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got-the-cheese-touch · 4 months ago

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More Than a Name - prologue

Harry Potter x Sirius Black's Daughter!Reader

slowburn harry potter x reader

summary: your childhood is tragic. but then you meet Remus Lupin. and he helps you plant roots.

content: angst will turn into fluff, dw (wolfstar if you stare really hard at it for too long) try to find the all the young dudes reference.

a/n: okay, here's the prologue. i'm really nervous, i've never shared my writing so hopefully it's not shitty.

trigger warnings: this contains pretty heavy stuff!!! reader was told she had hallucinations. abuse in a hospital/foster care setting. mentions of her mistreatment. remus was not mentally well after sirius died, so there are some mental health issues implied. user was put on meds and therapy testing. its character development, y'all i swear i have a plan. no use of y/n, i describe the reader being small (only because she's a little kid rn)

word count: ~ 4k

ty to @thecutestgrotto for the dividers <3

Your childhood was one that was void of certainty. You existed through suitcases and trunks that were never unpacked. A bedroom never decorated. A plant with no roots can never truly grow. You yourself were the result of something short lived. A one night stand. Your mother was young when you were born. Too young to want to keep you. Your father? As tangible as the wind itself. You were told he was arrested before he could meet you, before he could take you in. (You’d learn later that he cried harder when he heard you were in the muggle foster system than when he learned his sentence for Azkaban. He knew what happened to young wizards on their own.) If only he could have protected you from the inexplicable events that wreaked mayhem wherever you went.

Hospitals would diagnose you, medicate you, and try to pick your brain. Hippie foster families would try to meditate away the craziness in your mind. Hallucinations, they said. A teenage girl running straight into the brick wall dividing platforms at King’s Cross. A woman that became a cat. Owls flutter about during the day. They were all things that should’ve been cured by pills. Foster families were frightened by your condition. Hospitals were perplexed. Special homes wanted to cure you with alternative practice. (The smell of sage still makes you want to vomit.)

But it all changed the day two, kind looking men came and visited you in the St. Bernadette’s Home for Mentally Troubled Youth. The last resort. You sat on the bed, waiting for a med call. Your legs kicked impatiently, your arms were scarred and you picked nervously at your skin; so far in your own haze that you didn’t see the door open. You had scars from injection treatment, punishment from teachers, from angry foster parents, or the cruelty of other children. You were unhealthy. Your hair was wild, so were your eyes. His eyes. It startled Remus when he saw just how much you resemble your father. That wildness in your eyes, the way you sat with a bouncing leg. He saw your scars and the bruises around your wrists from being roughed by medical staff. He wanted to throw up.

The creak of the wooden floor startled you. Your eyes shot up, expecting to see the angry glare of a doctor. Instead, you saw two strangers. The first was an old man with a long white beard. You were never lucky enough or so well behaved that you got visits from Santa Claus but you guessed that this is what he’d look like. He was thinner than the magical man who delivered gifts, though. He smiled at you and tilted his head, correcting the small glasses he wore on his nose. He looked at you like he knew you all your life, like he had known you before you were born. Trailing a bit behind him was a taller, nervous looking man. His sweater was pushed to his elbows and you saw his skin was scarred like yours. But his were older, deeper. Like he had tried to claw his way out of his skin. He had curly hair and sharp eyes. Not unfriendly, you thought, but withered. Like he spent his whole life waiting for a rest that wouldn’t come. When the older man spoke your name, you almost didn’t recognize it.

You hadn’t heard your name spoken so softly. It was foreign.

He sat down next to you and shook your hand. It was the first touch that you felt in a long time that wasn’t punishing.

“I am Albus Dumbledore.” He said with a smile, like he’s letting you in on a secret. “Do you know who I am, young lady?” he chuckled softly when you shook your head. “No? I figured.”

“Sir, we don’t have much time.” The nervous man’s voice was rasping and cozy. Like a scratchy woolen blanket, you thought.

“Yes, yes,” Dumbledore waved his hand dismissively, turning back to you “I’ve come to take you away from here, child. I’m terribly sorry I took so long. I’ve only just come to learn about your state here, please forgive me.” He truly sounded regretful. Like he himself had scarred you. “How would you like a new school? A new place to live?”

“What- Take me away?” You said, scrambling up, panicked. They’d take you to another hospital, somewhere worse. You always went somewhere worse once people picked you up from your foster homes and schools. “No, no, please I’m doing better. I'll do the therapy, the- the testing. I can’t- please, please- I’ve been trying-” Your breath was shaky, pleading. The tall man with the sweater looked away.

Remus wanted to cry. He bit the inside of his cheek and tried to focus on anything except the fact that you were Sirius’s daughter. That you were so much like him. But you weren’t like the bright, lively boy whom he spent his youth with. You were like the dull, timid creature who survived hell in Grimmauld place.

“I promise you, it will be better, child. I can’t explain much now but we know the place for you, alright dear? You’ll be hurt no longer, I swear it.” the old man held out a wrinkly pinky finger, adorned with rings. A promise. You didn’t trust him, but you knew that adults didn’t like when you didn’t follow what they said. You looped your finger around his and nodded.

Minutes later, you were out of the gloomy brick building that was St. Bernadette’s. You packed up your suitcase (not much packing was needed) and you were out. Just like that. The two men had stepped away from you for a moment. The taller one was upset. The two talked in hushed voices.

“Professor, I- I can’t. In my state? I’m not- not fit for a child, let alone Sirius’s child.” You didn’t know who Sirius was.

“You’re the closest family she has now. Her and Harry, poor things.” You didn’t know a Harry either. “There will be help for you, Remus. When your condition flares up, she will be in good hands. Hagrid can watch her, so can Minerva. But we cannot have her in a Muggle’s care any longer. Look at the poor thing.” Dumbledore placed a hand on Remus’s shoulder. “I trust you with this Lupin; he would’ve trusted you too.” With that, Dumbledore strolled inside, to talk to the doctors, you assumed.

You were sitting on the steps outside of the building as the old man talked with the doctor’s inside. Next to you, the tall man who had yet to speak to you sat on the step. You learned his name was Remus. His long legs stretched in front of him. He said your name, just as gently as Dumbledore had.

“How old are you, mate?” He asked, glancing over at you, moving your small suitcase out of the puddle you had put it down in. You thought for a moment.

“I’m six and a half.” You replied. You weren’t sure if you really had gained that half of a year but the number made you sound older, stronger. It seemed to take something out of Remus though. He ran a hand through his hair and let out a sigh. He looked tired again.

“Merlin, Padfoot, what have you done?” He said to himself. Six years. Six years since James and Lily. Six years since Sirius. Six years since that cowardly rat, Wormtail disappeared. Six years old. She's so young, he thought. The two of you sat in silence for a few moments.

“I was a lot like you, you know.” He said, not making eye contact. “I went to a school like this one. Where people tried to help me but never could.” He pulled at a weed that sprouted between the cracks of the step. He turned it between his fingers before tossing it.

“Is that where you got those scars?” You ask. Your voice was quiet but curious, you didn’t want to offend him.

“Some of them. But most of ‘em have faded.” He didn’t offer any more explanation than that. You didn’t pry. He pulled out his wallet. It contained a few bills you didn’t recognize, an old train ticket, a few coins, and a crumpled up photo. He slid out the page and unfolded it, holding it out for you to see. The bodies on the page seemed to move. You needed your medication, your hallucinations were vivid. Almost real. “Look here, kid.” He pointed to a figure “Here I am,” he slid his finger to another figure on the paper, the face too old and blurry to make out. “That there is Sirius. That’s your dad.” You stared at the shifting figure. You didn’t have the chance to say anything. Dumbledore walked outside, slipping what looked like a stick into a pocket of his robe. How silly, you thought.

After a word with Remus, Dumbledore had seemingly vanished out of thin air and you walked hand in hand with the tall man, away from the terrible building. You got onto a train with him, still waiting for the moment you’d learn about the new trial they’d test on you or the new medicine that would make you stop hallucinating. You fell asleep curled up into the seat. Remus felt a tug at his ribs. You were too much like Sirius.

When you woke up, you were in bed. It was small but it was more comfortable than any bed in any hospital you'd ever been in. When Remus checked in on you, he explained a few things. You were going to live with him for a while and that you should try to call this place home.

He made you toast. He spread out four different kinds of spread on each corner and cut it nicely. Moony toast, he called it. You ate it alongside him quietly. You’d be happy to stay with him if you could eat toast like this.

“Are you my new dad?” You asked between bites. This made him flinch. He thought about what to say for a long time before he sighed.

“Just eat your toast, mate.”

Life with Remus wasn’t easy, but it was happy. You finally had roots. You laughed with him and he’d patch up your knees when you fell. He’d disappear for a few days every month and he’d come back looking hurt but you got used to it. Besides, kind people watched you while he was gone. Sometimes, a cat would just sit on the window and watch you when you were alone. She would let you pet her while Remus went on day trips to get his own medication. You thought it was weird but you couldn’t complain.

For the first time, you had your own room. You decorated it with Remus, too. You folded paper and made little garlands. He gave you some posters from your dad. He gave you lots of Sirius’s stuff, in fact. Your favorite was an old worn leather jacket. It swallowed you up but you would use it as a blanket at night. You imagined your dad wearing it. It made Remus happy when you wore it. So you rarely took it off. You also got lots of photos. Boxes of them. Some were taken from Sirius’s camera, which Remus kept for himself. This time, when you saw some of these photos moving, you learned they weren’t hallucinations.

When you were old enough, Dumbledore came back. You remembered his kindness so you trusted him fully when he explained to you about wizards and witches. You were sad when you learned of your father and his crimes. Remus tensed when Dumbledore explained this.

Dumbledore told you everything, not even leaving out Remus’s lycanthropy. You never felt frightened. You loved your Remus. (You finally understood why the people that looked after you in his absence called him Moony.) For the first time, you weren’t afraid when you learned about a new school for you. Hogwarts was a magical school. One without doctors or therapy trials. You were excited to go and you would count the days to receive your acceptance letter.

The only upsetting thing, surprisingly, was when you realized that you weren’t a psycho.

That you never hallucinated or needed therapy.

You didn’t need to go through all of that testing.

The homes, the abuse, the scars and bruises.

You bled for nothing.

You weren't a kid who needed to be hit, you just needed a parent.

When he saw the look on your face, Remus became upset at this. He didn't like to think about what you went through. Didn't like thinking about the time before you were a silly, crazy kid. When you were small and bruised and looked like a caged animal. Like a wild dog.

Remus wiped his cheek.

You were mad. Mad at your teachers and doctors and previous foster parents. You were mad at your dad. Very mad at your dad. He couldn’t be there for you so you suffered. It’s his fault you were a wizard, it was his blood that made you be this way. It's him who made you see these things, so you blamed him.

Remus told you stories about Sirius to try to reassure you about your father. That he was good. He was funny and bright and just like you. It didn’t help though. You still resented Sirius. Maybe he wasn’t a killer, but he wasn’t there for you like he should have been. You heard stories of his family and friends. How he was a prankster. You loved to hear stories about him. Not because of your affection for your father, though.

You liked to hear stories of Sirius because Remus was happier talking about the past. He looked younger and brighter, a weight lifted when he told his stories. He darkened when you asked where his friends were; where Lily and James were. (You got him to tell you the full story a year later. He was adamant that your father wasn’t a killer. You agreed. Sirius Black wasn't guilty. After all, your Moony wouldn’t speak so fondly of a murderer.)

When you turned eleven and your letter for Hogwarts finally came, you were sad to leave. You were given a magic wand from Dumbledore which you were very scared you were going to break. You got books and supplies, all from the headmaster. You even got a nice letter from the cat who would watch you sometimes while Remus was away. This confused you. Apparently she taught there. (How a cat could teach a class at a school, you had no idea) This made Remus chuckle. "Good old Minnie." He murmured. You had no clue who Minnie was.

