Arachnid Anxiety

Arachnid Anxiety

Arachnid Anxiety
Arachnid Anxiety

You're Spider-Woman, and you've been tasked with babysitting Mayday. Maybe you have a bit of stress that you need to vent about, and Hobie comes along quite conveniently for that purpose.

Genre: Fluff, reader having anxiety, Hobie giving her advice, very cute, reader is a Jessica Drew variant, perhaps mutual pining if you squint, takes place during the movie but before Miles arrives to the Society, terrible british slang attempts (sorry Hobie :'))

Word Count: 2.4k

Arachnid Anxiety

Babies are hard to wrangle when they’re crawling up walls.

Of course, Peter B. Parker said that he needs a nap, just this once, and he needs someone to watch over Mayday while he sneaks away into the sleeping pods in the Spider-Society-System. Sometimes he and MJ don’t get sleep for days at a time, so you get it.

But Mayday is so curious, and you find yourself having to pull her prying hands away before she inadvertently tampers with things around Miguel’s labs and causes either a mass outage or a explosion or Miguel’s wrath. You understand why Peter is a little exhausted.

She’s a very cute baby, though, and you can’t help but coo at her as she clambers off the wall into your arms. 

“Who’s a good Spidey? Who’s gonna be the best of us?” You shake her up and down and she giggles, wrapping her arms around you. 

You instinctively flinch, feeling your Spider-Sense go off.

“Large statement to make. But I see where you’re coming from.” Spider-Punk comes up from behind you, and you turn to him. “She’s definitely punk.”

“Hey, don’t go claiming someone else’s kid as one of your own.” You joke, and Hobie scowls as he pulls off his mask.

“Don’t believe in claims. Or labels, for that matter.” He scratches his hair, looking effortless as he ever does, and you roll your eyes. “She is… who she is. Forgive me for using a descriptive word, Spider-Woman.”

“I get it.” You hold Mayday as she squeals at the sight of Hobie, and she motions in an uppy-uppy motion. She wants to be held by him, but he ignores her.

You never quite know how to feel about Hobie Brown. The Amazing Spider-Punk is revolutionary, known for being better than just his words– he holds himself to the very essence of anarchy. He practices what he preaches.

But you can’t quite get a read on the guy. You don’t know if he’s pulling your leg– or taking the piss as he would say– when he gives his bouts of advice while somehow simply being amazing through it all. He somehow knows what to say but he also isn’t the most comforting, and that in itself makes you drawn to him. He just happens to be kind of rough around the edges, and it’s because of that you know he truly means what he says. 

No sugar-coating, ever.

But you hate yourself, because you’ve somehow managed to fall for him. 

It’s not uncommon for Spideys to fall for each other. Peter Parker and Cindy Moon, Miles Morales and Gwen Stacy. But you know this is the one time it just wouldn’t end well for you.

You can already hear Hobie’s comments if he ever found out. He’d probably rebuke you even though you’d never try anything. Tell you he doesn’t feel that way and you’re delusional for potentially thinking that he would ever tie himself down. Spiders are meant to be swinging free and all that.

Even worse, he just happens to be beautiful. You’re positive that if Hobie wasn’t so anti-everything he would have stuck with being a runway model. His face is molded in a distinctive way that has you trying to catch his glance, even if he only looks at you with nonchalance, completely unbothered, not a hint of chemistry in his eyes.

It is with great displeasure that you find yourself wanting his bored attention anyways.

And so you’ve been swallowing your crush for the greater part of a year now. You’re sure it will pass like all things do.

Pavitr, as much as you love him, has told you many times about the “chemistry” between you and Hobie– and you have told him every time to fuck off. Not in an actual harsh way, because again you can’t help but love the guy, but because you don’t need false hope.

You’re just Spider-Woman. Another red-and-yellow suited variant of Jessica Drew, you might as well just be another Peter Parker. You know that’s not how you’re supposed to think of yourself, but it’s just how it is. Canon events brought you here, and according to Miguel, it’s not something you chose– you just happened to be there at the right time and place. You’re no Jess, who comes in on her motorcycle, raging heat and excitement on her toes– you are one of the many, instead of being exceptional like the few.

You’re not like Hobie, who is as far as you know, one of a kind.

“What’s on your mind, Spider-Woman?” Hobie asks as he picks through random tech on the desk in Miguel’s lab, taking what he feels is useful for whatever it is he does with the stuff. He’s never used your name, because he doesn’t know it.

You and a few other Spider-People have chosen to stay anonymous, for different reasons, and only Miguel and Margo know who you really are. Hobie has told you before that that’s pretty cool– he only chose to give up his name because it was easier to get along with people that way. Hobie knows there’s power in people.

“Just babysitting. Obviously.” You motion to Mayday, who takes this moment to thwip out a web and swing away from you– but you’re faster and you grab her back into your arms, and she pouts.

“Nah, nah. I mean that sour expression upon your lovely little visage, imbecile.” He pokes your masked cheek, and you find yourself blushing but pulling away from him. Hobie is like that– overly familiar and no real sense of space because he doesn’t care.

“It’s not lovely.” You retort, fully convinced of it because he has never seen your face, only your incredulous expression through the eyes of your mask. 

You think that Hobie is again being sarcastic about your unknown appearance, and because his back is facing yours as he searches through random shelves now, you don’t catch how his face frowns at your response.

“Disagreements about your anonymous-but-surely beautiful face aside– not that looks matter, mind you– you’re clearly miffed about something.” Hobie turns and crosses his arms, and it’s with a little embarrassment and comfort that you want his advice. Even if it’s kind of to do with him.

“Well, I guess, uh… lately I’ve just been feeling kind of down. Like what’s the point of all this?” You bite your lip, knowing Hobie’s feelings on nihilism. “I don’t mean like nothing in life matters, Hobie. I mean more that I don’t matt– I don’t… anyways, I feel useless. I don’t have anything special about me, I don’t really bring anything to the Spider-Society that wasn’t already brought.”

"Whoa whoa whoa. Nah, lady, you've got your priorities all twisted." Hobie pulls your arms, bringing you kind of closer to him, and rests his hands on your shoulders, making you listen. "This inner hatred stuff– that sick urge to feel shame and then blast it inside of yourself, all that repression, yeah? It's a crock of shit."

"Huh?" You and Mayday both peer up at him. You behind your mask, and she with her crocheted one. 

Hobie picks up Mayday, finally giving into her wishes to be held by him, and she immediately giggles. There’s a subtle smile on his face that warms him to you a little.

"It might feel good in the moment. It might even feel revolutionary." Hobie scowls, and scratches his jaw. "It's worthless. Notice, Spider, I didn't call you worthless. The very action is garbage, a visceral thing that brings no productive value– that's what they want you to feel."

"Ah, because then I'll never fight against the establishment, right, Hobie? I'll be too busy fighting myself." You say mockingly, taking on a fake-pretentious-Cockney accent, mimicking him, but Hobie gives you a chill look and nods.

"Now you're getting it."

"Aw." You slump and slouch and sit on the counter full of gadgets and gizmos next to him. "I know you're right, but… don't you ever get people getting mad at you?"

"You've lost me."

"Like… being so responsible." You roll your eyes as Hobie snickers and whispers the spider-mantra you all know so well. "Or just living by your own ideology so… efficiently. It's almost like a slap in the face to the rest of us Spiders. We don’t know how to cope, and here comes along Spider-Punk with all his personal assurance that even if things aren't alright, he'll make it alright for himself."

"Oi, trust me, it wasn't all that easy." Hobie sniffs and sits down next to you, holding Mayday close and then letting her go as she crawls onto the wall in front of you. "You really think I haven't had a bad day? I haven’t had my moments of self doubt, huh?”

“Uh… well. When you put it like that, it does sound kind of crazy.” You admit, and nudge him with your shoulder. “I didn’t mean any harm, Hobie. I just feel so… inadequate.”

“Just stop.” He crosses his arms and closes his eyes, and you feel that yet again, he’s somewhat unreadable. “Don’t think those things. You’re not inadequate.”

“But I–”

“Stop.” He grasps your hands, and squeezes them tightly in his own, and you wonder if Hobie has ever looked this seriously at you, his eyes soft yet firm with affection.

You’re in trouble, you think. Your heart is pounding and you’re really glad he can’t see your face.

“I don’t think you know how important you are.” He utters so quietly, in that very deep voice that has you leaning in to hear him better. “You’re not nothing, Spider-Woman. You’ve done a lot of good for your Earth-257, I’m sure, and that makes you something special. Like the rest of us– you’re kind of irreplaceable, right?”

“I guess.”

“Not ‘I guess.’” Hobie punches the side of your arm and you pretend to say ow, laughing a little. “If you didn’t exist, we’d all be poorer for it. Peter couldn’t ask you to chill with his baby, and I couldn’t be here talking your ear off.”

“But I’m not– I don’t really compare to her, you know?” You say without thinking, and then immediately squint at your own stupidity. 

“Who’s her?” Hobie is wary of how your expression is shifting. “Stacy?”

“Uh, no.” You inhale, exhale, and then decide it’s time to get it over with. “Jess.”

“Jess? Jessica Drew, huh?” Hobie smirks a little. “You don’t want to be adopted by her, do you?”

“More complicated than Gwen’s weird fantasy.” You shift on your spot on the counter, and pull off your mask after a minute of tribulations. “I’m… also Jessica Drew.”

You feel incredibly shy as Hobie takes in your face, wary of his every move as you feel yourself sweating, and he grasps your face gently, peering into your eyes and taking a look at your features, as if he’s really trying to remember them.  

“Huh.”

“What is it?” You say a little too defensively, and he shrugs. 

“You do have a lovely visage, you silly little sod. Even if it’s completely different from Jess’ face.” He laughs as you shove him away, covering your face in your hands. “No, don’t do that.”

He’s tracing your jaw, and he murmurs. “Maybe you could use a few piercings… a tat or two… ever thought about it?”

“No.” You shut your eyes. “I’m not cool like you.”

“Oh, shut it.” He leans in imperceptibly closer, and you blink, eyes open. Maybe Pavitr had a point that Hobie and you have something, because there’s not really another explanation for that look in his eyes. “You’re plenty cool, Jessica Drew. It was just a shit suggestion of mine.”

You think Hobart “Hobie” Brown is sweeter than you previously thought. You have half a mind to tell him about your feelings.

You and Hobie both look up, Spider-Senses tingling, and sure enough, Mayday is cooing from the ceiling– she leaps into your already waiting arms. She giggles at your expression.

