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sluttywoozi · 11 days

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Interlude No. 9 | yjh x reader

Interlude No. 9: Jeonghan broke up with you three months ago, so why is he at your door now?

Rating: sfw (minors still shouldn’t be here) | WC: ~3.3k

Pairing: yjh x reader | Genre: angst, hurt/comfort, a lil romance

Warnings: alcohol mention, swearing, breaking up and making up

Reader Notes: drinks wine, owns a blow dryer

You’re halfway into your second glass of wine and fully done with your skincare when a knock sounds on your apartment door.

It sounds familiar for some reason, and though you normally would never entertain the thought of accepting an unexpected caller after 9 PM, your gut is telling you to answer. So onto the side table your glass goes before you stand on tired legs and slowly make your way to the hall. You should grab the bat but that gut feeling is still there, the one that says you have nothing to worry about, so you pass the closet you keep it in and continue on to the door.

Closing one eye, you sweep aside the cover and look through the peephole, gasping at what, or rather, who, you find.

Yoon Jeonghan.

The man you dated for two years, the man who broke up with you three months ago without an explanation.

The man you still love.

You can’t see much, but you can see that he looks awful. His hair is long and sloppily tied back, his glasses are low on his nose, and his eyes are red, glassy. He gnaws at his lip as he waits, his posture growing worse with every minute that ticks by until he’s all but wilted onto the floor.

You don’t know what to do.

You blocked his contact after he left you, swore you wouldn’t speak to him again no matter how many friends you have in common, but here he is at your door, looking, for all intents and purposes, dead inside.

You can’t see him anymore but he didn’t walk away, which means he must have finally sat down in the hall. You’re just glad he’s not making noise, your neighbors have always been nosy and you hate the idea of them knowing about this.

He doesn’t seem like he’s going anywhere anytime soon, so all you can do is unlock your three locks and open the door a crack, just enough to spot him.

His gaze shoots up immediately and he rushes to stand, his limbs clumsy as he picks himself up off the floor.

“Hi,” he breathes, brushing his clothes off and fidgeting with the hem of his shirt.

You ignore the way your stomach drops at his voice, ignore the way it feels like a balm to your frayed nerves, and ask quietly, “What are you doing here?”

He glances away and pushes up his glasses, swiping a hand over his eyes and down his face before saying, “I wanted to talk to you, about us.”

You bristle, unhealed hurt rising up within you at his words.

“Now you want to talk? You didn’t seem to have anything to say three months ago when you left,” you remind him harshly, pretending your heart doesn’t ache at the way he flinches and tries to hide it.

“I- I fucked up, I fucked everything up, I know that. But I’ve been trying to talk to you this whole time, ever since I walked out. Please, just listen to me this once, and I promise, if you never want to hear from me again, I’ll leave you alone.”

He sounds distraught, as close to tears as you’ve ever heard him, and you know you shouldn’t, you know you shouldn’t, but you do it anyway.

You open the door and step to the side, ignoring his deep sigh of relief and pushing down the shock when you smell the cologne you bought him last year as he walks past you.

You didn’t live together but he knows where to go, making his way to your living room and settling into his corner of the couch. Maybe you should offer him something to drink, but you don’t feel like playing host right now, not when the wound you thought had scarred over has started bleeding again.

Bypassing your spot on the sofa, you sink into the chair farthest away from him, tugging a blanket over your lap as if it could protect you somehow.

He stares at you, his gaze a deep pool of sorrow and guilt and his fingers fidgeting in his lap.

“Well?” You prompt him when he doesn’t speak, almost wishing you had the forethought to grab your glass of wine. You could use it at a time like this.

“I- I guess I should start off by saying I love you and I’m in love with you and I never stopped being in love with you,” he says it like it’s a vow, like he fears you won’t believe him.

You say nothing, swallowing around the pit of anguish in your throat.

“When I left, it was because of me, not because of anything you did. You’re perfect, you always have been. I just- I couldn’t give you what you deserved. I saw how happy you were when Joshua proposed to his partner, and we both knew I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to get married, but I knew that you were sure.”

“I wanted you to be free to find someone who could give you that, and I thought breaking up with you was the right thing to do, but as soon as I left, I knew it was the absolute dumbest and most cowardly thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“I shouldn’t have made that decision for you, I should have told you how I was feeling and let you make the choice yourself, even if the outcome would have been the same.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jeonghan chokes out, his face pinched and his eyes full of saltwater.

Tears are threatening to stream down your face, your heart squeezing in your chest like someone is wringing it out. It’s time for you to respond to him, but you don’t know what to say.

You’ve missed him more than you ever thought possible, and a part of you is comforted by the fact that he never stopped loving you. But another part of you is broken, your trust in him fractured and your faith in him lost.

You feel like he’s misunderstood you on a fundamental level, like the years you spent together were for nothing because he obviously doesn’t know you as well as you thought he did. You feel like your autonomy has been stripped away, like he thinks you’re a child who can’t be trusted to form your own opinions.

Most of all, you feel robbed, of the last three months, of the lifetime you would have spent with him, married or unmarried.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You whisper, needing to know his angle. Is he just looking to absolve himself of guilt? You don’t know if you can do that for him.

“Because I’m dying without you,” he nearly sobs out. “I’ve wanted to come back since I left but my texts and calls wouldn’t go through, and I didn’t want to show up at your job like a creep, and all of our friends hate me except for Seungcheol so there was nobody to carry a message for me. It’s all my own fault, and I know that, I just- I’m selfish, I can’t let you go without knowing you want me to.”

“Jeonghan, I never wanted you to let me go. I never wanted to be free. I only wanted you,” your voice breaks on the last word, and you have to look away as you fight the urge to openly weep.

“Past tense?” He sounds defeated, empty. “You don’t…”

“Yoon Jeonghan, you’re a fucking idiot if you think I don’t love you anymore,” you glare, feeling like you could curse him, hex him and his whole bloodline for his stupidity. “But that doesn’t mean we can pick up where we left off. You broke us, you broke me, and I need time before I can let you in like that again.”

Finally, there’s life in his eyes again, gratitude and love shining on his face, like the fact that you’re even considering it is enough for him.

“I’ll be here, I’ll wait forever if I have to. And I’m not saying this because I think it’ll change anything, but I do want to marry you, only you, so I mean it when I say forever,” he sends you a watery beam, his face shiny with tears.

You can’t stop the corners of your mouth from quirking up in a smile, even if you do want to prod further into how he’s suddenly made up his mind. You fear you don’t have the energy for it tonight, not after all of this.

You also fear you don’t have the heart to send him home alone. He looks a bit better but his cheeks are gaunt, his hair is greasy, and there are dark circles under his eyes. He hasn’t been doing well, and you want to feel vindicated but instead you just feel worried.

“You can sleep here tonight, on the couch. Let me get you some blankets and pillows,” you whisper, rising to your feet and disappearing into your bedroom before he can protest out of some misguided feeling of imposition.

You gather up his favorite blanket, the one that’s been folded on the chair in the corner of your room since he broke up with you, and his preferred pillow. It still smells like him even though you’ve changed the case countless times, and you have to admit that you’ve been thankful for it.

You also get some pajamas he left, having neglected to clear out his drawer because you couldn’t bear to open it.

He’s right where you left him when you return, head tilted back as he dozes, and you set the bedding at the end of the couch before tentatively resting a hand on his shoulder to wake him.

He blinks up at you and smiles his sweetest smile, and you feel your heart start to stitch itself back together. In a whisper, you say, “Jeonghan, why don’t you take a shower while I get the couch ready?”

“Are you sure? You don’t have to do all this,” he mumbles, his eyes avoiding yours as he bites at his lip anxiously.

“I know I don’t. Let me do it anyway,” you tell him, squeezing his shoulder and reaching down for his hand to pull him up and to the bathroom.

He follows you obediently, taking the pajamas when you hand them over and grinning shyly at you one last time as the bathroom door closes between you.

You don't have a lot of time to think as you set up the couch, knowing he takes around ten minutes to shower. You’ll probably offer to blow dry his hair when he gets out, he hates sleeping with it wet, he always thinks it’ll give him a cold. Even after three months without him, caring for him is still as easy as breathing.

Now that you have some space, you’re not sure how much time you really need to let him back in.

Of course, you’re still wounded and bitter that he left you in the first place, but you can tell he wasn’t lying, that he really thought he was doing the right thing. You think he knows now that he shouldn’t ever do something like that again, and while your trust in him is cracked, it’s not as broken as you worried it was.

Setting everything he should and shouldn’t have done aside, you have to admit that you miss him, desperately, and that you want to be his just as much as you want him to be yours.

But with all of your feelings so fresh, you think you should sleep on it at least one night, just to be sure you have forgiven him, that you can take him back.

You should have a few minutes left before he’s done, so you sneak back into your room and grab your blow dryer and hair brush from your vanity, setting up shop on the chair closest to an outlet.

Soon enough, he wanders out in his baggy shirt and pajama pants, squeezing his dripping hair with a towel and grinning when he sees you.

“Salon time?” He asks with excitement, and you smile indulgently, waving the hair dryer at him and waiting for him to sit cross legged in front of you, his back to your knees and his head at the perfect height for you to take care of his hair.

It’s soothing to you, carrying out this routine and having this kind of intimacy with him after all these weeks apart.

You dry and dry until his silky locks slip through your fingers, and when you finally shut the blow dryer off, the silence in the room is deafening. Jeonghan is leaning back against your legs, his head dipped low and his neck bent at an odd angle, and you realize he’s fallen asleep.

It must have been soothing to him too, you think, gently scratching your nails over his scalp before whispering his name.

He stirs, looking around in confusion and tilting his head all the way back to look at you upside down, a sleepy smile stretching his lips.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice hushed and relaxed.

You fight the urge to lean down and press a kiss to his lips like you used to, smoothing your finger over his eyebrow instead and replying, “You’re welcome.”

He pushes up to his feet, stretching his hands overhead and yawning loudly, before turning and reaching for you only to stop short.

“Goodnight,” he says, holding his hands behind his back like he’ll touch you if he doesn’t.

“Goodnight,” you whisper, trying to ignore how weird it feels not to follow it with an I love you.

You turn and retreat to your room before the words can escape without your permission, closing the door behind you with a soft click.

You’re already all washed up for the night so you just slide into your side of the bed, pulling the duvet tight around you to mimic the feeling of Jeonghan’s arms.

It takes you ages to fall asleep with the knowledge that he’s just a few yards away, that you could have him in this bed if only you would ask.

It’s dark when you wake, your heart still racing with the nightmare that roused you though you can’t remember it. You lay in bed and stare up at the ceiling in an attempt to calm yourself, your eyes locking onto the blur of the fan, just barely visible with the moonlight seeping in through the curtains.

You hardly ever got nightmares when Jeonghan slept over, but you’ve had innumerable sleepless nights over the past three months, and you were hoping tonight wouldn’t be one of them with him in your apartment.

Maybe you should check and make sure he’s still here. He could have left, could have changed his mind, could have decided he was right to end it with you and gone home to his own apartment, and you wouldn’t even know until morning.

That anxiety is enough to make you roll out of bed and pad over to the door, your steps quiet and your breath caught in your chest.

You turn the knob as smoothly as you can, pushing the door open and wincing when it creaks. But when you look over to check if you woke Jeonghan, he’s already sitting up, the lamp on the side table on and a book from your shelf in his hands.

“What’s wrong?” He asks with concern, setting the book face down on the table and giving you his full attention.

“I just wanted to… check on you,” you give him a half truth, forgetting that he always could see right through you.

“You were scared I went home, weren't you?” He murmurs, a tinge of sadness to his voice and a remorseful frown on his face.

“Maybe,” you fiddle with the hem of your t-shirt, avoiding his eyes. “I just had a nightmare so…”

“Was it that I left again?” He asks, pulling his legs up and making room on the couch for you before patting the cushion in front of him. You take a few steps forward and he lifts the blanket up, covering your exposed legs with it when you settle onto the sofa.

“No, I don’t remember what happened. I just didn’t get them with you around so I thought you might not be around.”

You have to fight the urge not to crawl into his lap and curl up against him, feeling especially starved for affection after waking so abruptly. You wonder if he feels as far from you as you do from him, stuck in this limbo of being together but not together.

You think he does when you notice the longing in his soft eyes, see the way his brows are gently furrowed and his lip is bitten between his teeth.

“How can I help?” He wonders quietly, and you only give yourself a few seconds to think it over.

Yes, he broke up with you for a reason that he should have talked with you about instead. Yes, you’ve missed him the past three months like you never knew you could. Yes, it’s probably too soon to let him back in like this.

But you find you don’t care about any of that.

You just want him close, need to know he’s here and he’s staying and he’s yours.

So you push aside your bruised feelings and whisper in a fragile voice, “Come to bed with me?”

He looks unsure but rises when you do, his face smoothing out as he offers you his hand and lets you tug him to your bedroom. He hovers when he crosses the threshold and it occurs to you that you might have to guide him. He was so respectful of your boundaries in the beginning of the relationship that you called almost all of the shots, and you wonder if your two years of progress have been undone over the past three months apart.

But maybe this is a good thing, you think as you lead him over to his side of the bed and tuck him in. You’re the one who told him you can’t pick up where you left off, and you like that he’s reset a bit, that he wants to treat this like a fresh start, because it is one.

Before, you would just crawl over him onto your side, but now you walk around the bed, climbing in and tugging the blanket over your body. You pull it up to your chin, still feeling a bit chilled, and it takes you less than sixty seconds to decide cuddling is allowed even if you’re beginning anew.

So you roll onto your side to face him, your eyes just barely able to make him out in the dark of your bedroom. He turns his head to look at you, his hands folded together on his stomach before he reaches one out across the bed. That’s the only signal you need to close the distance and tuck yourself up under his arm, your cheek resting in the hollow of his shoulder and your hand finding his.

He tilts his head up, pressing his lips to your forehead and sneaking a whiff of your hair as he tangles his fingers with yours. You take in a deep breath, what feels like your first since he ended things, and let your eyelids flutter shut, trusting that he’ll be here when you wake.

“I love you,” he whispers, so low you almost don’t hear him.

“I love you, too,” you mumble back. “But if you pull that shit again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do, and I mean that.”

“Please murder me if I do. Obviously I’ve gone fucking crazy if I fuck this up again.”

You fall asleep with a smile on your face.

AN: yayyy i wrote something!! a randomized wheel told me to write jeonghan so i did and it turned into this and then the wheel told me to make it smutty and i was like no that is not correct! so sorry lovelies but no smut today!! it just didn't feel right after them being apart for so long and jeonghan only just starting to make it up to reader and earn her back (even if she is making it easy for him)

thank u for reading, please lmk what you think!!

#k vanity #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan scenarios #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan x you #yoon jeonghan imagines #seventeen fic #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios #kpop fanfic #✨emily writes✨

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ma1dita · 1 month

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY LOVEEEE <3

🐥 luke castellan x reader in a long distance relationship & he calls her after he’s had a few drinks bc he misses her (fluff or smut, whatever u want)

MWUAH

MDNI

🐥🐥🐥🐥🐥

a/n: loser!luke? more like whipped!luke, very whiny.... i believe in my heart he's an ass man but that's me being self-indulgent anyways smut but he just masturbates because he's a needy fuck

wc: 914

frances made me do it blame her i'm putting my phone away in fear

At first it was a good idea.

Picking colleges an hour away from each other seemed like the right thing to do, a very mature adult thing even—especially after spending a good four years of being attached to each other at Camp Half Blood. Personal growth, you both reasoned, and college was a great way to branch out and be independent. You didn’t need to be with each other 24/7, and seeing each other on weekends wasn’t all that bad. Luke couldn’t give less of a shit now though—he’s tipsy after downing a few Heinekens and all he can think about are very R-rated adult things he did with you last weekend when he went to visit.

Some things never change, and he reckons he’d settle for anything you give him, whether it be a picture of your ass or the sound of your voice over the phone. His hands fumble with his belt buckle as he sprawls across the couch in his apartment. The sound of the phone ringing adds to his anticipation until he hears a click and your voice filters through like music to his ears.

“Miss me, baby?”

“Like you wouldn’t imagine,” he sighs, noticing his cock stand at attention at the few words that have left your mouth. He’s convinced you’re a witch of some sort—that or he’s been pavloved to feel hot at even the idea of you. Cheeks flushing, he can’t help but stick his hand in his boxers and stroke himself as you tell him about the paper you’re writing, steady tap-taps of your keyboard in the background as he strokes himself slowly. Your voice is hushed to not wake up your roommate, but well, his dick is fully awake at the sound of your murmurs. Only you could make the Ides of March sound sexy, and you quickly notice Luke’s not paying attention when you hear a low groan through the phone.

“You’re not even listening to me, babe,” you giggle, “my boy feeling needy?”

“I’m a man,” he whines, your laughter trickling through from your end and tickling every one of his senses as he spits into his hand and gets down to business just wishing you were here to help him. He even tries to tease his balls like how you would, but thinking too hard about it makes him aggravated.

“You’re crazy, Lu…” you whisper, “can feel how desperate you are from all the way over here.”

“Crazy for you. Whatcha wearing, hot stuff?”

He smiles when you tell him you’re in those leggings he likes and Luke closes his eyes tightly as he fists his cock. Through the stars that dance in his vision he thinks he can smell you–all sweat and sweetness just how he likes. His head lolls onto his shoulder in desperation as his hand moves up and down adding pressure as he imagines your hole fluttering around him and taking him so well, covering him in your slick instead of his own pathetic spit. Luke’s tongue sticks out the side of his mouth as he concentrates.

Gods you’re pretty when you ride him—the curve of your waist when you bounce in his lap and the crescent-shaped marks he leaves when he grabs onto your hips, forcing you down harder so that all you can both hear is the slapping of skin. Luke moans, a broken, almost shameful sound until he remembers he’s alone in the apartment tonight.

You’re still tapping away at your keyboard unfazed by your boyfriend’s arousal.

“Poor baby, you close? What’s on your mind?”

“Mmmph…How your back arches when you ride me…Like the way you let me pull your hair,” he grits, his hand moving faster as precum drips over the precipice of his cock, swollen and angry and he’s almost there. The veins in his forearm look like they’re about to burst and he’s dizzy with want, his heart beating faster with his movements.

“Yeah? You know I like it when you need me. Wish I could be there and do that thing you like.”

He can hear the grin in your voice as he shakes his head, breathing harder and groaning. He can see it so clearly in his head—feel the swivel of your hips as your pussy clenches down on every ridge of his cock, and all he can do right now is rub his thumb over the sensitive area as he gasps for air.

“Got you baby, just let go for me…”

Luke hisses, spurts of hot, milky cum hitting the chiseled muscles of his abdomen, before he takes a deep breath. He hears you shut your laptop and the sound of you shuffling in your room.

“Didn’t even make it to Facetime this time around. Sorry baby, missed you bad,” he chuckles, taking another sip of now warm beer.

“It’s been four days, Luke,” you tease, “but I was hoping you’d return the favor.”

“Oh yeah? Lemme see your pretty face.”

He presses the button to Facetime, but you don’t answer, and the sound of a car starting catches his attention.

“Babe?”

“Unlike you, I’d rather have the real thing. See you in an hour,” you laugh, pulling out of your driveway.

“It’s Thursday!”

“And it’s my turn to drive up anyway, so you better fuck me so hard I’ll have a reason to call in sick. I’m driving as fast as I can, Lu!”

And what type of rational adult would he be to deny that?