You packed up your bags and trunk. (which took a lot longer than it had in the past) and you went with Remus to the famed platform where a train would take you away to Hogwarts. You were scared. You didn’t want to be sent away again. Remus was reassuring, holding your hand the whole time. Even as you heard the train approaching the station. You noticed the looks people gave the two of you.

People who knew the tragedy of The Marauders, people who thought they knew the loss. Remus shrugged it off. “Just people I haven’t seen in a while, kid. Don’t think too much about it.”

He gave you explicit instructions. He showed you a newspaper and pointed to the boy on the cover. He was scrawny and he wore wire framed glasses. He had stringy brown hair. Harry was his name and Remus told you to find him quickly and become his friend. He was James and Lily's son.

He said you’d do each other some good; being tied together by the fraying strings of a friendship so close, it may have been a family. Harry was alone and you understood being alone.

The train whistled, signalling the need for students to board. You looked at Remus and you started to cry. He pulled you into a hug. You didn’t realize he was crying too until you felt the wetness of his tears against your shoulder. He sniffed as he held you tightly. He loved you. He was just as much your father as Sirius was.

As he held you, he thanked whatever was up in the universe for sending you to him. He was on the brink of giving up when Dumbledore urged him to come save you from the terrible institution. Your childlike chaos filled the halls of his home that were once stuffy with grief. He once prayed and wished that he could look into Sirius’s eyes again - to hear his laugh. You gave him that.

“Okay, kid” He pulled back from you and put his hands on either side of your head, kissing your hair with his eyes shut. You cried, looking up at him. He clutched onto Sirius’s leather jacket, Pulling it over your robes. It was still big on you but it wasn’t blanket sized anymore. Merlin, he really didn’t want you to leave.

“Will I ever see you again, Moony?” You sobbed, looking up at him. You were desperate not to leave.

His heart cracked. You thought he was sending you away for good. He said your name with a sniff, hugging you as another tear slipped “Oh, my dear of course you will. You’ll be home for Christmas, I promise.” He looked at you with an intensity, memorizing your little face before he had to say goodbye. With one last tight hug and a kiss on the head, he sent you off and watched as you scuttled into the train.

Once on board, you were met with so much energy. Older and younger kids in a bustle of movement. You had never seen so many children so happy. Sure, you met kids at your past institutions but they were never lively. All of them were as beaten down as you used to be. But these kids, all dressed in robes like your own were joyful. You walked nervously down the line of compartments, Remus’s words looping through your mind. Harry Potter, just find Harry. He’ll be your friend. It’s in your blood.

You passed some menacing kids in dark robes with green. They were calling other kids on the train names that you didn’t understand but you decided that you wanted to stay under their radar. You saw a couple of teenagers bullying a younger boy holding a toad. You decided then that you didn’t like those people wearing green. They all seemed dreadful.

After you passed all the horrible green-robed students, you were frantic to find an empty compartment. All of these kids already had friends. Your only friend was Moony, you didn’t know the first thing about meeting other people. Eventually you found an empty compartment and you sat down alone. You held on tightly to the leather jacket over your robes, knuckles white as you watched the landscape pass.

You were used to the silence, the hum of the car relaxing. But you didn’t get much time to revel in your lonesome because the compartment opened and a small boy stepped in shyly. The one kid on the train that you knew.

He was thin with unbrushed hair. He looked like the man in some of Sirius's polaroids, you thought. Except his eyes. They were a stunning green.

“Is it okay if I sit with you?” He asked, pushing up his glasses, the nosepiece held together with tape. You nodded. “I’m Harry. Harry Potter.” He held out his hand for you to shake, which you took, greeting him as he sat down. He was just as nervous as you. But he seemed happy, excited.

You were just dreading being away from the only home you’ve known.

“It’s nice to meet you,” You said after you introduced yourself. “I was told to try to find you.” Harry was worried. He thought you’d barrage him with questions about the Dark Lord or ask him confusing questions that he didn’t understand. But instead you smiled nervously. “Our dads were best mates when they were in school.”

Harry smiled.

AAAH, if you read this far thank you. i really think this could be a cool series and i like how i'm planning to write the characters.

please tell me if you like this and if I should write the next chapter that's been brewing in my mind cauldron.

peace and love <33

(likes are appreciated but i'll fall in love with you if you reblog)

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millie-multifics · 1 month ago

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A Volatile Yellow Flame

Dr. Robby x Reader

You had not expected to find Frank's mentor so charming, nor had you expected him to help you so willingly in your time of need and utter embarrassment. Your attempt to repay Dr. Robby becomes something unexpected but the emotional fallout of Pitt Fest has the potential to ruin it all.

My submission for the A Doctor A Day writing event. Had so much fun participating and this ended up being one of my favourite things to write! @letsgobarbs @clubsoft @ananonymousaffair

Prompt #10: "My smiles are a little fake these days, what have you done to me?"

Colour: Yellow

Warnings: Methodical slowish burn, angst, Robby is emotionally constipated of course, unspecified age gap, kissing and vague references to sex but no actual smut. Reader has a uterus and accidental IUD removal occurs.

Word Count: ~3.6k

Masterlist

x x x

It had stung at first, your nearly ten-year relationship fizzling out as all of your friends’ planned weddings and prepared for soon-to-be arriving children but being single was something you had surprisingly quickly grew accustomed to. You enjoyed the independence and freedom after the rather amicable split with your ex-partner. Meeting Robby had been completely unexpected.

You had known Frank for a long time and your quickly blossoming friendship with Abby had guaranteed you an invitation to their shower for baby #2.

Frank waved you over to the grill, where he and two other men stood tending to the food while nursing the few chilled beers Abby allowed them to sneak in.

Doctors Jack Abbot and “Robby”, two names you had heard frequently in Franks HIPAA censored rants and retellings.

Your presence had caught Robby off guard. Your sundress was simple with small yellow daisies embroidered on the flowy hem, it hugged your frame perfectly, and the imperfections of your skin emphasised your natural beauty under the suns glow.

He watched you silently, listening to you tease Frank about welcoming two under two. Robby missed the comment that Jack made as your buttery laugh nearly had Robby falling to his knees. He had to get a hold of himself… not that you were fairing any better.

He was undoubtably older than you by many years, but he was undeniably handsome. Tall and broad shouldered, patches of gray throughout his hair and beard added to your attraction, while wrinkles and laugh lines acquired with aging softened his features.

Jacks elbow landing sharply in his ribs had him nodding along, agreeing that it was nice to meet you before you departed to retrieve the mocktail you had promised the expectant mother.

“Get a hold of yourself, brother.” Jack warned, his knowing smirk continuing throughout the day each time he caught Robby’s gaze wandering across the yard.

“Hey, what’s the deal with Franks friend, uh- Dr. Robby?” You found yourself asking Abby as you helped cleanup the toys and stray drink cups left behind after the barbeque had ended.

“If this is you asking me if Robby is single, then yes, he is very much single.” Abby assured, her mind already swirling with possibilities to bring the two of you together in the near future.

When Abby had mentioned needing a hand with setting up the new nursery, you quickly volunteered your upcoming free weekend. Frank and Robby were none the wiser when that weekend just happened to overlap with their previously planned day of building the new crib over beers and a Steelers game.

You wished Abby had given you a heads up; your faded jeans and worn-out oversized t-shirt suddenly felt too relaxed when you walked into the freshly painted nursery to find Frank and Robby seated on the floor, surrounded by crib pieces. Frank’s foot tapped as he sat with a rather disinterested look on his face. Robby on the other hand looked at ease in his cargo pants and soft sweater, black framed glasses sliding down his nose as he leaned forward to read the building manual.

“Perfect, you’re here.” Frank perked up, nodding the empty space beside him. You stepped over the dissembled frame, avoiding eye contact with Robby as to not blush under his observing, lingering gaze. You knelt on the rug, hands moving to replace Frank’s as he attempted to hold a beam straight.

He immediately stood, stretching his arms over his head before retracing your footsteps to the door. “I’m tapping out”

“We just started.” Robby scoffed in disbelief.

You focused your gaze on the open instruction booklet to hide the way your body flushed from the dual rough and smooth tones of his voice.

“Piecing a body back together? I can do, but assembling furniture is way outside my realm of capabilities.” Frank knocked his knuckles against the pale-yellow wall as he ducked out of the room before either of you could argue, engulfing you and Robby in a slightly awkward silence.

“Looks like it’s just you and me, kid.” Robby shook his head, eyes drifting from the empty doorway to you. He scanned your face, eyes darting to meet yours when you finally found the courage to look up from the instruction manual.

“If it makes you feel better, I did build Tanner’s crib, essentially by myself.” You’re proud of yourself for keeping the nervous shake out of your voice, your teasing tone easing any more awkwardness before it had a chance to settle in the room.

Your third encounter with Robby was unfortunately one of the most embarrassing moments of your entire life.

Robby’s shift had just ended, his body aching and craving sleep but a familiar voice made him pause as he attempted to escape through the ever-so busy waiting room.

“Just stop talking. Please.” Your voice, hushed and harsher than he had ever heard it. His eyes scanned the full chairs; finding you sitting with a man that was roughly your age whom was on the receiving end of your wrath. Your shoulders were hunched, your arms cradling your lower abdomen told him that was the reason you were there in the first place.

Your name leaving his lips felt like a bucket of cold water washing over you. You straightened in your seat to give the illusion that nothing was wrong, but Robby easily spotted the wince and moisture gathered along your lash line from unshed tears.

“Robby?” Your voice cracked from your pain and you curled in on yourself, forehead resting against your knees as you kept your arms wrapped around your midsection. “Ugh, this can’t be happening right now.”

“Hey, look at me, honey.” Robby dropped his backpack onto the floor between your feet, kneeling to meet your gaze. “What’s wrong?”

You swallowed the thickness gathering in your throat, both from pain and embarrassment. “He pulled out my IUD.”

Your words were muffled but Robby heard them loud and clear, one hand subconsciously finding your leg to steady himself. His thumb rubbed along the inside of your knee to comfort you as he glared at the man on your left.

“Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Robby’s knees creaked as he stood, slinging his bag over his shoulder. You stood, your body naturally leaning closer to Robby and away from the culprit of your pain. “You should go, I’ve got it from here.”

“Wait!” Mark- or Mike, you really didn’t care anymore to remember, dug into his pocket, “You might need this.”

You and Robby stared at the small white and yellow plastic piece he had dropped into your hand, the IUD in question that he had apparently been storing in the pocket of his shorts.

“Put this on.” Robby handed you a gown as he led you into a small, empty room. “Luckily, the IUD seemed fully intact but we have to check for any uterine damage, especially if you’re currently experiencing pain. I’m going to grab one of the other doctors to examine you.”

>Hey, I hope it’s okay that I asked Frank for your number

>Could I buy you a beer or dinner as a thank you for the rescue the other night?

>>Don’t worry about it, it’s quite literally my job

>>Tell your boyfriend to be more careful next time

>Not my boyfriend, just some lousy Tinder date

>Are you sure that I can’t buy you a beer?

The quietly growing attraction of your previous encounters had begun to bubble over the moment you met Robby at a local bar for the beer you had promised him. Your yearning increasing as he stood to greet you, his dark washed jeans and buttoned shirt just enough to straddle the line between casual and more. The deep yet subtle spice of the cologne he rarely wore had you in a daze the entire night.

You had been relaxed and casual every other time Robby had seen you but tonight you leaned into sultry. The subtle exposure of skin, soft and glittery under the glow of the neon yellow sign on the wall had Robby feeling as though he had been hypnotized since the moment you sat down. The bar grew louder as the night went on, you had slipped into the booth beside Robby to hear him over the noise. Your warm thigh pressed against his knee and his arm spread across the back of the booth, the space between slowly decreasing until last call from the bartender. Like a gentleman, Robby had insisted on walking you home.

The roughness of his beard felt heavenly brushing against your skin as your lips met in the hall of your apartment building. His large hands cradled your jaw, thumbs pressing into the tender spots behind your ears as he deepened the kiss. Your hands clung to his jacket, clenching the fabric tightly in your fists to anchor your bodies as close as you possibly could.