Oh well, you think. There’ll be some other time to work up the courage to tell him.

Hobie half-smirks at her. “Way to interrupt us, Mayday.”

She looks at him all confused, tilting her head in a “huh?” motion, and you feel the same way, not entirely sure what Hobie meant by that and not willing to assume either.

He answers you by pulling your face in a sudden, swift motion, connecting his lips to yours, and in between the two of you, Mayday shrieks and laughs. She crawls off to the side of you, no longer smothered between your torsos.

Hobie is weirdly insistent– you feel like he’s been wanting to do this for a while, maybe longer than the length of your conversation (you don’t know if this is just a funny little fling for him, but you’re fairly sure it isn’t) and he’s a lot taller and lankier than you, so he really has to tower over you to reach your mouth better. He’s grasping your jaw and neck and the back of your head with a lot of intensity– you feel wildly dizzy when he pulls away.

“Uh.” Peter B. Parker is standing in front of you both, mouth wide open, and you look back at Hobie and he grins rather coolly, not really giving a damn. It’s enough to make you snort. “Wait, who are you?”

“Oh. Spider-Woman from Earth 257.” You remember Peter has never seen your face, either. “Jessica Drew?”

“Right, right.” Peter raises his hands in a whoop-de-doo motion, like he should’ve known that. “Nice to know what you look like behind the mask. Not nice to know that you’ve been avoiding your babysitting duties. Why are you two fooling around like prepubescent children? What happened to responsibility?”

“Ahhhhh, please, Peter. Live a little.” Hobie stands up, his full length of height drawing him to about the same height as Peter if not an inch taller. He picks up Mayday and hands her off to him. “Let’s not act as if you and MJ weren’t shacking up in the sleeping pods last week, yeah? Does Miguel need to know about how irresponsible you were?”

You think he’s kidding, but Peter pales and you clap your hands over your mouth, trying not to laugh. Miguel would absolutely throw a fit if he found that out.

“Uh…” Peter swallows. “At least that’s not an interdimensional tragedy-in-the-making like you two.”

“There’s no rules against that, I don’t think.” Hobie shrugs. “And if there are, fuck them. Miguel doesn’t know it all.”

“He really is punk to the very end.” Peter groans and leaves out to the hallway with Mayday. 

Hobie flashes a smile at you as he sits back down, ruffling your hair.

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4 months ago

Don’t Call Me Angel

Don’t Call Me Angel
Don’t Call Me Angel
Don’t Call Me Angel

castiel x demon!reader

2.3k | slight angst, fluff, fem pronouns

summary: stupid crowley had to send you to help the winchesters instead of going himself. the two brothers were a headache as it is, but the mix of their obnoxious yet very hot angel wasn’t making it any better.

Don’t Call Me Angel

hell had gone to, well hell. and you weren’t planning on staying long enough to see it all fall to shit.

from what you’ve heard, the demon abbadon had gotten into the 21st century through some time portal, those stupid winchester’s were using that pesky demon tablet to close the gates of hell, and you were fully prepared to pack all your stuff and get the hell out of dodge as soon as possible.

but of course, right as you were about to grab your things and high tail it to europe, crowley called on you and demanded you go to earth and assist the winchesters. you certainly didn’t want to, but with abbadon vying after crowley’s thrown, the older demon seemed to be a lot more crabby, and you really didn’t want to get on his bad side.

so instead of relaxing on a beach in italy, you found yourself knocking on the winchesters motel door, bag in hand and scowl even more evident on your face.

sam and dean weren’t too fond on you helping out. that stupid demon blade had been thrusted at you, put to your neck, and almost jammed into your gut before you grumbled about crowley’s involvement and how he wanted you to help.

“are you kidding?” dean exasperated, slowly dropping the demon blade while still keeping a close eye on you. “i’d rather the devil himself than help from a hell bitch like you.” you really couldn’t disagree with him. well, maybe on the hell bitch part. you were very prominent in the hell scene, being crowley’s right hand woman and all.

you agreed with the fact that you really didn’t want to be helping these two goons. you’ve seen the brothers start more problems then most, and you really didn’t want to be in the middle of it.

crossing your arms over your chest, you haphazardly leaned against the small kitchenette as your eyes followed sam’s slow movements towards his brother. “trust me, winchester, i’d rather be anywhere but this shit hole. but crowley asked — well, actually demanded i help you two. and i would like all my limbs intact thank you very much.”

“she could be of help dean.” you watched sam whisper to his brother, keeping an optimistic look on his face as he tried to convince the older winchester to garner your help. dean still seemed skeptical, so you tried your best to lighten the mood. “if it makes you two feel any better, i only went to hell and became a demon cause my stupid ex was a witch and cursed me. i never asked for any of this shit. hell, it was his fault for cheating on me in the first place-“

“jesus woman!” dean cut you off with a yell, throwing his hands up and slapping them on his thighs. “do you ever shut up?” his question was clearly rhetorical, but you seemed to find fun in pushing his buttons.

planting a smirk on your face and silently giggling to yourself, you watched as sam hit dean on the shoulder and give him a stern look. “knock it off dean, we’ve got bigger things to worry about. we should probably call cas.”

oh christ. how could you forget. for some time, the winchesters have had an angelic lap dog following them around to kneel at their feet. the last thing you wanted right now was to deal with any of those uptight, stick in the muds.

“you guys called?”

and here he was, ever the obedient little christmas tree topper. whenever the winchesters called, he was there in a second to help them with whatever they needed. it truly was pathetic on the angels part.

the second castiel’s eyes landed on you, he had his angel blade in hand and already half way across the room. the next thing you knew, he had you pushed against the wall with the blade at your throat. his eyes were narrow, void of any emotion he had when he saw the winchesters and now filled with malice.

“jeez, take me out to dinner first.” you grumbled, attempting to push at the angels chest to get him off of you. the whole thrashing and sticking blades in your direction was really getting annoying.

you could briefly make out sam and dean attempting to coax castiel off you. though in all honesty, you were trying very hard to not get entranced by the angels deep, blue eyes. you knew it was just a vessel, but holy hell. the intensity behind them darkened the blue to a stormy azure, and you were ready to close your eyes to get away from them.

“why is she here?” the angel seethed, moving the blade a little off your neck but not leaning off of you. “she’s an abomination, how haven’t you killed her yet?”

scoffing, you rolled your eyes and looked up at castiel with a dead panned look. “god, all of you are the same. abomination this, kill me that. it’s hurtful, really.” you could see sam and dean give each other a look. a look that screamed how you and castiel hadn’t been in the same room for more than five minutes and you were already a pain in their ass. it made you smile.

“okay, knock it off you two.” dean yelled, walking over to castiel and grabbing him off of you by the back of his trench coat. “we have bigger things to worry about then you two trying to kill each other. so suck it up, we’ve got work to do.” castiel just glared in your direction, putting his angel blade back on his coat sleeve as you stuck your tongue out at him.

the four of you all shuffled out of the motel room and into the winchester’s infamous impala. you couldn’t lie, it was actually pretty nice. the only thing you didn’t enjoy was how the brothers stuffed you in the back with castiel.

what you begun to realize at that moment, was angels had absolutely no idea what personal space was.

for heavens sake, the man was basically on top of you. and god forbid he didn’t spread his legs out so much. you could’ve teleported and already be at the location if it wasn’t for dean’s insistence that you ride with them; part of the whole ‘still not trusting you’ deal.

leaning against the window you cursed the angel out in your head. “could you move over? you’re basically suffocating me.” castiel just glared back, shuffling over so he could be as far away as possible from you. “oh sorry, i didn’t know the princess needed her precious space.”

oh you were going to throttle him. if sam and dean were listening in, they didn’t show it. actually, that’s a lie. dean was not making any effort to hide the upward tilt of his head, fully snooping in on what was going on in the backseat.

conjuring your nastiest glare, you stared castiel in the eyes as you made a big show of getting right into his bubble. “how do you like it now, angel? is this comfortable for you?” you were right in his face, and if cas was being honest, he thought you looked really good up close.

‘oh god’ he thought, shuffling back so he was smushed against the window. ‘i must be going insane. again.’

sorting his thoughts, castiel slightly pushed you away. he wanted you out of his personal space, but for some reason he had this nagging feeling to not push you too hard. not at all wanting to hurt you.

“you say that as if it’s a bad thing.” castiel’s remark was centred at the way you called him angel, and you weren’t an idiot to not catch on. “well it is. that’s the absolute worst thing i could possibly think of calling someone.” you had to admit, your comeback was lame. but castiel’s stare was starting to make you antsy, and you were itching for an excuse to look away before you thought something irrational.

smirking to himself, cas leaned in towards you, watching as your breath caught in your throat and your eyes widened. “alright then, angel.” his smile stayed plastered on his face as your wide eyed stare turned into a scowl, realization of what he just did dawning on your face.

words coming out through grit teeth, you clenched your hands into fists as to not launch yourself onto castiel and attack him. “don’t call me that.”

cas couldn’t even send another jab before sam’s loud huff could be heard throughout the car. “would you two quit it? it’s a small space and i really don’t want to hear bickering for the next five hours.” for once in your life you were agreeing with a winchester. there was still a long way to go till you made it to your destination and you really didn’t want to spend it getting a headache from castiel’s irritating voice.

dean on the other hand was a little bummed. the argument was starting to get interesting, and he had a bet going on with himself that you two would be so angry at each other, you’d end up making out by the end of the night.

so that’s why as you rolled into the town abbadon was supposed to be visiting, dean made sure to team up with sam so you and castiel had some time alone. there were protests, but dean wanted to prove a point. even if the point to prove was for himself.

the two of you stayed silent as you walked down the cities streets, both eyes alert for any threats while also staying as far away from each other as possible. he was just so infuriating. if it wasn’t for his quite pleasant face, then you would’ve already punched him.