#jo's 23rd birthday bash ⋆｡°✩#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x reader smut #pjo x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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goldengalore · 1 year

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Intimacy

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Y/N hasn’t been intimate with someone in a long time, which makes her nervous about having sex with Harry for the first time.

Word count: 6.5k

Warnings: anxiety, smut (featuring soft dom!harry, fingering, thigh riding, oral - m receiving)

A/N: This is one last idea (for now) that I had for the anxious!reader universe. Lots of smut, but it’s very soft and sweet and full of love :)

***

His hands. Y/N can’t stop staring at his hands.

There are a lot of things she finds attractive about Harry. Too many. It’s actually maddening how one person can have so many attractive qualities. Lately, her brain has decided to fixate on his hands. They’re pretty and elegant, strong and masculine.

His long fingers are often decorated with an ornate collection of rings. Sometimes his nails are painted with vibrant colours; other times, they’re unpainted but still clean and neatly trimmed. She can often see the veins that travel up the backs of his hands into his toned arms. He moisturizes them well too, so they rarely look dry.

Y/N would be lying if she said her obsession with Harry’s hands is completely innocent and merely about aesthetics, that she hasn’t imagined how those fingers would feel in her mouth or between her legs and orgasmed to the thought of that while lying alone in bed at night.

It doesn’t help that he’s a highly affectionate person, finding any excuse to place his hands on her whenever she’s within reach. Even now, as they lounge on his couch, he pulls her legs into his lap and begins massaging them. She’s wearing a knee-length dress today, leaving her lower legs exposed. His hands don’t move up past her knees, but that doesn’t stop her imagination from running wild anyway.

“Y/N?” His smooth, commanding voice—another annoyingly attractive feature of his—pulls her from her thoughts.

“Hmm?” Her eyes flick up to his emerald ones staring back at her. She realizes with embarrassment that she hasn’t listened to a thing he’s said in the past minute or so.

“What were you staring at?” He glances down in his lap, where her gaze was just a few seconds ago.

“Oh, just your hands.”

His brows furrow slightly as he starts inspecting his hands, turning his palms up, then down. “Why? Something wrong with them?”

“No! No, they’re just… nice. Nice hands. That’s all. Sorry, what, um, what were you saying?”

A teasing smirk forms on his lips. “Nice hands, huh? Never heard that one before.”

She rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the heat rising to her cheeks. “Please. I’m sure you’ve heard that a million times.”

“Mmm, not really.”

She narrows her eyes at him, not believing him for a second. His smirk broadens.

“Anyway,” he says, resting his hands back on her legs, “I was just saying that I really missed you last week.”

Now she feels even worse about zoning out on him. He’s been out of town this past week for work. They reunited just this morning after his flight landed back in LA.

“I missed you too, H.”

“This week made me realize something.”

Her heart skips a beat. “What?”

“Made me realize how much I hate being away from you. I know our friendship started over Zoom meetings and phone calls and whatnot since I was on tour, but…” He shrugs. “After spending time with you in person these past couple months, I can’t imagine being away from you for weeks or months at a time. I think I’d go mad.”

His confession feels like being swaddled in a warm blanket. While he was away, Y/N couldn’t stop thinking about him. His fluffy hair and dimpled smile, his kind eyes and boyish laugh, even his cute nose consumed her thoughts from the moment she woke up in the morning to the moment she fell asleep at night. She found herself cursing the slow passage of time frequently throughout the week. To hear that her feelings were reciprocated makes her giddy inside.

When she takes a while to respond, he says, “I hope that wasn’t too intense. It’s just been on my mind lately and I had to say it.”

“No, I feel the same way.” I think I’m in love with you, she says in her head but struggles to speak aloud. She has never been the first to say those words in a relationship.

He smiles, relieved. “Okay, good.” He holds her gaze for a few seconds, then shifts closer, her legs still strewn across his lap. His hand comes up to cradle her jaw as he leans in for a kiss, sucking her top lip into his mouth.

She scoots even closer, practically sitting in his lap now. The movement causes her dress to ride up. Harry rests his other hand on her bare thigh, squeezing it lightly. Her heart quickens. His hand inches along her inner thigh, hiking her dress up even further. Suddenly, her whole body tenses up and she shrinks away from his touch.

“Sorry, I—I can’t,” she stammers, quickly removing her legs from his lap and tugging her dress back down.

She sneaks a glance at his face and detects some hurt there. It lasts for a split second, but her brain registers it anyway. She feels awful. This is the second time he has tried to get intimate with her beyond just kissing. The first was the night before he was supposed to fly out of the city. They were cuddling in his bed. She was giving him all the signs that she wanted to take things further—letting her hands roam all over his body, grinding her hips against him—but as soon as he started returning her touches, she pulled away.

It’s frustrating because she fantasizes about it all the time, yet when it finally starts to happen, she freezes up. It’s like her mind and body are on completely different pages.

“I’m sorry, H,” she repeats.

“It’s all right.” He gives her a reassuring smile. “You’re not ready for that. I understand.”

“But I am ready. I just…” She looks up at the ceiling as if the answers to her puzzling emotions will be there. “Ugh! I don’t know.”

A long silence stretches between them, though it probably feels longer in her head than it is in reality.

“I should go,” she finally says, rising to her feet, but he grabs her hand before she can go anywhere.

“Already? We haven’t even had dinner yet.”

“But I made things awkward!”

“No, you didn’t. Stop that.”

She was trying to avoid his gaze, but he tugs on her hand to make her look at him.

“We’ve been apart for a whole week. You think I’m letting you run off that easily?” He frowns a bit. “Wait, that sounded creepier than I’d intended.”

She giggles, feeling somewhat lighter. “Okay, fine. I’ll stay.”

They order sushi for dinner and crack open a bottle of wine. The awkwardness she felt earlier fades as Harry starts telling her about a deep conversation he shared with the five-year-old girl sitting next to him on his flight. Y/N is glad she decided to stay because if she had gone home to spend the night by herself, her overthinking mind would have eaten her alive.

After dinner, they transfer back over to the couch with their wineglasses in hand. They sit cross-legged, facing each other. The wine has helped her loosen up some more, granting her the courage to explain why she’s been so reluctant to get intimate with him.

“I’m not a virgin,” she tells him. “I know it probably seems that way because of how I act every time we try to do anything sexual, but I’m not. Not that there’s anything wrong with being one, obviously. I just thought you should know.”

He nods. “Okay.”

Although he doesn’t press any further, his eyes are curious and attentive in a way that makes her want to spill everything, just lay out all her secrets and fears and insecurities in a big, messy pile in front of him.

“I’m not a virgin, but I haven’t had sex in years,” she explains. “And I’ve always had to have a few drinks before doing it. I tried doing it sober once, and it was a total disaster. I was on the verge of a panic attack the whole time, and the guy didn’t know what to do. I just told him to keep going, so he did until he finished and—”

“Lovie, that’s not okay,” he interjects, brows pinching together in concern. “He should’ve stopped when he realized you were having a panic attack.”

“Well, to be fair, I told him to keep going. It was totally consensual.”

“Still. He should’ve at least stopped to make sure you were all right. Seems like basic human decency to me.”

“I guess....” She shrugs, knowing that he’s right but not wanting to think about it much longer. “Anyway, after he finished, he told me that having sex with me was like fucking a scared baby deer.” She forces a laugh, though the memory still makes her cringe inside. “Needless to say, I was mortified and never saw him again. And that’s the only time I’ve had sex while sober.”

“And all the times you weren’t sober, did you at least enjoy it?”

She hesitates. “Um, define enjoy.”

He appears even more concerned now. “If you’re having to ask that question, I’m afraid the answer is no. If you enjoyed it, you would know.”

“Well, I just asked because if by ‘enjoy,’ you mean ‘did I orgasm during it,’ then it’s a no. But my anxiety was a lot more under control, so I guess that could be considered a form of enjoyment… Right?”

Rather than answering her question, he asks, “You’ve never orgasmed during sex?”

She shakes her head. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about, but her cheeks still feel like they’re on fire.

“Have you ever had an orgasm?”

“Oh, plenty. When I’m alone, that is.”

“I see.” He rubs his jaw and looks away, sinking deep into thought. She can’t read the expression on his face.

“So, now you know how bad I am at sex,” she jokes to fill the silence.

He looks at her with a raised brow. “I don’t know about that. If anything, it’s the guys you’ve been with who were bad at sex if they couldn’t even make you come once.”

“Oh no, they were all very experienced.” Y/N doesn’t know why she’s defending these men, as if they would do the same for her. Perhaps it’s because she’s spent her whole life thinking she was the problem and this is the first time someone has suggested a different perspective to the one she’s become so accustomed to.

“Experience doesn’t always equate to being good at something.”

“I guess not.” She bites her lip and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “I do want to try again… with you. I just don’t know how to stay calm without having a few drinks in my system.”

“Yeah, we’ll have to work on that.”

His use of the word “we” doesn’t go unnoticed by her. We, as in this is our problem, not just yours. We, as in we’ll figure this out together, you don’t have to do it alone. She feels a surge of something in her chest, and the only term she can think of to describe it is love.

“I’m calm right now,” she says with sudden realization, placing her wineglass on the table so quickly that it almost topples over. “So, technically, we could try again—”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We’re not having sex for the first time while you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk drunk though. Just a bit tipsy. I think we could still—”

“Y/N, it’s not happening,” he states firmly. “Other guys might have been okay with that sort of thing, but I’m not, okay?”

Her shoulders slump. She looks down in her lap. “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you. I just want you to know that I want it as much as you do.”

“I know. Hey”—he tilts up her chin—“we’ll get there. There’s no rush. I’m not going anywhere.”

He has no idea how much of a relief it is to hear those words. Her biggest fear this whole time has been him losing interest in her because she can’t seem to get over her anxiety around sex. It’s happened before. Guys often expect her anxiety to disappear after the first time. When it doesn’t, they take it as a blow to their ego and react by making her feel like a freak for being anxious at all. The humiliation leads to even worse anxiety the next time she gets intimate with someone. It’s a vicious cycle.

She doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but maybe that cycle finally ends with Harry.

***

When it comes to Y/N, Harry just doesn’t know how to keep his hands to himself. Even before they met in person, he would dream of the day he could finally have her in his arms, how perfectly their bodies would mold together, how electrifying that first contact would be. For months, he’s been dying to touch and feel and kiss every inch of her, but after hearing about her sexual history, it’s no surprise why she’s so hesitant to take that step with him.

Taking things slow is not a problem for Harry. If anything, he feels lucky to be the one who gets to show her how fun and exciting and stress-relieving sex can be when the people involved actually care about each other’s pleasure.

It’s been a few days since that initial conversation. They’ve had several more discussions about it since then, and he thinks they’re ready to try something now.

He stares at Y/N lying on his bed, looking cute and cozy in his forest green Pleasing crewneck. Her lips are swollen from all their making out, her neck and collarbone littered with red spots where he licked and sucked on her skin like an ice cream cone.

“Question for you,” he says, leaning his head on his palm. “When’s the last time you touched yourself?”

“Hmm… A couple days ago?”

“Would you feel comfortable doing that in front of me?”

Her eyes widen. “Y—you want to watch me touch myself?”

“Only if you’re okay with it.” Her reaction already indicates that she’s not.

“Oh, I… I don’t think I am,” she admits, confirming his thoughts. “I mean, I don’t even like being watched while I cross the street. It’s like I forget how to walk.”

“Okay, different question. How would you feel about getting in a bath with me?”

She thinks about it. “I’d be okay with that.”

He runs them a bath lightly scented with a lavender oil he bought recently, while Y/N leans against the doorway and watches. Once he begins to undress, she follows suit. Starting with his crewneck, she removes her clothes at an extremely slow pace, as if she’s on the verge of changing her mind at any moment. He finishes undressing before she does and pretends not to notice her eyes bulging at the sight of his dick. Instead, he leans over to the tub to test the temperature of the water.

“I’ll get in first,” he says. “Then you can sit between my legs. Sound good?”

She swallows. “Yup.”

He steps into the tub and submerges everything but his head and upper chest into the water. His back rests against one side, his long legs outstretched in front of him.

In the meantime, Y/N finishes undressing. He forces himself not to stare, knowing that it’ll only make her more nervous. She moves quickly now, striding over to the tub and climbing in on wobbly legs. He holds out his hand for support.

“Careful,” he says.

She sits down between his legs with her back facing him. There’s still a lot of space between them.

“Just lean back against me,” he tells her.

She hesitates for a moment, then leans back until she’s flush against his torso.

He smiles. “There you go.”

“Okay, what now?”

“Nothing. Let’s just sit for a minute.”

They enjoy the next few minutes in companionable silence. The warm water seems to dissolve all the tension in her body, which is exactly why he suggested this idea in the first place. Her shoulders relax. She sinks deeper into him.

After a while, he says, “I’m going to try something. If you don’t like what I’m doing or you want me to stop, I need you to tell me. Don’t worry about hurting my feelings. My ego can handle it. Okay?”

She responds with a tiny nod.

“I need you to answer me verbally, lovie,” he says softly in her ear. “Just so I can be sure we’re on the same page.”

“Yes. Got it. Sorry.”

“That’s okay. Don’t have to apologize.”

“Sorry,” she says again, automatically. “Fuck! Sorr— Shit! Why do I keep—” She starts to sit up, but he places a hand in the middle of her chest, gently pulling her back against him. He can feel her heart galloping like a racehorse.

“Y/N, relax. You’re okay. You’re doing great. Just breathe.”

She inhales a deep, shaky breath, then releases it.

“That’s good. Keep doing that.”

Her heartrate gradually decreases with each breath she takes. Once she appears to have calmed down, he moves his hand from the centre of her chest to one of her breasts, cupping it tenderly in his palm. His other hand comes to rest on her belly before making its descent between her legs. She squirms a little once the pads of his fingers make contact with her clit.

“Are we okay?” he asks.

“Y—yeah.” She takes another deliberate breath.

He rubs her clit in small, tight circles and kneads her breast at the same time. Her hands rest at her sides on top of his thighs. As he pinches her nipple, twisting and pulling it lightly, her fingers dig into his thighs and his cock twitches between their bodies. He wonders if she felt it. His middle finger prods around her slit now and slips inside without resistance. He pumps it in and out a few times before adding a second one, using his thumb to rub her clit.

Y/N is completely silent, but the slick substance coating her pussy and the subtle rocking of her hips is confirmation enough that she’s enjoying this. He peeks at her face to find her eyes closed and her bottom lip pulled between her teeth like she’s afraid of accidentally making a sound.

That is another thing they’ll need to work on. Harry likes being vocal during sex and equally enjoys when his lovers are vocal too. He doesn’t want Y/N to hold anything back around him. But they can work on that another day.

“Does this feel good?” he asks.

She nods, then remembers what he said earlier and answers out loud, “Feels good, yes. Really good.”

Satisfied by her response, he presses a third finger inside and pushes all three of them deep into her with every thrust, turning her into a squirming, quivering mess in his arms. Her back arches off his torso as she comes, the smallest whimper slipping through her self-restraint. He gradually lessens the stimulation on her clit, then removes his fingers completely. She lets her head roll back against his shoulder.

“Wow,” she sighs. “I’ve never… That’s never happened with someone before.”

“Wasn’t too bad, was it?”

“No, it was great. Um… thank you?”

He chuckles. “My pleasure.”

Suddenly, she sits up and looks over her shoulder at him. “So… your turn now?”

He waves his hand, splashing some of the water with it. “Don’t worry about that.”

She frowns. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs casually, trying to act cool as if he can’t feel his dick throbbing furiously under the water right now.

He could take her up on the offer, but he wants to focus on her today. Y/N is too nice to admit it, but he has deduced from their recent conversations that her previous partners were too greedy in the bedroom, exploiting her selfless nature for their own benefit. It’s quite unfortunate. Someone like her deserves to be spoiled, not exploited. At least now that she’s with him, he can make sure she gets the treatment she deserves.

After they’ve cleaned up and stepped out of the tub, he grabs one of the towels off the counter and starts handing it to her, then stops.

“Can I dry you off?” he asks.

She seems surprised but not opposed to the idea. “Sure.”

“Okay, just one moment.” He quickly pats himself dry, then grabs the other towel and walks over to her.

Timid eyes gaze up at him. They fall shut as he raises the towel to her face and dabs away all the little water droplets. Next, he moves down to her neck, shoulders, chest, and so on… After he’s done with her upper body, he sinks down to his knees on the mat and works on her lower half, taking his sweet time and humming softly to himself. He glances up to find her smiling at him.

Once her entire body is dry, he leans forward and plants a kiss to her belly before standing up with the towel thrown over his shoulder. Y/N’s eyes follow him as if in a trance.

“All good?”

She just blinks at him.

“Y/N?”

“I’m in love with you.” The words rush out of her like a whoosh of air that had been trapped in a sealed container. “God, it feels weird saying it out loud. It’s been in my head for so long and I didn’t want to say it because that makes it feel more… real.”

“Why’s that a bad thing?”

She doesn’t reply.

“Because you think I don’t feel the same way?”

“Do you?” She winces slightly as if she’s bracing herself for possible rejection, as if the answer to that question could be anything but “absolutely, positively, one-hundred percent yes.”

“Of course I do, Y/N. I thought I’d made that pretty obvious.”

“You should know by now that nothing is obvious with me.”

It’s true. Even when they were just friends and Harry began dropping hints that he wanted to be more than that, they pretty much all went over her head. Y/N is a smart woman; she just happens to be totally oblivious when it comes to love and romance, which he finds deeply endearing about her.

“Well, take this as your confirmation that I am, in fact, very much in love with you,” he states, taking her face in his hands and giving her a big, sloppy smooch on the lips, which she accepts with a laugh.

***

“That’s it, lovie. Keep going. You’re doing amazing.”

Y/N rocks back and forth on Harry’s thigh, her cunt positioned directly over his tiger tattoo. His thick, firm quads provide the perfect amount of friction against her needy clit.

A week ago, the idea of riding his thigh while he watched her would have made her extremely self-conscious. But since then, they’ve spent each night exploring each other’s bodies. He has given her several more orgasms with his fingers and mouth, while she has given him some with her hand. They’ve masturbated in front of each other. One night, he gave her a full-body massage that turned her on so much that he hardly even had to touch her clit to make her come.

She doesn’t mind being watched anymore. Not by Harry, at least. His gaze is never judgemental or critical. She doesn’t need to fret over saying or doing the wrong thing and ruining the moment. This has made her fall even more head over heels for him.

“Look so pretty getting yourself off on my thigh like this,” he says, toying with her breasts.

A moan starts to leave her mouth until she pulls her bottom lip between her teeth to trap it in. Harry reaches up and drags her lip back down with his thumb.

“Let me hear you,” he says. “Wanna hear how good this makes you feel.” He grips her chin between his thumb and index finger, keeping her mouth open.

She’s close now, the heat of her orgasm building in her core. Her hips grind faster against him. He lifts up his thigh to heighten the pressure on her clit. The tight knot in her lower abdomen unravels, and she comes with a loud moan, soaking his thigh with her juices.

“You make the sweetest sounds when you come,” he says, releasing her chin.

She pecks him on the lips and, before she’s even recovered from her orgasm, gets on her knees between his legs.

He frowns. “What are you doing?”

She looks at him like it should be obvious. “Returning the favour?” As she begins to reach for his cock, he grabs her wrist.

“Nope,” he says. “You always do that.”

“Do what?”

