find their way around your waist, chin resting on your head, keeping you close for what felt like several minutes.

“Yeah, I missed you too.” So much, he thinks to himself as you eventually break apart.

“So, beer huh? I take it you were looking for Eddie?” You ask, noticing the box in Steve’s BMW.

“Uh, yeah…he’s been asking me to come hang out for a couple of weeks but I’ve just been super busy with work and stuff. Finally had some free time, so I thought I’d take him up on the offer before he completely disowned me.” Steve jokes as you let out a small laugh.

“Poor guys been like a lost puppy without you. Honestly, its getting embarrassing. I’m clearly not enough for him.” You sigh sarcastically as Steve shakes his head.

“I highly doubt that honey.” He replies truthfully, voice in the back of his mind screaming that you’d be enough for him. That you’ve always been enough for him.

You look away from him, placing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, hoping he hasn't caught the slight tint of pink creeping onto your cheeks with his tiny compliment.

“Well, I'm sorry to disappoint you but he’s playing with the band at the Hideout tonight.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip.

“That’s cool, I totally should have checked first anyway. I’ll catch him another time.” Steve replies, playing with his car keys.

“Y’know, Eddie’s not the only one who likes beer or do you just not want to hang out with me?” You smile, raising a brow and god he knows he’s in trouble. He knows he should shake his head, make up some excuse and run for the hills but he can’t. Not when you’re looking at him like that, like you want him to stay and fuck he really wants to.

“Of course I want to hang out with you, I just don’t want to be imposing.” He explains as you scoff.

“Imposing? Please, I could really do with a break, I’ve been cleaning this place all day for Wayne before he gets back into town tomorrow. Eddie’s a total pig, I swear he’s lucky he’s cute.” You laugh but Steve doesn’t really laugh with you. He hates that you think Eddie is cute, hates the way you say his name. Hates that he has no right to feel so jealous but he can’t help it. Because it was Steve’s own fucking fault for not telling you how he felt months ago, when he had a real chance to make you his before Eddie went and beat him to it.

“So, are you coming in or?” You ask, eyes wide as you start walking back towards the trailer.

This was Steve’s chance to run, to get into his car and go home like he’d originally planned to do. Why hadn’t he just done that in the first place? Why did he think coming to Eddie’s was such a good idea and how the fuck had he ended up alone with you? Robin would fucking kill him if she could see him now. This wasn’t what was supposed to happen. You weren’t supposed to be here. You should have been working in the Hideout like you did every Friday night since you left Family Video and him behind all those months ago.

“Steve?” You call again when you don’t hear his footsteps following you.

“Huh? Oh, yeah sorry, I’ll just grab the beers.” He finally answers, smiling at you as you nod happily, heading back inside.

Steve curses at himself, knowing he couldn’t leave now, it’d be too obvious. You were his friend just as much as Eddie, the only problem was, he didn’t want Eddie like he wanted you.

When he finally joined you inside, you were rummaging through a drawer to find a bottle opener that Wayne kept in there for safe keeping. Steve tries to look anywhere but at you as his body stood stiff in the doorway while you made your way towards the couch, plonking your tired body down. He could tell you’d been cleaning all day, the trailer unrecognisable from the usual mess Eddie had it in. Fresh hoover lines apparent on the spotless carpet, laundry washed and folded, pillows puffed, trash emptied and the countertops cleared and wiped down. There was even a scent of lavender in the air, compared to the usual smell of motor oil and cigarettes.

“You can sit down you know?” You smirk as Steve smiles, shaking his head.

"Sorry, I was just momentarily distracted by the fact that I could actually see the floor in here for once.” He jokes, placing the alcohol on the side table as you giggle, feeling him slump down beside you, letting out a heavy breath.

“Hi.” Steve smiles, turning his head towards you, resting his eyes on your porcelain face. It’s unfair how good you look right now, so effortlessly beautiful with your hair up and no make up on. Christ, you could be on the cover of any magazine, he thinks to himself.

“Hi.” You smile back, nudging your knee with his playfully and Steve’s thankful you can’t hear how fast his heart is beating just from the slightest bit of contact.

“Beer?” He offers, ripping open the box to grab two bottles.

“Thought you’d never ask, Harrington.” You tease, taking one from his hand, passing him the bottle opener.

“Cheers.” He grins nervously, clinking his drink with yours before he takes a large swig.

Forty minutes pass and you're both already on your second drink, catching up and talking as if no time at all had gone by. It had always been that way between you both, effortless and easy and Steve knew it was dangerous territory. He so quickly forgot all of the reasons why he shouldn't be here with you right now when your leg was brushing against his own, your head thrown back in a fit of laughter as he recalled an embarrassing story about Keith from the previous week and Christ, he had missed your infectious laugh.