“could you breathe any louder? abbadon could probably hear you from a mile away.” okay you took it back, you really were going to punch him. you just settled with an eye role though, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned your head to look at the angel. “oh yeah, sure. like your annoying voice didn’t alert her from the next state over.”

you could tell that castiel had reached his limit. his breathing was unsteady and the man looked like he was about to blow a gasket. it all made your smile brighten. “i don’t know why crowley sent you to help. you’re nothing but dead weight, angel. going to get the winchester’s killed at this rate.” your breathing was matching his now; unsteady and like you were about to pop a lung. how dare he talk about you like you weren’t an extraordinary fighter? like you weren’t one of crowley’s greatest asset in a battle. 

raising your arm, about to swing back and punch the angel, you narrowed your eyes as your words came out in mumbled seething’s. “i swear to god, i ought to kill you-“ you don’t have time to finish, for castiel had grabbed you around the crook of your elbow and spun you into the nearest alley. his body had eclipsed yours, hand over your mouth while the other supported himself on the wall by your waist.

the shock was evident on your face, eyes wide and lips parted behind castiel’s surprisingly large palm. when you attempted to push him off, the angel just propped his knee between your legs, pushing you farther into the wall.

leaning in so his lips ghosted your ear, cas whispered so lightly you swore you didn’t hear it. “don’t move.” me mumbled, moving his hand on the wall so it was wrapped tightly around your middle. “i saw abbadon and a couple of her men. they’re heading towards sam and dean.” in all honesty you weren’t really listening. all you were focused on was the feeling of castiel’s breath on your neck and his arm wrapped so tightly around your waist that his palm was pressed on your lower stomach.

you slightly nodded your head, indicating that you understood what he was talking about and that he could get his hand off your mouth. when castiel did, you couldn’t help but quip out one more little comment. “well, isn’t this romantic-“

again, you couldn’t finish your sentence. but this time instead of it being his hand, castiel shut you up by smashing his lips onto yours. you were stunned, not knowing what to do or how to react. the hand that wasn’t around your waist wound in your hair, grabbing a handful and using it to pull your head back so he could get better access.

no lie could come to your mind our out of your mouth at the moment. castiel was a good kisser, and you’d be damned if you didn’t let yourself enjoy this moment.

your hands went to his back as you grabbed fist fulls of his trench coat, hands pawing and sliding up to the nape of his neck as you tried to ground yourself and not go absolutely crazy. obviously, some of abbadon’s cronies were still walking by as you spoke, and castiel clearly couldn’t think of a better way to shut you up.

not that you were complaining.

when he finally pulled away, puffs of air came pouring out of your lips as you tried to catch your breath. castiel seemed unfazed though. his hand was still tangled in your hair and his face was still exceptionally close to yours, lips parted and swollen as his tongue darted out to lick their surface.

moving even closer so your lips were touching, castiel breathed out his last sentence before hungrily attaching his lips back to yours. “god, do you ever shut up angel?”

you knew that whatever threat he was trying to hide from was gone now. not like you cared, and it didn’t seem like cas did either. now he just wanted to kiss your lips until you were rendered speechless, and there was no way in hell you were going to stop him.

Don’t Call Me Angel
1 year ago
 ◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

 ◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟒: 𝐄𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 | 18+ | 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

◦ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐦! 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐜 𝐒𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐫 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Warning: edging, teasing, sex! toy (vibrator!), pussy eating, soft dom marc, overstimulation

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫-𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

 ◇ 𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐭𝐜𝐨𝐫𝐞 ◇

You really wish you hadn’t tried getting back at Marc. Teasing him never went well for you, it always ended you up in the position you were in at the moment.

Your wrists were tied to the headboard with your legs spread, marc between your thighs with your legs above his shoulders. He wasn’t fucking you with his fingers or eating you out. He was holding a vibrator to your acing clit, circle it softly then pulling back as soon as he saw your legs shake.

“Told you honey, right before we walked out that door didn’t I?” Marc cooed. You whined in agony as your pussy pulsed and dripped in need. He’d been at it for who knows how long.

You went out with Marc tonight, the late night bar date was going well until you told him to look under the table. Marc’s body tensed as he saw you wearing no panties, just the thin fabric of the dress hiding what’s his from the world.

Now you were here, tied up and being edged for the past 30 minutes. “I- I’m sorry” you choked out as Marc ran the warm silicone up your sticky folds. The sound of the vibration and your slick making you even needier.

“No you aren’t and that’s ok, I don’t mind this” he mocked as he pressed the vibrator down onto your clit. Your hips bucked up in the air as you squeezed your eyes shut and focused on the pleasure.

You felt the knot getting tighter and tighter as he slowly circled the toy into your messy cunt. Marc smiled up at you, pulling the toy away the second he saw you too comfortable.

You let out a pitiful cry, tears streaming down your face as the edging was getting to much. “Ple- p- please Marc, please” you cried out.

“I know sweetheart, sucks doesn’t it?” He mocked. His lips pressed a soft kiss into your inner thigh, his hand moving the toy back up to your clit and dragging it through your folds.

“Think you’ve had enough punishment for today yeah?” He hummed. You nodded weakly with tears streaming down your face and body shaking. Marc turned the vibrator off, your soft smile turning into a frown as he threw the toy to the side.

Before you could get a word out his mouth was lapping at your pussy. His tongue working at your swollen clit that was covered in slick “mhm so fucking g- good” Marc groaned as he rolled his tongue around your clit.

A loud whine spilled out your lips as he bobbed his head and lapped as if his life depended on it. Your hands flew to his hair as you felt your orgasm wash over you.

The nerves in your body tingling as you finally got the release you’ve been dying for. Your breathy moans filled the room as he didn’t stop, causing your body to shiver and squirm under him.

Marc gave one last lick with a pop of his lips, his mouth covered in your wetness as he lifted two fingers onto his cheeks and collected your cum with his fingers, sucking them clean with a moan.

Both of you knew that this wouldn’t be the last time, and you were definitely not sorry.

4 months ago

Lewigi Mahoney x lewigi Mário super bros

#luigimangione


Tags
1 year ago

come take a dive

ship: finnick odair x reader summary: reader rides finnick's face. prompted by anon!! includes: afab!reader, gn!reader, slight insecure!reader (she's nervous to sit on his face bc she's worried to hurt him but her weight/body type isn't mentioned), face sitting, f!receiving oral, vague mentions of finnick’s canon sexual trauma asked to be tagged: @lufvg word count: 0.9k

Come Take A Dive

"I can hold my breath for a pretty long time," Finnick said, smirking. "So you don't have to worry about me, baby.”

You laughed at his words, but there was a nervous shake to the sound. It had been his idea, for you to try sitting on his face, and he was insistent that you could actually sit.

As in, put all your weight down on his face and focus on nothing but your own pleasure, which was an incredibly generous and appealing offer, but…a little scary, too. Surely even Finnick’s well-trained swimmer’s lungs couldn’t withstand being smothered by your thighs.

He had already survived so much, it would be incredibly pathetic of him to die like that. When you told him as much, he grinned and said, “At least I’d die doing what I loved.”

You had rolled your eyes, but it had managed to ease your nerves. And so, you finally agreed to give it a shot, much to his delight.

Finnick’s past sexual encounters had not been about love or intimacy. When you met him, sex was something that he did because he had to, because it kept him safe, and well, he learned some valuable Capitol secrets along the way.

But now he was free of that life, and sex had become something entirely new and exciting for him. He especially enjoyed making you cum, as if your pleasure was something sacred to him.

Perhaps it was. To know that he had made you feel good, not because he was required to, but because he wanted to. Because he loved you, and he loved to make you feel good.

You hovered over him on the bed, bare from the waist down, only wearing one of his t-shirts. You straddled his shoulders, looking down at his face with a nervous grin.

“You sure about this?” you asked.

“Absolutely. Are you?” he replied, large hands rubbing soothing circles on your thighs, sneaking grabs at your ass.

“I think so. Do you promise you’ll tap out if you need?”

You had previously agreed that if Finnick ever felt triggered during sex, he would tap your nearest body part three times, quickly. The same applied to this situation, whether it was something that upset him or merely the fact that it could be difficult to breathe properly with his face being smothered by your pussy.

“I promise,” he assured you. “Now, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”

It was hard to resist when he spoke like that, and so you took a deep breath before adjusting your position so that your already wet pussy was right above Finnick’s pink, perfect mouth.

Slowly, you lowered your hips, sinking onto his face and gasping as his tongue immediately went to work, lapping at your clit desperately.

You moaned softly, grabbing the headboard to keep yourself steady. It wasn’t the most comfortable position, but you understood the appeal.

Finnick whined against you, the action tangible against your cunt, a little vibration that made you pull up in surprise, just a tiny bit, but he wasn’t having that. His hands grabbed your hips and pushed you back down onto his face, his tongue fucking into your hole.

It felt incredible, and you whimpered at the mixture of sensations: His strong grip, holding you in place, fingertips digging into your flesh. His tongue, moving inside of you. And, most interestingly, his nose, which was nudging against your clit, keeping the nerves stimulated while his mouth was otherwise occupied.

You weren’t even sure he was doing it on purpose. Perhaps it was just a lovely coincidence, but the friction made your hips move of their own accord, rutting on his face desperately.

All the moving, combined with your wetness, it caused Finnick’s face to practically slide along your slit, somehow leading to the tip of his nose touching your hole, making you jump in surprise. It didn’t feel bad, but it was definitely a strange feeling. Not bad, though.

You felt Finnick chuckle beneath you, mumbling something that sounded like ‘sorry’ as he fumbled to reposition you.

“Don’t be,” you breathed.

He returned his mouth to your clit then, finally deciding it was time to make you cum, and it didn’t take him long to bring you there. Your legs shook as your orgasm built, and Finnick held you tightly in place until you were crying out.

You carefully got off of him before laying beside him on your back, your body still shaky and pumped with adrenaline. Your legs ached from holding that position and your thighs were soaked.

Finnick rolled onto his side, smirking at you. His face was damp, shiny with your wetness. “See?” he said.

You rolled your eyes, giggling. “Okay, yes. It was worth it.”

“Are you gonna thank me?”

“For convincing me or for making me cum?”

“Both.”

You smirked, eyeing Finnick’s hard cock in his pants. “I know a way to show you just how grateful I am.”

He grinned.

1 year ago

The Nanny

When babysitting your neighbor's kid, trouble seems to find you.

The Nanny

Author's Note: SOA AU - No Tara, Clay, or Gemma. Trigger warning for violence! This was supposed to be up for Valentine's Day, but as you can see... that wasn't the case lmao.

Charming, California is one of those picture perfect little towns where everyone tries to be prim and proper, and act like their shit doesn't stink. And in the short time that you've lived here, you quickly realized that the law-abiding citizens hated the fact that Charming was home to a MC, the Sons of Anarchy.

It doesn't bother you to see them riding down the streets as you're out and about, but you do find it hilarious that a majority of the locals either gasp in outrage upon seeing the bikers or avoid them at all costs. You find the bikers very easy-going, but then again the club president is your neighbor.