You gasped for breath, resting your forehead against his shoulder, eyes shut as your chests heaved.

“This is a bad idea.” Robby muttered, lips pressing gently into your hairline. “We should stop.”

“We should stop.” You agreed, voice rough with desire before you dragged him back down to your height to reconnect your lips.

It had been difficult to adjust your schedule at first. You were used to spending your free evenings and days off as you pleased, but the desire to spend every waking moment with Robby ultimately prevailed. He wanted to spend just as much time with you too, craving the comfort of your presence and excitement of your touch.

Carefully planned dinner dates shifted as you grew more comfortable with each other, morphing into quiet movie nights and early mornings spent in bed ignoring the echo of your alarms. Things were good, stable.

Then Pitt Fest happened and everything shifted beneath your feet. Robby had faced a day from hell; the fifth anniversary of his mentor’s death, the discovery of Frank’s addiction, Leah ending up in his care and Jake’s radio silence ever since all wrapped up with a neat bow and thrown onto his doorstep. Jack had called you the minute Robby left the park, worried about his friend’s headspace after finding him on the rooftop. You tried your best to help him in any way he would let you, but you weren’t naïve enough to ignore the way that day had changed him.

You had noticed it first; more nights being spent at home on your couch alone rather than with Robby. You had tried to convince yourself that it wasn’t any one person’s fault, that both of you were guilty of rain checking plans due to your fleeting schedules.

If anyone else inquired, the truth would be made clear by your text chain, exposing Robby’s growing affinity for overtime and covering shifts when he most definitely deserved the day off. The quiet independence you had once savoured and craved began to felt crushing with each changed planned.

Your one-year anniversary had been circled in red on your calendar with a heart, reservation made at the one high-end restaurant in Pittsburgh that you and Robby enjoyed. He had to work of course but promised to leave with enough time to shower and choose his best suit.

You were already anxiously watching the clock when he texted you.

>>Running late

You chewed your lip at its predictability.

>I’ll meet you at your place to cut down on time.

It would cut down the 20 minutes commute between your places and another 20 to the restaurant as it was closer to his apartment anyway.

You stood in front of Robby’s closet, inspecting the three suits he owned. Choosing the tailored black one, you moved onto tie choices, pleasantly surprised by the plentiful options compared to suit choices. You selected the tie that matched closely to your dress without encroaching on cheesy territory. You searched his room for cuff links, settling on the likelihood that they would be tucked away in one of his drawers. You hummed in delight as you found a small black box tucked under his neatly paired socks.

Robby appeared in the doorway as you flipped open the box, both of you freezing as you stared at the sparkling diamond engagement ring.

“That’s not-“ He cut himself off. There was no way to tell you the truth without hurting you in someway. “That’s not meant for you.”

“I was looking for cufflinks.” You shut the box with a harsh snap, returning it to the place you had found it. Your hands began to shake as his words sliced through your chest. “You should change, wouldn’t want to miss our reservation now, would we?"

It was the first time in your relationship that things truly felt awkward. The drive to the restaurant filled with silence, neither knowing what to say. Robby had no idea how to tell you that he had bought that ring years ago, for Heather. He had no answer that would be productive about why he still had it, why he had kept it in that drawer even though he had assured you that their relationship had long been over and they were merely co-workers, and sometimes friends. How could he tell you that she had recently confessed that she had been pregnant with his baby all those years ago? That it had opened his mind to a world of possibilities and what ifs that he had longed for- some that heartbreakingly did not include you.

Dinner was no better, an awkwardness settling over the table as your thoughts ran wild. You were too distracted to hear Robby’s jokes about the menu, or his desperate compliment on how beautiful you looked that evening. Your eyes stayed glued to the candle in the centre of the table, watching the yellow flame flicker as you strained to keep your tears at bay.

You had willed yourself back into the moment before dessert, offering Robby a soft smile as he ordered tiramisu to share just as you had done every other time you had dined there. Your hand rested on his knee the whole drive home, surprised when he arrived to your apartment rather than his. You walked to the door hand in hand, a suffocating anticipation running through your veins. He pressed your body against the door, the moment reminiscent of your first kiss in the same very spot exactly one year ago.

Robby pulled away with a hum, chin resting on your soft hair to savour the familiar scent of your shampoo. “I should go.”

Your disappointment filled eyes searched his large browns ones for an explanation.

“I have an early shift in the morning.”

“Okay.” You accepted his hollow excuse with a nod, fingers clutching the lapels of his jacket as he stepped out of your space. “I love you.”

He paused, leaning forward to place a single, tender kiss on the crest of your head. You lay in bed alone that night, his silence and the absence of him returning the three words keeping you awake. Your mind replaying all of your recent interactions, desperately seeking the last time he had told you he loved you.

Your last relationship had remained perfect until its very last moments, no nasty arguments or infidelity, merely a love that had fizzled into friendship. This time though, you could feel your relationship with Robby slipping through your fingers, it terrified you because you truly couldn’t picture a life without him at your side.

The last place you wanted this conversation to take place was at the hospital, but it was the one place you could guarantee finding him as now he seemed to be avoiding you completely.

Lupe buzzed you into the emergency department, recognizing you from when you would bring Robby that coffee he liked and treats for the rest of the staff. You looked around The Pitt, Robby was nowhere in sight but Jack was hunched over one of the computers.

“Hey, Jack. You know where I could find Robby?”

He studied you for a moment with his usual stare, “Just went towards the pedes room.”

You nodded in thanks, crossing to the opposite end of the department. An anxious sigh escaped you as you turned the corner, spotting Robby and Dana conversing with their backs to you. Your hand a mere inch away from tapping Robby’s broad shoulder when Dana mentioned you.

“How’s your girl doing? It’s been a while since she’s been around.”

“I think things are over between us.”

The words rung in your ears like tinnitus. Robby’s tone that usually offered you comfort suddenly made you feel like you were going to vomit. Jack had noted the small shake in your voice and the uncertainty painted on your face when you had asked for Robby, his concern that something was wrong had him trailing you, wanting to make sure you found Robby okay. In no way did he expect for you to suddenly turn on your heel and barrel into him with tears pouring down your cheeks. He caught your form with a large hand as you stumbled.

“You cannot tell Robby I was here.” You pleaded, fingers desperately swiping at the unstoppable river of tears. “Please, Jack.”

While your relationship seemed to be over for Robby, he had yet to explicably express that to you and delaying his knowledge that you knew what was coming meant you could hold onto him for just a little while longer.

“Please?”

“Okay.”

Your eyes were glued to your phone, doom scrolling through socials without actively stopping to engage with any posts as another episode of the latest trashy reality show played in the background. A thick blanket covered your frame despite the temperature outside leaning toward summer heat. Half a pint of your favourite ice-cream sat melting on the coffee table where a harsh ray of sun peaked through the curtains.

The silliness you felt for letting your feelings control you this much only added to your sour mood; your previous breakup had been a cakewalk compared to this and that relationship had been much more long-term than your year with Robby.

A knock on the door made you frown; an unexpected visitor was the last thing you wanted right now. You decided to ignore it, only heaving your body off the couch as a harsher knock echoed through your apartment.

“Abby, there is a reason why I haven’t answered any of your 30 calls!” Your voiced raised so she could hear you through the door before you yanked it open. Your body froze when you found Robby standing in the hallway, still in his scrubs. You glanced at the clock on the wall above the door, it was barely past 7:00 pm but that meant you had spent the past six hours moping on the couch.

“Jack told you.” You scoffed, leaving Robby standing in the open door as you retreated back to your sunken spot.

“Jack? Lupe asked if you’d found me alright, said she let you back.” He stepped into your apartment, shutting the door behind him. “It’s not like you to show up like that then leave, wanted to make sure you were okay.”

How could he be so sweet and caring while simultaneously ripping your heart out of your chest?

You kept your eyes on the television, cheeks and nose burning as you fought not to cry.

“My smiles are a little fake these days, what have you done to me?” The question is dry and harsh, words aimed to hurt. You no longer felt like yourself, your usual disposition splintered by stress and lingering unknowns. You craved an argument, you needed to see Robby display any type of fight for you before you crumbled in irreparable despair.

“Honey, look at me.” He knelt by your feet just the way he had that day in the waiting room, hands roughly cradling your jaw as he forced you to look at him. “Please, look at me.”

“You told Dana that we were done.”

“I have made so many mistakes. You don’t deserve to spend your nights alone, or to question whether or not you are loved.” His dark eyes wide and glossy, sad and full of desperation. “You deserve someone with their shit together. It’s agonizing that I can’t be that guy for you because I love you so damn much and it kills me to think of you finding that with someone else.”

You lurched forward, arms enveloping Robby as you sobbed into his neck. “But I don’t want anyone else, Michael, I only want you.”

His arms circled your waist, hugging you tightly as he lowered your body from the sharp angle you had been dangling off the couch. One of his large hands moved to cradle the back of your skull, hand soothingly brushing through your hair as he cooed to calm you. “I am so fucking sorry, honey.”

You stayed on the floor, savouring each others warmth as your trashy reality show continued to play in the background. Unbothered by the copious amount of time passing, or the aches filling your body from being on the ground.

“I missed this,” You breathed, “I missed you.”

His cheek rested against your temple, eyes closed as he allowed himself to be soothed by the beating of your heart under the palm he had splayed on your back. “I missed you, too.”

You were still here; you still loved and needed him in spite of all his flaws. He would make it right for you, starting by replacing the ring tucked away in his drawer with one only meant for you.

#ADOCTORADAY #ADAD2025 #dr robby x reader #the pitt #dr robinavitch #dr robby #dr robby angst #dr michael robinavitch #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt hbo #thepitt #the pitt x reader #the Pitt writing event #the pitt writing challenge

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vsurg3-c · 8 months ago

Text

Part one

Continuing on my apocalyptic concept for task force 141

You begin to notice that there would now always be four men resting on the balcony of your shelter, unbothered by the fact that sometimes hordes and hordes of undead are trying to crawl up the bricks of the stone building.

And instead of fleeing every damn noon, they use their guns from what you can see (and hear) from the boarded up windows of your home to get rid of the more agile undead, protecting you.

At first, you pay them no bother, thinking they'd just lounge around for a while before leaving for their journey rather than being in this repetitive way of surviving, but you were just so damn wrong.

After a particularly rough noon with some of the undead nearly getting their rotting grasps on you due to the weakening of the wooden boards you used for protection(which broke down during the bell ringing), all but while task force 141 was out for scavenging.

They come back to the center of the village after the raid of undead had dispersed, and saw the open(broken down) window in your shelter and they all but immediately hauls their asses out there.

Johnny manages to climb to the balcony first, calling out as he peeked through the broken down window. “Bonnie?' Ye' in there?" Asking with his gun raised, alert and worried for the lass only to be met with also a gun pointed at him, specifically a double barrel shotgun.

You stare at the man with the mohawk for a while, bisecting every bit of him with your gaze as you cautiously spoke. “Bitten or not?” “nae', warm as a sweater lass.”

You slowly lower the gun to Johnny's relief just as the other three managed to climb up the balcony, looking at you with concerned gazes. “We mean no harm.” the man with the beard said, which you learned to be Price, the captain. “Are ye' the one ringin' the bell?" Johnny butted in, and you finally lowered the shotgun fully and nodding.

“Yes.”

@beloveds-embrace

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good-ju-ju · 6 days ago

Text

A Sunday kind of love

Ben Grimm x Kryptonian!F!Reader

Being with Benjamin Grimm, sometimes crudely addressed as The Thing, was easy in a way you had yet to feel in your years before meeting him.

From farm life, labeled as Hicksville by one Johnny Storm upon your first informal visit to the Baxter building, to life in the heart of the city as a feeble journalist by day and goddess among men by anytime the human race is in trouble night. You have had years of hiding away parts of yourself before he came along.

Years of dreaming for someone to dole out understanding or acceptance of your less than earthly origins clashing with the upbringing of careful conditioning not to be too much than a human girl and, eventually, woman of the modern earthly world.