“Act like you have to pay me back for every orgasm. Sex doesn’t have to be so transactional, you know?” The smirk on his face conveys that he’s joking, but that doesn’t stop Y/N from having the sudden, embarrassing realization that perhaps she does treat sex like it’s transactional and just wasn’t aware of it until now.

“I—I know that,” she fibs a little. “I just want to make you feel good.” That part, at least, is not a lie.

Harry has been spoiling her heavily this past week, which has been delightful. She can tell he’s making every effort to gain her trust in the fact that he doesn’t expect anything in return for how incredible he makes her feel. But Y/N likes making him feel good too. She likes the way he hisses and shudders when she finds his most sensitive spots. She likes watching his usual composure crumble simply from her touch. She lives for it.

“Please?” she adds to her request, giving him her best doe eyes.

“Okay,” he says. “If you really want to.”

“I do.”

He lets go of her wrist, allowing her to reach for his stiff cock again. Nerves make her hands tremble, as she remembers how long it’s been since she gave someone a blowjob. She wants it to be perfect, but realistically, she’ll probably be a bit rusty.

She strokes him in her hand and runs her tongue along the underside of his shaft until, finally, she feels ready to take him in her mouth. Her lips wrap around his tip and slowly move down his length, tongue gliding against him. She considers deep-throating, then decides against it because it’s been way too long since she’s done it and she needs time to work up to it again. Any insecurity she felt about that disappears the moment she glances up at Harry. His eyes are closed and jaw clenched, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard.

Emboldened by the look of absolute ecstasy on his face, she bobs her head up and down his shaft and massages his balls with her hand. She moans around him, and he releases a low groan at the sensation it produces. Then she lets his entire length slip from her mouth, teasing him by flicking her tongue over his tip and leaving little kisses along his shaft until his fingers are weaving through her hair in desperation.

“Didn’t know you could be such a tease,” he says with a breathy laugh.

She grins innocently, then takes him into her mouth again, determined to suck him to completion this time. His hand feels good in her hair. She imagines him holding her head in place while he fucks her mouth. She never thought she would be into that sort of thing until now.

“I’m gonna come soon, Y/N,” he warns her as he gets close.

She doesn’t pull away. He thinks she didn’t hear him, so he repeats himself. She makes eye contact to convey that she heard him, that she wants him to come in her mouth, which he does moments later. She relishes the taste of it, swallowing every last drop. As she draws back and wipes her mouth clean, he stares at her in amazement.

“You’re really fucking good at that,” he tells her.

“Thanks! I had this boyfriend in college who only wanted blowjobs all the time since that didn’t involve having to make me come, which was basically impossible for him. He was kind of demanding, but he taught me how to give a damn good blowjob.”

Harry grimaces. “You know, the more I learn about your previous partners, the more I want to hit them over the head with something.”

She laughs. “I think I make them seem meaner than they were.”

“No, I think you make them seem nicer than they were.” He pats his thigh. “Get up here.”

She stands up and sits on his thigh with her legs dangling between his this time. His arm wraps around her back.

Locking his eyes on hers, he says, “You are worth so much more than being some guy’s blowjob dispenser, all right?”

“I know, I know,” she says. “I was just young and naive back then, but I know better now.”

“Good. Don’t ever let any man or woman treat you that way. Okay?”

His eyes are so full of care and concern for her that she thinks she might just cry.

“Okay,” she replies.

***

Harry loves writing about the initial euphoria that comes with falling in love. It’s intoxicating and exhilarating and all-consuming. Many of his most successful songs were inspired by this peculiar feeling. It’s no wonder that he keeps heading into the studio lately to harness all this creative energy and inject it into his music.

Today, Tom, Tyler, and Mitch are all in the studio with him. Mitch is riffing on his guitar while Harry adlibs over it when Jeff pokes his head into the room.

“H, Y/N’s here to see you,” he says.

Harry raises his brows. “She is?” She didn’t tell him that she’d be visiting the studio today.

“Yeah, she’s waiting out front.”

“Is she all right? Did she say why she’s here?”

Jeff shrugs. “No clue. She seemed fine.”

Y/N always seems “fine.” She’s quite skilled at pretending everything is okay when it’s not, which can be rather concerning. Harry tells the guys he’ll be back, then heads to the front of the studio where he finds his girlfriend staring at a wall decorated from top to bottom with framed album covers of legendary musicians.

“Hi, darling,” he says as he approaches.

She turns to him, eyes illuminating as soon as they meet his. “Hi! Sorry, I told Jeff not to go get you, but he did anyway.” She gives him an apologetic smile. “I hope you weren’t in the middle of something. I swear if you were writing your next Grammy-winning single and I just ruined your flow, I’ll be so mad at myself.”

“Stop it. You haven’t ruined anything.” He steps closer, taking her hands. “Now tell me what brought you here. Are you okay?”

He studies her as she replies, “Yes, I’m fine. I’m not here for any particular reason. I just…” She hesitates. “I needed to see you.” As soon as she says it, her eyes squeeze shut. “Fuck, that sounds so needy.”

“That’s okay. We all get needy sometimes. Do you want to sit in the studio with me?”

She bites her lip, giving it some thought before shaking her head.

“Okay.” He brings her hands between their bodies, swinging them apart and together again. “Then tell me what you need.”

“I—I need…” She glances down in the general direction of his crotch.

A smirk tugs at the corners of his lips. “You need…?”

She rolls her eyes. “Don’t make me say it.”

He tilts his head to side, feigning innocence. “Say what?”

“Baby…”

He wanted to make her say it, but the pleading look in her eyes makes him cave. “You need my cock, is that it?”

“Shhh! Not so loud!” Her head spins around to make sure no one heard them.

He laughs. “There’s no one around, lovie.”

“Still!” She sighs and presses her hands against her flaming cheeks. “It’s not fair. You’ve been teasing me with it this whole week, and it’s all I can think about. Couldn’t even focus on my art today because I kept thinking about how…”—she drops her voice to a barely audible whisper—“how you would feel inside me.”

It’s been exactly a week since Y/N first hinted that she’s ready to go all the way with him. Harry was the one who wanted to put it off a little longer. He predicted that if he made her wait long enough, her hunger for it would overpower any anxiety that might crop up during the act.

Smiling, he brings his hand up to her cheek, her skin hot against his cool palm. “Aw, I know, sweetheart. You know the only reason I’ve been teasing is to make sure you’re ready for it.”

“I know. And I’m ready now. I really am.”

“Okay, but we can’t exactly do it here, you know that?”

“Why not? Isn’t there a bathroom in here somewhere?” She pushes up on her toes to look over his shoulder down the hallway where he came from.

“We’re not fucking in the studio bathroom, Y/N.”

She groans and lifts her hands up to his chest, scrunching his shirt between her fingers. “But I can’t wait any longer!”

“Yes, you can.” He wraps his hands around her wrists. “You’re going to be a good girl for me and wait until I pick you up from your flat tonight.”

She pouts and concedes, “Fine.”

He kisses her pout and gives her a hug that lasts for several minutes because she doesn’t want to let go and he never lets go until she does, so they’re in a standoff for who’s going to let go first until finally, Y/N releases him.

After that, the rest of the day moves at a snail-like pace. Harry can hardly focus; he’s too distracted by the thought of what’s to come tonight. Every lyric he comes up with sounds too raunchy to put in an actual song. Even his friends jokingly speculate about why he’s acting so strange—especially Tom, who just loves to make him squirm.

That evening, he has to make a conscious effort not to speed all the way to Y/N’s flat. The plan was to pick her up, take her back to his place, and maybe eat dinner before having their fun, but he thinks he’ll have to skip most of those steps.

Y/N buzzes him into her building. She’s on the second floor, so he doesn’t even bother with the elevator and takes the stairs two at a time. As soon as she lets him in, his mouth is on hers. She kisses him right back, throwing her arms around his neck and pressing up against him. They make their way to her bedroom and remove all their clothes, ending up on the bed with him on top of her.

“Naughty girl,” he says between kisses to her neck. “Came all the way to the studio because you were needy for my cock, hm?”

She covers her face with her hands. “H, don’t tease! I’m embarrassed enough as it is.”

He gently pulls her hands away from her face. “Don’t be embarrassed. Do you have any idea how sexy it is that you want me that badly? Got me all hot and bothered at the studio. Could barely keep myself together for the rest of the day.”

A mischievous little grin makes its way onto her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really. That’s the effect you have on me.” His hand drifts down between her legs to find that she’s already drenched, so he grabs his cock and runs the tip up and down her slit. When he looks back up at her face, there’s a hint of apprehension that wasn’t there before. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Just remembered that I haven’t had something so, uh”—she swallows, glancing down at his cock—“big inside me in a while.”

“Do you want to be on top? That way, you can go at your own pace.”

“What if my pace is too slow and you can’t come?”

“What if I come two seconds after I’m inside you? Would you still love me?”

“Of course!”

“There’s your answer then.”

She squints at him, her lips curving up. “Well played.”

They switch positions so that she’s on top of him, straddling his hips while he leans back against the headboard. She carefully guides his cock up to her entrance, inserting the tip before lowering herself onto him. Her tight walls stretch and expand to accommodate him. She winces from the discomfort. He massages her hips, reminding her to take her time.

It takes her several attempts to get him all the way in, but once he’s there, the feeling is indescribable. He curses under his breath, closing his eyes briefly.

“Is that okay?” she asks.

“Perfect,” he responds in a strained voice. “It’s perfect.”

She seems reassured by his response and starts moving her hips in slow circles, getting used to having him inside her. Then she lifts up and sinks all the way down again. Soon enough, she’s riding him at a steady pace, her hands on his shoulders, her breasts swaying gorgeously in his face, beckoning him to place his hands over them. He has pictured this moment so many times, he can’t believe that it’s finally happening.

He starts thrusting up into her, meeting her halfway. As his thrusts become sharper, her jaw drops open.

“Harry—”

The sound of his name slipping out of her mouth like that, all salacious and full of yearning, is a drug he can see himself getting addicted to.

“Please,” she whines.

He slows down, worried that he might have been too rough. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. Just— Please don’t stop. It feels so good.”

“Feels good, huh? Someone finally fucking you like you deserve?”

She nods, her eyes rolling back as he resumes the movement of his hips.

“This is what it’s supposed to feel like,” he tells her. “Remember this.”

“Oh, I will.” She barely finishes her sentence before he pounds into her again.

He feels himself about to crest and reaches down to rub her clit. A final medley of moans and grunts leave their mouths as they come. Her pussy spasms around his pulsing length. As the waves of pleasure subside, her body goes completely slack in his arms, worn out from the intensity of the experience they just shared. She rests her head against his shoulder, basking in the afterglow while he brushes his fingers through her hair.

Her soft voice breaks through the silence. “I didn’t know it could feel this good. I’ve been missing out.”

“We’ve got plenty of time to catch you up. Don’t you worry.” He kisses the side of her head, earning a contented sigh from her.

***

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minihotdog · 3 months

Text

Whose Wife Is This?

Pairing: John Price x F!Reader

Summary: John comes home and finds out that he somehow has a wife.

a/n: lmaooo I just had this idea before I went to bed the other night. Kinda wrote this in a hurry so it isn't organized at all and the story is all over the place, yada yada. Bare with me... Bear with me? *shrugs*

word count: 1k

***

John tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes to no avail. There was no way of hiding that the long nights he’d been putting in at the office were weighing on him. But with no reason to go home, why would he? He’d just have to complete the mountain of paperwork the next day anyway. His eyes strained from hours of reading, his wrist ached from writing.

Young John Price would’ve never imagined the amount of paper pushing he’d be doing as an operator. His naive young self lived for the chaos of the field, sometimes even putting off his less-than-exciting duties.

“Sir?” John’s head shoots up. The boys stand at his door huddled around the small entrance. “You staying here all night, Captain?” Gaz asks with concern mixed into his voice. John looks over to the now significantly smaller pile of papers littering his desk.

“I was just finishing up. You boys need something?”

Gaz shakes his head, “No, sir.” A smirk plays on his lips. “Just tell your wife we said ‘hello’.”

“I’ll let her know.” He replies absentmindedly. The boys leave the captain alone once again, he continues looking at the papers, shuffling them around before he stops abruptly.

“My wife? What the bloody hell were they talking about.” He mutters to himself. He takes it as a sign that he should call it a night since he is now imagining things. “I don’t have a wife. Why would he say that?”

***

The drive home is silent. At the end of a long day, he couldn’t stand to listen to anything, his mind was too exhausted to think about anything but a beer and his bed. Not many knew about his personal life. Ghost was the only one who knew he’d been married before, but the marriage occurred when he was younger and undoubtedly more immature.

He made it to selection, began his career, and fell into the same pattern many men in his profession did: Partying, one-night stands, etc. He would be the first to admit that he’d been a piss-poor husband and he was now missing the touch of a woman in his life. His bed was lonely, his house devoid of life, reflecting how often he was actually home. He’d become a hopeless romantic, dreaming of someone he could hold in his arms. He yearned for someone to memorize. Their little habits and quirks, someone he’d share moments with, even have arguments with.

He pulls into his driveway barely remembering the drive home. He groans as he steps out of his car, his back aching from the day of training and being hunched over. He moseys his way to the front door and unlocks it while letting out a deep breath. The hallway is lit by a single dim light, the brown floral wallpaper looks like it came from the 19th century and gives the home a depressing look. He unties his boots and kicks them off leaving them next to the door. He removes his uniform top tossing it on the chair on the opposite wall before his feet pat softly against the hardwood floors leading towards the kitchen, towards a beer he so badly wanted to have.

He briefly glances at a photo framed on the wall and continues onward-

Wait a second?

He takes a couple of steps back and his head snaps towards the photo. His eyes scan it knowing for a fact that it had not been there in the morning… Or any time before that. A woman in a white sun dress sat smiling in a field of flowers. He rubs his eyes, unable to believe what he is seeing, she’s wearing his bucket hat.

He looks further down the hall and sees another picture frame, this one on top of the entryway table next to a pot of plants he either forgot to water or wasn’t around to. He rushes over to it and his eyes almost pop out of his head. This photo was of him smiling down at the same woman. He reaches for it, holding it close to his face. He looks around trying to make sense of what was happening only to realize the pot of dead plants now had vibrant green leaves pouring out of it.

Maybe he’d entered the wrong house? That couldn’t be, the furniture was in the same place as it had been before. And he couldn’t deny that the man in the photo looked exactly like him. Just as he was certain he was losing his mind a feminine voice calls out for him.

“John?”

He puts the picture frame back on the table and swings around towards the voice. Small bits of light flood into the hallway from the crack in the kitchen door. He slowly pushes the door further, his eyes trying to adjust to the bright light.

“There you are! I thought I heard you come home.” A woman rushes towards him wiping her hands on her pink apron. She pulls him into a hug but he’s too stunned to react. She pecks his cheeks and pulls him towards the dining table. “Sit, honey. I made you dinner. You stayed so late today, you’re probably starving.”

He lets her drag him to the table and plops down on a chair. She flows around the counter and returns with a plate of food. She places it in front of him in between the cutlery already on the table. The meal looks far better than what he’s been putting together for himself the last few weeks. He usually cooked or meal planned but work this week just didn’t let him and he expected to come home tonight and sleep for dinner.

He blinks at her for a few seconds unsure of how he ended up in this situation.

“Love, what are you doing in my house?”

“I’m your wife silly,” You giggle at him while leaning over to give him another kiss on the cheek.

If he had the energy to argue he would, but instead he decided to eat. He licks the plate clean and brings it to the kitchen sink.

“C’mon, honey. You’re so tired, let’s get you in bed.”

He follows quietly trying to figure out if he should accept this or if he should ask questions in the morning. There’s only one thing he knows for sure in his exhausted state: That’s not his wife.

#captain price #captain john price #john price #john price x reader #john price fluff #captain john price x reader #captain john price fluff #cod fluff #cod drabble #john price drabble #captain john price drabble #myfic

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simpcityy · 10 months

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I’m Not Her (Father Miguel O’Hara x Teen! Daughter Reader)

Summary: Miguel O’Hara is your biological father but it’s not great being his daughter when he’s hooked in the past still.

Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel or any of its characters. This is very short as well! Just a little prompt I thought also, I know the song is about a girl who loves a boy etc., but I thought of it more as father and daughter way. *Ahem* Him thinking of Gabi rather than the present daughter he has…I’m sorry if I confused you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Use of female pronouns, Use of (Y/N), angst, Father Miguel, overall, it’s just sad. Uhhh I think that is all for now.

Pt.1 Pt.2 Pt.3 Pt.4 Pt.5 Pt.6

Being the biological daughter of Miguel O’Hara has its ups and downs but mostly downs according to you. Walking through the Spider Society, you held some reports from Jess, she was on her way to hand them over to your father but seeing the kind person you are, you decided to do it for her so she can rest. You're amazed how a woman so pregnant can still fight. Walking down the halls, you were alone with your thoughts. The time he left to be a father to another girl..a girl named Gabriella…were you not enough for him? What did Gabi have that you didn’t? So many thoughts running through your head only to be snapped from hearing Mayday giggling in the room. Taking a deep breath, you pushed in ready for the chaos. “Hey! (Y/N)!” Peter smiles holding an energetic child. “Hey” You responded before looking over at Miguel who was looking at the videos that hurt you the most. Videos of him and Gabriella. You only frown a bit before masking it. “I'll just drop this off” You dropped the files onto a flat surface before walking to the door. “Hey Boo! You going to ask him?” Lyla appears in front of you smiling. You look at her and back to Miguel before shaking your head. “No…he has better things to do” You whisper walking through her, leaving. Lyla watches you staying quiet before next to Miguel. “Files were dropped.” She brought him back to reality. “Hmm? Who?” He mutters looking at the AI. He goes down his platform and picks up the files you left. “(Y/N) did, she was here not long ago” Lyla looks at her phone scrolling through it. Miguel looks at the door where you left not long ago.

Sitting out on the roof of your dimension, your thoughts only seem to be filling you up with anger. Why did he leave you to be a father for another kid…yeah, she lost her father but so did you…he left you to be with her. You groan out in frustration before looking at the time. “There is not enough time left” You mutter before getting up and going back to the house. A home where you stopped waiting for him to come home. Upon reaching your room, you changed into your pjs before walking over to the kitchen. Opening the fridge, you pulled out a cake you ordered yourself from your favorite shop. Placing it on the table, you put the candles on and sat down in front of it. “Happy Birthday to me…happy birthday to me…” You began to sing before letting out a sob. Your candles were put out from your tears. Another year alone and many more to go.

“If I could be her…but I’m not her and she’s not me.”

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

Authors note: This was just little one-shot. An idea that always comes to mind whenever I listen to that amazing song! I am working on part 3 of the Biomedical Engineer x Miguel. Hopefully this weekend it comes out along with the last part of my first father figure Miguel x reader. Please check those out if you haven’t. I’m stuck if I should make this into a full series as well, but I don’t know if people would interest in it. Anyways, as always sorry for any grammar errors. Thank you all for the support! Remember to stay hydrated and to keep on simping! (Simp City Population: 62!) Thank you so much for the follows and please you are welcome to reblog my works for others to be aware of this new Miguel O’Hara simp writer!

#miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara fic #across the spiderverse fic #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel ohara x fem!reader #miguel ohara x platonic reader #Miguel O’Hara x daughter reader #father figure miguel ohara

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lightwing-s · 3 months

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𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐒

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐢𝐯 ; 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬

pairing: jason todd x fem! reader

summary: you're pregnant. somehow, your baby daddy has to find out about it.

word count: 5,6k warnings: pregnancy, mentions of abortion.

a/n: i wrote and rewrote this a lot, and I don't think this is the best I could come up with, but here it is. a lot more angst that previous episodes and I do recommend reading it while listening to The Flame by Valerie Deniz and also Give me Love by Ed Sheeran because I love how emotional that song usually makes me feel. Hope you all enjoy it ♡♡♡

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ! ♡

links: previous ; next ; series masterlist ; general masterlist

With a deep sigh, you tried to settle down your nerves. Your hands were sore. Sweaty. Tired of trying. The heaviness still lingered on your chest. The feeling of incoming doom. The air all around was thicker than you’d remembered it for, nearly making it impossible for you to breathe. And you swore to your reflection in the mirror, you were gonna make it through.

It had been three nights since the result. Two days of pain. And one single thought looming in your mind. Pregnant. You’re pregnant. You didn’t know what to do, nor what to think. Sinking into a pit of terror and despair. The idea frightened you, tore you apart. And just thinking of your future, of what was to come from now on, made your head spin.

Today, you forced yourself to forget. Pretend your life was normal, like it used to be. Not Much had changed since you had taken the test three days ago, but to you it felt like everything was different.

You had skipped the gym the last couple of days, the first time doing it since you could remember, scared to face anybody and them finding out, but also too anxiety stricken to even leave your bed. You felt cramps, but also your stomach turning. You felt nauseous, but you weren’t sure if it was due to your newfound condition, or if it was the anxiety acting out.

Nessie had called, and you gave her some excuse that your boss needed you elsewhere. Another city. A quick work trip, you’d be back soon. At work, you told them you had caught some contagious disease you found on google, and they let you off for the entire week. Thankful for a relatively full pantry, you survived for two days on your own, but you sure couldn’t manage to eat much anyway.

You’ve never lived worst days. You were sure of that. Fear fills you to the brim. Sadness eats you up from the inside. And because of that, you felt even worse. There are so many people who dreamed of being where you were now, of getting a positive. So many have struggled for this. And here you were, ungrateful for yours. But you never wanted it in the first place. Not now, not like this. It didn’t follow your plan. It wasn’t perfect.

It wasn’t long ago that you were graduating college. And as of this moment, you were a mere assistant, not even a proper writer or a journalist yet like you’ve dreamed since you were little. An assistant. The bottom of the food chain, with still a lot to grow and harvest in your career. You neither had the finances, the stability, nor the time and mental capacity to be raising a baby on your own.

Because you would be raising it on your own, wouldn’t you? Your baby daddy would just disappear, like many others you’ve heard about. He would pack his things and disappear. He would live his life, continue with being young, having fun, while you were left to fend for yourself and your kid. All alone.

Would you even tell him? Should you even tell him?

Three nights. Three nights of torture. Of overthinking the future and sulking in your bed, your pillow drenched with your tears. You knew you’d go crazy if you kept that going for too long. So, finding some bit of courage, some tiny little ounce of determination, you left your bed that morning ready to forget. Ready to clear your mind, to make it think straight. And then, you wished, you would know what to do.

You showered, ate, did your skincare and put on makeup, and went for a walk around the park. But you just had to step out of your apartment to find someone who made you think instantly of him. Running back inside and leaving your raven haired neighbor staring confused at you, you made a beeline to the bathroom, dropping your entire breakfast in the toilet.

You had to tell him, hadn’t you? You had to tell Jason. It was the right thing to do, right?

So, here you were. Back at the gym you’d quit a month ago in favor of another. All because of your last encounter. You thought it was the best to be done, remove him entirely from your life so you could be free again. If only you had known then where you’d be a month later, you’d have laughed at the irony the world was throwing at you. You still remembered the times he’d come, praying he didn’t have them changed for some reason. Maybe he wanted to avoid you too. Maybe he had quit. Please, God. Be on my side, only for today.

It had been, perhaps, a full hour since you arrived. Roy had greeted you with a large smile, asking if you were back for good. You couldn’t match his enthusiasm, offering him a poor excuse of your own smile instead. All this time, you couldn’t complete a full set, never mind finish an entire exercise. Your body trembled, not answering you. Too exhausted. The heaviness on your chest helped in weighing you down and making every effort insufficient.

The weights you had tried to use now stood on your feet. Crooked, disordered, unorganized. Then, you found yourself looking at your reflection in the mirror. Your eyes were red and swollen. Your lips were dry and exposed some nervous bite marks you’d been taking off them. There were a few pimples on your forehead, and you had bags under your eyes. In the corner of the mirror, too stood the reflection of the one you’d been looking for.

He chatted with another man. It wasn’t Roy, by the darker hair color and shorter size. Yet it was a face you recognized, but failed to name. Jason looked happy, smiling as he spoke excitedly about something you did not know about. Were you really ready to tell him? Were you okay with ceasing his happiness?

Your eyes lingered on him for longer, and eventually, his eyes found yours. His smile was quickly replaced by a frown. An air of disgust and anger. His tongue poked his cheek, and he rolled his eyes at you. Turning around, he decided that facing the other direction was much better than facing you. Now, his broad back was all you were left to stare at.

You felt the nausea return. Leaving your things behind, you rushed to the restroom. He hated you. He hated you and he was fucking right for it. And what were you thinking? Telling him he was going to be a father, to your baby above all, at the fucking gym?

After dumping your stomach in the toilet once more, you wanted to get out of there. Collecting your things and shoving them inside your bag, you headed out. However, in good old fashion, you felt a body stop as it came in contact with someone else’s. You didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Eyeing you from above, Jason started to apologize before he could recognize who you were, proceeding to roll his eyes again. You excused yourself, still looking away from him, and his demeanor changed from anger to worry.

“Yn, are you alright?” he inquired, reaching for your arm. You felt your eyes start to burn, the tears finding their way back, and the nausea only got worse. Running past him, all you managed to say was a quick “I’m fine,” before disappearing.

You arrived at his building straight away, using the faint memory of the directions that remained in your brain from the night he brought you here. You were still clad in your gym clothes, not caring to stop at home first, nor remembering to actually do it. But it was fine, because you didn’t sweat anyways. You couldn’t even finish one full exercise in the hour or so you were there.

So you waited. You waited on the opposite sidewalk, thinking back to the first time you came here. It was almost two months ago, or maybe more, you don’t remember exactly. It seemed longer, though. It all seemed longer. Longer than two months. Longer than three days. It all seemed like an eternity.

The sun waved goodbye on the horizon, hiding between Gotham’s skyline. The weather started to shift, as the warmth of summer slowly gave place to the strong winds and the coolness of the autumn days. The breeze made you wish you had brought a coat or something to keep you warm, the thin gym clothes you wore doing nothing to help you. And so, your body shivered.

Shivered from the cold. Shivered from the fear. The agony you’d so desperately tried to keep away returning back to you. If you went up. If you knocked on his door. If you talked to him, there was no pretending anymore. There was no hiding facts you so wished you could. There was no fighting reality.

A lump formed in your throat, and you tried to swallow it away, to no avail. Your breath, your hands, your legs, your all trembled. Fighting to keep yourself up when all you wanted was to fall down, to curl up under your covers and hide from the world. From the truth.

You thought back to the days when things were easier. To your days at the park, playing around with your friends, the hem of your jeans always dirty from mud, dust or paint. You remembered the days all you had to do was study, your chores, and your drawings. Reading books from sunrise to sundown, or for the entire night. Of when responsibilities didn’t follow you everywhere, and the perspective of the future didn’t break you down.

You thought of your parents. Of how mad they would get. There was always a path to them, a way to follow. A way to live your entire life. Just like they had done theirs. Any step out of that line often led you to trouble. ‘You have to get married to a good and respectful husband. One that will care and provide for you. And then, when the time is right, God will give you children to raise, just like he did to me and your father,’ your mother would tell you. ‘There’s nothing more shameful than a single mother’, were once the words of your father. And the thought of what they’d do to you once they found out had your tears rolling down faster than you could hold them in.

An old lady passed by you, asked if you were okay. You lied, like you’d been doing for the past few days. You weren’t one for lying, never was, and suddenly it was all you did. “Oh dear,” she cooed, and embraced you in an unexpected hug, before her tiny pomsky pulled her away.

Grey took over your surroundings, like one of those movie filters that left everything somber. A single headlight of a motorcycle let you know he was finally here. That the time of truth was upon you. You watched him park his motorcycle like a creep. Hidden in a dark corner, away from his sight. He had showered at the gym, and now wore a different outfit. Sweatpants and a hoodie.

He looked comfortable. You clearly weren’t. He looked happy. Opposite to you. Were you ready to take all that away from him? To curse him to the same pain and anxiety you were feeling now?

But you couldn’t do it alone. You couldn’t. You needed him. You needed him. You needed him by your side. You need someone, something. Something to tell you everything would be okay. Gathering up all your courage, every bit you could find within yourself, you took one step out of the sidewalk.

A deep breath taken before entering the building, you walked in without ceasing to cry. Each step you took up the stairs was heavy. Heavier than when you were drunk, and heavier than the day you left. Each step was a gulp. Each gulp was a scream inside your brain telling you to turn around. About two or three times along the way you stopped to look down, and wondered what would be of you if you’d just ran away.

In your mind, you counted each and every step. An attempt to clear it of thought. It obviously didn’t work. Your legs shook and your breathing faltered with the last steps you took to reach the sixth floor. The tears had dried, leaving your skin cold to the touch. You moved on automatic. Everything else you did a blank stain in your memory.

It was the feeling of the hardwood under your knuckles that brought you back to reality. The hollow sound it made woke you up, showing you’d made it to his door. Your breath got stuck in your throat, and you felt like you could vomit.

He took his time to answer the door. And you wondered if it was a sign to turn around. To leave. But your feet wouldn’t move, even if you screamed at them to do so. The ruffling inside the apartment made your heart jump, beating hard in its place. Your breathing halted, trapped in your larynx, as the tears started rapidly falling down again.

When he opened the door, it was like time had stopped. He assessed you through narrow eyes, still angry at you. You didn’t blame him, not at all.

“They run from you twice and still come right back,” he hissed. His voice was hoarse and monotone, and his eyes found yours in a blank stare. The corners of your mouth fell. Your chin trembled. And had to avert your eyes from him otherwise you’d start sobbing all over again. “Yn,” he called, and his voice didn’t show the hate or disgust anymore. It was worried. It felt pain. Softer and watchfull. “What happened?”

You took a deep breath, swallowing down the tears. Trying so hard to keep them in, but the drops that fell beside your sneakers on the floor were a testament of how your body had stopped responding to you a long time ago. Your shoulders shook, and Jason went from worried to desperate. He didn’t know what was going on. But seeing you like this made him freak out.

And suddenly he wasn’t mad at you anymore. In retrospect, maybe he never truly was. But whatever anger, or frustration he had disappeared from his body. You felt his touch on your shoulder, and you imagined he had just put one hand there as a sign of support. You’d be thankful for just that. But then, you felt his arms drawing you close, wrapping around you, until you felt the soft cotton of his hoodie through your cheek.

The tears ran down faster, soaking a spot on the thick fabric. Your loud sobs only made Jason pull you closer, not knowing how, but still trying to call you down. Whatever happened was too bad that you’d run to him of all people, and he felt obligated to help you in any way he could.

By this point, he was holding you up himself. Your body giving in to the tears. Jason tucked his nose in your hair, breathing in the sweet scent of your shampoo. He caressed your back, kissed you temple, spread warmth through your body with his own hands rubbing at your arms. However, your tears ceased to stop, making the stain under your eyes enlarge, second after second.

“Yn,” he whispered right into your ear. The air he let out hitting against your skin.

You pressed your eyes shut. The tears that still lingered there being forced out. You tightened your hold on him. He called you again, and forced his neck to get a glimpse of your puffy red eyes.

You didn’t want to let go, but forced yourself to push him away just so you could finally face him. You felt your throat dry, a weak cough trying to fix it up. Jason couldn’t help the quick thought of how pretty you looked when you cried, but he felt so much pain in his chest at the same time that he wished he would never see you like that again.

The first time you opened your mouth, nothing came out of it. Jason’s fingers drew figures on your back, both a distraction and an encouragement. You can do it, you can do it. With another deep, long breath, you slowly opened your eyes to meet his.

“I-I’m…” you started, breathless. A single tear late to fall from your eyes. “I’m pregnant.”

Jason’s mind went blank. His body was suddenly weightless. The moments past your announcement, a mere stain in his memory. You now sat beside him on his sofa, your hands covering your face as he heard continuous sobs coming out of you. Your knees tight against your chest, and it didn’t bother him you had your shoes on the sofa. Nothing bothered him. Nothing was on his mind.

Your body quivered, nonstop. His own unresponsive. What the hell did he do?

Pregnant. Eight letters that had the power to change everything. Pregnant. You were pregnant. With his baby.

Jason felt his chest tighten, and breathing suddenly was harder. He tried swallowing the knot in his throat away, but it wouldn’t bulge. Resting his back on the sofa, a hand threading through his hair, he allowed a couple of tears out, rubbing his eyes off any others that dared to hang around.

“Are you sure?” he asked, breaking the prolonged silence with a raspy voice. Moving your head from it’s place buried on your knees, your eyes looked at him with a pain he’d have thought he’d put a knife on your back. “It’s not that I don’t trust you,” he told you softly. “I just want to be sure.”

Straightening beside him, you stared at the cat worriedly looking up at the two humans occupying the sofa. You fiddled with your fingers, pulling at the fabric of your leggings.

“I took a test,” you started to explain. “Three nights ago. And my period was late, and it’s never late. And it’s not like we were careful when we…”

“Not at all.” Jason shook his head. You weren’t careful at all.

The room fell into silence again, the only sounds coming from the cat, now playing between his legs, unaware of the turmoil you’d just caused in his life.

“I’m sorry,” you said, resuming your sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no,” Jason kept saying. He turned on the sofa, sitting in a position he could easily wrap his arms around you once again. “No, Yn. Don’t be sorry. There’s nothing to be sorry about,” he soothed.

“Jason,” you called him, your voice broken. “How there’s not? I’m fucking pregnant!”

Jason held you tighter. But the truth was, he might’ve been just as scared as you were. A baby meant a new life, responsibilities. And he was still getting used to being an adult and the responsibilities that came with that. It was all going to change. And he had plans…

The two of you stood there until your sobs had quieted down. You didn’t know how long, but you were grateful he was quiet for the entire time. You were thankful he was quiet instead of telling you any of the things you’d thought he would. And you were also thankful he didn’t close his door on your face.

“Have you thought…” Jason tried to speak, but his voice kept on breaking. “Have you thought… of all possibilities?”

He hoped you understood what he meant, because he couldn’t bring himself to say it. It was a hard thing to ask, but he had to. He didn’t want you to think he was pushing you to it, but he needed to know if it was a possibility too. Jason remembered hearing some friends saying they had their girlfriends do it, that they basically forced them. But Jason would never.

He felt you moving on his chest, pushing yourself away from his body, and his breath halted. “It’s your call,” he whispered. “I’ll be there for any of them.”

You had sat back up, hands tugging at your leggings again while you thought. It took you long to answer. Too long for his liking. But he understood your pace, everything was happening way too fast. You needed to think things through. For some reason, his stomach took turns, making him feel sick as he waited.

“I don’t think I could do it,” you stated, staring blankly at your legs. “I don’t think I could end it.” Jason let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. A lightness on his chest he could not name. He nodded, as words didn’t make it out of his lips.

Leaning back on the sofa, you felt his shoulders hit yours. He let out another breath, it was long and you found it hard to read his emotions through it. He was silent beside you, making it even harder for you to guess what was going through his mind.

That’s it, he’s gonna tell you he can’t do it either. He’s gonna leave you alone.

“You just took one test?” he asked after a while. You just nodded. “We should go to the hospital,” he suggested, head turned to watch you. “Get a proper test, just to make sure.”

His suggestion made you hurt. The fact that he doubted you, the fact he thought you’d go to him if you weren’t a hundred percent sure, caused you a pain you did not expect. However, on the other hand, you knew he was right. You had to be certain. False positives happen, right? You could be wrong.

“Okay,” you agreed weakly, turning to face him after all. “I’ll do it.”

It might have been the uncomfortable chairs or the freezing air conditioning, but the time didn’t seem to pass. It was well over an hour since you’d arrived at the hospital, and you’d stopped counting how much you’ve waited for your test results to come out. They said between thirty minutes to an hour, but you were sure it had been longer than that.

While you remained seated for most of your wait, Jason was restless. He stood up and sat down more times than you remember, and he was seriously starting to piss you off with his pacing. Stopping in front of a snack machine, he put some dollar bills in it and took something with him before walking back to you.

Stretching his arm in front of you, he offered both a granola and a Snickers bar. In no mood to be healthy, even though your possible new condition sort of demanded that from you, you took the chocolate gladly.

Jason dropped down on a chair beside you with a huff, and took a bite of the granola bar with a certain annoyance. You were both tired of waiting, that was for sure. The agony you’d felt earlier had simmered down, but you too now sat restless, one of your legs shaking incessantly.

It was involuntary, but Jason’s hand on your knee made it stop. It lingered there for a while, fingertips gracing over the thin fabric and tugging at it just like you had been doing before. You saw his head move, and so did yours, catching his eyes.

Your expressions had been everywhere tonight. The whirlwind of emotions you had gone through justifying each and everyone of them. But this time, his eyes bore into yours much softer, sweeter than they’d been before.

“Yn,” he called your name as if you hadn’t been staring down at him for what seemed like forever. “Whatever happens. Whatever the results say. I’ll be here, alright? I won’t leave you.”

The sincerity in his tone made your eyes tearful once more, but this time you managed to hold them in. You gave him a soft smile, and you were really glad he was here with you now. Putting a hand on top of his, he flipped it over so you could interlace your fingers, caressing its back with your thumb just like he was doing to you.

It was then that your name was called, both of your heads snapping in the reception desk’s direction. Jason stood up and walked over, grabbing a single piece of paper before walking back to you with even taking a glance at it.

When he sat back, he offered you his opened hand. You intertwined your fingers, and held his with both your hands, taking it closer to your heart this time. You couldn’t deny the tiny bit of hope lingering inside you that, just perhaps, you were actually wrong. You weren’t pregnant. But, over the hours, you’d also grown accustomed to the idea. He opened the results with between his thumb and pointer finger, and both your eyes fell on the big letters found on top of it.

Positive. Again. It was positive. You were truly pregnant.

You let out a sigh, closing your eyes to stop the tears from returning. Jason’s hold on you tightened, and you could sense the tension on him returning. He buffed some air out through his mouth, taking another deep breath before doing the same thing again.

“That’s it,” his voice was shaky. “You’re really pregnant.” He forced himself to smile, and you tried to do the same. To no avail. His eyebrows furrowed. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” you replied honestly. “I just wanna go home. It’s been a long night.”

“Okay,” he said softly, standing up and walking with you hand in hand till you left the hospital.

The parking lot was almost empty, and you found Jason’s car sitting isolated far ahead. The silver Toyota Supra shone under the faint light of a lamp post, and you remembered how surprised you were to find him driving it. It finally occurred to you that other than his name and his gym membership, you knew nothing about the man you were about to have a baby with.

He didn’t know you either. Gosh, you didn’t know a thing at this point. About him, about pregnancy, about babies and having children. He asked you ‘what now?’ and you didn’t even have an answer. How the hell were you going to do it?