Jax Teller had taken it upon himself to introduce himself when you were moving in, carrying boxes for you and flashing a rather charming smile as he pumped you for information about yourself. You knew what he was doing, and it was rather laughable, but you had nothing to hide and were a rather boring person, so you gave the information freely. Between the two of you, he was more interesting as a MC president whereas you stayed home and lived off the money your brothers made. Jax seemed interested in what your brothers did for a living that they were able to provide you with the life you have, but you explained they made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile. You helped them with scheduling, but they still did a majority of the work.

Finding out Jax has a son (Abel) makes your heart warm towards the biker, and then warm up to the club when his brothers visit every now and then. Juice was really just a goofball when he wasn't doing business for the club, Chibs was a secret sweetheart, Tig was a little crazy, Happy was hard to read, but it was Opie who was the most normal of the bunch.

You settle into your home quite nicely, working from your little office when your brothers need help to prevent any scheduling conflicts. Then in your downtime, you either have a book in hand or waste time on your gaming system. Jax and his brothers have been over a couple of times, drinking a beer to wind down or eating whatever leftovers you happen to have after you've already eaten.

This morning, however, you've just finished making breakfast when there's a knock at your front door. With a strip of bacon in hand, you answer the door and are surprised to see Jax and his son Abel standing there.

"What's up, Teller?"

He immediately smiles and your eyes narrow. "I hate to do this on such short notice, but my nanny canceled. Do you think you could watch Abel for the day?"

You glance down at the blonde boy, shrugging. "Is he cool staying with me?"

Jax glances down and nudges his son, but Abel merely asks, "Do you have more bacon?"

You open the door wider as you chuckle. "Sure, kid. You want some eggs and hashbrowns too?"

"Yum."

Abel walks into your house without a care in the world and you meet Jax's amused gaze. "So are there any rules I should abide by? Are you one of those dad's that limits screen time or bans sugar?"

"Nope and nope. No allergies either."

"Cool."

"Thank you. I owe you."

As Jax starts to walk down your porch steps, you say, "I'm a slut for food, Teller. Bribe me with food and I'll say yes to anything."

"Anything?" He peers over his shoulder and arches an eyebrow. You scowl at him.

"Almost anything."

Jax laughs. "Don't cook tonight then. I'll bring some cheeseburgers and fries from this diner that makes pretty good food."

"Alright."

. .

. .

When Jax returns later that night, Chibs and Happy follow after learning he was picking up food from the diner. What surprised them, however, was that while Jax parked in his driveway, he started taking the food to his neighbors house. But Chibs, nor Happy, said a word and followed their president with their own food when he didn't protest.

Jax is poised to knock on the door when he hears, "Don't you- don't you dare do it, kid. If you do it, I will personally wait until you turn seventeen to kick your little ass." The words give Jax pause because what the actual fuck! But then Abel's giggling makes him grin.

"Did she just threaten to kick Abel's ass, Jackie?" Chibs wonders, smirking.

"I think so."

"No, no, no! You blue-shelled me?! You're like two. How do you even know how to play this?!" Jax snorts and finally knocks. The trash talking suddenly ceases before… "It's open! If you're friendly, welcome! If not, I got a little ankle biter in here and I'm not afraid to sic him on you!"

Jax laughs some more and enters the house, walking to where he hears all the commotion. Walking into the living room, he can't help but smile at the sight of YN and Abel sitting side by side on the couch, attention focused on the TV where they're apparently playing Mario Kart.

"You bring the goods, Teller?"

"Burgers and fries as promised."

"You are currently my favorite Teller." Still your attention is on the TV, your trash talking his kid being kept very polite all of a sudden. Jax, Chibs, and Happy have no idea what's going on, but suddenly one of the characters is spinning out because of a banana peel and then Abel's giving a long, suffering sigh as the other character passes the finish line. "Yes!" You jump up, pointing down at Abel. "Sucks to suck, kid. Now come on. Your pop's got the goods."

When you finally look up at Jax, you momentarily freeze when you see Chibs and Happy there as well. "Oh. Hey, guys. Kitchen's this way."

Everyone follows you into the kitchen and you immediately grab drinks from the fridge. When you turn around, Jax is divvying up some food for himself, Abel, and you. You pass out the beers to the men and you have cans of Sprite for yourself and Abel. Then as you take the last remaining available seat since Jax kept Abel on his lap, you thank Jax for the food before digging in.

"So did you have fun today?" Jax asks his son.

"Yeah. I got to color and watch TV and play games."

Jax glances at you and you shrug. "I made do. I would have gone to the store to pick up some stuff for him, but I didn't know if you'd feel comfortable with me taking him anywhere."

"I appreciate that."

"So what about you? Is your nanny good or will you need another favor?"

"Uh, she actually might be out for a few more days."

You nod. "I can do it. Is it cool if I take him to the store with me tomorrow morning? I forgot how much little kids snack throughout the day."

"Yeah. I have an extra car seat you can use and I'll leave you some cash."

"Nah. Don't even worry about it. I'll be snacking with him, so I can front the bill."

But still, cash ends up thrown onto the table from both Chibs and Jax. You have a feeling it'd be useless to argue, so you say nothing.

After dinner, Jax helps you clean up before they all take their leave. He tells Abel to tell you goodbye and your heart absolutely melts when you crouch down, and Abel hugs you.

You visibly melt as you hug the little boy back and then pull back to tweak his nose. "Okay, you're officially my favorite Teller again."

Abel smiles at you as Jax laughs and then you bid everyone goodbye at the door.

The Nanny

Abel ends up preferring your company to that of his nanny, so Jax ends up splitting his son's time between the nanny at his house and you at your own house when you have nothing going on.

On this particular day, after a lunch of sandwich and chips, you and Abel are lounging in a kiddie pool right in the middle of your front yard. You even went as far to put up a canopy to have the pool half in the shade and half in the sun, and are soaking in a sports bra and a pair of black tights that look like shorts.

You're sitting in the shade, sipping on a juice box as Abel stands on the other side playing with water blasters. You hear the rumble of a motorcycle, unsurprised to have Jax checking in.

As the blonde walks up, you smile innocently as he laughs. "Where did the pool come from?"

"The store." You shrug. Abel takes the moment to load up his blaster with lukewarm water and shoots his dad with it. Jax doesn't bother dodging the stream. "We saw a commercial for the waterpark and since we can't go there, I brought the water to us."

Wiping water from his face and using it to slick his hair back, Jax crouches next to the pool and asks, "How much do I owe you?"

"Not a cent, Teller." You sip on your juice, grinning. "I haven't been in one of these since I was a kid. This is for me as much as it's for Abel. He just gave me the excuse of getting one and chilling in it without looking like an idiot."

"Well I don't know about that…"

He trails off and you gasp in mock outrage. As he laughs, you say, "You're lucky I respect the kutte and the fact that you have a phone in your pocket somewhere. If I didn't, I'd drag your butt in here with us."

"Next time." Jax splashes his son and then stands before Abel can shoot him point blank with water. "Am I grabbing dinner tonight?"

"Nah. Abel already made a request. He wants chicken tenders and fries."

"And what the little man wants, he gets?"

"Obviously." You roll your eyes playfully. "Plus, it's an easy meal and I enjoy it too."

"Alright." He chuckles as he starts making his way back towards his motorcycle. "Don't stay in the pool too long."

"Yes, sir." You mockingly salute him, lips twitching when you see him momentarily tense before relaxing once more. "See you later."

. .

. .

It's past Abel's bedtime by the time Jax makes it home, and already he's prepared for his kid to either be bouncing off the walls or very cranky. But as he nears YN's house, he notices that it's mostly dark. All the lights are off with the exception of the porch light and a couple of lamps he can see through the windows that peer into the living room. And the TV, of course.

Instead of knocking, he lets himself right in. It's almost too quiet, but he can hear the TV playing rather low in the living room. Heading there, he walks up to the sofa and can't help but smile at the sight that greets him. YN is laid out across the sofa with Abel on her chest, his back to her front. Both are knocked out cold.

Without second guessing himself, Jax pulls out his phone and snaps a quick photo. Chuckling to himself, he then walks around the sofa as he pockets his phone and crouches down. "Hey. YN," he gently calls out while shaking her shoulder.

It takes a few shakes before you wake, sleepily humming until Jax's voice coaxes you until you're fully awake. Your arms wrap around Abel on instinct and when you notice Jax's smirking presence, you relax. "What time is it?" You mumble.

"A little after ten."

"Really? Fuck. I guess the sun really did kick my ass if I'm this sleepy."

"Yeah." Jax chuckles and then carefully starts to gather Abel in his arms. "Sorry about showing up so late."

"Don't even worry about it." You sit up, rubbing your eyes and yawning. "You know I adore your kid." As you follow Jax to the door, you remind him about going away for a week and not being able to watch Abel, but that you'll have your phone on if Abel wants to talk.

Jax laughs. "I swear, my kid loves you more than me sometimes."

"It's only because I'm a better cook," you muse.

Jax opens his mouth to argue, but ends up shutting it and shrugging. "You're not wrong there."

As Jax then exits your home, you bid him goodnight and watch until he disappears into his home.

The Nanny

When you explained to Jax that your brothers made their money because of the family business that provided private security for celebrities and individuals with a high profile, you weren't lying. Nor did you lie when you also explained you helped them with scheduling for said high profile individuals.

What you chose to leave out, however, was that your family had such a great record with security because no one wanted to fuck with a family who had connections to two different cartels through your dearly departed parents.

However, before you settled into the calm life of personal security, your brothers made a name for yourselves as ruthless hitmen amongst the cartels and you… you were a little unhinged when you were caught up in the moment as one of their torturers. You worked for the cartels when they needed you to, but when you and your brothers wanted to distance yourselves, it was the cartels who helped set up your security business.

The week spent with your brothers is just to visit and catch up with those who all three of you came to see as uncles. It was most definitely not supposed to end up with you being caught off guard by a fist to the face. Someone who didn't know all what you were capable of took advantage of the fact that you were a woman who was close to big names within the cartels. They thought you to be easily taken down and used as leverage, but what they didn't count on was you hiding daggers on your persons. The fight was dirty and bloody, and by the end of it you were spitting mad.

You have the urge to carve into someone that your brothers are trying to quell for once when your phone rings. You pull out your phone mid-pacing, and then freeze upon seeing Jax's name on the screen. But it's not a normal call- it's a video call.

"Fuck."

"What?" Your elder brother asks. "Who is it?"

"It's my neighbor. Most likely his kid Abel since I babysit him most of the time." Your brothers glance at each other and you roll your eyes. "I've told you about them. Now toss me my hoodie. I can't let them see my face like this."