Meeting Ben was like a dream, shy glances at the blue eyed co-pilot as you interview the up and coming astronaut team for the city paper and, later, soft touches across rough and uniquely organic stones that replaced his skin upon his fateful return to earth with his three crew mates.

He was a dream with a wink and a laugh to send you clamoring and flushing with the drop of a thick worn out notebook and pen even when you are almost five years deep into knowing each other.

A dream that not even a DNA altering space storm and a new rocky exterior could interfere with.

So, with a promised date and a few shared other worldly secrets to follow on the course of a rather binding relationship, you sit in the newly remodeled kitchen of the Baxter building on a counter top inspecting the stone face of one Benjamin Grimm as he scowls at you in the temporary candle light

“Benny” a pout you will deny for the rest of your days sits on your face as you hold a mirror in one hand and push your glasses up with the other “you said you’d let me help you shave when all the Galactus drama passed, Herbie even helped me practice real nice on a few boulders nearby at sunset the other day”

Ben stands with large stony hands on his hips as he sends a glare to the small robot who currently has him playing sous chef again for dinner, his innocent chirps making the hero huff as he turns back to you

“I don’t get why you want this so bad, I thought you liked the beard. Hasn’t stopped me from having you” the man runs his orange textured hands across the grown out and unruly rocks that make up his current facial landscape, shaking his head with a huff to rival your own as he eyes Herbie’s latest work on the stove top

“You don’t have anything Grimm, nothing but my love anyway.” A toothy grin races up your face, widening impossibly when he takes your bulky faux frames off the bridge of your nose when they fall yet again

A new approach crosses your mind as you straighten up, kicking your sock clad feet as you grab at his face with force a little beyond human and hold the mirror to him with soft eyes “Alright you big lug, enough of the shy routine. Let me at that face”

“Do you have ta? Even the kid said it looked good.” He seems almost reminiscent as he follows your touch with zero struggle, stone hands curdling your hips as his shoulders stretch the fabric of a well worn plum sweater gifted to him for his birthday by none other than you.

“‘sides, I thought you said it made me look distinguished” the edge of his inner city accent, garbled by stone lips, earns him a silent look as your fidgeting feet still for only a few seconds before you are shaking your own head

The mirror finds a home on the empty counter space next to you as your legs spread and you pull him to come closer, his eyes fluttering shut with a hard clink of solid stone as your hands feel at his beard and face with an appreciative hum

“For running yourself into the ground to save the world, yes, and helping my pa bail hay, maybe, but I need you looking sharp at the gala tonight” your words might as well be of a Sisyphusian agenda with the way he responds to your touch, jagged stone and pattern of his face retiring into your palm to plant textured kissed from hand to wrist to elbow

A clear smile sits on his face as you stifle several laughs and attempt to push him away with ingenious and weak pushes that do nothing to deter him while he marks and mumbles into your skin before stopping to meet your eyes temporarily

“Mmm, could just skip the fancy party angel face” the more jagged and solid base of his beard grinds against the invulnerable skin, blessed by the yellow sun and durable as usual “maybe get up to a few better things in mind, put some use in that new reinforced bed Reed had installed for us upstairs”

“Mhm, as tempting as that is, I’m supposed to snag a word from some of the investors of the foundation and I’d like to keep my day job Benny”

As if he needs to further endear himself to you, he lets his body sag across your upper body while he leans into the counter top. He stifles laughter of his own but the rumbling of his chest gives him away as you trap him with a wrap of arms and legs

“All work and no play” the man says against the chest of you, the world’s very own super woman, looking not even an ounce of the heavy hitting hero he is while your hands pet around the stony exterior of his head with a light hum

“Well I suppose, if that’s how you feel, I could always go alone. Maybe I’ll bag myself a smoother face” yet another sigh falls from your mouth as he makes the effort to stand tall and scowl yet again at you

Ben’s hands grab the mirror slow and delicate in effort not to break it as he grumbles on. “That’s not funny.”

A smirk creeps up his face as he meets your eyes, quickly becoming a prop for you to move around and adjust the mirror despite his show of previously stalling “You said you like how my face feels, something about pressure and my mouth-“

Your cheeks flush and a hand comes up to try and rub the heat from your face as you slap another one over his face so quickly he stumbles back a bit “Okay, that’s enough out of you mister. How about you let me take a real crack at this face so I can actually feel your mouth again sweetheart?”

“Alright alright, just don’t get too close to my face. The things I do for you” For a man complaining, he practically scrambles back to stand in the space between your legs.

He is back to being a movable prop as you scope out the angle of the mirror, Herbie’s chirps and the sound of a boiling sauce on the stove hold as the soundtrack until you seem to have him where you need him.

With one last happy hum and a fond hand to his jagged face, you give him a small smirk “Hush up baby, if you stay still I might let you do that one move you like. Maybe a few times if you get all spiffied up tonight. I believe you called it the avalanche”

“Whoa hey now!” The voice of none other than the youngest Storm sibling sounds off in a way that makes Ben and Herbie both startle just before you can start.

He slings his arm around Ben with a teasing rub of his stone head, following up with a quick kiss to your cheek before ducking out of Ben’s reach and off further into the kitchen “Not in a public space you two, it’s bad enough I have to survive you guys practically rocking the building. Surprised your moral compass doesn’t have you more worried about a rock slide with Benny boy here, Supes”

A huff leaves your lips, playfully exasperated as you tug Ben’s face back to look at you. For all his grandeur, the hot head sticks around to sit on the other counter top with a handful of some snack he tosses back.

“Oh Johnny, always…..something close to a pleasure for sure” the tease falls from your lips as you readjust Ben and the mirror

“Likewise Supes” The blond gives a salute as he get comfortable next to Herbie’s workspace, eyes watching with open amusement.

“Alright, are you comfy? It’s best if you don’t move while I do this honey” your voice gets softer with each word, inhaling deeply as you channel a familiar heat from behind your eyes

Ben, to his credit, settles on keeping as still as possible after huffing at your worry. He relishes in the feeling of your smaller hands over his, guiding the mirror when you change the direction of the lasers from your currently lethal pupils, and he resists a laugh at the sensation.

He takes the time to watch the concentration of your face, a small voice at the back of his mind lectures him on safety of this whole thing in a tone mixed of Reed and Sue both.

The rest of the kitchen could burn around him and he’d be stuck where he is now, watching your brows furrow and your breathing hold steady as you work on his face with enough focus that he could think he’s suddenly made of paper or cotton and not orange mineral strong enough to wreck a building foundation with minimal prep.

He’d probably lose himself in you and your care if one glance at your cooled irises and a lack of smoke didn’t have him moving to smile at you, scorching hot hand mirror quickly forgotten to the side as his warm and freshly “shaven” face crashes into yours for a rough bought of scrapping kisses all over your own face

“Benny” a squeal, that will definitely be ammunition for Johnny to tease you later, escapes you as you push at him with minimal strength and an abundance of laughter that has Herbie chirping wildly by the stove top “Stop, you haven’t even seen your face. What if I messed it up?”

The question seems to land like those new solo comedy specials you’ve been watching with him and his team on the box on the occasional night the world isn’t in danger

“Doll, that’s impossible. You’d be pouting and apologizing by now. Ain’t got a mean bone in that body of yours” he continues his loving attack on your face for a moment more before obeying your pushes and picking the mirror back up again to observe his face.

His silent examination gives just enough time for you to create a flurry of criticisms or reactions he could give. You are hovering a few inches above the counter top in just seconds.

“You look good big guy” Johnny breaks the made up tension bubble first with a smack on Ben’s clothed back as he moves to exit the kitchen “I’d say she even made you a little pleasant to look at, do you do personalities too?”

The man gives a dashing and reassuring grin to you as he ducks out of Ben’s grasp and hightails his way out of their with one last scratch to Herbie’s head

Your lover, for all his peacocking, doesn’t follow his pseudo-brother and turns to you instead. His face giving a faint clink as his eyes soften and a smile sits on his face, coming closer to your floating form

“Looks amazing Angel, you should add barber to your resume if the whole paper schtick doesn’t pan out” his hands find your thighs to push you back down to sit on the solid counter top with a quick peck to your forehead

“Mmm, you think so?” Your voice is light and airy in a way most kisses to your temple seem to leave you, tone earning a grin and another kiss

“I know so, my girl ain’t ordinary. She’s a Super Woman”

And that’s all she wrote I guess……I am lowkey obsessed with a Superwoman type reader for him lol

I kind of also want to maybe expand on this relationship because wow they are just two cuties

#x reader #ben grimm x reader #fantastic four x reader #fantastic 4 #fantastic four #ben grimm x Kryptonian!Reader

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loki-hargreeves · 4 months ago

Text

Real Lovin'

Pairing: Jonathan Levy x fem!Reader Warnings/Tags: Vague mentions of poor sexual encounters, SMUT [18+], inexperienced reader (not a virgin), alcohol consumption, oral (f!receiving), fingering, handjobs, praise kink, overstimulation, squirting, teasing, protected PIV, soft dom!Jonathan, aftercare, Jonathan is a sweet, hot gentleman Word Count: 8.9k (Only proofread it once) Summary: Jonathan finds out that your sex life has been less than satisfactory and he takes the matter into his own hands to show you that it can be nice and loving. The boundaries of your friendship go flying out the window. A/N: I had to write this to mend something in my soul. Hope you enjoy it <3

"Oh my god, she was totally into you!" You laugh with your friend Jonathan. It's late and you're at his house, enjoying some wine and each other's company. The sun has already set, so Jonathan goes to close the blinds for the day, giving you two some privacy.

"She was just being nice," Jonathan chuckles as he turns on some table lamps and adjusts the light curtains. The living room is filled with a warm, almost magical atmosphere which is cosy. As he stands there, you can't help but check him out. He's wearing that brown sweater that looks amazing on him, almost as amazing as the curve of his magnificent rear in black trousers.

"I still think she was into you. Didn't you see the way she ogled you all day?" You insist playfully. The barista at the cafe you went to had been all over Jonathan - understandably so. He is simply too humble to entertain the idea that someone was checking him out. It's kind of endearing actually, how he can't see that.

"Really? Jonathan raises an eyebrow and joins you on the couch. It's comfortable, even when your knees touch. Despite only being friends, there's undeniable chemistry between the two of you that neither of you talk about. However, actions speak louder than words. You won't push Jonathan into anything as it hasn't been too long since he finalized the divorce from Mira.

"Can't blame her," You shrug and take a sip of wine. The wine has certainly softened you around the edges, making you a bit more blunt and bold than usual.

Jonathan keeps looking at you, curiosity and something more intimate swirling in those deep mahogany eyes. He rubs his salt-and-pepper beard as he processes your words, an obvious flirtatious move. He's not stupid. It's only a matter of time before you have to face the chemistry between you that's been kept unspoken for several months now.

You smile, feeling comfortable even though the tension in the room is rising. Not in a bad way. Your heart races a little as you enjoy the way Jonathan looks at you, instead of pushing you away or totally ignoring what you just said.

Damn you, Jonathan thinks and scratches his chin again before covering his mouth with his hand momentarily. It's been months since he divorced Mira and he hasn't had anything serious since. Some girlfriends here and there during the separation. Nothing that felt real, nothing exciting. Then he met you. Jonathan really likes you and he's so scared of fucking things up.

Jonathan clears his throat and asks you something that's been on his mind, "How come you're still single?"

You twirl the wine in the glass and think about your answer. Interestingly, it seems as if Jonathan is fishing for knowledge about your dating life, trying to figure out if you're genuinely available or if something is going on that he's unaware of.

"Have you seen how men treat women nowadays? I don't have time for Tinder dudes or guys who think they can get in my pants after buying me a shitty cocktail," You vent a little. Jonathan is the type of guy you can have deep and honest conversations with. It feels like a safe place to vent about how much dating sucks, at least in your experience.

"Yeah, that's...not good," Jonathan agrees and for a moment he even seems concerned. "Are all of them that bad?"