He had missed everything about you.

He couldn't remember the last time you two had been alone together, it had to have been a couple of months at least and it felt nice that he had you all to himself for a little while without any distractions. Some of his favourite times had been your shifts together at Family Video, making each other laugh non stop, discussing the latest gossip of the town while stacking the shelves, taste testing the new candy when Keith left early like he always did and making up little games to play on nights where the hours just seemed to drag. You brightened up the store every time you walked in, made work fun and bearable and he looked forward to any shift that he got to spend with you.

That was until you went and left of course.

Steve had been utterly devastated the day Robin told him you'd given your two weeks to Keith, confused as to why you hadn't told him yourself and a little hurt that he was the last to know. He remembers Eddie coming to pick you up on your last day, a shit eating grin on his face now that you were going to work at the Hideout, meaning he'd get to see his new girlfriend way more while Steve got to see you much less. He had to clench his fists as he watched you walk out the door with Eddie, forcing a smile as you looked over your shoulder, giving him one last look before waving goodbye with tears in your eyes. He wanted so badly for you to change your mind, wanted to beg you to reconsider but Robin reminded him that it was for the best, hoping it would give Steve the time he needed to get over you.

“Y’know I was really starting to worry about you, was even thinking about setting up a search party.” You giggle, taking Steve away from him thoughts as he rolls his eyes playfully.

“I’m flattered you were so concerned about me.”

“I’m serious! I kept asking Dustin about you but he said he hadn’t seen you much either.”

“Well if you hadn’t left Family Video to go work with your boyfriend, you’d still see me everyday.” Steve responds in a tone that’s half teasing/half bitter and he winces seeing how taken aback you are by his comment

“Eddie’s not the reason I left, Steve.” You reply, pressing the bottle to your lips. If only he knew the real reason.

“Oh come on, why else would you leave? I can’t imagine it was for the scenic views or massive wage increase.” He scoffs sarcastically as you avoid his gaze.

“It was just time for me to move on.” You shrug, tugging on your bottom lip, wishing he would drop this topic.

“What do you mean? I thought you liked working at the Video store?” He quizzes, confused by your answer.

“I did, I loved it there but I just needed a change.”

“But that doesn’t make any—”

“Steve, can we please drop it?” You beg, your lips turning downward in a frown as you fidget with the hem of your boyfriends t-shirt.

“Yeah—yeah sure, sorry. I didn’t mean to be an asshole about it, it’s just that…I miss you. I mean, we miss you, Robin and I.” He swallows hard as you smile at him, your cheeks turning hot at his words.

“I miss you too, Steve. Both of you.” You reveal before a silence falls over the room for a moment.

"Are you hungry? You wanna order a pizza or I’m pretty sure there’s potato chips in the cupboard if you want some? You ask, finally easing the tension between you.

"I'm good. I had dinner in Enzo's a while ago.” Steve mumbles.

"Ah, I thought you were a little too dressed up just to come here and get drunk with Eddie. Were you on a date or something?" You question, raising your brows suspiciously at him, trying to ignore the knot forming in your stomach.

"Third one this month." He sighs, taking another sip of beer, completely missing the subtle hint of jealousy that flashes across your face momentarily.

"Wow, three dates huh? You must really like her." You force a smile, taking a drink from your own bottle as he huffs and shakes his head.

"Oh, it wasn't with the same girl. I meant three different dates, all equally terrible though." Steve confesses, a heavy sigh escaping his lips and you hate the relief you feel when you hear him say it.

"You really have been busy, no wonder we haven’t seen you lately." You say sarcastically as Steve remains silent, trying to hold himself back from saying everything he wanted to. He wants to tell you the reason you haven’t seen him is because he’s terrified of his feelings for you. That the reason he's going on so many dates is so he can try and move on from you. He wants to tell you that he’s terrified of ruining his friendships because he can’t stop thinking about you, that he can't stand seeing you with Eddie, because every time he sees his friend kiss you, he wants to punch his lights out, ‘cause you're supposed to be his girl. But he's too fucking late. He missed his chance with you and it's something he's going to have to live with for the rest of his life.

“So, what was so terrible about them?" You ask, turning to face him as he sits back trying to think of how best to answer that question. The only real answer he has to give is that they weren't you and nothing after that really mattered. He plays with the paper wrapped around his bottle, tearing it off bit by bit as you burn a hole through his head, waiting for a response. He's too afraid to look at you, terrified that if he does, it'll give him away and you'll figure it out for yourself, that he's completely and utterly head over heels in love with you.