Before the call ends, you answer it but make sure to angle the camera away from the bruised side of your face. "Hey, Jax, give me one sec," you say. Your brother tosses you a hoodie and you quickly pull it on after setting your phone down. Then you take a seat at the kitchen table, turning off a few lights so it's a little darker and you can hide within your hood. Picking up your phone and keeping only half your face on camera, you smile. "Hey, guys, miss me?"

Jax's smile falters, but Abel immediately starts talking, telling you all about his day with his dad. He tells you he misses your food and play time, and you assure him you'll be home soon. You tell him about hanging out with your own family and even make your brothers wave at the camera when you switch it on them. Abel's little voice telling them hi makes you smile and then Jax is telling Abel to go watch some TV before bed.

Left alone with Jax on the phone, his smile vanishes. "What happened?"

"What do you mean?" You refuse to meet either of your brothers' gazes as you can feel them staring at you. "Everything's fine."

"Bullshit." Your brothers snort and you huff. Very reluctantly, you pull your hood down and maneuver the camera so it catches your full face. Jax's expression hardens. "Fuck."

"Don't worry. It looks worse than it is."

"What the fuck happened?"

You shrug and quickly glance at your brothers, but they're back to doing their own thing. "Went out drinking with the family and got caught in a brawl. It's been handled."

"So I don't have to gather the boys and kick some ass?"

His words make you huff a laugh. "Nah. I'm pretty sure I put the guy in a hospital."

"You took down a dude?! Now that's hot. I wish I could have seen that."

Uncaring that they're eavesdropping, your brothers burst out laughing and you sigh. You can't help but smile and you end up rolling your eyes when Jax laughs too. "Whatever. How's Abel really doing? Is he driving his official nanny insane yet?"

"Not really. He's just moping around."

"Aww." You coo. "Well I should be home soon. I'll take him to the park or something."

Jax's teasing smile turns genuine. "You know, I've never told you this, but I appreciate everything you do for Abel. You don't have to do anything, but you still treat him like family."

"What can I say? I like kids." You shrug. "And my idiot brothers will never give me any nieces or nephews."

"Hey!" Both your brothers protest.

You grin at them before looking back at Jax on your phone. "I should get going though. We have a meeting with the uncles here in a bit and I need to get ready."

"Alright. No more fights unless I'm there to avenge you. I can't have my favorite girl looking like she's in an abusive relationship."

Snorting, you say, "No promises. Tell Abel goodnight for me and to come up with a plan for what he wants to do when I get back home."

"Will do. See you soon."

As soon as you hang up, your brothers start making teasing kissing noises. "Oh shut the fuck up."

The Nanny

Valentine's Day has never been a day that you really cared for. Sure it was sweet to see teenagers and kids swap gifts and/or cards, or to buy candy half off, but it didn't bother you to have a significant other on this day. But you do remember how good it felt to get a gift as a kid, so you want to make sure Abel has a good day.

With your time spent with Abel, you've come to know that he loves certain fruits and chocolate. So after heading to the store for a quick shopping trip, you return home with strawberries, bananas, and melting chocolate. Then after cleaning the strawberries and chopping up some bananas, you dip them all in the ooey-gooey chocolate before letting them harden while fixing up a white dessert box with edges that say Happy Valentine's Day.

You've just filled the box with chocolate covered fruit when your phone rings and you can't help but smile at the name. You're no stranger to how handsome Jax is, but you know better than to go there with him.

"Hey, Teller, to what do I owe the pleasure of your hot voice?" You immediately answer.

Jax's laughter meets your ear before, "While it's nice to hear you like my voice, I'm actually calling on behalf of Abel."

"Aw. What does my favorite Teller need?"

"You know I'm your favorite Teller, YN." You hum, not denying his words. "But Abel is requesting your appearance here at the shop because he has a very important question to ask you."

"A very important question?" You muse. "What does Abel have to…" You trail off, the amusement in Jax's voice suddenly making something make sense. "His question doesn't happen to coincide with what today is, does it?"

Jax chuckles. "I am not ruining the surprise."

"I swear to God, Jax, if I end up crying I'm going to kick your ass."

"I look forward to it. Now get pretty and get your ass over here. Do not break my kid's heart."

"Never. And I'm always pretty, Teller."

"...yeah. You are." Your eyes widen at his words, but you don't say anything. Jax then clears his throat. "I'll see you soon."

"Y-Yeah. I'll be there in ten."

You can feel yourself blushing as you hang up, but quickly put it out of your mind as you hurry to your room to get dressed. You pull on a black sundress that's covered in sunflowers, the flowy skirt hitting right above your knees. You step into some black wedge sandals and quickly tie your hair up in a messy ponytail. You apply the basic amount of makeup and spritz some perfume around your body.

Heading downstairs, you throw all your necessities into a purse and then grab Abel's box of chocolate covered fruit before heading out.

The drive to Teller Automotive isn't a very long one, and you're soon parking in the lot. You leave your purse in the car, but you keep your box of fruits in hand. You get several wolf whistles as you cross the parking lot, but you merely laugh off Tig and Chibs' teasing.

Before you can enter the auto garage, Jax walks out, a smirk in place. And then before you can ask him what he's smirking for, your gaze is drawn downward to Abel who walks out behind him… and oh. You fuckin' melt.

Abel's hair is slicked into a faux hawk, a red bow tie is clipped to the very crisp white button shirt that's tucked into a pair of tiny faded jeans. In his hands he's holding a teddy bear that's adorned with a miniature Sons of Anarchy kutte, and a red carnation. The adorableness of it all makes you melt and tear up at how cute he is.

"Oh my goodness. You look so handsome," you tell him.

As you crouch so you're more at his level, you make sure the skirt of your dress still covers everything. Abel blushes as he asks, "Will you be my Valentine?"

"Hell yes I will." Abel smiles as he hands over your gifts, and Jax and the others- who were apparently listening in- whoop in celebration. "And as my Valentine, it's only fair that I give a gift as well. Strawberries and bananas covered in chocolate. Your favorite," you tell him.

Abel is so ecstatic over his gift that he nearly knocks you over as he hugs you. When Chibs ask him what he's got, he's more than happy to run off and show his uncles what you've given him. Jax offers you a hand up and as soon as you're steady on your feet, you notice him looking at you in a certain way.

"What?" You huff a laugh, carefully wiping away your tears that never fully fell.

"You are amazing, you know that?"

"Hardly. Tiny Teller is just adorable as hell." You can feel yourself starting to blush so you glance down at the teddy in your hand. "Where did you find a tiny kutte anyway?"

"It's actually Abel's. The guys had it made for him when he was born and he wanted your teddy to have it."

"I'll take extra care of it then." When you glance back at Jax, you ask, "So does Abel have to stay or can I take my valentine out on a date?" You have no idea what Jax had been thinking, but it's like your words make him snap. From one second to next, he goes from staring at you in awe to gently grasping your face and pulling you into a kiss. You gasp but quickly return the sentiment. And when Jax pulls back, still cupping your face in his hands, you ask, "So me wanting to take your kid out on a date really did it for you, huh?"

Jax barks out a laugh and you smile as he leans in for another quick kiss. "Been wanting to do that for a while actually."

"And you waited until this moment to do it," you muse. "Jokes on you though. You gotta stick around and listen to your boys tease you about this while I take Abel out all on my lonesome." You kiss him for a third time and then step out of his reach to holler, "Little Teller, let's go! It's you and me, buddy. Whatever you wanna do."

As Abel approaches with a lot less fruit, he asks, "Can we eat pizza in the park?"

"We sure can. Now say goodbye to your dad so we can go stuff our faces."

The Nanny

Dating Jax Teller is rather thrilling. You do not care to know what goes on in the club unless it pertains to any woman trying to sleep with him, or when Jax needs someone to vent to. Then, and only then, do you let your opinion be known about what goes on with the MC.

But while you have nothing against the MC, you still prefer to spend a majority of your time with Abel. Sure you'll show up to some parties so all the other women know Jax is off limits, but you're content to do activities with little Teller wherever he wants to be for the day.

You thought it was cute Jax tried to shield you from the violence the club was capable of, but never pressed him for information when you noticed he looked stressed about something. This time, however, you wish you had pressed him for information when he asked you to stay in with Abel.

It's nighttime, and you and Abel are relaxing in front of your TV as you watch some new Pixar film about dragons and their riders. The two of you are dozing off when your front door is kicked in, which then makes you jump into action. But you're not just defending yourself, you have a little boy to think about. So before you can find a proper weapon, you're left standing in front of Abel who is now clinging to your leg as he whimpers in fear.

"Jax Teller chose a pretty one this time."

"Fuck off."

The men all chuckle in front of you. "Take her."

. .

. .

The Sons of Anarchy roll up to a subdivision that's still in development, cautiously dismounting their motorcycles and arming themselves. A new MC had established themselves in a neighboring town, looking to make a name for themselves, and they thought knocking down the Sons a peg or ten was what they ought to do to establish their foothold in the MC world for good.

The encroaching MC took to ambushing the Sons whenever and wherever, and the people of Charming were starting to become afraid of strolling their pristine streets. Even the Sheriff was looking to the Sons to end the conflict, but they could only do so much. Unfortunately, one of the fights involved a chase on motorcycles as the Sons were making a run, and the son of the enemy President took a bullet to the right side of his chest and fell. His injuries then resulted in a coma which set off to this little meeting.

As they creep through the eerily quiet streets of the deserted subdivision, Opie flanks Jax. "I don't like this, brother. Something feels off."

"I agree," Chibs says. "We should have put the club on lockdown before ridin' out."

Jax sighs. "Too late now."

Juice, Happy, and Tig jog up to homes still under construction, trying the doors or looking for any signs that someone's been there. It isn't until they get to the end of the block that they notice one home has been vandalized and they know that's where they're supposed to go.

Every Son cautiously enters the house, nose wrinkling as the state of the house. But in the middle of the living room, there's an odd clearing around a small round table. And on that table sits a folded notecard.

The Sons seem to freeze, but then Jax is marching towards the note. Snatching it up, the words written make him tense as his world starts to tilt. "Fuck. They're going after Abel."

As the note flutters to the floor, the Sons all race after their President as he flees the house.

The note read, [A son for a son.]

On the way to YN's, Jax instructs half the Sons to break off and check on the club, while also making calls to get everyone on an official lockdown. Jax, Opie, Chibs, and Happy race to his neighbor's house.

When they pull up, a few neighbors are peering out their doors looking a bit distraught. Immediately, they know something terrible has happened, and that feeling is only intensified when they spot the broken down door.