When he felt your fingers leaving his, Jason immediately turned to face you. Frozen in place and flooded eyes.

“I don’t think I can do it,” you said breathlessly. “Jason, I don't think I can do it. I never wanted kids. I mean, I’ve never really thought about it. I didn’t want it now. I wanted to do it all right. This is not it.” You cried once again, rambling the words that left your mouth. Jason had walked over to you, trying to calm you down and wipe the tears off your face. “I don’t know anything about babies. I’ve only babysat before, but they were much older. And even my nephew, I didn’t meet him until he was, like, six months old. And I don’t know shit about pregnancies. I hated biology. I slept a lot during classes.”

“How can we do it? I barely know you. Gosh I don’t even know your surname, Jason. You’re what, Jason fucking Linetti? How can we have a baby together without knowing each other? We’re supposed to build a family together. A family. My family… I-I never had a family. Not really. I didn’t want a family, Jason. Not now. I don’t think I can do it.”

“Hey, hey,” he cooed, stopping your rambling. He cupped your cheeks with both his hands, holding your face. His forehead rested on yours, forcing you to stare him in the eyes. “I also don’t know what the fuck I’m gonna do. For fucks sake, Yn. But we have time. The baby is not gonna come tomorrow. We’ll figure things out. Together. We have each other, alright? You have me. I’ll be here, with you, all along. You don’t have to worry. We’ll learn how to do this together, and with time. Okay?”

Jason’s dark eyes passed you enough confidence to have you thinking that, maybe, possibly, he was right. You could actually do it. The baby isn’t coming tomorrow, you have time. You’ll figure things out. With Jason. Together.

Slowly, you nodded. You could do it, right?

Jason sighed, relieved you actually believed him, because as of right now, he himself was struggling to do so. Giving your head a long kiss, he pulled you into a hug before pulling away to open his car door to you to enter. Dropping on the driver seat beside you, you desperately waited to get back home.

“I’m Jason Peter Todd. I’m 22 years old. A leo. I work as an exercise physiologist, but I want to be a doctor someday. So I’m working on getting into med school soon. I love motorcycles, they are fucking cool and driving them makes me feel free. I have probably over twenty tattoos and my favorite book is probably Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen.”

“What was that for?” You gave him an amused smile.

“You said you didn’t know me or my surname. Now you do, and you can say you know a little. If you want my social security number too, it’s 108…”

“It’s okay,” you laughed, softly, for the first time in three days. “I guess knowing your surname is fine for now.”

He gave you a smile, but raised one eyebrow at you. Confused, you frowned, trying to understand what he meant until he pointed at you with his head, leading you to do the same as he did.

“Okay,” you started. “I’m Yn Sn. I work at Runaway Magazine as Sandra’s assistant, but I really want to be a journalist. I don’t have any tattoos because I’m afraid of needles, and I can’t choose a favorite book because I like too many.”

“Nice to meet you Yn Sn,” he greeted, extending his hand for you to shake.

“Nice to meet you too, Jason Todd. Now can you please take me home. I’m exhausted.”

“Alright,” he gave you a smirk. “Do you remember the address this time?”

He insisted on walking you to your door, wanting to make sure you actually got home safe. You didn’t know where he thought you could disappear to between the sidewalk and your apartment door, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t starting to enjoy his company.

The elevator ride was silent, and neither of you spoke as you tried to unlock your front door.

“Thank god,” you said. Relief spread through you as the door opened and you got into your home. Immediately taking off your sneakers, you placed them by the door so they could keep it open for you. Looking back at Jason, who still didn’t dare step inside your apartment, you managed to give him a thankful smile. “And thank you too, Jason.”

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s not even the least I can do, it’s my responsibility now.”

“But still, thank you. There were many ways out for you, and you took none,” you explained, resting your shoulder on the door frame.

“Yn, you didn’t make this baby alone” he began. “I saw your state when you knocked on my door, and I also made you a promise. I don’t usually break them.”

For a brief minute, you two stood in silence again. Eyes lingering over each other. A recognizable tension in the air. You averted your eyes from him, as warmth engulfed your cheeks, the painted nails on your toes suddenly a lot more interesting to you.

“I’ll be going then. Call me if you need anything, alright?” he said, already halfway to the elevator.

“Jason,” you called and he turned back. Hopeful. “Do you even have my number?”

He stopped to think, and a dumb smile appeared on his face upon realizing he had never asked you for your number, nor did he ever give you his. Taking his phone out of his sweatpants pockets, he handed it to you. “If you don’t mind. I think I really should have your number.” He combed a hand through his hair.

You typed in your phone number, trying to think of what to write your name as, but concluding your name would be just fine. You gave yourself a call so you could save his too later, and returned him his cellphone.

He awkwardly waved you goodbye, and called the elevator that opened up instantly, not having left your floor since you had gotten home. You watched him as the door began to close, head hanging low and a tired demeanor.

“Jason?” you called again, and he put his hand on the door just as it was about to fully close. It opened again, and he placed his hands on each side of the door frame. “Thank you,” you said softly.

“Stop thanking me,” he laughed and now allowed the door to close.

You stood there, dumbfoundedly watching the closed door as you swiftly repeated the entire night in your head. Every moment of pain, despair and torture morphing into nervous expectation of the future that was about to come.

You didn’t allow yourself to think too much about it. An entire day was already enough, you needed rest.

A rumbling beside you grabbed your attention, and your head turned to your friend’s door. Nessie poked her head out, clearly surprised to see you there.

“Weren’t you on a trip?” she asked, and you shook your head, leaving her a lot more confused.

“There’s so much we need to talk,” you sighed, allowing your weight to fall on her as you engulfed her in a tight hug.

tag list: @igotanidea ; @acornacreacure ; @erochuu ; @gone-batty-fics ; @jasontoddslover ; @jkvolgs ; @just-lost-inbetween-worlds ; @killxz ; @kysrion ; @loonymoonystuff ; @munimunni ; @novs9011 ; @spideytingley ; @starcrossedtrek ; @strawberryforks ; @sttrawberries ; @vanillaattack ; @veryfabday ; @vissavin @xxsweetnlowxx ; @willieoo ; @wordsfromshona

#jason todd au #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #jason todd #jason todd x you #jason todd fluff #jason todd x yn #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagines #jason todd blurb #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x female!reader

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heartshapedcigaretteburns · 3 months

Text

Ex!Gaz who's still in love with you:/

(Look at my handsome boy💞)

Ex bf! Gaz who never wanted the relationship to end in the first place but you just couldn't handle how little time you got to spend together. He fought tooth and nail to try and make you stay but it wasn't enough. When that doesn't work he tries convincing you to stay friends but you know deep down that wouldn't work out so you reject the idea.

Ex bf! Gaz who low-key stalks you. I mean is it really stalking if he means well? He just wants to ensure you're doing okay so he keeps tabs on you. Initially, he maintains his distance by checking your social media, but gradually, he starts appearing in the places you frequent, coincidentally running into you at the grocery store or gym more often than usual.

Ex bf! Gaz who worms his way back into your life subtly. Getting more involved with your mutual friends so that they invite him along to outings he knows you'll be at. In every group setting he manages to stay at your side despite how hard you try to get rid of him.

Ex bf! Gaz who is ecstatic when you warm up to the idea of remaining friends but he doesn't stop there. He's desperate to make you see that you're meant to be with him. He firmly believes that he was destined to marry you and grow old with you and he just doesn't understand why you can't accept that. In his eyes, you are his fate, his ultimate destiny.

Ex bf! Gaz who can't cope when you start going on dates with other people. Nobody else is deserving of you. You're meant to be going on dates with him, holding his hand, smiling at him. In his mind, no one else can treat you the way he can. Sooooo naturally he resorts to sabotaging your love life. He'll find a way to make every new potential partner suddenly change their mind about dating you. And when you get stood up for the third time, he's there to hold you and comfort you, offering solace.

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

You were convinced that this new guy actually felt something for you. Things were going great - you had been on a few dates and really hit it off. It wasn't anything like what you and Kyle had but it was a step in the right direction.

However, everything changed when he stood you up at the restaurant, leaving you waiting for 40 minutes without responding to your numerous texts. Finally, he replies, but the message crushes you.

"Sorry, I'm not coming tonight. I don't think this is going to work out."

Your entire body crumbles inward and you shrink into the booth as you process those words. You desperately tried to text back and ask what went wrong, but he had already blocked you. What a dick.

You apologize to the staff for the inconvenience, collect your belongings, and start walking home. As you left the fancy establishment, hot tears streamed down your face. It didn't take long for a familiar car to slow down beside you.

“Why are you walking alone so late, love? C’mon, hop in.” Kyle spoke with a caring tone that both comforted and hurt you.

As much as you wish he wasn't so comforting, you find solace in his presence. You felt disappointed, frustrated, humiliated, and above all, unlovable. It's only natural you fall into his reassuring company.

You allow yourself to get into his car and let him drive you home while you sob pathetically and pour your little heart out. You're not even certain he can understand you with the intense blubbering you're doing but he can, he always can. He listens to you vent to him, gently rubbing your exposed thigh until you get it all out.

“God am I just not desirable enough? It seems like nobody wants me." You cried softly, your voice hoarse.

He pulls into the driveway of what used to be your shared house.

“You're incredibly desirable, lovie. Anyone would be lucky to have you, he's just an idiot. He doesn't deserve you anyways." Kyle reassures you as he guides you inside to show you just how desirable you truly are.

Okay this idea I've been toying with in my brain a lot lately and I think I executed it pretty well but let me know what you guys think. Hope you enjoyed! Ignore spelling and grammar errors though 😽😽😽

#cod fanfic #kyle gaz garrick #cod x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #john price x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #ghost cod #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle garrick #kyle garrick x reader

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clu-ven · 1 month

Text

Better than Meditation

soooo I haven't posted in a very long time but I'm trying to get back into writing!!! (so pls bear with me xoxoxoxoxo)

Summary: you come up with an alternative (smutty) way for Crosshair to gain some control over his hand - based off S3 E08

Tags: SMUT, vaginal fingering, semi public fingering?? (technically it’s done in an isolated but public place), lil bit of plot + smut, smut, smut

Word Count: 2.8k

“He’s still down there, y’know” Omega’s voice brings you out of your thoughts as she slumps down beside you.

You keep your eyes closed, letting the rays of the afternoon sun wash over you. Pabu’s climate is one you could most definitely get used to. It’s inviting and comforting atmosphere makes you feel at ease, a sensation that has become rare since the rise of the Empire.

“Well, you know how stubborn he is,” you reply casually.

While Hunter and Wrecker are gone to meet some bounty hunter they know, Crosshair has spent most of his time on a secluded part of the beach, focused on correcting his aim. Everyone has tried to talk to him about it but unfortunately, that only made things worse.

Now Crosshair is more defensive than ever, determined to prove that he is perfectly capable of correcting his shaky hand by himself.

“Yeah but AZI said it might be some kind of mental block,” Omega sighs, subtly copying you as she closes her eyes too “if he doesn’t open up and let us help him, then how is he supposed to get better?”.

Her concern for Crosshair makes you smile, impressed by how she’s able to delicately balance trying to help her brother without being too overbearing.

The question lingers for a few moments before you open your eyes and glance down at her “And he’s already shot down your meditation idea?”.

Omega briefly mentioned the idea to you that morning and although you were sceptical, you encouraged her determination to help anyway.

“Of course he did,” she lets out a heavy sigh “saying he didn’t like it is an understatement”.

A comfortable silence grows between you both as you consider the situation. But before you can speak, Omega quickly becomes restless and blurts out “Can’t you try speaking with him? He’ll listen to you, I just know it!”.

It’s no secret that you and Crosshair were once close and you can only presume Omega has heard about this from the likes of Wrecker, who wouldn’t give a second thought about mentioning it.

"I can try but..." you trail off, hesitating to make a decision. Doubt clouds your judgement, stopping you from promising anything. After all, you know how stubborn and closed-minded Crosshair can be at times, especially when it comes to being vulnerable.

Omega's face lights up at your hesitant help. "Great! Sometimes trying is all it takes". She seems upbeat and enthusiastic as she stands “I was gonna go introduce Batcher to Mox, Stak and Deek anyways so it’s good to know Crosshair won’t be alone”.

Giving the girl a tight-lipped smile in response, Omega whistles for Batcher. With one last goodbye, she hurries off happily.

You wait until she’s gone before you sigh and slump down again. Although Crosshair has been back for a while now, the two of you have yet to have a proper reunion, leaving you both unsure of how to approach the situation.

Knowing you can’t put this off for forever, you begrudgingly get up and start the long descent down to the secluded beach.

The subtle change in weather appears to align with your mood, as the sun dips behind the clouds and a warm breeze begins to pick up. It causes the light fabric of your skirt to dance in the wind as if it has a mind of its own. But it’s only a momentary distraction as your thoughts swiftly return to Crosshair, focusing fully on him and the impending catch-up.

You and Crosshair were always close during the Clone Wars, constantly laughing at each other’s snide remarks, bickering simply for the sake of it and always trying to get a rise out of the other. Even back then, you knew where the constant teasing would eventually lead to… but then it didn’t.

Instead, the war came to an end and before you even got the opportunity to speak with Crosshair, the rest of the Batch had turned up at your door and told you that he had already picked his side.

Since then, you have been travelling with the batch. It took a long time to accept that whatever was between you and Crosshair was gone, whether that be a friendship or something more. That died the day the Republic did.

But in a strange twist of faith, Crosshair is back and so are your lingering feelings. Although, if it was difficult to confront this emotion before everything happened, it’s become utterly impossible now. Neither of you have mentioned it and yet you still catch his longing gaze whenever he thinks you’re not paying attention.

When you reach the beach, it’s exactly how you pictured; Crosshair is alone, his sniper positioned steadily on a rock as he tries to shoot the far off target. A blaster bolt sprints across the water as he fires, missing his target by a few inches. You hear him mutter something under his breath as he tries again.

Flicking his chewed up toothpick to the ground, Crosshair notices you. “Yes?” He asks impatiently, lining up another shot.

“You’ve been out here all day,” you state the obvious “Omega’s worried about you”.

Crosshair doesn’t reply immediately, first firing (and missing) again before he turns around just to make sure you see his eye roll. “Oh, is she?” His tone is underlined with sarcasm.

A huff falls from your lips and suddenly you know all too well why Omega was so irked after trying to help the man in front of you. Despite the scowl on your face, you refuse to fall into the usual bickering you once had with him.

“You know she is,” you sigh “maybe you should take a break, come have some lunch and forget about target practice for a while”.

He watches you for a moment, studying you the same way you’ve seen from the corner of your eye “And when did you become mother hen?”.

Scoffing, you walk closer, hugging yourself with your arms “Don’t act like that, you know you’re overworking yourself… Crosshair, please, you need to take care of yourself”.

The concern in your voice takes him by surprise but Crosshair quickly recovers as he mutters “Oh, so you’re worried about me now?”.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You bat back at him.

“You’ve hardly looked at me, nevermind speak to me since I’ve gotten back” he practically spits the words out.

You no longer hold back your glare “Like you’ve made any effort to talk to me!”.

“How can I when you don’t even look at me?” Crosshair challenges, his gaze unyielding as your annoyance fades as quick as it came.

Coming up to the rock he’s based at, you slide down against it to shield yourself from the wind. Crosshair follows suit and kneels beside you, waiting cautiously for your response.

Your tone holds a sense of sincerity as you speak, your words now free of any reservations. "I do look at you… of course I do," you confess with genuine intent, all annoyance and restraint vanishing within you.

“Then you must see me staring,” he almost whispers the words, watching you carefully “I thought you would have gotten the hint by now that I’m still interested”.

A soft smile graces your lips and as if taming a wild animal, you slowly reach out for his hand. Crosshair makes no attempt to stop you and you gently slip your hand into his before you tug him closer.

Settling his hand on to your lap, you begin to trace your finger up and down his palm until finally resting your hand delicately on his wrist. “Let me help,” you offer “seriously, Crosshair”.

“And how would you help?” Though the question almost seems backhanded, you know that’s just Crosshair being Crosshair.

The mischievous glint in your eye paired with the suggestive smirk plastered across your face doesn’t go unnoticed by him.

“How do you think?” you question.

He holds your gaze as if to challenge you to make the first move but you hold strong. This is your moment and you both know it.

A secluded beach? A chance for you both to finally reunite in a way you could only imagine? Both of your minds go to the same place.

You give his wrist a small yet reassuring squeeze and before you can make another comment, his lips are on yours.

With an intensity fuelled by pure need, he slams his lips against yours in a heated display of passion. This isn’t just a build up of years worth of longing for Crosshair. No, it’s much more than that. It’s an act of rebellion against the time he lost with you because of the Empire, both in spite of his own misplaced loyalty to them as well as his time on Tantiss.

The fiery kiss goes on for what feels like an eternity and yet the time seems far too brief when it finally comes to an end. The passion flaring between the two of you is intoxicating, causing you to crave more.

His fingers twitch on your lap, eager to do more for you. As if on cue, you both look down at his hand, your soft grasp still around his wrist.

“You have to be calm, be able to stay consistent with your shots if you want to hit the target, right?” you ask, trying not to smirk when you see his sudden confusion.

In a moment like this, you seriously decide to give him some advice on shooting? Crosshair nods, silently waiting to see where this is going.

“Maybe you’re approaching this from the wrong perspective,” you suggest, noticing how his attention shifts to your lips “you’re focusing on your sniper abilities, looking to re-learn your techniques… but you need to re-learn how to use your fingers in order to effectively use your sniper”.

“And how do you propose I do that?” his voice is low, causing the skin on your arms to prickle with goosebumps. You can feel the effect of his voice in your panties.

With your free hand, you begin to bunch up your skirt, first revealing your thighs and then a glimpse of your underwear. Crosshair can’t help it as a groan escapes from his throat.

You guide his hand closer to your clothed core before Crosshair takes initiative and brushes his fingers teasingly against you.

He can feel the warmth beneath your underwear, feeling more assured in his movements when he hears you take in a sharp breath. But even with the small boost in confidence, Crosshair can’t help it as a small tremor courses through his hand.

“Take your time,” your voice is soft but firm in your reassurance “and if this is too much then we can stop”. Fearful that you’ve pushed him too far, you slowly begin to close your legs as you nervously fiddle with your skirt “I didn’t mean to push you so-”.

You stop your apologetic remark when his firm grip stops your legs from meeting. A brief look of disbelief flicks across your face as he spreads your legs to his liking.

“No,” there is no hesitancy in Crosshair’s voice as he takes control of the situation “you started this, don’t go shy on me now”. This time it’s your turn to nod silently.

His fingers glide down to caress you again, this time feeling the dampness from beneath your underwear. Each reaction you give, whether a sharp intake of breath or a slight quiver up your spine, only serves to fuel Crosshair’s determination. He savors these small responses, revelling in how you leave each reaction so bare for him to see.

Crosshair smirks “If this is how you react to such simple touches, do you think you could handle me touching you without anything between us?”.

“You’d be surprised with how much I can handle” you taunt.

Oh how he has missed how you challenge him. Your snarky response is rewarded with a kiss but before you can melt into it, Crosshair brings both of his hands to your hips and swiftly pulls your panties down.

The eager sight that greets him brings a smile to his face. Crosshair can feel his excitement growing but before he can get ahead of himself, he’s committed to take care of you first.