"I uh, I guess none of them were really for me." He shrugs, keeping his eyes on the carpet below as you gaze at your friend sympathetically, knowing that feeling all too well.

"I'm sure you'll know the one when she comes along, Steve." You reassure, placing your hand on his knee as he lets out a dry laugh.

"I did." He mutters, taking the last sip from the bottle as you stare at him.

"What do you mean you did?" You question, tilting your head as his eyes widen in panic. Shit. He didn't mean for you to hear that, didn't mean to say it out loud. Had the two beers already gone to his fucking head?

"I– I just meant..." He pauses for a moment to look at you, really look at you as he thinks about what to say next. How does he get himself out of this? Should he just tell you the truth? Was now the right time to say it? Was being here alone with you a sign that he should just come out and tell you how he feels? Was it worth taking that risk?

"You're talking about Nancy, right?" You frown, releasing a heavy sigh as he contemplates how to respond. His stomach is sick that you think he still cares for Nancy in that way, he hasn't given her a second thought since you came along and took his breath away but maybe it was better for you to think that instead of him ruining his friendship with you, instead of ruining his friendship with Eddie. Because after all, he'd rather have you in his life as a friend than not have you in it at all. That would truly kill him.

"Yeah, I...I'm talking about Nancy." He lies and your heart sinks all over again.

Of course he's talking about Nancy. Robin had told you all about the girl Steve had been in love with for years during your first shift alone with her at Family Video. How she was the only girl he'd ever loved, how he'd changed his ways for her in High School and how he still wanted a whole brood of mini Harrington's with her even though she’d broken his heart. When you eventually did meet Nancy though, you fully understood what he saw in her. She was beautiful, smart and perfect, everything a guy like Steve Harrington could ever want.

Everything you felt you weren’t.

“Steve, if it’s Nancy you really want, maybe it’s time to just be honest with her?” You suggest, trying to stop yourself from falling to pieces in front of him.

Steve finally lifts his head to lock eyes with yours, your words starting to replay in his mind “maybe it’s time to just be honest with her.”

“How can I tell her how I feel when she’s with somebody else?” He asks, his stomach in knots, his insides twisting as he watches you chew on your bottom lip.

“That doesn’t mean she doesn’t feel the same way about you, maybe she’s just really good at hiding it.” You shrug defeated, as he tries to read your face for an answer to a question that’s kept him up late at night. Could it be possible that you have feelings for him too? That you’ve been just as good at hiding them as he has? Maybe even better?

“You…you think she could feel the same way about me?” He asks, finally sitting up, turning towards you fully.

“I guess there’s really only one way to find out.” You reply, forcing a smile, hoping you don’t look too devastated as you stand up to collect the empty bottles from the coffee table. Needing to remove yourself from this conversation fast.

Just as you reach out to grab the first one, you feel Steve’s warm hand softly wrap around yours, holding you in place as he stares at you petrified.

“Steve, what—”

“It’s not Nancy.” He interrupts, a total look of despair on his face as he takes a deep breath. You’re eyeing him in utter confusion as you take a seat beside him again.

“What do you mean it’s not Nancy? I don’t under—”

“I’m in love with you.” He finally confesses, the words falling from his mouth too fast for him to catch, to hold back and bury deep beneath the surface again and for the first time in months he feels like he can finally breathe again. Unfortunately for Steve, the relief only lasts a couple of seconds as panic sets in and he realises that he's just confessed to loving his best friend's girlfriend.

He’s too afraid to look at your face, terrified of what your reaction will be, so instead, he keeps his eyes glued to the floor, ashamed of himself for putting you in this predicament. He's completely fucked everything up.

“I'm sorry, please don't hate me. The last thing I intended to do tonight was tell you that I love you. Fuck, I didn't even think you'd be here, you weren't supposed to be here! I've just been trying to stay away from you hoping that these stupid feelings would just go away you know? But it's been so hard and I missed you and then I show up here looking for Eddie but then I see you after so long and I just couldn't keep it in any longer, it's been killing me for months." Steve rambles, placing his hands over his face as you sit frozen in silence.

"I think it's probably for the best if I go." He says, standing up to leave you alone, grabbing his keys from the countertop.

"So you just drop a bomb on me like that and think you just get to walk away?" You say, finally finding your voice, rising to your feet.

"I just thought maybe you'd want some space or maybe you'd never want to see me again." Steve shrugs. noticing the utter shock on your face.

"We live in Hawkins Steve, we have the same friends. I don't think never seeing each other again is a realistic option." You state, trying to take everything in. Steve lets out a sigh of relief, happy you haven't immediately jumped to cutting him out of your life yet.

"You said it's been killing you for months, how long is that exactly?" You question, suddenly finding it very hard to breathe. It's an easy answer for Steve as he knows the very moment he fell in love with you.