Rushing to park in YN's front yard, guns are pulled from the back waistband of their jeans. Jax takes point as he enters the house and his heart drops to his stomach. The house is an absolute mess, furniture and glass broken.

The TV is still playing some cartoon movie and when he walks further in, he curses at the sight of a body laying in a pool of blood.

Happy peers over his shoulder. "Now we know she can hold her own."

"Find them. Now."

. .

. .

Sitting in the bathtub, Abel clings to you as his face hides against the side of your neck. Your face hurts from the numerous punches you took, your lip is split, your arms have multiple lacerations, and there's blood dripping into your eyes. But your worst wound is definitely the bullet wound to the left of your abdomen, and you're grateful that Abel's weight is putting pressure on the towel you had pressed against the wound.

It's been quiet for what seems like forever, but suddenly you hear movement. Shakily raising the gun you'd taken from one of the intruders, you take aim and dare the next motherfucker who enters to be someone intending harm on you or the boy in your lap.

The door gently swings open, but no one is there. Your arm hurts from holding the gun up and then you see someone try to peer around the door jamb. You can only partially see his face, but the voice- you recognize the voice even if you rarely hear it when you're at the club.

"Baby girl?"

"...Hap?"

The stoic man steps fully in the doorway, putting his gun away as you drop yours in the tub. Abel shifts as he whimpers and you wince. "Jax! Upstairs bathroom!"

Abel realizes his uncle's voice and dad's name, so he moves to turn. Happy is quick to lift him, his eyes widening at the blood soaking his clothes. "S'fine. My blood," you tiredly tell him. "I didn't… I didn't let them touch him."

"You did real good." Happy's assurance makes you smile, but you're just so tired. As your eyes slide shut, you hear, "Hey! Don't do that. Stay awake, YN."

"Tryin'…" Pounding footsteps race up the stairs and it isn't long until Jax, Chibs, and Opie are pushing their way into the bathroom as well. Jax takes Abel right away, eyes scanning the room before they land on you. Happy and Opie move to help you out of the tub, but Chibs is quick to point out your bleeding wound. The last words you say are, "Call my brothers," before darkness consumes you."

. .

. .

Jax is pacing the hospital waiting room, blood covering his shirt and hands from where he carried Abel. Chibs had taken Abel back to the club to clean him up and fill in the others about what was going on, but now he's back and filling in the Sheriff about what they had walked in on at YN's house. Thankfully Jax and YN's neighbors liked them, and were honest about hearing gunshots before the Sons had frantically rolled up.

Opie and Happy are the only two sitting patiently, but their attention is drawn to a large group of men entering the room. Two men in particular glance around before making a beeline for Jax, but the others hang back by the door. It's evident these men mean business as they stand guard, their suits standing out among the scrubs, kuttes, and regular clothing of the others sitting in the waiting room.

When Jax notices the newcomers, his shoulders sag at the sight of YN's brothers. But his interest is piqued with the suited thugs behind the brothers, tattoos visible along their hands and neck.

The brothers quickly introduce themselves as Noah and Theo, both of their expressions grim.

"What happened?" Noah asks. He's the elder of the two, his muscled torso covered in a button down with their sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

"They were after my kid," Jax immediately tells them, voice low. "She took a bullet for him and she's in surgery right now."

Both brothers' jaws clench.

"Do you know who they are?" Theo asks, tapping away on his phone.

"Yeah. It's another MC. They attacked us on a run and the son of the President took a fall off his bike. He's in a coma, so the President went after my kid in return."

"And your kid was in the care of our sister," Noah realizes.

"Yes."

Noah sighs, running a hand down his face. Then after a few more taps and texts, Theo grins. "Found them."

Jax frowns. "Found who?"

"The people responsible for putting our sister in the hospital."

Jax then tenses. "This is club business, man. We'll handle it."

Both Noah and Theo tense, but end up chuckling. Jax's jaw clenches, but he keeps his anger in check.

Noah says, "If you think it'll remain club business when YN wakes up, then that means my sister hasn't confessed the family secret."

Jax freezes. "What secret?"

"We had to get our start somewhere when our parents died," Theo tells him. "And it just so happened that each of our parents came from very powerful, very wealthy families. We worked our way to the top of the food chain and became rather notorious until we wanted out and settled into the business we currently have."

Noah starts to smirk. "Your club business just became cartel business, my friend. And our uncles are livid that their little girl was attacked."

Jax glances at his boys, but says nothing.

"We'll find them and keep them occupied," Theo says. "When YN is released, she'll be out for blood."

"And she'll get it," Noah muses. "After all, she is quite the little torturer."

The Nanny

When you wake up, you're unsurprised to find Jax by your bedside. You are surprised, however, to learn that he knows about your past thanks to your brothers promising bloodshed. You groan, but then remember Abel. And after assurances that Abel is fine, you relax.

You're anxious to know where you stand with Jax as he explains why you ended up in the hospital. He feels guilty for not telling you what was really going on or putting you on lockdown, along with the club, but you don't blame him for what happened. Dating the President of an MC, you were bound to be pulled into the violence sooner or later, and with your past you knew you could handle it.

When he runs out of steam, it's your turn to start apologizing for not telling him about your life with the cartels. You make sure he knows that you would have never endangered Abel, and if your past had come calling, you would have made sure that they were protected at all costs. Jax assures you he's not mad, but he did wish you would have told him given you knew about the roles some of his brothers played in the club.

But what's done is done, and Jax is more interested in what you plan on doing since your brothers have gone quiet after calling him to inform him that they've got a majority of the MC tucked away in a building that no one can hear the impending mayhem.

"They broke into my home and put a bullet in me just to get to Abel and send a message to you," you say, expression turning thunderous. "The one who shot me doesn't get to walk away. Hell, the ones who fuckin' raised a gun in Abel's direction are lucky that they'll be limping away after I'm done."

"Limping away?"

You slowly smirk at him, lowering your voice. "I'm not gonna draw out my punishment, but my brothers and my uncles' men sure as shit ain't gonna sit back. They're gonna make sure they get the message that they fucked with the wrong people."

Jax huffs a laugh and then ends up staying for as long as the nurses would let him, only leaving when YN's brothers came or he had to go pick up Abel so he'd see that YN was fine for himself.

Then after two and a half days, you're released.

You're still sore, but you've got nothing but vengeance on your mind. When your brothers send you the address of where they're holding several individuals for you to interrogate, you get dressed and head for Teller Automotive.

Some of the guys are surprised to see you up and about, but you wave off their concern as you continue towards the club portion of the shop.

The usual sweetbutts are milling about, cleaning up and most likely getting ready for a party since it is a Friday. You spot Jax and Juice at the bar as Juice taps away on a laptop.

"Boys," you greet as you walk up behind them. "Whatcha workin' on?"

Jax turns in his seat, eyes subtly widening as he stands. "You're out! Why didn't you call me?" He's quick to carefully take you in his arms, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips.

"Because if I'd have called you, you'd have taken me home and coddled me."

"Well yeah. You were shot."

"I got shit to take care of, Teller, and I'm not wasting another day."

"Then what are you doing here?"

You shrug. "I just thought that you'd want to see the MC face their consequences."

"Now? You're going to do that now?" He asks, his gaze darting down to your covered abdomen.

"Yep. "My brothers procured a place just on the outskirts of Charming where we won't be interrupted. You in?"

"Well, yeah. Obviously."

"Good. Then gather whoever's in and follow me."

As you sit in your car, you watch Jax as speaks with several of brothers to see who he's going to leave in charge. And after everything is settled, only five follow Jax to their motorcycles- Opie, Happy, Juice, Tig, and Chibs.

You start your car and start to drive, pausing by the gate until Jax and the others start to roll out. You take off, keeping your speed down as you drive through the town. But the moment you get to the road leading out of Charming, you step on the gas and race towards the location your brothers sent to you.

You drive along an empty stretch of road until you turn down a dirt road which is surrounded by empty crop fields that have seen better days. The road leads up to a dilapidated farmhouse, a very rusted horse corral, and behind all that is a barn where several vehicles have parked.

You park and get out, waiting for Jax to find the perfect spot to park their motorcycles. Once they do, you wait until they gather around.

"I know this started off as club business, but now it's cartel business. I can't have you questioning me in there."

"This is your playground," Jax says. "We're just here for a show."

You nod and then turn towards the barn doors, pushing them open with the help of Chibs and Tig when they get stuck. Inside, several men are hanging about on turned over crates or bales of hay, some even sitting at a small wooden table playing cards. Music plays softly in the background, but it's cut off the moment your presence is noticed.

Immediately, every man and woman scramble to their feet as you approach.

In the middle of the barn, there's a line of eight men with burlap sacks over their heads sitting in chairs with their wrists tied down to the armrests and ankles tied to the legs. Walking down the line of men, you snatch the sacks from their heads.

"Wakey, wakey, motherfuckers." Each man is clearly exhausted, agitated, and pissed off.

You save the MC President for last, smirking as he sneers at you. "Stupid bitch." He seethes. "Let us go. Right now."

"Bitch," you muse. "If you're going to insult me, at least call me a cunt. Or whore. Those words have much more of an impact."

"Cunt."

Your fist whips out, striking him across the face so hard that his head jerks to the side. He turns to glare back up at you, spitting blood that lands on your pant leg. "Now, now. If you're going to insult me again, at least be creative about it. Your lack of creativity is sorely disappointing." He roars at you, trying to free his wrists and feet, but you merely laugh and continue to pace in front of his men. "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why you're here and it's quite simple, really." You stop pacing, expression hardening. "You fucked with the wrong woman."

Then like a switch has been flipped, you go back to smiling and pacing, gesturing wildly as you talk. "Normally I wouldn't touch MC business with a ten foot pole, but you fuckers messed up. You broke into my home and went after a child under my care- a child that I hold very near and dear to my heart. So, now your piss poor attempt at taking over territory that doesn't belong to you has now come under cartel jurisdiction, and I will make sure that any stupid motherfuckers who dares to come after the Sons of Anarchy will pay a price."

"Fuck that. We didn't cross any cartel!"

"Oh honey," you mockingly coo as you come to a stop in front of the one who spoke. "I am part of the cartel." Turning around, you walk towards a long table and lift the cloth laying atop of it. Beneath the cloth, there's a variety of weapons. You tuck a glock into the back waistband of your jeans and then grasp a dagger in your dominant hand. Then turning to walk back towards the bound men, you smirk. "Now what I want are the assholes who attacked me and dared to point a gun at a child. You give me those men and the rest of you can walk out of here."