Crosshair teasingly brings just one finger down to your core. A slight tremor causes his finger to waver but after a second, it stops as desire overtakes him. His finger teases you, feeling just how much you want him. Before he can make another teasing comment, you pull him in for another kiss, unable to help yourself.

Crosshair is quick to take control of the kiss, simultaneously pushing his tongue into your mouth as he sinks his long finger into you. You welcome all of him, moaning into his mouth. Taking your sounds as encouragement, Crosshair adds a second digit to your core.

He pushes in until he’s knuckle deep, successfully finding that spot within you. Crosshair takes your advice to heart. He keeps a consistent rhythm, thrusting his fingers inside of you. He listens to each involuntary squeak and moan, adjusting his speed and pressure of each pump of his fingers to whichever makes you react the most.

There’s not a slight tremble in his entire hand, his attention solely on you. There is no room for nerves or doubt to creep in and cause his hand to shake. That seems almost impossible now, especially with you like this in front of him.

There is nothing but you and him in this moment, the rhythmic movement of his fingers serving as proof that he has full control.

He buries his fingers into you, pressing the palm of his hand against your clit and delivering powerful jolts of pleasure into your body.

“That’s it,” he coos at your moans “you’re nearly there, aren’t you?”.

A flutter fills your chest as your breathing becomes more rapid. "Y-yes,” you manage with a strained voice, your mind becoming overwhelmed with arousal “keep doing that”.

You squeeze around his fingers, feeling the tight coil in your lower stomach getting closer and closer to finally snapping.

Your body responds to his touch in the most natural of ways, your back arching and head bowing in a display of utter pleasure. Your hand instinctively searches for contact, grabbing hold of his knee as the overwhelming sensation begins to consume you.

Your legs twitch, eyes rolling back in your head and a rather loud moan escapes your lips as the satisfaction you feel begins to peak.

Bliss floods your entire being and the mixture of your moans and whimpers blend together in a melodic harmony. Every movement of his hand guides you through the waves of ecstasy, sending shivers through your body.

Crosshair hums approvingly as you come down from your sigh. Almost reluctantly, he takes his hand away from you and examines his sticky but steady fingers. “My hand hasn’t been able to do so much and remain so still since… well, ever since Tantiss” he comments.

Trying to give your shaky legs more time to recover, you fix your panties before you reposition your skirt. Stealing a glance at Crosshair, you’re glad to see you’re not the only one with flushed cheeks. You smile almost bashfully as you lean on the rock to stand.

Crosshair is there to help, gently holding your upper arm as you steady yourself. Despite the sass you gave him earlier and the bliss he just brought you now, you find it hard to maintain eye contact.

Clearing your throat, you try to regain some of that boldness from before “Well then… good luck with your target practice, I’ll go see if the others have made contact yet”.

“What?!” the sound is almost foreign to you; the sound of an utterly bamboozled Crosshair.

Pushing yourself off the rock, you feel his grasp slip away from your arm. You continue to walk as you turn around to savor his shocked expression.

“What about me?” he asks, trying to be inconspicuous as he gestures to the tent in his pants “I thought this was about helping me?”.

“Yeah, I know,” you reply with a smirk “you’ll get your reward when you hit the target”. With a wink, you turn your back to him and begin the ascent back.

Crosshair’s jaw hangs open as he watches you go, and he can’t help but laugh at your audacity.

#the bad batch crosshair #bad batch crosshair #crosshair x reader #crosshair x you #tbb crosshair #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #clone trooper crosshair #I just wanted to write smut lol #idk if this implicates that the reader has some magic... ahem... parts #but either way it sure helped Crosshair!#smut #tbb season 3 #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #tbb spoilers

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arc-misadventures · 1 month

Text

The Tutor

Juniper: Hello kids! How goes the tutoring?

Juniper opened the door to her sons, a one loveable goofball named, Jaune Arc to see the sixteen year old sitting at his desk working on school assignment. While his personal tutor, the twenty year old, Glynda Goodwitch helped him better understand his school assignments.

Jaune: Hmm, what?

Glynda: It is going well, Mrs. Arc. Jaune is still struggling with his physics homework, but he has improved drastically compared to when he first started.

Jaune: I have? Feels like I’m still dragging myself out of a muddy hole.

Juniper: Oh, don’t be like that, Jaune. Glynda just said so herself that you’re improving!

Jaune: But, am I?

Juniper sighed in exasperation as she listened to how defeated, Jaune sounded. Years of his sister’s bullying, and putting him down had vasty hurt his self esteem. But, just then she just had a brilliant idea.

Juniper: Glynda, I don’t suppose you could…?

Glynda: Improve, Jaune sense of self confidence? It’s not going well. But, I am trying.

Juniper: Just thought I should ask. At the very least give him advice better than what his father gave him.

Jaune: Hey! Dad’s advice is great!

Juniper: No. No it’s not sweetie.

Jaune turned back to his homework as he silently mumbled to himself.

Juniper: Well, I’ll leave you two alone. Good luck, Jaune!

Jaune: Yeah, luck will certainly help me with all of this.

Juniper rolled her eyes as she left his room. As she made her way down the stairs she suddenly stopped as she just realized she wanted to ask her son something, but she completely forgot to ask him.

She rushed back up the stairs, and flung open the door to, Jaune’s room.

Juniper: Jaune! I forgot I wanted to ask you…

As she barged into his room she was met with the sight of her son lying with his back on his bed. And, his tutor sitting on his waist, her bloused undone leaving her bra clad chest bare for all to see. She looked down to see, Jaune’s hands resting on Glynda’s dress pants as he was slowly moving up her hips. The duo had a pair of radiant blushes across their faces as, Juniper stared at the duo.

Juniper: So…

Juniper: How long has… this… been a thing…?

Glynda: A-About a month…

Juniper: And, you didn’t tell me you two were dating… You two are dating, right?

Jaune: Yeah…

Juniper: And, you didn’t tell me you two were dating because…?

Jaune: Well… she’s older than me… and my tutor so…

Juniper: Okay valid reasons. You were scared I would separate you because of that. Okay. Is this whole relationship developed around the bases of love, or lust.

Glynda: It was lust at first.

Jaune: Yeah, sexy hot teacher does things to a hormonal teenager. Hehe…?

Juniper: Wait does that mean you seduced her, Jaune?

Glynda: To be fair, he was just being a gentleman, I’m the one who shoved my tongue down his throat.

Juniper: I see… so is there any love in this relationship then, cause if so…

Jaune: W-W-Well I’m not old enough to give her a ring yet mom!

Glynda: Wait?! Are you planning on asking me to… to…?!

Jaune: Uhhh…?!

Juniper: Oh my~! Well, all though the age gap is a bit of a problem. I approve!

Jaune: Eh?

Glynda: Thank you, Mrs. Arc.

Juniper: Now you two go back to having your fun.

Jaune: Okay…

Juniper: Oh, and remember kids: Don’t use protection~!

Glynda: Don’t worry we will… Wait… Don’t?

Jaune: W-What does that mean?!

Juniper hummed to herself as she locked the door, and left his room. She will have to get him condoms anyway, she knew her son was a responsible man.

She just had to make sure they would work, properly.

#rwby #jaune arc #juniper arc #glynda goodwitch #jaune x glynda #glynda x jaune #rwby arcwitch

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jeannineee · 9 months

Note

“who did this to you?” is so az coded to me, i’d love to see what you come up with for that! i feel like he’d be so angry and hurt and torn between comforting the reader or absolutely going ballistic 😮‍💨

also i’m sorry you’re feeling burned out!! you’ve been putting out so much content so consistently and of course i eat it up but def take your time and take care of yourself! i hope these prompts inspire you!!! :)

Devotion

Azriel x Reader

a/n: based on this bingo card.

warnings: mentions of abuse, reader is half-fae, from the Continent, and was enslaved.

You thought you’d seen true fury.

The cold chill in one’s veins, the calm, dangerous quiet in a person’s voice. You thought you knew fury.

But now, as you felt Azriel’s eyes burning into your back, you realized you hadn’t the slightest idea.

Rage emanated from him, harsh and unrelenting. He took a few steps closer, as though he couldn’t fathom what he was seeing.

He was your closest friend, your confidante, your mate. You’d known he would see the scars eventually. But you didn’t think he’d react like this.

You leaned forward in the bath, hugging your knees as Azriel traced a finger down one of the larger, more jagged scars, almost parallel to your spine. You could hardly breathe as his voice—more lethal and terrifying than you had ever heard it—rang through your ears.

“Who did this to you?”

You swallowed. Once. Twice. “Az, it happened more than a decade ago—“

“Who.”

You didn’t dare meet his eyes as you told him the story; giving him pieces of yourself with each word. You told him of the slave camps that half-Fae like yourself were forced into on the Continent. Told him of the abuse you witnessed, the abuse you endured.

And with a shaky breath, you told him of the day you received the scars that sullied your back; tainted your very being. He listened as you told him about the young boy who’d been caught stealing bread from one of the Overseers, and how they’d chained him to the whipping post. His face softened as you told him you shielded the boy with your own body without hesitation, begging the Overseers to leave him alone.

His face contorted with fury and rage and other emotions you couldn’t quite place as you told him about how the Overseers chained you to the post instead, and how they whipped you until your vision went black, and you were certain you were dying.

But you didn’t. You lived. And the boy you’d tried to protect died anyway.

You weren’t sure how long the silence lasted. With you, remaining in the bath, Azriel kneeling behind you, staring and staring at your scars.

Finally, the shadowsinger spoke. “They’ll die. All of them. I will hunt them down and rip them apart.”

You didn’t reply. But the certainty in his voice told you enough. The Overseers would die.

As Azriel turned away to grab you a towel, you stood from the bathtub, water cascading down your form. You weren’t shy in letting him see you like this. The two of you bore your souls to one another long before he ever saw you naked. There wasn’t much more vulnerability you could show him. So you let him wordlessly wrap the towel around you.

His eyes now swam with gentleness and admiration. He pulled you tightly against him, and the tenderness in the gesture made you weep.

Azriel lifted you in his arms, and carried you to bed. You muttered protest about the sheets getting wet due to your hair, but Azriel ignored it. Instead, he removed the towel, and kissed every inch of your scars.

Reverence and devotion flooded through the bond as he continued treating you like his altar; each word of praise and affection sounding like a prayer on his lips.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #acotar headcanon #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #female reader #azriel x reader #azriel acotar #Azriel angst #acotar angst #acosf #acowar #acofas #Shadowsinger

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shadowandlightt · 3 months

Text

Of Nightmares and Memories /five/ Azriel X reader

Series Warnings: Kidnapping. Mistreatment. Cursing. Pining. Violence. Depression. Talks of suicide. Eventual smut

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four

They came not an hour later. You hid in your rooms like the coward you accused Tamlin of being. They didn’t put up a fight as Amerantha’s men, Rhys included, hauled them off towards the mountain. It left you in a state of dismay. Because with Tamlin gone, and the Faebane slowly leaving your system, there was no reason for you to stay here in Spring. You could easily run back to the night court and hide in one of the cabins your family owned. You could easily hide in the mountains and pray that one day Amerantha would meet her match.

Only you couldn’t bring yourself to leave. One day you tried, only to turn and vomit in the rose bushes. You then turned around and went back to your rooms and crawled under your covers. You stayed there and didn’t move for the rest of the day.

On the third day, Feyre showed back up. Much to your surprise, claiming to love Tamlin and willing to go under the mountain to save him. You rolled your eyes, but knew that love well. Because you would have given your wings if it meant seeing Az again.

“She’ll kill you,” You say from your spot at the kitchen doors, “The second she realizes you’re there, she’ll kill you. But she’ll draw it out, make it slow and painful.”

“Not helping,” Alis hissed at you.

“Who are you?” Feyre whips to face you.

You only smirk, “A friend. That’s all you need to know. Rhys might be your only hope.”

“Rhysand is a brute.”

“Perhaps,” You shrug, “But he wants out from under Amerantha as much as the next, only he has the power to make it happen.”

“What are you saying?” She questions.

“If he comes to you with a bargain, take it,” You tell her, “It could just save your life. Play his games, it might just save you from hers.”

“Don’t be a fool,” Alis said, “Don’t make any bargains.”

“Fine then, die and damn us all.”

“Why are you trying to help me?” Feyre asks.

“Because, dear human, I want to go home,” you said almost wistfully, “And I can’t as long as that bitch is in power.”

“Where is home for you?”

“The Night Court. But I’ve been held here for hundreds of years.”

“How old are you?” Her voice shook as she asked.

You only laughed and shook your head, “My age is of no concern to you. I’m not even sure I know it anymore anyway.”

Alis sighs from behind Feyre and gathers some supplies. you watch her carefully, wondering if she’s eager to send the poor human to her death, or if she hates the idea as much as you do. But you can only hope that Rhys will help her in any way that he can. You can only hope that he wants out as much as you think he does.

“If you ever feel alone, look towards the shadows,” You explain, “I’m not promising I’ll be there. But if I feel I can risk it-”

“Now that would be foolish,” Alis adds.

“Thank you, Alis,” I hiss back, “You should go, now. Mother knows what that Bitch has done to your precious Tamlin.”

The idea of him getting his happy ending made you sick again. The idea of him being able to be happy when he’s caused so much suffering….you almost couldn’t handle it. But if this meant Rhys and the other members of the Night Court could be free then you had to allow it to happen. You had to try to aid the young girl in any way that you could.

“Stick to the shadows,” You tell her, “You won’t get far once you enter, but always listen. And keep your wits about you.”

“Thank you,” She said in earnest.

You watched from the broken front door as Alis led her away. You weren’t sure you’d ever see the human again, but you weren’t sad to see her go. It felt like leading a lamb to the slaughter, but it had to be done. There wasn’t another choice. Not if you wanted to survive, not if you wanted everyone to be free again.

Each day you flung your powers out further and further, urging your shadows just a little further. They whispered back to you, telling you of what was happening under the mountain. How Feyre was dying, sick with fever and how Rhys came forth with a bargain. She headed your advice and took the bargain, marking her with a tattoo and a bond with Rhys.

Each day you tried to find a way to contact your brother, but you knew you couldn’t risk it. There was no way you could reach his mind from so far away, not with the lingering effects of years of Faebane still in your system.

You prayed that maybe Feyre would tell him about you and he would figure it out for himself and come for you once all of this was over. You prayed and prayed. There was nothing but silence. No news came. Your shadows were skittish, growing restless waiting for Amerantha to do something.

You lost weight from not eating. The lack of food would kill you eventually, and maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing. If Valaris parished and there was nothing left of the people you called family- no one left but Rhys who thought you were dead anyway…would death be so bad? It could all be over finally, and maybe the Mother would be so kind as to bring you back to Az in the next life.

Three months. A mere blip in your young life, but feeling like a lifetime nonetheless. It took three long months before you saw three figures coming up the road. They were moving fast, all three of them. Feyre, it seemed, was no longer human. Your shadows neglected to tell you that when they said she’d survived and Amerantha did not.

You made your way downstairs, towards the door which you’d managed to somewhat fix. None of them looked worse for wear, but you knew whatever Feyre had been through would stay with her for a long time. And Tamlin had the ornate ability to simply sweep things under the rug and forget about them. He would do the same with her.

She looked High Fae, smelled like it too. With traces of my brother. So small, almost undetectable, but there. Shimmering like the bond you knew they had. You wondered when he would call in his bargain, when he would take her away from this place and show her the splendor of the Night Court, the beauty of it.

“You’re still here,” Tamlin stopped, a scowl forming, “I set you free.”

“You set me free, perhaps, but I would have died before I made it back to my own Court. Safer to stay here until I could contact my brother.”

“That won’t be happening,” Tamlin said slyly, “Feyre, darling, why don’t you go inside with Lucien. I’ll be inside in a moment.”

Your eyes narrowed as she did as she was told. Lucien spared you a glance, pity swirling in his eye. It made a pit form in your stomach. You wouldn’t be leaving the Spring Court, you realized. You would be forced to stay here until the day you died, or until Tamlin finally decided to kill you.

Maybe you would make it your mission to push him as far as you could so he would kill you. Maybe then you could finally know peace, and not whatever it was that you knew now.

“I thought I was going to free you,” Tamlin took a step towards you, “But then your brother made that Bargain with Feyre, and made me look like a fool under the mountain.”

“So once again, I’m to become your bargaining chip?” I question, “What? Me for Feyre?”

“Perhaps.”

“I could mist you,” You hiss.

“Ah, but you can’t,” Tamlin laughs, “Because even after all this time, the Faebane is still in your system. You can’t even winnow, because if you could, you would’ve left by now.”

He surges forward and grips your cheeks in his hand. You yelp in pain before going completely still. You won’t let him have the satisfaction of seeing you in pain, or anything. He doesn’t deserve the satisfaction of it.

“You, little one, are going to be here for a very long time,” He squeezed your face harder, “And I’m going to enjoy finally breaking you.”

Little did he know, you were already broken.

“Go to hell,” You spit out.

“I was already there,” He smirked, “It didn’t take.”

“He’ll kill you once he finds out,” You force out, “And I’ll watch and laugh.”

“I’m counting on him trying.”

Tag List

@historygeekqueen @queerqueenlynn @wallacewillow0773638 @sstrohma @saltedcoffeescotch @hnyclover @thelov3lybookworm @maddybraps @minnieoo @witchymomfrien @mariahoedt @one-big-fangirl @amara-moonlight @st0rmyt @annamariereads16 @hunterksmith

#acomaf #acotar #azriel #acotar fanfiction #azriel x reader #azriel x you #acotar fic #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #azriel shadowsinger

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beomcoups · 8 months

Text

Middle Of The Night

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: ex-boyfriend!San x reader

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: lil fluff, angst, smut, fwb, pwp

𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: kissing, oral (m and f receiving), unprotected sex, carrying, doggystyle, swallowing, facial, multiple orgasms, reader is stubborn as hell

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 2.4k

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You are on an annual girl's trip with one simple rule: no men allowed. But it's the middle of the night, you are lonely and it so happens San is nearby. Maybe you will give into temptation with a chance of being caught, but it'll be well worth it.

𝐀𝐍: I was listening to "Middle Of The Night" by Monsta X and it made me want to write something loosely based off of it. Thank you to @the-boy-meets-evil for taking this up for me at the last night 💞.

It’s 2:06 a.m., and you can’t sleep. Your body is restless, your mind thinking of a million things per second, your heart beating fast as you hold your phone. You send him a four-worded text message, knowing it’s not a good idea. But your body wants what it wants. Can you come over? You set your phone down, pacing back and forth in your room for the weekend as you await his response. When it comes to love and stupidity, it goes hand in hand for you. San isn’t the guy that you can be with long-term. You’ve been there, done that many times, yet when it’s late and you feel lonely, he’s the first person you call. Your phone buzzes a few minutes later, and you eagerly read his response. You don’t need to ask. I’m on my way.