You scoff and tilt your head, looking at Jonathan with a funny feeling in your chest. "The last guy I dated thought my clit was in my groin."

"What? You've gotta be kidding me." Jonathan's eyes widen in surprise as he hears that.

"I wish," You sigh and giggle, trying not to bring down the mood. It's just frustrating to have so many poor experiences. You want a man to take you and make you feel good for real, to see that it's not just a myth that sex can be mind-blowing.

"Wow," Jonathan says and adjusts his glasses, "I can see how that can make dating seem unappealing. But I assure you, not all of us are that inexperienced or unskilled," Jonathan tries to reassure you. He's confident after ten years of marriage that he can make a woman feel good. It's not that hard.

As you sit there, knees touching, he finds himself thinking about if he could make you feel good. He swallows thickly and tries to push those thoughts away yet the damage is already done. His pants feel a little bit tighter than before which he tries hard to ignore.

"Sometimes I wonder if there's something wrong with me," You confess, taking a moment to be vulnerable with Jonathan.

"What? No," Jonathan says immediately, "I'm sure there's nothing wrong with you. Some guys are just selfish and they don't care about the pleasure of their partners. That doesn't say anything about you," He comforts you and caresses your knee.

Your eyes land on his hand on your knee. It's the smallest touch yet it ignites something within you. It feels nice.

"I'm sorry for venting," You apologize and put the wine glass down on the oak coffee table. Jonathan mirrors your movement, abandoning his glass as well.

"It´s okay. We're friends, you can talk to me about anything," Jonathan smiles softly. Acting as if calling you just a friend doesn't kill him a little bit on the inside.

"I just... I wanna know what it's like to have good sex at least once in my life, you know? Is that really too much to ask for?" You sigh and lean against the sofa, allowing Jonathan's fingers to trace patterns on your thigh. His hand is very slowly hiking up your leg. You're wearing a dress today, which means that there's only a very thin layer of stockings between Jonathan's fingers and your skin.

Jonathan can't believe the words he's hearing. Sure, you guys have talked about relationships and sex before but tonight it feels different. It almost feels like the more you keep talking, the more you're encouraging Jonathan to make a move - and he's more than eager to give you what you need.

"Not at all, sex should be enjoyable," Jonathan murmurs and feels himself getting turned on. It's crazy, this power that you have over him. Jonathan wants to taste you, to touch you, to make you fall apart underneath him and beg him to stop because he's made you come so many times. He wants to be good for you.

"Maybe I just haven't experienced it with the right person yet," You smile softly and somehow find the courage to say it while looking Jonathan in the eye.

Jonathan looks right back at you. He wants to be that person for you but... you're friends. He takes a deep, shaky breath and rests his head against his palm, his other hand still caressing your leg. It's getting harder and harder to deny his feelings and the ever-growing desire for you.

"Maybe not," Jonathan shrugs and glances at your lips. They look so alluring, especially when you smile like that.

You see what he's looking at. Then the room feels a little bit smaller all of a sudden. Everything seems to fade away except for Jonathan. Something invisible seems to be pulling you closer to him, which you only realize once his face is right in front of yours.

"Can I kiss you?" Jonathan asks and cups your cheek, his thumb caressing you gently. He's a little nervous since it's been so long since he last felt like this but it's overshadowed by his excitement and genuine care for you. The last thing he wants is to overstep any boundaries.

You can't believe he asked. That this is happening. After waiting for so long and tiptoeing around each other when it comes to touching and flirting. After so many countless nights of touching yourself to the thought of him, his touch, his scent, the idea of tasting his lips and having his cock spreading you wide open...

"Please," You nod, pleading with him to not waste another second. You've waited too long for this.

That's all he needed to hear. As soon as Jonathan has your consent, he pulls your face even closer to his. Then he presses his lips on yours, softly at first. He closes his eyes and you feel his long lashes tickling your cheeks.

"Mmm," You moan into the kiss and cup his head, pulling him even closer. Jonathan responds by deepening the kiss, touching the back of your head to lock you in, taking your breath away. His other hand squeezes your leg as if he has to hold onto you or else he might be scared you'll drift away. Touching you is a way to ground himself now that he feels like he's floating from pure bliss.

As you pull apart for air, Jonathan rests his forehead against yours. His thumb is still caressing your cheek tenderly, earning another smile from you.

"Hey," You whisper and laugh quietly, feeling overjoyed. You caress his face as well, feeling just how soft his beard feels underneath your fingers.

"Hey," Jonathan responds just as quietly. This moment is tender. You've never been this close and it feels like you can see each other through new lenses, knowing that these feelings are reciprocated. A whole new world has just opened. It's big, it's exciting, it's everything you've waited for.

Jonathan pecks at your lips again, kissing you like he needs it to breathe. You kiss him back, taking it easy at first. Little pecks, tasting his lips and carefully treading your fingers through his dark curls. Jonathan doesn't want to push you too fast. He knows that you're not as experienced as him, which he doesn't mind, but he also doesn't want to spook you by being too sudden.

"Mm-" You moan into the kiss once again, feeling shivers running down your spine. You want him so bad. Jonathan tastes good, like cherry wine and peppermint gum. It feels so natural when you move onto his lap and straddle his thighs. When you do, you feel his bulge through his trousers. As soon as it presses against your skirt, it makes your stomach twist with need and desire.

"Y/N-" Jonathan whispers your name, his hands running down your sides and eventually resting on your hips. It feels so good to have you sitting on his lap, putting pressure against his bulge. It's hard to think straight. Jonathan can't believe he has you sitting on him and kissing him like this.

You smile a little and tease him by moving your hips, wanting to see him squirm beneath you. Seeing him gasp and twitch is like a drug, making you want more.

"Yeah?"

"We don't have to do anything if you don't want to," Jonathan lets you know and he holds your hand in his.

"I want to," You insist and squeeze his hand, "if you want it."

"If I want-... I want you more than you can imagine," Jonathan tells you seriously. He lets go of your hand to hold your chin gently, making you face him, "I want you. Not as a one-night thing, I really care about you."

The way Jonathan says it while looking you right in the eye, while holding you so tenderly, it feels sincere. Your heart beats a little faster. Is this what it's like to get the butterflies everyone always talks about?

"I care about you too," You let him know and lean against his touch, "I've been thinking about what it would be like to be more than friends, to be yours... it makes me so happy, so wet."

Jonathan closes his eyes, resisting a moan as you talk dirty to him. He's getting so hard that it almost hurts. His fingers dig into your hips now.

"Do you really wanna do this?" Jonathan asks again, giving you every opportunity to back out. He doesn't wanna force you into anything.

You nod, feeling a little flustered. It's really happening. There's no way you'd say no now after dreaming of this moment for so long.

"Okay," Jonathan smiles and kisses your lips, unable to get enough of you. "Let's go upstairs. I wanna make you feel good properly, in my bed, not on this couch."

Once you make it upstairs, Jonathan leads you to his bed. His bedroom is neat, smelling of clean linen and a vanilla candle he keeps on the nightstand. It's such a turn-on that he knows how to take care of his home, instead of going home to a guy who barely maintains a tiny apartment.

Jonathan helps you out of your dress, throwing it onto the armchair in the corner. Once you're in bed, he climbs on top of you.

"Mmm...Jonathan," You moan and look at him with lust-darkened eyes. He's kissing your neck, searching for that spot that makes you squirm. Once he finds it, and you squeal as the skin feels so sensitive against his lips, he smirks. Jonathan pins your wrists down and begins to kiss that spot harder, licking and nibbling the skin. His thick beard adds to the sensitivity, brushing against your skin constantly.

"Ohh!" You gasp in shock over just how sensitive it can feel. With every touch, you feel your panties getting wetter and wetter, to the point you're certain that he can smell it. Your thighs begin to tremble from anticipation, your body being awakened nerve by nerve, limb by limb.

"You're so beautiful," Jonathan tells you, allowing his hands to explore your body. His palm cups your breast, feeling you through the bra. His leg separates your legs, trousers pressed against your soft thigh and stockings. Jonathan looks down at your body, taking in the sight he's dreamt of. Everything is so much better in reality compared to his fantasies.

His praise feels sincere. His touch is so intentional and the way he looks at you like you're a priceless painting to be admired, it all leaves you feeling flustered. No one has ever looked at you like this, spent so much time actually admiring you, kissing you, wanting to make you feel good. It's overwhelming in the very best way.

"No need to be shy," Jonathan smiles, "you're gorgeous. I'm so lucky to get a chance to be with you like this," He keeps going, showering you in praise while his hand brushes over the skin of your stomach. He's barely touching you, the tiniest touch giving you goosebumps and making you squirm.

"I need you so bad, Jonathan," You mutter and pout, feeling impatient. He just smiles and dives back down to kiss your neck, peppering kisses all over you until he finds your collarbone. He nibbles your skin carefully and his own hips grind against you ever so slightly.

"You'll have me," Jonathan promises and then traces your slit through your panties, "just let me make you feel good first... there's no rush, honey."

Honey. That term of affection just melts your heart. It's more than thrilling to be close to Jonathan, to feel his fingers teasing your most sensitive area, to have him call you something more than just a friend. You gasp as he feels the wet spot on your panties, feeling a little flustered. What if he thinks you're too wet? Or if he finds you gross?

All those insecurities are washed away when Jonathan looks down between your legs and pulls your panties down. His lips part in surprise and he looks like a man who is staring down at his favourite dessert. He uses two fingers to spread your folds apart and smear your wetness around.

"Oh baby, you're so wet," Jonathan smiles happily and moves further down, eventually nestling between your thighs. He removes his glasses, placing them on the nightstand before getting comfortable.

"I can't wait to taste you," Jonathan groans, holding himself back for just a little bit longer. He doesn't just want you to be wet and ready for him. Jonathan wants you to be so aroused that you're shaking, begging for him, more than ready. He doesn't want to rush anything, to be impatient and end up hurting you. He could never hurt you.

"Please," You plead, not even sure what you're asking for. More of him, his attention, his touch. You bite your lips and look at him, taking in the sight of Jonathan between your legs, transfixed on your wet pussy and teasing those folds with his long fingers.

"So pretty," Jonathan whispers and kisses your inner thigh. His fingers don't push in yet, no. They slide up and down your slit, over your clit and all the way down to your entrance. He circles the entrance, teasing you, but not pushing in. As his fingers slide up, he adds a little pressure on the clit, but never just enough.

"Ohh," A whine escapes your lips, hips jerking up while trying to get more of him.

"Shh, good girl," Jonathan pushes you down by your hips with his free hand, keeping you from squirming too much.

"Please Jonathan," You mewls, needing him more than you thought possible.

"Please what?" Jonathan cocks his head up, his fingers still running up and down your slit, smearing your slickness around your clit. His touch makes your hips jerk from just how sensitive you're getting.

"I need you," You tell him quietly.

"How do you need me? Use your words," Jonathan encourages you. He hasn't touched you before, he needs to know what you like. He wants to know what you like so that he can please you in the best way he can. Besides, he enjoys bringing you out of your shell, getting to know you and teasing you even more.

You feel flustered, even though it's Jonathan and you trust him. Perhaps it's just because no one in the past has ever cared enough to know how you wish to be pleasured. This is new and so, so freeing.

"I... I need your mouth on me," You find the courage to admit, heart racing as you finish that sentence.

"Good," Jonathan praises you for telling him that, wanting you to feel comfortable enough to tell him what's on your mind, what turns you on and makes you feel good. "You're so good for me, you'll get what you want, baby."

Jonathan grabs your thighs, spreading your legs even more than they already are. Then he licks a stripe up your slit, getting a first taste of your sweet elixir.

"Ahh..." Your head falls back on the pillows, as his tongue feels like relief on your needy cunt. By now, your entire body is trembling from need.

"You taste so good," Jonathan grunts and closes his lips around your clit. With a tight grip around your thighs, Jonathan gets comfortable and buries his face into you. The bridge of his nose presses against you deliciously as he laps up your juices, tasting you and getting hooked on you just from the first drops. It's a taste he wants more and more of.