Silence.

Dead fuckin' silence.

"Nothing?" You chuckle. "Come on, guys. Give 'em up. I swear it's not worth protecting them. I mean, I can probably figure it out. Eyes are windows to the soul and all that rot. You might have been wearing masks, but I still remember those cowardly glints very well."

"Fuck you! I ain't no coward."

"Bingo!" You shout, pointing the tip of your blade at the culprit. Walking up to the guy, you can't help but laugh as he realizes his mistake and clamps his mouth shut. "One down, one more to go."

"I ain't telling you shit."

"No?" Switching the dagger to your other hand, you pull the glock free from behind your back. You step close to the man, taking aim at his crotch. "Are you sure about that?"

He cruelly smirks. "You're all talk and no-"

BANG!

The guy immediately starts screaming, his buddies struggling in their chairs, and you laugh. When you glance around the room, you see those you consider family chuckling and the Sons cringing in sympathy as they cover their crotches. You walk around so you're standing behind the screaming fool, swapping the dagger and gun in your hands so the dagger is back in your dominant hand. "Going once… going twice…" He continues to scream, and you sigh when no one else speaks up.

And then before anyone can comprehend what you've done, you've dragged the blade across the guy's neck.

As he gurgles on his blood and his friends shout obscenities at you, you walk around so you're standing before them once again.

"That's three of my men you've killed already," the President says. "I think fair's fair."

"I want the last one," you say. "One last guy and you're good to go."

No one says anything, but the President's expression hardens. There's a cold glint in his eye that you're very familiar with, and you know that should he walk out of these barn doors, he'll do anything and everything for revenge. "Samuel. I sent Samuel."

The Samuel in question squawks and you smile beautifully at him over the shoulder before staring at the President once more. "Harsh. Selling out your own guy like that." You saunter up to him, sighing. "But he's the thing; I hate snitches."

Then before the President can blink, you take aim and pull the trigger. The bullet hits him right between the eyebrows.

The struggling, bound men all seem to cease movement and you turn towards them. "Now that that's out of the way…" You walk back towards Samuel, scoffing at his whimpering. "You might get to live today, Sammy, but not without something to remember why messing with the Sons a big no-no."

"And w-what's that?"

You slowly smile. "Open your fist, Samuel. Lay your hand flat against the armrest."

His eyes widen as he whimpers, but he hesitantly does as you've said. Then when his hand is nice and flat, you drive your blade through the back of his hand, pinning it to the arm rest.

As he screams, you sneer at him and then start to make your way towards the Sons. On your way, you hand off your gun before coming to a stop in front of Jax and pasting on a smile as you glance at each Sons. "Who's hungry?"

"Marry me," Happy grumbles.

You laugh at him, winking, and then glance back at Jax. "You're a little psycho," he says.

"Only when the occasion calls for it. But seriously, can we go get food?"

Jax laughs as he sidles up to your side, sliding an arm along the back of your shoulders. "Do burgers sound good?"

"Burgers sound marvelous. I also want a vanilla milkshake."

"Good. We'll go grab some and surprise Abel. He's been itching to go to your house again."

"Ugh. Your kid is so adorable. But maybe let me settle in before you grab him. My abdomen is on fire and if we tell him I'm sick, maybe he won't be so hyperactive."

"Let me see."

Begrudgingly, you lift the hem of your shirt and glance down. Sure enough, you've bled through your bandages. "New plan; No Abel."

"What? But-"

"Nope." Jax squeezes you to his side as you sigh. "You're gonna go home, Chibs will follow to patch you up, and I'll go pick up some food. Abel can go one more day without seeing you."

"Boo."

The Sons chuckle.

"What about us?" Juice asks, gesturing between himself, Tig, and Happy.

"I don't care, Juice. Do whatever you want."

As they head towards their motorcycles, Jax walks you to your car.

"So, are you really okay with this?" You ask. "Okay with me and all that I'm capable of?"

"Yeah." Jax nods. "More than okay, actually. It's good to know that should shit find its way to your doorstep again, you'll handle it."

"Damn right I will." You swing around so you're standing in front of Jax, arms wrapping around his waist as his go around your shoulders. "I will protect Abel with my life again and again. Never doubt that."

"Just Abel?" His eyebrow arches.

"You're a close second," you muse. Leaning up on the tips of your toes, you peck his lips. "Now seriously. Food, Teller. I need food."

"Yeah, yeah." He kisses you again. "Go home and get settled. I'll be there soon."

2 years ago

cleansing | nsfw

Connor (RK800) x Reader

synopsis: connor finds himself emotionally overwhelmed after going deviant, you’re here to help clear his head, and hopefully keep him thoughtless for a while.

warnings: very nsfw!! pegging, praise kink, android-human relationship, deviant connor.

word count: 1.5k

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The Detroit night air smells of rain and smog, the streets wet with puddles and you can faintly hear draining water. You sat out on the balcony of your apartment, it was more of a fire escape really, but it still served as your tiny gated-in sanctuary. Your lips closed around a cigarette, a nasty habit you’d picked up from work of all places. It was unwise for officers to smoke- if they want to live long enough to enjoy their pension of course.

But after witnessing so many smoke breaks of higher-ups, and you being young, dumb, and easily influenced figured you’d try.

You inhaled, allowing smoke to fill your lungs before releasing it into a thin ring from your lips.

Soft music plays in the background, a mix of your favorite music artists serenading you in what could have been a lonely night for you in the past. But no longer, for you were expecting someone. You don’t remember the last time you’d done that… allowed yourself hope, allowed yourself to giddily wait at home to be accompanied by some boy like a teenage girl. But these past few months have been rather… odd. If someone told you androids would have raised and won a revolution within a week and more than half of Detroit’s human residents would flee from the city, you’d have had a good laugh.

You were one of the few humans that decided to remain. For good reason of course.

Your eyes light up when you see an android transport stop in front of your apartment complex, and a familiar face emerges from it. You snuffed out your cigarette and stumbled back into your apartment.

.   .   .

“You’re in your head again, Connor. Come back.” Your gentle voice calls, and surely enough Connor finds himself lost in thought, his LED glowing amber. He blinks several times before his chocolate gaze settles on you above him, your fingers stopping in the middle of undoing the buttons of his shirt. You sit back on his hips, lifting a hand to brush against his cheek, and the android leans into your touch. His troubled expression remains though, and you frown.

“Sorry, detective.” Connor breathes, eyes tipping towards the ceiling, trying to brush off your concern.

Keep reading

2 years ago

I love this!! Like r u kidding me😭😭

𝐊𝐀𝐙 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐊𝐊𝐄𝐑 | 𝗌𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗍

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | kaz brekker x fem!ravkan!healer!reader.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | cursing, also don’t google what schat means if u want the full experience i’ll have it explained in the fic <3

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 | after learning y/n does not speak kerch, kaz gives her a nickname in his native language that makes her want to pull her hair out - without ever knowing its real meaning. 

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 | schat is the only dutch nickname someone can call me without seeing me cringe, i will not change my mind, ever. like, ‘liefje??’ or ‘mop??’ or ‘schatje??’ ATROCIOUS. 

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 2.4k.

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Czytaj dalej

1 year ago

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

Pairing: Jackson Rippner x f!reader Smut Warnings: smut // fingering, public sex, choking, mentions of stalking, mentions of masturbation Summary: Your parents are important political figures and Jackson Rippner has been stalking you for weeks. You're an introverted person, constantly reading to escape your daily life. But what happens when you happen to be in a bookstore, alone? Word Count: 2.6k A/N: Hello, everyone! This is my first time writing fanfiction. Hope y'all like it, it probably sucks. Oops. I've been obsessed with Jackson Rippner since the first time I watched Red Eye (lol, literally years ago), and the quantity of fics is chronically low, so here we are. Read Part 2 here.

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

You had always loved to read. It relaxed you, distracting you from the loneliness that came from everyday life. Perhaps you were so lonely because of your parents. You had never known a normal life, not by any standard. Your father, a senator, had reminded you incessantly of the public image you were to uphold. Every step, every touch, every moment was scrutinized by the media and your father’s opponents. You were well aware. Every time you stepped outside your bedroom, you almost expected a camera to be shoved into your face and questions to be thrown at you… as if you had any answers.

The harassment you had faced early on had caused an ache in your life. An ache that seemed impossible to fill. Every teenage girl dreams of experiencing relationships like the ones in the movies. But your father had insisted that such a thing would risk ruining his reputation. He could not have you consorting with someone who wouldn’t uphold his public view. Whatever. It wasn’t like anyone paid attention to you, anyway. Now, as an adult, living on your own, you still escaped to the fictional worlds upon the pages you held dear. Why contend with real life when dreamy, passionate stories await you?

Perhaps if you put your books down, people would flock to you. Maybe they would show you the admiration you had only ever read or fantasized about. But deep down, you felt that was not true. Surely if you were attractive you would have people chasing after you. Yet, such things did not happen. Not in real life, anyway. So, the books stayed in your hand, your fingers flipping through page after page as the characters written upon them experienced pleasures and intimacy you were sure you would never know.

Then again, it was not like people had never shown interest in you. It just seemed the wrong people were attracted to you. Maybe it was your fault. Maybe your standards were too high. Yet, deep down, you knew you only longed for someone to hold you. Caress your back. Treat you like you were their world. Reading soothed the ache to throw yourself at any person who showed you affection. You longed for it, yes. But not enough to accept any person who walked into your life.

Fallen leaves crunched underfoot as you walked underneath the amber-colored trees, their leaves shaking gently in the soft fall breeze. Your headphones blasted music, eyes drifting down to the cracked sidewalk as you made the familiar walk to your favorite bookstore. The bell rang as you opened the glass door, the open sign’s neon lights glaring against the store’s glass front. The smell of candles hit you like a wave as you stepped inside—the spicy pumpkin aroma drifted lazily amongst the shelves of books.

As you walked past the front desk, you noticed a sloppily written sign.

Be back soon—leave money on the front desk. - Mr. Kilone

You sighed, fingers drifting over the sign. Mr. Kilone, the store owner, was an innocent old man with a passion for books. You had spent hours talking with him about all kinds of novels, often with a cup of hot cocoa warming your hands as you laughed with him. It bothered you how trusting he was. People took advantage of naivety, you knew. You had told him as much. He had brushed it off, saying no one would bother stealing his old books.