A smile spreads across your face, and you hurry into the shower, scrubbing yourself clean with your favorite scrub that smells like brown sugar and vanilla. You hastily dry and lotion yourself, throwing on a pair of jogging shorts and a white T-shirt. San was only thirty minutes away; you didn’t want to keep him waiting. You’ve done this song and dance enough times that you don’t need to get all fancy just to see him. He’s always liked you however you want to be. This is supposed to be a girl’s only week with your best friends from high school. You take an annual trip with each other every year, making a pact to travel the world together before you settle down and get married. You took care of the travel arrangements, Shayla was in charge of the food, and Gia took care of the entertainment. You might have booked this place because you knew he would be nearby on business, but you will never admit to that… out loud anyway. You peek out of your room, listening to hear if anyone else is awake; the only thing heard is the wind chimes swaying on the balcony. Thankfully, the rooms are nowhere near each other, so you can sneak San in without being caught. Carefully closing the door, you plop on the bed, waiting for the minutes to go by. You purse your lips together, trying to suppress your silly grin but failing miserably. He gets you excited like no one else can, and every time you want to leave him alone, one of you ends up reaching out to the other. You wouldn’t know what to categorize your relationship besides friendly exes with benefits. It’s complicated.

Your phone buzzes in your palm, and you swipe up your screen, sitting up quickly. I’m outside.

The anticipation of seeing him gives you chills all over. You sneak out to your balcony, looking over the ledge and seeing him park his car. He steps out with a white tank and grey jogging shorts, looking comfortable in black slides as you two make eye contact. His soft smile and awkward wave bring you back to the first time you met, rubbing shoulders with one another on a train headed to the city. “Hey,” you whisper. “I gotta sneak you in because it's girls' week.” San chuckles, knowing all too well what girls' week entails and how your best friends would have your hide if they knew he was here. You quietly leave the balcony and your room, tip-toeing down the hallway until you reach the door, letting him in quickly. “Hi,” his murmur melts you like butter. “I missed you.”

“I know you did,” you taunt, touching his lips.

Kissing him was like a forbidden sin, something you knew you shouldn’t be doing, but the instant gratification you felt was well worth it. Walking backward to your room, you clumsily open the door, falling on top of each other in the bed. Your hands caress each other’s bodies as you explore one another, taking off every article of your clothing. You look at him, remembering a deep affection you once had for each other that could’ve been great. A past that seemed so long ago, but here you are, entangled in bed with him.

“Is that a hot tub?”

You nod, following his gaze to the balcony, looking at the private hot tub that came with the master suite.

“Do you want to get in?”

You hop out of bed, naked and thankful that you forgot to turn it off. You slowly exit the sliding door, dipping your toe into the tub first before going right in. You feel San entering behind you, holding your waist as you guide him to the middle. The heat from the tub was no match for what you two felt for each other, the hellfire passion taking over your bodies. He grabs a handful of your ass, his slender fingers sliding to your front until they settle on your clit.

“You’re going to have a hard time being quiet tonight,” he says lickerishly.

“Oh yeah?” you smirk. “Show me.”

San groans and lifts you out of the tub, setting you on the edge. He opens your legs wide, wasting no time as he goes in on your hot sex, hungrily lapping at your sweet heat. You bite your lip as a weak way to muffle yourself, your hands grasping his hair tightly. He makes you feel so filthy and sexy, willing to risk getting you caught with his head in between your legs. He sucks harder on your clit, your arousal dripping from the corner of his mouth, and you can longer hold back. You call his name repeatedly as you ride his face, your release coming hot and heavy.

“I want you to cum for me like a good girl, okay?” He commands, slipping two digits inside your wet cunt. “Can you do that for me?” You nod quickly, your body tingling and legs shaking as he thrusts his fingers deep inside you. “I need to hear you say it.” He grunts. “Say you will.” San returns his lips to your throbbing clit, flattening his tongue against it, a trick he knew would make you undone. “Yes!” You cry out. “I will.” Your entire body shook from your release, your hand covering your mouth to hide your screams. San groans in your center, licking you clean until you can’t take anymore. Slowly rising, he kisses you passionately, your taste on his lips. “Told you,” he teases. You roll your eyes, pushing him off you and dipping back into the water. The combination of coming down from your high and the tub's heat leaves you dazed and thirsty. You tell him you will be back, drying your body off quickly before returning to your room. You throw on a T-shirt and sneak into the kitchen. Rummaging through the fridge, you settle on two light beers, surreptitiously shutting the door. However, to your surprise, you didn’t expect Gia to be right behind you, bumping into her. “Can’t sleep?” Gia yawns, stretching her arms out of her robe. “Y-yeah,” you stumble over your words. “Just grabbing a couple of beers to get me tired.” Before she could speak, you bolt out of the kitchen and into your room, locking the door this time. Exhaling deeply, you turn and find yourself facing San: wet, naked, and fully hard. He shouldn’t have caught you off guard, taking your breath away at the mere sight of him. It’s nothing you haven’t seen before, and you’d think you would be used to it, but the sweet spot between your legs says otherwise. “You had me worried you ran away.” You shake your head, setting one beer down on the dresser while opening the other. You take a couple of gulps before he takes it away, replacing the bottle on your lips with his kiss. His hands slide underneath your shirt, squeezing your breasts and rubbing your nipples. Your back is now against the wall, your body completely at his mercy. “Hey,” Gia’s voice booms through the door. You gasp in shock, and San stifles a giggle, with you hovering his mouth with your hand to keep him quiet.

“Y-yeah,” you croak. You see the door knob rattle, and you were sure your heart would drop to your ass at any moment, but you remembered that you locked the door. You sigh in relief, watching San stroke his cock in front of you. “I was going to watch Angel on TV and make some popcorn. Do you want to join me?” You would’ve answered no immediately had San not lifted your leg and slid his tip inside you. “Do you want to join her?” He whispers in your ear. “Do you wanna watch tv, or do you want to cum for the second time tonight?” San suddenly thrusts into you, making you sigh out loud. Your hand holds onto the dresser for balance, his pumps getting deeper and making you cream. He is sick for this. ‘You better say something before she gets suspicious.” You are temporarily snapped out of esctasyland, clearing your throat to sound as normal as possible. “N-no,” you fight to speak without moaning. “I’m gonna drink and turn on some sleep waves on the speaker. Have fun!.”

“Alright,” Gia responds. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

He wastes no time, lifting your other leg and pumping into you harder and deeper, your nails digging into his back. Your hips move in sync with his, your tight cunt tightening around his fat cock. You could kill him right now for almost getting you caught, but you’d rather fuck him instead.

“Keep fucking me like this,” you grit your teeth. “I need your fat dick inside of me.”

“With pleasure.”

He slips out of you, carrying you to the bed and setting you on the mattress. Before you could react, he has your head deep into the pillows, taking you from behind with your hands pinned behind your back. Thanks to the excellent quality pillows, your moans are muffled, but the headboard banging against the wall is not so kind. This is why you can’t leave San alone; he opens you up and makes you want to live a little. There is no bullshit with him, and everything is on the surface. It’s one of the reasons you fell in love with him, with his fantastic dick being too addictive to let go. He fills you with an insatiable lust that can be filled by anyone else, not that you haven’t tried filling that void.

“Oh fuck,” he breathes. “I’m close, baby.” Your nails dig into your blanket, your release coming quicker than you realized. A deep, body-shuttering tingle turned into shockwaves, your orgasm coming through hard. Tears of joy stain your face and pillowcase, your legs shaking uncontrollably. All you could do was whimper in the pillows, entirely at San’s mercy once again. “I’m gonna cum,” his throaty warning barely audible. “Come here.” He steps back, vigorously stroking as you plop off the bed and kneel before him. He grits his teeth as his load comes hot and heavy, coating your face and tongue. Watching him utterly helpless because of what you do to him fills you with deep satisfaction. His eyebrows furrow focused on serving your mouth with him, and you happily suck him until his legs shudder. Exhaling deeply, he pulls you up and kisses you affectionately, a lingering touch on your lips that you will remember for a long time. You wish you could say something to him at this moment. You want to pour your heart and tell San that you still have feelings for him. You want to quit this cat-and-mouse game with him and be with him for real now. No more games or sneaking in in the middle of the night. Maybe post-nut clarity will hit you later, and you’ll regret it, but at least he’ll know, right? “How long will you be in town?” San asks as he slips on his boxers. “A week,” you answer slowly. “Why, what’s up?” “Just wondering if I need to be on standby in case you text again.” You cut your eyes playfully, rummaging through your drawer and finding a pair of underwear and a facial towel. You clean off your face and prepare for a shower, but you notice he is about to leave. Usually, when you are together, he stays the night and, call it a force of habit, but deep inside, you want that again. If only you could put your pride aside and tell him how you feel. “Hey,” you saunter over to him. “Maybe at the end of the week, I could stay a couple of days, and we could hang out?” Your nervousness eats at you from the inside, but you power through. “That’s if you don’t have plans or anything, of course.” San ties the drawstring on his shorts as he contemplates your proposal. You already feel like an idiot, suggesting something more when he doesn’t respond right away. You have a virtual egg on your face now, and you just want to crawl into bed and hide until he leaves. “Yeah,” he finally answers. “I would like that. But you’re coming to me this time.”

The dark tone in his voice excites you despite the aching pain in your thighs. Noticing he is ready to leave, you peek out of your door, listening to see if Gia is still up. You can hear growls and shouting from the TV, and you motion for him to creep down the hallway, just passing the living room. Your adrenaline pumps as you get closer to the front door, determined to not get caught as you sneak out of the house. The slight summer breeze is refreshing, and the smell of rain is imminent. You gaze at San one more time, walking him to his car, trying hard to ignore the pit you will feel in your heart for missing him. “Call me if you want to do that, okay?” San murmurs. “I would love to have you to myself for two days.” “Okay.”

He kisses you goodbye, his hands cupping your face. It was the sweetest kiss you’ve ever had, your stomach filled with more butterflies than before. It took for the summer breeze to pick up for you to break you two apart, bringing you back to Earth. All you could do was smile as he drove away, going in the opposite direction he came. You aren’t sure what the future will hold for you two, but you are glad you kept your feelings to yourself for tonight.

#san fanfic #san fic #kvanity #kwritersworldnet #ateez fanfic #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez x reader #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez smut #san x reader #san fluff #san angst #san smut #atz fanfic #ateez oneshot

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clanwarrior-tumbly · 9 months

Note

“You’re scared…. and broken…” With, literally any of the Glamrocks after Ruin(preferably Eclipse and Monty)-

"N-NO!! STOP IT!! BAD GATOR!! BAD GATOR!!!!"

Hearing the terrified shrieks of a certain daycare animatronic, you were quick to rush into the garage, stumbling upon a rather frightening scene:

Eclipse, who reverted back to Sun, was on the floor as Monty's teeth were latched onto his leg, violently tugging on it in an attempt to shred what little remained of the tattered striped material. The gator snarled all the while, shaking his head around while the former kicked and screamed.

It didn't take long for you to figure out how to separate the two, grabbing a metal pipe and tapping it loudly against the wall to get Monty's attention on you for a second.

"Montgomery Gator. Let him go NOW!!"

Upon hearing his name, he let go of Sun and stared at you, shrinking away as you approached. With a huff, you tossed the pipe towards the furthest part of the area. "Go fetch."

As he crawled away, that gave you a chance to examine Sun for any serious damage. You kneeled down, frowning as the traumatized animatronic was whimpering at the current state of his other leg--arguably the only "good" leg he had remaining.

'Jesus..I can't leave these two alone for even a second..'

"Are you okay?" You asked worriedly. "Is your leg still functional?"

"Yes, but alas....p-pretty patterns are all ruined now..." He bemoaned. "No stars..no stripes...all gone. No more..."

"Sun, I promise I'll get this sewn up for you. But listen...I warned you not to go anywhere near Monty." You set a gentle hand on his knee. "Why did you go near him?"

"I....we just wanted to say hi! I-I didn't think he'd hurt me! He used to be so nice! S-Sure I might have called his music too loud, but he didn't seem offended by it!!"

"What he did to you wasn't anything personal." You shook your head, sighing. "He's not himself. He's gone...completely feral now. Do you know what that means?"

He was still for a moment, before shaking his head.

"It means he's not gonna know who you are. You all have been stuck there for so long that...he's acting on animal instincts now. He barely even knows me anymore."

"..so..you mean....he thinks he's actually a gator?"

"Exactly." You nodded. "And until I can figure out how to restore his original personality, we'll have to treat him as such."

Sun remained silent, his gaze wandering back to Monty. He was gnawing on the pipe. It wasn't much, but it stopped him chewing on anything else in the garage, such as the important Fazbear Ent. equipment you stole from the plex.

It's not like anybody was going to use it anyways.

"It's not fair to him...o-or me. Why did this have to happen to us?"

"..I don't know. I wish I knew why, Sun." All you could do was shake your head, feeling sad that you couldn't simply repair them both like nothing even happened.

Like they weren't left to rot in that mall for years.

Your exploration of it was still fresh in your mind.

While you couldn't track down Chica, Roxy, or Freddy...you were able to at least find Eclipse and Monty, convincing them to come home with you as it was a lot safer.

Eclipse was more than willing despite being worried about when the children will return to the daycare, whereas Monty just started following you randomly, always being at your heels like a protective guard dog.

He was your favorite out of the Glamrocks, so maybe part of him remembers that--hence he never attacked you.

Unfortunately you had no idea how he would behave around Eclipse, considering you just rebooted him after Sun and Moon were fighting for control nonstop. The two were in obvious pain with the lights being broken in the daycare, so you were lucky to have a fazwrench on you at the time.

But the strangest thing during your time working for the pizzaplex was that you never knew Eclipse even existed as a character. The company never talked about him, and not a single advertisement (old or new) mentioned him anywhere.

There was only ever Sun and Moon.

Regardless, you were glad to officially meet him and see his balanced personality--with Moon's calmness and Sun's optimism

Unfortunately Monty had some fit of aggression when he tried talking to him, sending him into a panic so bad that it made him switch back into Sun. Now you weren't sure how to bring Eclipse back to the forefront without doing another reboot...as that apparently caused Moon great pain.

The gator, as feral as he was, seemed guilty for what he did as he stayed huddled in the nearest corner of your garage. You could clearly see that he didn't mean to attack Eclipse; he just couldn't control himself.

"[Y/n]...a-are we monsters? Is that why nobody comes to see us anymore?"

Those heartbreaking questions almost made tears spring to your eyes, before you turned back to Sun, taking his hands into yours. "No. Neither of you are monsters. You're scared...and broken. But I'll try my hardest to put you back together. You, too, Monty."

"Grrahhh..?" He perked up at his name, dropping the pipe and crawling over to you when you beckoned him closer.

At first the attendant was panic-striken, almost hyperventilating even. But then he saw him abruptly stop beside you and was confused for a moment.

You smiled sadly and patted Monty's head, feeling what little remained of his red hair. "It's amazing that your mohawk is still attached to you, pal."

He chuckled at that, before looking to Sun and huffing. Although he couldn't speak anymore, the guilt was clear in his body language, something that was quickly understood by the solar animatronic.

"Awh, it's okay, buddy. We can still be friends!" He giggled, mimicking your gesture and patting Monty's head, albeit with great caution.

Fortunately, he didn't bite his hand off this time.

All you could do was continue smiling, being a watchful observer of your two (technically four) favorite characters who you were relieved to have rescued.

'Looks like there's hope for them yet.'

#clanask #fnaf x reader #five nights at freddy's x reader #fnaf ruin x reader #fnaf sb x reader #fnaf daycare attendant #fnaf sun #fnaf eclipse #ruin monty #ruined monty #platonic #hurt/comfort #angst/horror prompt

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buckysgrace · 4 months

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first of all i wanted to say ur fics r absolutely amazing!!🥹🥹❤️second i wanted to request a one shot with shy virgin reader and experienced gator & so one day gator comes over to babysit reader & her little siblings bcuz their parents r good friends and gator finds out abt reader and becomes obsessed with corrupting her innocence w smut ,, tysm❤️❤️btw gator is older than her by a few yrs but she’s def older than 18,,,she’s 19 abt to turn 20

First of all thank you so much! I really appreciate that! And your request was so juicy ughhh in love. I hope you enjoy!! CW: Age gap (reader is 19, gator is 27), inexperienced reader, fem receiving oral sex, virginity loss, unprotective sex

“Why the hell do you need a babysitter?” Gator questioned, following you into the kitchen as you began to ruffle through the fridge for snacks for the boys. You knew that your four younger brothers would just protest and complain about the vegetables, but you were only doing what you were told. Your mother had been insistent that they eat something healthy before you ordered pizza.

“I don’t,” You responded shyly, feeling like your body was buzzing from warmth, “The boys are just- they don’t listen to me very well.” You admitted truthfully. You usually hated when your parents went out. Majority of the time the house would be in a disaster when they returned and you were usually a frazzled puddle of nerves from not being able to keep up with the energy of all of them.

You didn’t know how they managed to do it, but they’d somehow convinced the Tillman’s eldest and only son to stay and help you until they returned. You were almost certain that this was worse than watching them alone. You’d suddenly lost your voice, your ability to think as soon as he’d entered the house.

Your parents were friends, close enough that you had at least one dinner with them a month but distant enough that you had no idea how to speak to Gator. It didn’t help that he was older, cooler with a charm that left you flustered like you were ten again. Most of your middle school years had persisted of secretly crushing on him.

You faltered as you began to spread peanut butter on the celery sticks, hoping that your mother hadn’t brought that up. You glanced up at him quickly, but quickly calmed your nervous heart as you noticed an almost bored expression on his features.

“Huh,” Gator leaned against the counter as he watched you, his fingertips linking together, “S’funny because I was told I needed to remind you about shutting off the stove, or something like that.” You felt your eyes widen, your lips parting as you quickly thought of a way to defend your previous mistake.

“That happened once.” You spit out instead, shaking your head as you stacked the celery sticks on a plate. You felt flustered as you thought of the memory. It had been one accident after the other with the boys, leaving the cookies that had been in the oven long forgotten.

“Are you not in college?” He asked curiously, setting himself on one of the stools as he glanced at the way your brothers had dumped out another box of toys. You did your best not to grumble in frustration, knowing that you would more than likely end up cleaning that mess too.

“I am,” You replied gently, “I go to the community college. It’s not too far. I like helping out my parents so it works.” You explained gently, knowing that there wouldn’t have been a way for you to afford anything fancy or out of state anyways. He nodded, looking a little interested as he brought a piece of celery up to his mouth.

“That’s sweet of you,” He replied as he continued to munch on a celery stick, “You’ve grown up a lot.” He mused, his eyes suddenly a whole lot more intense as you turned away shyly. You felt your lips curling into a gentle smile, trying to find the means to question him before your younger brothers were suddenly bustling into the kitchen.

“But I like green!” One of your youngest brothers whined, pouting out his bottom lip as he stared up at you in heartbreak. You sighed as he clutched at your skirt, yanking on it to keep your attention on him.

“Well switch with whomever has the green cup.” You tried to reason, giving him a brief smile as the volume in the kitchen continued to grow louder and louder. By the time you were finished speaking, you weren’t even sure that he heard you. You watched the way they roughly grabbed the snacks, sighing as peanut butter spread across their little fingers.

“But I want green.” Your other brother protested, clutching the cup to his chest like it was something special. You sighed, wishing your parents would invest on buying the same colored cups as you began to pass out napkins to your messy brothers.

“Hey,” Gator spoke up, drawing the four younger boys attention to him, “The same thing is in the cup, it doesn’t matter what color it is. You should tell your sister thanks.” He reminded them, raising his eyebrows swiftly as he spoke. You bit back a giggle, grinning at the way your little brothers turned towards you wide eyed.

“Thanks!” They shouted in unison before they were off again. You shot Gator a thankful smile, finally finding your own courage to meet his eyes. You liked the shape of them, how warm and soft they looked as he breezily returned a smile.