You gasp as he eats you out, not afraid to get his face and beard messy. Jonathan looks at you through his thick lashes, driven wild by the sight of you moaning and leaning against his pillows. Looking so damn gorgeous. Only in a bra and thigh-high stockings. It's a sight he'll never forget.

"mmm yes, feels so good," You moan and grab his curls for support. You tug at him softly, wanting him even closer. Jonathan understands the cue and he begins to lap at your sensitive clit a little harder, eliciting even sweeter moans from you.

Jonathan's hands snake up your torso, coming up to cup your chest. You arch your back, helping him to unhook your bra. Once it comes off, he wastes no time to pay attention to your tits. Jonathan moans with your clit in his mouth, so happy to grope your chest that he's been stealing glances at whenever you'd wear revealing blouses and dresses around him. He almost felt ashamed for how he had been looking at you like that but deep down he always had a feeling that you wore those tops around him on purpose. One time he noticed body glitter on your chest and it couldn't have gotten more obvious than that.

"Fuck" You moan and buck your hips up, grinding against his mouth. Jonathan squeezes your nipples and keeps licking your pussy, now pushing his tongue against your entrance. His beard is getting covered in your juices but he doesn't care right now, he's hooked on the taste of you and he wants to see you fall apart.

Jonathan is taking his sweet time just tasting you, licking your clit and sucking it while playing with your tits lazily. He wants to make sure you're soaking wet before he goes further. He circles his tongue on your clit and brings one hand down, pulling the hood of your clit up to reveal more of the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Oh, Jonathan!" You moan, feeling a warm, electric feeling radiating from your exposed clit.

"You like that?" Jonathan asks, his voice now deepened by lust. As he pulls his face back slightly, you can see your own juices glistening on his beard and lips. It's such an erotic sight. He has never looked hotter.

"Yes baby, feels so good...please..." You whine again, wanting his warm mouth back on your needy pussy. It's hard to think or to form proper sentences when the man of your dreams is between your thighs. Jonathan is happy to oblige, closing his mouth on your clit again and shaking his head, burying it deep against your folds. Wetness is dripping out of you, running down your slit and soaking the bedspread.

Once Jonathan is certain that you're wet enough, he brings his finger to your entrance. He circles it at first, collecting your wetness on his digit. Then carefully, he presses one finger inside, not wanting to hurt you. It slides in easily with how turned on you are.

"Yes! Mmm... just like that," You smile, grinding against his finger. It's only halfway in, testing the waters. He begins to curl his finger inside you while licking and nibbling your now throbbing clit. Jonathan doesn't finger you roughly, nor does he try to push the finger deeper. He focuses on the curling motion, wanting to rub your g-spot.

You can feel how your clit and walls begin to throb, the warm feeling in the pit of your stomach growing stronger. There's this pressure building within you and every little touch brings you closer to a breaking point.

"Jonathan-" You try to warn him but the words don't come out. Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you can only focus on the pleasure he's bringing you. It's perfect. He doesn't need to change the pace, doesn't need to add fingers. If he keeps going just like that, you'll be satisfied.

Jonathan recognizes the telltale signs of a woman being close to a climax. He can tell you're close when you hold your breath and your lower body tenses up. He feels pride in knowing that in minutes he's been able to bring you to this point, to make you soaking wet, when earlier you complained about not having experienced true pleasure with previous partners.

"Ohhh fuck! I'm..I'm-" The words get stuck in your throat as the orgasm overpowers you. It's like a warm blanket that falls over your body. Your pussy clenches around Jonathan's finger and thighs squeeze around his head, locking him in place which Jonathan is more than delighted by. The sight of you coming is so hot to Jonathan. His hands are trembling from being turned on, as he keeps fingering you even though you're coming and becoming extremely sensitive. He doesn't wanna stop until you push him away.

"Jonathan oh my god!" You cry out in shock, body feeling warm and tingly as pleasure fills each and every one of your cells. He keeps sucking your sensitive clit, moaning because he enjoys this so much. Jonathan pulls out his fingers and pushes his tongue into you, collecting your arousal, every last drop of it so that nothing goes to waste.

"Jonathan... ohh!" You wince, growing so sensitive that your body twitches involuntarily. Once you finally squirm too much and push his head away, Jonathan backs away with a proud grin on his face. He admires the sight of you trembling on his bed, panting and whimpering as your sweet pussy is throbbing from pure pleasure.

"Good girl," He tells you and taps your clit in a teasing manner, making you squeeze your thighs together and whine as you recover.

Jonathan sits up straight and begins to unbutton his shirt. He laughs dryly as he realizes your wetness has dribbled down his beard and neck all the way to his collar. Once his shirt comes off, he begins to unbuckle his belt.

You're still catching your breath, watching as he undresses. The sight of his undressing almost makes you come again. You see his bronze skin, all the freckles on his body that you've never seen before, and the trail of dark hair that goes from his belly button to his crotch.

"Mmm you look so hot," You purr, wanting to reach out to touch him but you're still recovering from that orgasm that left your mind feeling blank.

"You're doing so good," Jonathan tells you and pushes his pants down. Now left in only his boxers, you can see his bulge more clearly. You bite your kiss-swollen lips as you stare at it, feeling such a deep desire to pull his boxers down and suck his cock already.

Jonathan is so hard, he wants to fuck you but he also wants to take his time. He wants to make you feel amazing and then some more. To alleviate the aching boner he has, he rubs himself through his boxers a few times, moaning softly. He keeps touching himself as he looks at you sprawled over his bed like that. His lips still taste like your pussy.

Once you begin to recover from your orgasm, you feel the desire to make Jonathan feel as good as he made you feel. You try to get up on your knees, but Jonathan grabs your shoulder and keeps you down.

"Don't worry about me yet, I'm not done with you," Jonathan tells you with a smile. It's amazing how loving and kind he is while also being dominating, in a caring way. He's not at all rough or degrading, but he clearly has control in that moment. And you like it. Makes your pussy wet with desire all over again. Jonathan genuinely wants to touch you and make you feel good.

Jonathan pushes his boxers down and grabs his cock. You nearly gasp at the sight, the hunger from him ten-folding as you see pre-cum leaking from his darkened tip. He groans and jerks his cock a few times, letting it harden to a point where it's almost impossible to ignore - yet he does. It's almost like he enjoys the waiting, denying himself pleasure until he's rock hard.

Jonathan positions himself on top of you, spreading your legs with his thighs and letting his cock rest on your thigh. He bucks his hips a couple times, smearing pre-cum on your soft skin. He knows he'll have to put a condom on soon, but at least there's nothing to worry about when his dick only touches your leg.

"Oh baby, you have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," Jonathan tells you sensually while caressing your arm and shoulder. He kisses your neck gently, soothing you, helping you recover from your first orgasm. In return, you caress his back lovingly and melt in his embrace. Feeling his cock twitching against your thigh ignites yet another spark within you that you can't ignore. You wanna touch him so bad. Even though Jonathan just ate you out, you feel hesitant and even shy, unsure if you can touch him or not.

"I've wanted you for so long," The confession slips out of your mouth with ease. "Wanted to feel you inside me... to feel your lips on mine."

"Yeah?" He smiles lazily and kisses your breast, eventually biting your hardened nipple lightly, making you squirm.

"Yesss... I've been touching myself and thinking about you... just the thought of you has made me come harder than ever before," You keep confessing your dirty secrets to him.

"That's my girl," Jonathan is ecstatic to hear that. You're boosting his ego, which maybe is exactly what he needs after his previous lovers.

You moan and close your eyes, feeling pleasure from his words. Jonathan is such a good man, such a damn good man and you think he deserves the world. You want to give him the world if it means you'll get to be like this for the rest of your days. If it means he'll keep calling you his girl. What else could you want?

"Can I touch you? Please..." You ask shyly and look him in the eye.

Jonathan nearly groans at your bashful question. He likes that you're so easily flustered and so so sweet. It feels almost loving, despite it being both of your first time together and both of you feeling insanely aroused.

"Yeah, baby," Jonathan can't deny you when you look at him so sweetly. He looks down at his cock and grabs your wrist, pulling it toward him and encouraging you to touch.

You smile and bite your lip, feeling excited to touch him, at long last. Your wrap your fingers around his thick shaft and gasp softly, finally feeling how hard he is. You can't believe this is happening.

Jonathan clenches his jaw and takes a deep, shaky breath as you touch his dick. He's so sensitive because of how turned on he is right now. "Yeah, just like that..." He murmurs and caresses your hair.

His cock twitches against your palm and you hold it a little tighter. A grin spreads on your face as you collect his pre-cum against your palm and then begin to jerk him off. Slowly at first, afraid you'll hurt him.

Jonathan moans and looks down, wanting to watch your hand working on him. Then he bucks his hips against your palm, slowly but surely succumbing to his needs.

Suddenly, he licks his own fingers, getting them wet. Jonathan reaches down to your sensitive pussy and begins to rub your clit. He matches the pace you use to jerk him off, wanting you to feel good as well.

"Oh mmm..." You moan and spread your legs a little, giving him better access. Jonathan's other hand grabs your hair and he leans in to kiss you sloppily. His breathing is heavy now, panting against your lips as you touch each other, learning what you both enjoy, what makes you squirm and moan.

After teasing your clit long enough to get you ready again, Jonathan pushes his digit back into your wanton hole. This time he pushes it a little deeper, as he can feel that you're wet enough for that.

"Ohh fuck!" The moans keep pouring out as you let him touch you. When Jonathan makes you feel good, it makes you move your hand on him a little faster, squeezing slightly around his sensitive tip and around the base, feeling how his cock twitches and throbs under your touch.

"Oh baby, yeah," Jonathan moans and then pushes another finger inside you. He looks at your face when he does that, needing to see your expression, to know that you're feeling pleasure instead of pain. He caresses your face tenderly as he fingers you deep, making sure you'll be warmed up enough for his cock later.

By now, you're seeing stars. His fingers are deep in your cunt and with every move he makes, you can hear how wet you are. If you weren't so turned on, you might've been ashamed of those noises. Not now. You can only focus on your pleasure and the feeling of his fat cock in your hand. You keep bucking your hips and squeezing his erection for his cum.

Jonathan groans and seems to reach a whole new level of arousal. His eyes darken and he bites your shoulder, fucking into your caring hand desperately. More of his pre-cum oozes out, getting your hand dirty but neither of you care. He feels good and he's not hiding the fact.

Meanwhile, his thumb finds your clit and he rubs it while his index and middle finger curl against your spongy g-spot. It's almost overwhelming, how good he's making you feel. So good that when your hips squirm involuntarily, Jonathan uses his leg to pin your leg down and keep you in place.

"Oh fuck Jonathan! I..I think I'll..I'm coming again..." You cry out and bite your lip. This time the pressure in your stomach feels different, like you might squirt. You feel alarmed at the realization and try to sit up to stop him, but Jonathan keeps going.

Almost like he could read your mind, he looks you in the eye and tells you, "don't worry sweetheart. Let me make you feel good, yeah? Come for me, honey... there's nothing to be ashamed of."

That's it.

His words of encouragement is all it takes for your second orgasm to hit you like a tidal wave. Your body clenches up and for a moment, all you can see is white.

Jonathan keeps rubbing your clit hard as you come, your arousal splashing out of you as he fingers your wet hole.

"Yeah," He smiles, feeling a bit cocky as you squirt all over his fingers and bed. He doesn't care, as he can always change the sheets later. Jonathan fingers you gently and watches your pretty face as you come and twitch from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

You're so distracted by pleasure that your hand moves sloppily on his dick for a moment. Jonathan doesn't mind, as he's more than satisfied by watching you in the post-orgasmic haze. He could get used to the sight of you like this, to the sweet whining when he touches your clit even though he knows you're overstimulated and sensitive.

"How are you feeling, pretty girl?" Jonathan asks you and brushes your face, wanting you to open your eyes and look at him.

As you do, you immediately smile. The sight of Jonathan looking at you with so much care melts your heart.