You took off your coat, setting it behind the desk. Your sweater was warm enough, what with all the candles burning—it was a fire hazard, you supposed. You laughed at the thought, your fingers dragging along the bookcases as you walked further into the store. 

You thoughtlessly picked up books, flipping through them and then setting them back in their place. After a few more minutes, you flipped to a random page in a book you had picked up, a couple of words catching your eye. Shuffling to the back of the store, book in hand, you sat down against one of the shelves. You flipped back a couple of pages to the beginning of the scene.

You held your breath as the scene continued. The words practically leaped off the page as your mind filled with images of the scene you were reading.

His fingers plunged into her, curling deliciously as he clicked his tongue mockingly, her moans echoing…

You bite at your nails, your stomach fluttering as you read.

He nipped at her neck, grunting as he moved back and forth at a brutal pace…

The door’s bell rang. Your head snapped up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you thought of Mr. Kilone returning to his store as you read such filthy words in the back of his shop. You snapped the book shut and hustled to the front of the store, holding the book behind your back as you desperately searched for the empty slot in the bookcase.

You stopped abruptly as you saw a man crouched in front of one of the bookcases, his hair falling in front of his face as he read the book spines intently. His dress shirt was slightly unbuttoned, showing off his collarbones. You took in the formal pants and coat, the brown locks, and the sharp cheekbones. You could have sworn he stepped out of one of the books you had read.

He hears your muffled footsteps on the carpet and looks up, still crouched before the shelves. A soft smile crosses his face as he stares at you, eyes intensely meeting yours. He notices your flushed face.

“Something wrong?” He asks, standing up and brushing off his black pants. He seems to be staring into you, analyzing every little movement you make.

You shake your head, brow furrowing. “No, I- uh, nothing’s wrong. Just… didn’t expect anyone to come in here.”

“Well, it’s an open shop.”

You nod, blushing still. Swallowing nervously, you smile politely and begin to walk past him to put back the book you were holding. The shelves were placed so close together in the tiny store that you had to practically shuffle past, or else you would be forced up against the man. As you turned sideways to move past him, suddenly, your wrists were held in a tight grip.

“What-”

“Shh… what’s this book you’ve got here?” He nods toward the book in your hand.

You blush, your mouth falling open as you try to come up with words, vocal chords failing you. “I-”

“Don’t be so nervous… I know what you like to read, Y/N.” He coos, lips pressed against your ear as he pins you against the shelf.

“How… how do you know my name?” Your eyes are wide, heart pounding. Maybe you would be more frightened if his breath wasn’t hot against your neck and his scent wasn’t delightfully suffocating you.

“Oh… Y/N…” He scolds, face twisting into a smirk as he leans back to look at you. “You’ve been so easy to watch. You really should keep your blinds closed… especially when you live alone. So isolated… Tell me. Do you like being alone?”

You nod. You can essentially feel your heart pounding against your ribs, begging to be let free. The man grins and leans back in, lips against your ear.

“Don’t lie. I know the books you read in that little room of yours. How you smile and blush at words on a page. Don’t you wish that it was real?”

You begin to shake your head, wanting to deny it. He grabs your throat and shoves you further into the shelf. His grip is tight, but not unbearable. Your breath still comes easily, but his fingers press into you. He grits his teeth and looks you up and down through narrowed eyes.

“I said, don’t lie.”

“I-” Your words feel stuck in your throat.

“You what? It’s okay… you can say it.”

Silence.

“Say it.”

Eyes wide, you remain silent.

“You like reading filthy books, wishing it was real. You imagine those scenarios when you touch yourself. Say it.” He shakes you slightly, grinning cruelly as you yelp in surprise, face red.

“I- I read books because I wish it was real. And I- I imagine those scenarios when I… when I-” You stammer, stomach upset with a mixture of fear… and something you don’t care to admit. He knew too much about you… yet the thought of him watching you…

“You what? C’mon, Y/N…” He chastises.

“When I… touch myself.” You look down, mortified.

“There… that wasn’t so hard, was it? And don’t look so embarrassed, Y/N. I know far too much about you for you to be so red in the face.”

He leers, releasing your neck and leaning against the bookcase opposite you. You rub at your wrists, not knowing what to do or how to react. You think of all the nights you’ve stayed up late, reading, normally ending with your hand between your thighs. He seems to know you are realizing the implications of his admission, his lips curling into a wicked smile.

“Why- why have you been watching me? Who even are you?” You stand still, nearly frozen with fear. Yet, there it is… that burning in your stomach and between your legs, one that has never been satiated by your own fingers.

He laughs, glancing at your body.

“The name is Jackson Rippner. And I already know you’re Y/N L/N, the spoiled and precious little daughter of some fancy politician, yes?” And there it is, that sinking feeling of realization. It’s as if your body is going to sink into the floor. Your shoulders feel too heavy and your knees feel like they’re going to buckle.

“You realize now, don’t you?”

“So, why- what are you watching me for? What are you going to do?” Your bottom lip quivers and your voice shakes.

He laughs again, that same empty laugh. Like he’s trying to appear friendly.

“I suppose I should kill you. It’s what I was sent here to do, after all. Get your dear pops all worked up. But- you’ve intrigued me.”

Your brow quirks upward, heart pattering. “I’ve… intrigued you?” He nods slowly, leaning back in as he places his hands on either side of you.

“Indeed you have. You see… at first, I believed you were just some boring, spoiled brat. But the more I watched you… The more times I saw you dance around your house with those stupid headphones of yours… The more I saw you in bed, reading those books as you bit your lip and played with that perfect pussy…” He placed his index finger under your chin, lifting your eyes to meet his intense stare. “Oh, Y/N… you’ve made me very intrigued.”

He gently bites your earlobe, lips ghosting over your jaw and neck. One hand remains on your chin as the other trails down your side, resting at your waist before finding its way to your ass. He squeezes gently, causing a gasp to escape your open mouth. He chuckles against your neck.

“Oh, how I’ve wanted to be the one to make you make those pretty little noises…”

His lips trail down your neck before nipping at your collarbone. A breathless moan leaves you and he smirks against the base of your neck before pulling away. He scoffs at your state, your lips parted slightly and face red with arousal.

“Look at you… so needy and I’ve barely touched you. I would ask if you always get this worked up, but I know you do.” 

You don’t even realize you’re still holding onto the book you grabbed earlier until he reaches forward and pulls it away from you. He opens the book to the page you had held it at with your thumb. You stay frozen as he skims the page, eyes lighting up as he reads.

“Y/N… you get yourself so worked up reading such things, and then you never get satisfaction. I know your own fingers don’t make you cum… so. Why don’t you go out once in a while… have fun? Are you scared? Is that it?” Rippner teases, chuckling.

“I- yes.” You admit.

“You’ve started answering my questions… good girl.” This only makes your cheeks flush a deeper shade of red. He looks you up and down, not surprised by your reaction.

“You know… I’d like to help you with your little… issue.”

“You- you do?”

He steps closer, hand drifting underneath your shirt before cupping your breast, gently caressing it. A broken whimper leaves you, and he bites his lip playfully.

“Y/N… you’re too easy to excite.”

He leans in and finally places his lips against yours. His lips move hungrily, his hand on the back of your head, holding you close to his chest. You both stumble into the back of the store, hidden behind the rows of bookcases. Your back slams into one of the shelves and you yelp, mouth opening further, allowing Jackson’s tongue to slip into your mouth, tasting you.

You moan freely now, hands twisting into his hair and his hands frantically unbuttoning your jeans. His hand slipped into your pants, gently rubbing your clit over your underwear. You whine into his mouth.

“Shh, sh, sh. I can feel you dripping through your little panties…” He coos, biting your bottom lip.

The bell rings suddenly, and you hear Mr. Kilone’s familiar boots stamp against the carpet as he makes his way to his desk. You freeze, hands splayed against Jackson’s chest as your eyes widen with alarm.

“Stay quiet for me,” Jackson whispers in your ear as he maneuvers his fingers into your underwear, quickly slipping a finger into your wet center. You stifle a moan, face held against his shoulder. His finger fills you nicely as it pumps gently into you, curling against your walls.

He adds a second finger and you whine, a little too loud. He stops, placing his hand over your mouth, fingers still inside you. Mr. Kilone shuffles around near his desk and you both listen closely, anxious he’ll walk into the back of the store and see you in your compromising position. After a few seconds, Jackson begins to curl his two fingers into you again, keeping his one hand over your mouth.

Your hips rock against his fingers and he smirks. “There we go… good girl, fucking herself on my fingers.

Jackson sucks on your neck as his fingers move faster into you, plunging further than your fingers ever could. He hears your muffled moans increase in frequency. Your pussy flutters around his fingers and he grins, reveling in the feeling. You can only hope the wet sounds from the back of the store don’t draw Mr. Kilone’s attention.

Your stomach coils and your brow furrows—Jackson can tell that you’re close. So fucking close.

“Ah… you want me to let you cum? Hm? Is that it?” He mockingly whispers.

You nod, desperate for him to pull you over the edge, the feeling becoming too much to bear. He presses his lips to your ear, fingers moving even faster.

“Cum for me…”

Your body convulses delightfully as the pleasure overwhelms you. Your head is thrown back against the shelf as you moan against his hand, his fingers fucking you through your orgasm.

“Good girl… such a good girl for me.” He murmurs. He kisses you softly before pulling away to admire you as your chest rises and falls and your eyes look at him with satisfaction. He brings his fingers to his lips as he looks at you and gently licks his fingers clean, groaning softly at the taste of you.

“So sweet... But next time, I want to taste you with my tongue…” He whispers as he kisses you again.

“Next time?” You question, brow raised as he buttons your jeans for you.

He looks you up and down, eyes oddly emotionless as he smirks. “I know where you live, just make sure to open up when I knock.” And with that, he turns and walks away, politely greeting Mr. Kilone as he leaves the store, the bell ringing.

𝒲𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒾𝓃𝑔? - Part One

Thank you so much for reading! So sorry if this was bad, it's literally my first time ever writing a fic. <3

1 year ago

sebastian vettel’s music video era is on the brain CONSTANTLY. (aka the watch me work by melanie fiona music video except it’s only the sebastian vettel parts)

1 year ago
FERNANDO ALONSO                          One Must Fight.       (aka Very
FERNANDO ALONSO                          One Must Fight.       (aka Very
FERNANDO ALONSO                          One Must Fight.       (aka Very

FERNANDO ALONSO                          one must fight.       (aka very important back shots)

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slapmewithacroc - Inlovewithmanymen
Inlovewithmanymen

Still not over chapter 40 of crooked kingdom.

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