The pizza didn’t take much longer to arrive and the rush of tiny feet towards you nearly made you drop the boxes onto the floor. Gator was there a second later, grinning as he took them from your hands and held them high over his head where your brothers couldn’t reach.

You watched the way he set up their plates, his eyes darting as he tried to keep up with who was talking as they told him exactly what they liked and didn’t like. You stifled your own giggle, hoping that someone else realized what a handful they were.

“You can sit here.” He said casually, his lips curling into a playful grin as he watched the way you were searching for a spot to join them in the living room. You were about to protest, not wanting him to sit on the floor until you realized that he was talking about his lap.

You exhaled, your breath feeling cold against your tongue despite your body warming at his suggestion. You glanced away quickly, stifling another nervous giggle as you nodded your head in agreement. It was silly. He was just being nice, letting you sit somewhere rather than the floor that was littered with legos.

“Your birthday is soon, right?” He questioned softly, his breath hot against your exposed neck. You nodded your head shyly, suddenly feeling too awkward to eat as you gaze down at your lap instead of at him.

“I’ll be twenty,” You responded as you pressed your fingertips together, glancing at the way the pink polish was beginning to chip, “I’m excited.” You told him truthfully, liking that you at least got one day out of the year where it could be about you.

“Your boyfriend doing anything special for you?” His question caught you off guard, making your head snap up to meet his inquiring gaze. You stalled, eyes tracing across his moles and the soft hair above his top lip. You looked at his lips next, liking how pink they were.

“No,” You giggled softly, unable to fight the nerves that were bubbling in your stomach, “I don’t have a boyfriend.” You told him bashfully, hoping that he didn’t think of you as a complete loser. You just had a hard time talking to guys your age. Or any guy really.

“A pretty girl like you doesn’t have a boyfriend?” He teased as his fingers slid across your exposed knee, “How come?” You glanced over to your left, ensuring that your brothers were too busy playing to focus on where Gator’s hand was resting.

“I don’t know,” You shrugged your shoulders softly, breath hitching as his calloused hand moved further up your bare skin, “I guess no one has been interested in me.” You continued to speak, feeling like you were in some sort of trance. It was hard to look away from his eyes.

“You’ve never been with anyone?” He spoke a little lower, his voice slightly husky as your eyes dropped back down to his lips. You felt infatuated, unable to tear your gaze away as you watched the way his words rolled off of his tongue.

“No,” You replied shyly, not sure how to handle the way his fingers were pressing into your skin, “I’m pretty boring.” You admitted a second later, but wondered if you should’ve switched that out with sheltered instead.

“It’s sweet,” He responded as he drew his finger underneath the hem of your skirt, “It means you’re pure.” He mumbled softly, his eyes peeled to your face to gaze at your reaction. You parted your lips, your body feeling nearly too warm as you simmered on his comment. You shifted on his lap, hoping he couldn’t feel the way you were trying to press your thighs together.

“Oh,” You said as you looked away timidly, “I guess that’s right.” You replied gently, wondering if that made you more appealing to him. You tried to remind yourself that you were grown, that you definitely no longer had a crush on him. It was hard to follow through with those thoughts. You wondered if he knew how pretty he was.

He kept you on his lap the rest of the night, talking softly about his work and who he thought would make it into the superbowl this year. You didn’t know much about sports, but you clung to every word as his hand warmed your skin. It was nearly too hot, like the sketch of his palm would burn through your flesh.

“It’s bedtime,” You reminded the boys once you finally found the courage to pull yourself away from Gator. You shuffled the leftover pizza into ziploc baggies, sure that at least one of them would get up in the middle of the night to snack on it, “Go brush your teeth.” You reminded them a second later, giving your best stern look to tell them that you meant business.

The room erupted into a series of groans and complaints, but they slowly rose to do what you asked. They threw away their trash, tossed their cups into the sink before they began to race each other to see who could make it to the top of the stairs first.

“Hey,” Gator’s loud voice rang into the air, pausing the movements of your younger brothers, “Are you forgetting something?” He asked as he tapped some of his fingers against the back of the couch. You felt like you were stuck again, staring at the way his long fingers moved.

“We’ll get it later-,” One of them spoke up, trying to brush away the mess that you would inevitably end up cleaning later.

“No,” Gator replied again, “You can clean it up first and then you can go get ready for bed.” He stated, sterner than you would’ve ever been able to handle. You watched, almost in amazement at the way they listened to him without complaint.

You gave them fifteen minutes before you went into their rooms, ensuring that each boy was tucked in and actually trying to sleep. You liked having Gator’s presence lingering behind you as it seemed to actually make the boys listen to you.

“Um,” You breathed out softly as you met him in the hallway again. The lights were dim, but you were still able to make out the slight curl of his lips as he tilted his head to watch you, “Do you want to see my room?” You asked him softly, not quite wanting him to leave yet. You weren’t sure when you’d see him again, or if you’d be able to.

He looked at you curiously, an expression filling his eyes that you didn’t quite understand. It made you falter for just a second, before you were spurred on by the nod of his head. You moved first, slowly walking around him to the end of the hallway.

“Cute,” He complimented as he looked around your room, “I like it.” He replied with a grin plastered on his lips. You shut the door gently behind him, not wanting your light to shine into one of your brother’s rooms and keep them up.

“It’s not too girly?” You asked him softly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed by the posters you had decorating your walls. Still, it was the only place that you could be on your own.

“Very,” He said a second later, grinning as he turned his head to look at you, “But it’s very you.” He replied as he licked his bottom lip. You glanced down to your socks, feeling a little giggly that he thought he knew anything about you.

“Oh,” You replied gently, biting back a smile as you held your fingers together, “Thank you. I really appreciate your help today.” You told him truthfully as you finally found the courage to look at him again. He looked so handsome, you weren’t sure how you were able to look away in the first place.

“So if you don’t have a boyfriend,” Gator drew out slowly, suddenly making you feel small as he approached you, “Who are you wearing that for?” He hummed softly as he pressed his fingers against your elbows, stepping back just far enough that he could draw his eyes up and down the curve of your body.

“What do you mean?” You whispered shyly, suddenly embarrassed at the outfit you were wearing. You didn’t think it was bad. It was a pale camisole and a skirt that ended against your thighs. It kept you cool from the warm heat that your brothers stirred up in the house.

“Kinda short, don’t you think?” He asked you softly, his eyes flickering up towards yours again. You pursed your lips together, jolting a bit at the sensation of his fingertips touching against your soft sides. He drew them down softly, like he was tracing the shape of your body.

“I thought it fit nicely.” You defended yourself lightly, wondering if he could feel the rough way your heart was beating underneath his skin. You leaned a little closer to him, enjoying how one hand dipped further against the hem of your skirt again.

“It does,” He agreed as his hand fully slid underneath your skirt this time, “But it makes me wonder if you dressed up for a reason.” He mumbled, making your eyes widen as he played with the band of your panties.

“No.” You responded softly, feeling like your chest was collapsing in on yourself. He looked upon you, eyes flashing with the same expression as earlier as he slid his fingertip underneath your panties. You could feel your clit throbbing, growing wet from the sensation and excitement. You’d explored on your own before, but nothing ever felt right.

His eyes stayed glued to your features, like he was waiting for you to stop him as he slowly used his free hand to unzip the side of your skirt. You held your breath, feeling frozen on the spot as the material fell to your feet. He looked just as inquisitive before, like he was memorizing the shape of you.

He moved both of his hands to your camisole next, tugging it over your head before he moved onto your bra. You felt like you were in a dream. All of your late night fantasies were coming true. You almost felt like you needed to pinch yourself, just to be sure.

You moved your hands over to your chest, feeling very bashful suddenly. You’d never had anyone see yourself in this manner before, so exposed. You gulped down your own embarrassment, turning your eyes away so you couldn’t see him.

“Don’t be shy,” He grinned as he pressed your hands back down to your sides, “You’re stunning.” He mumbled as he pressed his rough hands against your hips. He squeezed your flesh softly, keeping eye contact with you as he slowly fell to his knees.

You felt faint. You were sure you were going to pass out. His eyes were hazy and warm, now filled with what you thought might be lust. It made your thighs press together, your thoughts stalling as all you could do was focus on his movements instead.

“What are you doing?” You asked him nervously as you pulled your fingers into a nervous fist. Gator’s warm breath tickled against the small amount of skin that was covered.

“Wanna taste ya,” He mumbled as he slid his warm fingers against your thighs, “It’ll feel good. I promise.” He told you truthfully, raspily as he squeezed at your thighs. He pushed you back suddenly, knocking you onto your mattress with a squeal.

He moved just as quick, crawling onto the bed and knocking some of your stuffed animals off in the process. Your lips were pressed into a silent laugh, heart hammering against your ribs as he slowly pulled each of your white socks off of your feet. His lips dragged against your right ankle, peppering soft kisses against your skin before he let both of your legs drop onto the mattress.

You quickly tried to press your thighs back together, feeling fully exposed now. He stopped your movements just as quickly, fully exposing you as he rested against the mattress on his stomach. You couldn’t focus on how silly he looked resting against your fuzzy blankets in his dark clothing, your mind only taking in the dark look in his eyes.

He turned away from you slowly, nuzzling his cool nose against your warm thigh before he pressed his pink lips against your upper thighs. You exhaled harshly, a tingle spreading up your body as your nipples suddenly grew hard.

Your body jolted at the feeling of his lips pressing against your sensitive clit. A warm, fuzzy feeling spread through your body as your head rolled back onto the pillows. You gasped, eyes fluttering as he slowly peppered his lips across your wet folds and clit.

You crooned, holding your hands above your head as Gator took a slow lick of your pussy. He gripped a hold of your thighs, keeping them forced apart as he lapped his tongue against your clit. He rolled his tongue against you languidly, creating more waves of pleasure through your body.

“So sweet,” He groaned against your cunt, his lips dragging against your folds as he spoke. You whimpered, your fingers twitching together at the need to press them through his slicked back hair, “You’ve got a tasty little cunt.” He praised, pulling away this time to look at you. Your eyes turned down in slow motion, looking at the line of drool that connected his lips to your pussy.

“Okay,” You moaned softly, unsure of how you were supposed to respond to that. He laughed slowly, flicking his tongue across his wet lips before he dipped down between your legs again, “Oh.” You whined slowly, back arching as his lips fell to your wet cunt again.

He kissed at your pussy, lapped at your folds and clit in a sloppy manner that left jolts of pleasure racing up and down your body. You wrinkled your fingers through your pillow case, holding onto it like a lifeline as he moved his tongue against your throbbing hole.

He licked languidly at your hole, tracing his tongue across it before he slid his tongue inside of you. Your mouth parted, a loud moan escaping at the sudden intrusion. It felt good, too good. It made your stomach clench and your toes curl as a bright light filled your eyelids.

“Gator,” You whined, unsure of what you were going to say as he continued to flick his tongue inside of your fluttering hole. He moved one hand away, moving between your legs as he dragged his way back up to your sensitive bud, “S’nice. Right there.” You spit out, grinding your hips up as his tongue flicked languidly against your clit again.

He slid a finger inside of you slowly, meeting the same movement as your hips. You cried out at the intrusion, your walls burning at the slow sensation of him curling his finger inside of you. You could feel your thighs beginning to tremble as you licked the drool from the corner of your lips.

He moved his finger inside of you slowly, allowing you to adjust while he moved his lips messily against your folds. His nose pressed against your clit, smearing your slick around as he sucked on your soft folds.

“Oh, oh,” You mewled in awe, toes curling as a strong sense of pleasure pressed heavily onto your stomach. You slowly felt the walls breaking down, leaving you squirming as Gator held you down tightly with his free hand, “God, oh God!” You cried out, fists clenched tightly into your pillows as you came roughly.

Gator groaned, his tongue flicked across your pussy rapidly as he tried to lick away the remnants of your cum. You whined, body vibrating from how sensitive you felt. He pulled away slowly, eyes dark and lips covered with your slick before he slowly crawled up the curve of your body.

He traced his thumb across your lips first, like he was memorizing the shape and curve of them before he moved his slick covered lips against your own. He kissed you slowly, gently as your heart continued to beat against your chest.

He tasted as sweet as the flavored vapes he smoked. You moved your mouth cautiously, trying not to focus on if you were kissing him correctly and instead on the throbbing that was growing between your legs again. Your thighs were still wet, matching the slippery feeling of his lips on yours.

His tongue slowly prodded against your mouth, parting your lips as he brought one hand up to your boob. He cupped your flesh softly, squeezing in his hand before he pinched at your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, feeling an unbearable amount of pleasure race to your clit again.

He twisted you onto your side, taking the opportunity to move you as he pleased as your mind was fuzzy with pleasure. He pushed one of your knees up towards your chest as he straddled himself over your other leg that was stretched out.

“Gator,” You breathed out softly, your chest rising and falling in quick spurts as he dragged his hands along your skin, “S’lot.” You admitted slowly, but didn’t want him to stop either. You watched with interest as he quickly shedded his clothes, barely giving you time to look at him.

You drank in as much as you could, from his broad shoulders to his muscular arms. You stared at his chest hair, noticing how it followed a simple line down to the rest of his body.

“It’s okay,” He mumbled softly, leaning forward to drag his lips against yours slowly. You melted against his touch, your body shivering underneath his touch, “I’ll go slow.” He promised, settling back just a bit as he wrapped his long fingers around his cock.

You sat up a bit, eyes curious as you looked at the way he fit in his hand. A shaky gasp rolled off his tongue as you took in how long, how thick he was. You’d never had something that big inside of you before.

You felt odd speaking it out loud, but you thought his cock was pretty. His tip was a nice pink, precum leaking from his slit as he slowly jerked his hand up and down the length of his cock. Your eyes quickly drifted over his veins, the way his cock curved and the soft amount of hair it rested upon.

“Just relax,” He mumbled, glancing up to you as he dragged his tip between your folds. You nodded your head, your mind feeling fuzzy as you fell back onto the pillows. You took a deep breath, soothing away your nerves as he slowly pressed his tip inside of your fluttering cunt, “S’alright.”

Your eyebrows knitted together at the intrusion, your lungs stalling as you’d never felt so filled before. It wasn’t quite as painful as you imagined it would be. Your walls fluttered around his cock, stretching in a subtle burn as he filled you.

“Oh,” You sighed softly, unsure if it was a gasp of pain or of pleasure, “Burns.” You managed at last, feeling like your lungs weren’t working. A soft groan left his lips as he leaned forward, his forehead fell onto yours as he reached between your legs.

“You’re doing so good,” He praised you softly, his lips kissing against the corner of your mouth as his thumb pressed against your sensitive bud. He rolled his thumb softly, pressing down on it gently as a spark of pleasure traveled up your spine, “You’re taking my cock so good, such a good little whore.”

You shivered underneath his touch, from his words as white hot pleasure traveled up your spine and down to your toes. His body felt too hot against your skin, his breathing coming out rugged against your cheek. You tilted your mouth up towards his, capturing your lips together in a sloppy motion.

He rubbed at your sensitive clit, making your body jerk as he filled his cock deep inside of you. You gasped against his lips, his tongue flicking over your mouth as your walls clenched around him. He groaned softly as he pressed down on your clit a little harder, making you cry out and your body jerk.

“Fuck,” He cursed as he pulled his head away from yours, his mouth parted in bliss as he stared at where your bodies were connected. You whimpered a little, your eyes fluttering at the way his cock was throbbing inside of your sore walls, “So pretty. You’re doing so good.” He reassured you again as he pressed his lips against the curve of your cheek.

You focused on the way his lips moved against your hot skin, how he peppered kisses and slowly licked his saliva away with his tongue. You pressed your hand against his sweaty back, keeping him in place as you adjusted around his thick girth.

“Feels good,” You whimpered, your hands mindlessly wandering down his spine on their own as you savored the curve of his cock pressing against the spot that made your eyes roll in the back of your head, “Oh God.” Gator groaned, his fingertips digging deep into your flesh as he pushed your leg further against your chest.

“Jesus,” He groaned as his tongue fell against his bottom lip, his eyes hooded as he stared down at where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt, “You’re such a good little whore, taking my cock so well.” He grunted, shifting back just enough that only the head of his cock remained in you. You whimpered, sure that he was going to pull away before he filled you in a rough motion again.

You crooned at the feeling of being filled again so suddenly, your walls sore as you clamped down around his throbbing cock. Your clit was vibrating as loud moans rolled off of your tongue, bouncing off of the walls of your room.

“Right there,” You begged him, your eyes fluttering in awe as you felt the tip of his cock pressing against your bundle of nerves. It made you gasp, your body stalling underneath him as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your wet walls, “Oh God, please, please.” You begged him, unsure of what you were asking but knowing that you didn’t want him to stop.

“Are you my whore?” He asked huskily against your ear, flicking his tongue out against your earlobe. You whined at the sensation, your body shivering underneath him as he pressed his sweaty body closer against yours. His flesh melted against your own, the sound of your bodies meeting filling the room.

“Yes,” You cried out, not caring if you were signing your life away. You just didn’t want him to stop, didn’t want him to pull out of you. You liked the feeling of your bodies connected, of his cock throbbing inside of your wet walls, “I’m your whore.” A whine stalled in your chest, stalling as Gator crashed his lips against yours again. His thrusts were deep and rough, jerking your body roughly across the mattress as he moved.

He kissed you harshly, stealing the air from your lungs as he continued to drag his cock in and out of your fluttering walls. You clamped down around him, your pussy squelching at his rough movements. You cried out against his mouth, quickly licking away his drool from his parted mouth.

Your body shook, stomach clenching again as you came around his cock. You mewled, your head falling roughly into your pillows as you clung a hold of his wrist for dear life. You could feel yourself spasming, your ears ringing as you moaned into your pillow.

He groaned, his chin falling into the crook of your shoulder as his thrusts became rougher and faster. He huffed, his movements stalling as he pressed himself deep inside of you. The sound that left his mouth made your stomach curl again, your pussy clench as his spunk painted your walls.

He fell forward, groaning as his hair slowly fell to the side of his face. You breathed in the scent of him, eyes blinking as you wished to get a better look at him. You whimpered as he slowly moved, shifting his pulsing cock inside of you as he pressed his lips against yours in a sweet peck.

You melted, sure that you were slipping into the mattress as he grazed his lips against your own for just a fleeting second. He pulled away then, smiling gently as he brushed his thumb across your cheek. You faltered, wishing you had something to say before he sat up on his knees and slowly pulled his cock from your cunt.

You whimpered at the loss, wishing that he’d stay inside of you the rest of the night. Your heart began to beat slowly, nearly defeated as you watched him stand. Your eyes drifted across his back, moving quickly as you drew in the constellations across his back. You wanted to move forward, to use your fingers to count and trace the moles on his skin.

You were quiet as he rummaged for his pants, sure that he was about to leave without another word before he joined you in your bed again. You stifled a sound of surprise, watching as he took a deep inhale from his vape. He offered it to you next, but you quickly shook your head. You weren’t supposed to smoke.

“Can we do this again?” You asked him bashfully, your tongue twisting awkwardly in your mouth at how nervous you felt. He chuckled as he turned towards you, wrapping his lips around his vape once again.

“‘Course,” He breathed out, a cloud of smoke tickling your nose as he spoke, “I gotta teach you all the ropes.” He mumbled, pulling his vape down just enough to kiss away your worries.

#Gator Tillman #Gator Tillman x reader #Gator Tillman x reader smut #Gator Tillman smut #Gator Tillman x fem!reader #Gator Tillman x fem!reader smut

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