"So good..." You purr and regain your composure, being able to focus on touching him again. By now, you trace the thick veins on his cock, enjoying how even a gentle touch can make him squirm.

"Yeah? You came so well, looking so gorgeous," Jonathan praises you again, which he seems to enjoy doing. He loves it when he can make you squirm with his words alone.

"It felt amazing," You whisper, still finding it hard to believe what happened but the proof is in the way you're pussy is throbbing and recovering from your second orgasm of the night.

"See? There's absolutely nothing wrong with you," Jonathan tells you more seriously, remembering your words from earlier. "You're perfect the way you are and you deserve to be satisfied properly," Jonathan continues and kisses you. His lips taste like your pussy and the realization leaves you breathless. It's dirty but somehow it turns you on even more.

"Jonathan-"

"Mmhmm?" He looks up at you and tries so hard not to lose control as you caress his dick like that. His hips buck up lazily to meet your hand.

"You're too good for me..."

"No," Jonathan shakes his head and brushes his fingers over your clit lazily, just to make you squirm. "You deserve pleasure, baby. It's the bare minimum a guy could give you."

"Mmm.." You look away, feeling a little bit shy as he keeps on sweet talking.

"Sweetheart," Jonathan continues and feels like he can't hold back for much longer, not when you're touching him like that.

"Yeah?"

"You think you're ready for me?" Jonathan asks gently, patiently. As patiently as a man can when the woman of his dreams is naked in front of him and touching his stone hard dick.

The question causes you to grin with excitement and you nod, "Yeah...I want you in me so bad."

Now it's Jonathan's turn to groan as your words bring out a much more feral side of him, something he's kept hidden for so long.

"Okay," He whispers and kisses you one more time, "let me get a condom."

It's physically difficult to pull himself away from you as he reaches for the nightstand drawer, where he keeps condoms, just in case. Even though it's been a while since he's had company, he's prepared. Jonathan grabs a condom and tears the packaging apart, his hands trembling because he's just that aroused. Then he rolls it onto his dick and gives himself a few strokes.

You can't help but admire the view, watching as he touches himself. Never before has a dick looked better to you. All you can think about now is having him buried deep inside you.

"Come here," You smile and gesture at him to come and get you.

Jonathan doesn't have to be told twice. He climbs on top of you and grabs your thighs, pushing them up slightly. Then he rubs his cock against your wet folds, teasing you a little.

"You ready for me?" He asks softly while rubbing the tip against your swollen clit.

"Please Jonathan" You pout, so needy that it almost drives you crazy. You need his dick inside you almost more than you need air at this point.

"Okay, you've got me," He coos and pushes your legs even further apart. He guides his cock to your entrance and then looks you in the eye as he pushes it in. You're so damn wet that it slides in with ease. Jonathan didn't realize he was holding his breath until he sinks into your warm, wet cunt and he gasps in pure pleasure.

"Fuck, you're so fucking wet," Jonathan grunts and slowly slides in and out of you. His strong thighs tremble with need as he holds himself back, not wanting to pound you just yet. He wants to savour the moment, the feeling of entering you for the first time, the look on your face as you finally have his dick in your sweet pussy.

His thick cock stretches you open so damn nicely, making your walls throb as he forces them further apart. It doesn't hurt, in fact you need even more of him. It's so different from your past experiences. With Jonathan, you're so wet that his thick cock just feels amazing deep inside you and you want more. Wanna feel him against your cervix.

It's hard to hold back. You wrap your legs around his body and begin to buck your hips, fucking yourself on his cock. That's all it takes for Jonathan's restraint to slip. He's not afraid of hurting you when you're fucking yourself onto his cock deeper and harder, so desperate for him. He knows that he can be a bit rougher without hurting you. The sight of you so eager for his cock is one to behold.

"Give it to me! Give your cock to me!" You cry out loudly, lost in pleasure and desire.

Jonathan can't believe his ears. He looks at you in awe as he gives into your demand. With a tight grip on your thighs, he quickens his pace. Jonathan grunts as he feels himself sinking even deeper inside you. He gets a little rough, digging his fingers into your flesh as he thrusts his length inside.

"You like that? Hm? You like having my dick in your sweet cunt huh?" Jonathan asks with a raspy voice, his curls getting messy as he thrusts into you. His tan skin is glistening with a thin layer of sweat, his lips apart as he watches his dick disappear inside you with each thrust. It's better than the damn porn films he's found himself watching lately, which he wasn't proud of.

"Yes! Yes... Yes... I need it, Jonathan!" You mewl pathetically underneath him. He's making you feel so good that you feel angry that you've missed out on this for so long. Now that you know what it feels like to be fucked good, you don't think you can ever get enough of it.

"Oh!" You yelp out as he slips out of your cunt. Jonathan smiles and smacks his cock against your clit, wanting to make you squirm and squeal. He runs it up and down your swollen folds a few times.

"You've been thinking of this haven't you?" He growls and pushes his dick back in hard, only to pull it out again, leaving you empty and throbbing around nothing.

"Mmm yes..." You nod, just wanting him back inside.

Jonathan repeats the action, sinking deep inside and pulling out, making your cunt ache as it has nothing to throb against. When he's fucking you and you're in this aroused state, his action makes your cunt stay open and he repeats it so that your hole doesn't have enough time to relax. It's torturous, but so so good.

After repeating it a few more times, you're squirming and fluttering from being so needy for him to fuck you. Jonathan slaps your clit gently, watching your reaction and then doing it again as he sees a smile on your face.

"Come on, show me how bad you've wanted this," Jonathan tells you. Now that you're this turned on and no longer as shy as earlier, he just wants to encourage you to take pleasure from him.

His words light something inside of you that you didn't know existed. With pleasure, you get up and make Jonathan lie down instead. Once he's comfortable, you climb over him and grab his cock, guiding it to your wet hole. Without hesitation, you sit down on it, letting him spear you open.

"Fuuuck!" You moan deeply and sink down on it as low as you can.

"Oh sweet-" Jonathan gasps and his deep brown eyes roll to the back of his head. He has to take a few breaths to collect himself as you begin to ride him. As your thighs straddle him and you bounce on his thick cock, you can see his abs tensing up. A smile spreads on your face as you keep going, enjoying that you're able to make Jonathan squirm like that.

Jonathan grabs your hips, guiding your movements. His head is spinning from the pleasure he feels, knowing that this is finally happening. He looks down, admiring how your pussy swallows him up so well. It's truly the sweetest sight.

As your thighs begin to burn from bounding up and down on his length, you have to collect yourself. You sit on his dick fully and grind on it, back and forth. Your clit rubs against his body as you do this, causing you moan uncontrollably. It's so damn sensitive that even the lightest touch makes you twitch and squirm.

"Good girl," Jonathan purrs and watches you, "good. Show me how much you like having me inside your pretty little pussy."

"Mmm you're so big, I can feel you so deep inside me," You moan and reach down to touch your clit. As your legs recover, you begin to ride him harder again while touching yourself. It feels so good that you don't care about the ache in your thighs, you just keep going.

Jonathan can't hold back anymore. It feels too good but the desire to dominate you is too strong. He grabs you tightly and turns you over while still inside of you.

"Oh!" You gasp and hold onto him for support. Jonathan makes sure you're in a good position, on your back, as he starts to fuck into you hard. His face is buried in the crook of your neck as he thrusts into you with desperation.

"You're so beautiful..." Jonathan grunts out sweetly while his cock is pounding into your hole, stretching you wide open.

"Ohh..." You cry out, overwhelmed by pleasure, by finally being fucked the way you've dreamt of for so long, while simultaneously being showered with compliments and praise by the sweetest man ever. Your nails dig into Jonathan's back as you hold onto him for support as he rocks your world.

Jonathan groans as his orgasm creeps closer and closer, causing his thrusts to get sloppier. He grabs your tit and starts kneading it, grunting as he feels your soft body responding so well to his touch.

"Oh Jonathan!" You moan, your senses overwhelmed as he toys with your tits roughly yet carefully. He smiles as your nipples harden under his hard touch, admiring how pretty it looks, how the added stimulation makes you moan even louder.

Jonathan then reaches down to your poor clit that has been through so much already. He laughs as you immediately squirm once his fingers make contact with the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Good girl, wanna make you feel good..." Jonathan murmurs in your eat and begins to circle his fingers over your clit sloppily. It's so sensitive and his touch, combined with his cock stretching your walls, is almost too much.

"Don't stop!" You whine and begin to tense up, knowing you'll come again if he keeps going.

And he does.

Jonathan's gaze darkens as he watches you, his goal being to make you fall apart on his cock. His thrusts become a little harder but he keeps the same pace, keeps rubbing your clit in the same direction and with the same intensity without tiring.

"Come for me, honey...I wanna see you come for me when I'm inside you," Jonathan confesses his desires and he kisses the side of your face, not caring about the fact that you're both sweaty at this point. He just wants you. Only you. Jonathan barely even notices it as a stack of books from his nightstand fall over onto the floor because the bed is shaking so much.

Your body feels all coiled up and ready to spring open. You hold your breath again, toes curling as you taste the orgasm that's just out of reach.

"Yeah, baby... come for me," Jonathan whispers in your ear.

"Oh fuck!" You cry out in response. The coil snaps. A million feelings explode inside of you, nearly knocking you out. Each and every muscle tenses up as the strongest orgasm so far ripples out of you. Jonathan smiles and keeps bucking his hips into yours, fucking you through your orgasm.

"Jonathan!" His name echoes through the bedroom as he keeps going. Your body relaxes but it's left so sensitive that now as Jonathan chases his own orgasm, he has to hug you tightly so that you won't squirm away from him. It feels dangerously good, addictive.

Jonathan grunts as his own orgasm comes closer and closer. His strong arms wrap around you, not caring about how hot it is inside or how sweaty you are. Jonathan just wants to be physically as close as possible to you as he comes.

"Oh honey..." Jonathan gasps as his eyes roll to the back of his head. He slams his hips into yours a few more times before burying himself deep inside. His body topples over yours like a weighted blanket as he comes, his cock twitching deep inside you. The condom being the only barrier keeping his load away from you.

Knowing that he has come too makes you happy. You smile tiredly and trace your fingers on his toned back, drawing patterns.

Jonathan is catching his breath, allowing himself to soften inside you for a moment. He's spent, but he couldn't be happier.

As you cuddle and silence falls over the house, everything feels perfect. Like this is how things are meant to be. Jonathan inside of you, listening to your heartbeat as both of you recover from mind-blowing orgasms.

Jonathan opens his eyes so that he can admire how pretty you look right now, fucked properly and satisfied. He caresses your chest and neck lovingly, unable to keep his hands to himself.

"How are you feeling?" He whispers, even when there's no reason to whisper. It just feels right.

You open your tired eyes and face him. A surge of affection for him fills your heart, making you feel floaty and happy.

"I feel wonderful," You reply just as softly, "what about you?"

Jonathan looks so happy and endearing. It's almost hard to believe that moments ago he fucked you into another dimension.

"I... I'm great," Jonathan confesses and runs his thumb across your lips. "I hope that was good for you."

"Good?" You almost gasp, "Jonathan, that was...that was incredible. I've genuinely never felt better."

"Good," Jonathan feels full of pride. He gives you one more kiss before pulling out, causing you to moan. He sees just how swollen and wet your pussy is, since he fucked you thoroughly. It's a hot sight, knowing that he did that.

"Come on, I'll draw us a bath," Jonathan grabs your hand gently, wanting to take care of you. The last thing he wants is for you to get sore. He bends down to kiss your knuckles. "We can cuddle as much as you want after, okay?"

"Sounds perfect."

The bathroom smells of floral bath oils and Jonathan's signature cologne. A couple candles have been lit on the counter. The water is warm as the tub fits two people, you resting on Jonathan's side, your legs entangled comfortably. Jonathan joined you in the bath after changing the sheets and opening a window, letting in fresh air, so the sounds of the washing machine going in the laundry room adds a calming background noise. It's serene.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" Jonathan asks gently while kissing the top of your head that rests on his shoulder.