“Do you remember the day that really nice old man came into the store looking for a copy of Casablanca?" He asks as you nod your head, recalling it instantly. It's something you'd never forget.

The man had come in on an unusually rainy day in the hopes of renting the movie he and his wife had watched together every year on the day of their wedding anniversary. He told you both of his wife's recent passing after a lengthy battle with an illness and how he had decided to bury their copy of the movie with her, so she could still watch it with him wherever she was.

"You took him for coffee on your lunch break that day knowing he was all alone while I looked for the movie in the back. You let him cry and talk about his wife even though you didn't know her. You gave him the time of day that no one else would have and when I found the movie, you told him to keep it and you took a twenty from your own purse to cover the cost. You told him you hoped one day you'd know a love like theirs and I remember thinking... fuck I'm so in love with that girl." Steve smiles, eyes glassy as you too have to wipe away the tears that had fallen down your cheeks.

"He still comes in you know? Asks about you all the time, wonders if I ever made a move. Called me a dumbass when I told him I missed my chance." He jokes, trying to make you smile but somehow the whole thing makes you angry.

"If you felt that way about me then, why didn't you tell me? That was months before I was even with Eddie, Steve!" You challenge, folding your arms as Steve runs a hand through his hair.

"I don't know, the timing just never seemed to be right."

"Oh please, we only worked together almost every day for over a year, we hung out almost every single night." You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

"Well yeah but we were never really alone together. There was always someone else around, Keith, Robin, the kids, Eddie..."

"Come on Steve, those are bullshit excuses and you know it!" You argue as he shakes his head.

"It's not like it matters anyway, I mean, it's not like you felt the same way or anything!" He fights back as you stand silent, hand over your mouth, eyes on the floor.

That's when the penny finally drops for Steve.

"Shit, you did feel the same didn't you? You had feelings for me?" He questions softly as you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding a yes. He's been so blind, so stupid. How didn't he see this? How did you hide it so well?

"It's hardly that shocking, is it? I mean you're Steve Harrington, girls have been falling in love with you your whole life." You joke as Steve remains silent. "I didn't want to like you. Christ, when I started working at Family Video I expected to hate you but you weren't what I thought you'd be. You were funny and kind and caring and god, I saw how those kids worshipped you. It was only a matter of time really." You admitted. " There were times that I thought, 'maybe he likes me too' you know? But then Robin told me all about Nancy, how much you loved her, how you'd changed for her and I thought it was game over for me. She was just so perfect, I mean, how could I ever compete with someone like her?"

"There would never have been a contest, it would have been you every single time." Steve whispers, wanting to reach out for you.

"That's why you left Family Video isn't it? Cause you thought I still loved Nancy?" He asks as you nod again.

"I had to try to get over you."

"Did it work?"

"It doesn't matter Steve." You brush off the question, trying to walk away but he catches your hand gently.

"It matters to me."

"I'm with Eddie now. How I feel about you isn't going to change that." You state as Steve heavily accepts your words, however crushing they might be. He would always respect your decision, caring too much about you and Eddie to deliberately ruin your relationship.

"But if you weren't, and I had asked you out back then, would we be together now?" He asks, wiping the tears from your face. You already know the answer in your heart and you know Steve does too.

"Yeah, I think we would be. I know we would be." You assert as a single tear falls down his cheek. "But I can't do that to Eddie, I can't leave him."

"And I would never ask you to, honey. Fuck, I really messed this up." He sniffs as you shake your head. "We both did, Steve." You cry as he holds you close for several minutes.

"I better get going, I'm sure Munson will be home soon." He sighs, reluctantly letting you go, wishing he could keep you in his arms forever. He once again grabs his keys and heads for the front door as you follow close behind.

"Steve?"

"Hmm?"

"I do by the way, I do still love–" He cuts you off, pressing his lips lightly to yours for a brief moment before pulling away when he feels you kiss back, knowing if he'd waited a second longer, Eddie would arrive home to his best friend making love to his girlfriend.

"Please don't say it." Steve begs closing his eyes. "I'm trying to do the right thing here and walk away, if I hear you say that, I don't think I'll be able to leave without you." He whispers as you cup his face.

"Then you better go now because if you kiss me again, I don't think i'll have the strength to stop myself from going with you." You cry as he nods, exiting the trailer, walking back to his car, giving you one last look as he opens the BMW door. He smiles at you through glassy eyes, both of your hearts breaking as you wonder what could have been. Where does your friendship go from here? How are you supposed to forget about this night? How do you pretend that you aren't utterly and completely in love with each other?

"Goodnight honey."

"Goodnight Steve."