"No," You promise and hug him. The water has rinsed away all the stickiness and sweat, and now your muscles can relax. It feels good.

"I really meant it," Jonathan starts a more serious conversation, "I don't want to ruin our friendship for a one night thing. I care about you. I have for a while."

Just when you thought this man couldn't get any sweeter...

"I care about you too," You confess and lift your head so you can look him in the eye. He looks so soft right now with wet curls and tired eyes. The little freckles on his nose and cheeks stand out in the bathroom lighting.

"I... I wanted to tell you for so long but I didn't know how." You continue.

Jonathan smiles tiredly and caresses your cheek. "Well the cat's out of the bag now," He chuckles, making you smile as well.

"I probably should've taken you out to dinner before this," Jonathan thinks out loud.

You just shake your head, "well we've been friends for a while. I think our hangouts and going out for coffee should count."

Jonathan listens to you and nods, relaxing a little.

"Perhaps I can take you out for dinner as my girlfriend?" Jonathan asks boldly, not wanting to waste time. Sure, it's sudden but you're both adults and... he is sure about you.

"Sounds like a deal," You answer and then squeal out of pure excitement, leaning in to kiss him. Jonathan holds onto the back of your head and kisses you back, overjoyed at the moment. His other hand rests on your hip underwater.

His girlfriend.

You can't believe your luck. Jonathan is yours and you're his. At long last.

"I'm so happy," You whisper and nearly get emotional. For a long time, it felt like men like him didn't even exist. Yet here he is. Holding you so tenderly.

"I know, me too..." Jonathan shares your contentment. There's no place he'd rather be. It feels like life is giving him a second chance.

Once you finish the bath, Jonathan gives you one of his shirts to wear for the night since you didn't pack any pajamas, as staying the night wasn't part of the original plan for the night. He has a spare toothbrush for you, so you can get ready for bed properly with him.

It feels incredible to get in bed. It's already 3AM, as time just flew by when you were in-between the sheets. Right now, the bed smells clean and feels so soft against your tired bodies. Jonathan snuggles up against you and takes a deep breath.

"I hope you remember what page you were on in your book," You tell him as you see the books you knocked over.

Jonathan just laughs and holds you tighter, "I'm sure I'll find the page again. It was worth knocking over."

As you begin to fall asleep against him, Jonathan keeps touching you, rubbing your back and ensuring you won't be sore tomorrow morning. He falls asleep thinking about what breakfast he should make for you, preferably as a surprise in bed.

A/N: The Jonathan brain rot is real. I really hope you enjoyed this 🧡

#Jonathan levy #Jonathan Levy x reader #Jonathan Levy x f!Reader #Jonathan Levy x fem!Reader #Jonathan Levy smut #oscar isaac characters #oscar isaac character fanfiction #Jonathan Levy fanfiction #Jonathan Levy x Y/N #Jonathan Levy x You #scenes from a marriage #scenes from a marriage fanfiction #scenes from a marriage smut #smut

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luvbabydoll · 5 months ago

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velvet chains — chapter one

john price x female reader

warnings: kidnapping, themes of drugging, heavily inspired by the movie buffalo 66

you don’t see him watching you.

john is careful like that. a man with years of patience, of training, of knowing how to blend into the background while keeping his prey in sight. you go about your days—oblivious, routine, innocent. the perfect thing for a man like him to keep.

he learns everything about you before you ever know his name.

where you work. what time you take the train home. the way you fumble for your keys outside your apartment door, your breath huffing in the cold. he knows what books you read, what colors you wear, how you stir sugar into your coffee, lost in thought.

you make it so easy.

and john? he waits. he waits until the moment is perfect. until the military gala is days away and his men are hounding him about finding a date. he waits until the idea of parading you around—making you his—becomes too much to resist.

then, he takes you.

—

you wake up somewhere unfamiliar.

your head is cloudy, your limbs slow. the sheets beneath you are expensive, heavy, nothing like the ones on your own bed. the air smells like cedar and cologne. a warm glow filters in through heavy curtains, casting long shadows against dark wooden floors.

then you hear it. the low sound of someone breathing.

your body tenses.

you sit up too fast, the dizziness threatening to pull you back down. and that’s when you see him.

the man sitting across the room.

he’s older, broad-shouldered, with sharp blue eyes that never leave your face. his beard is trimmed, his posture relaxed—like none of this is unusual. like you belong here.

"you’re awake," he murmurs, voice deep, familiar in a way you can’t place.

your pulse slams against your ribs.

"where am i?" your voice is hoarse. fear curls hot in your stomach, flooding your veins with panic.

"you’re safe," he says.

that’s not an answer.

you push the blankets off, swing your legs over the side of the bed—only to freeze when you realize you’re not wearing your own clothes. the oversized sweater and skirt you had on earlier are gone, replaced with a silk slip, delicate against your skin.

your breath hitches.

"what the—"

"don’t panic," he says, standing. "you’ll ruin your pretty little face before the gala."

"gala?" your voice shakes.

he steps closer. you flinch. his eyes darken.

"the gala," he says smoothly, like it’s something you agreed to. "you’ll look beautiful on my arm."

your stomach twists.

"i—" your throat locks up. your eyes dart toward the door. run. you have to run.

he must see it in your face, because suddenly, he’s in front of you, towering, unshakable.

"don’t." his fingers brush your chin, tilting your head up until your eyes meet his. "wouldn’t be smart, love."

terror flares in your chest, but it’s drowned out by something else—the way he looks at you. like you already belong to him.

like running isn’t even an option.

#luvbabydoll ‧₊˚ ⋅#john price x reader #cod smut #john price x y/n #cod modern warfare #john price x you #john price x wife #john price fic #john price fanfiction #john price fluff #cod x you #cod x reader #cod x y/n #call of duty x female reader #call of duty x y/n #call of duty x you #call of duty x reader #call of duty

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blackmissfrizzle · 6 months ago

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MUTT

Pairings: Shifter!Terry x black!reader

Summary: The reader's friends try to convince the reader that Terry has feelings for her.

Warnings: None really, but girls just being girls. Oh, there's not too much Terry, but I promise you'll love it.

A/N: I think we all were feeling something after that thirst trap. It won an Oscar at my house lol

Click here for the Shifter!Terry masterlist and here for my complete masterlist.

Dinner with the girls was a necessity. Just like food, water, shelter, and a relationship with God. It was a form of self-care and could almost pull you out of the deepest of funks. Serena and Trisha were for your besties for life and you could tell them anything. Well, almost anything. The fact that the supernatural was real and Terry was a big ass dragon shifter was something that you had to keep under wraps.

If Terry hadn’t made you promise to keep his secret, your girls would’ve been knew. There was nothing that was kept a secret between y’all for too long. Big headed ass Terry and his damn rules. You told him they wouldn’t say anything, but of course it was “too much of a risk.”

“Anyways, I blocked that nigga on IG finally. He no longer has any access to me.” Trish finished her story about her on again, off again ex, Donovan. It pulled you from your thoughts of Terry, because she never blocked him off of everything. She must be serious this time.

Serena smirked while sipping on her third espresso martini. Her dark mocha eyes held a hint of mischief, which meant she was about to be messy. “Speaking of Instagram, did y’all see Terry’s story?”

“You mean his bat signal for YN to not go out with us after dinner and go snuggle up under him?” The two laughed and clinked glasses.

“What are you two heifers talking about?” They were insistent that Terry wanted to be more than friends with you, but they didn’t know what you knew. Terry has a fated mate. He had told you she was nearby.

Serena fingers tapped on her phone and then she turned the screen towards you. Leon Thomas’, ‘Mutt’ was playing, but the video contrasted the song. There was Terry in a beanie, grey sweater, and black hoochie daddy shorts doing weighted box squats. “Pause,” Serena couldn’t hide her giddiness. “This isn’t even the best part.”

What does she mean this is not the best part? How does it get better? He could be naked. These were inappropriate thoughts to be having about your best friend. It wasn’t your fault! Terry was just fine and then his print could not help but poke out, so you knew the man was packing some heat.

Your jaw dropped at the picture Serena revealed. Terry was sitting down, quads popping, beard moisturized, imposing shoulders, and blocking the aforementioned print.

“Damn bitch, are you about to lick my screen?” Serena cackled and Trisha joined her.

“Oh, fuck you!” You threw back without any venom.

“You need to be fucking that man!” Trisha pointed at Serena’s phone. “My mama said if you don’t ride that man, she will.”

Mama Wilma was too much. She was the one you could talk to about men and romance that you couldn’t talk to your Baptist mama about. With that being said, she was always trying to get you to fuck someone. “An orgasm a day, keeps the doctor.” And don’t try to correct her on the saying, she believes her is the original statement.

“Tell yo mama, that she can fuck him. He needs someone to turn him out.”

Both of your besties shared a silent look and then busted out laughing, causing some other patrons to look at your table, but none of you cared. “Imma hold your hand when I say this,” Trisha reached across the table and held your hand. “That man would turn my freaky ass mama out, not the other way around. Its those quiet niggas you gotta worry about. They be slanging dick like they’re Jason Luv.”

“Got you acting like a crack addict once you get the dick.” Serena added her two cents.

“Have you outside his job when he don’t answer your phone call.” Trisha shuddered. “Good dick is a prison.”

Your friends were extra as fuck, but not wrong. Good dick would make a woman act out of character. Especially good dick connected to a good man. One moment you’re screaming lyrics to Megan thee Stallion’s B.A.S. and in the next you’re singing along to Destiny Child’s Cater 2 U. There was no doubt, Terry would have a woman acting like this. Just not you. Even if he was down for an FWB type relationship, you would turn it down. No need to turn into Joe from You.

“Whatever woman that bags Terry Richmond will be a lucky woman, but she ain’t me. I told y’all we’re just friends.”

Serena ginger curls bounced as she shook her head. “Y’all are just friends, because of- I love you, friend, but you and that fine specimen of a man are only friends because of yo dumbass. YN, its evident to even blind ass Mr. Burleson, that Terry wants you. The way he looks at makes me feel like I’m intruding on something intimate.”

“Man wants to knock the Sonic coins out of you and then make you a bowl of ice cream. Lucky ass bitch and you want to be in denial. A shame.” Trisha tsked. “What are you afraid of?”

“Nothing. I’m just not what he’s looking for and we’re better as friends.”

“Thank God, he ain’t giving up on yo ass.” Serena gave you a kind smile. “One day you’re gonna look back on this and ask yourself how you could’ve been so blind. Don’t keep running from your destiny. This blessing has been a long time coming. You deserve to be loved like you’re a Kennedy Ryan main character.”

Leave it to Serena to turn jokes into a heartfelt moment. That witchy bitch knew exactly what she was doing. “As long as I can be Hen. Yasmen and Soledad got them damn kids. I’m the fun, childless auntie. The rich part is coming soon though.”

“Shit, the way Terry will be treating you, you’ll be like Yasmen,” You arched your eyebrow at Trisha. “…at the end of the book, of course.” She quickly fixed that statement.

As planned, the three of you hit up a lounge, because you were not standing up in anyone’s club with these heels on. If need be, y’all could stand up and dance and promptly sit back down without paying the outrageous fees for a section.

It was great to have drinks and dance on your friends, but in the back of your mind you didn’t mind being on Terry’s couch watching a black classic you hadn’t seen, since your mama didn’t raise you right, Terry’s words not yours.

“Oh shit!” Trisha squealed when she saw Terry’s text. “Daddy’s checking in!”

Terry: You better be safe while you’re out. Don’t let anyone give you a drink without watching the bartender, be aware of your surroundings, and notate every exit. The groin, eyes, and nose are the most sensitive areas of attack. Disorient first and then run, but if you can’t run fight, but you cannot hesitate.

Serena took your phone to read it all. “Damn, I got wet just reading this. See he knows how to take care of a woman. Girl, you need to tell him to teach you how to fight and y’all can ‘spar’”

You snatched your phone back. “He’s already doing that. And the nigga is cruel! I could probably join the marines right now with flying colors. Muthafucker got me doing jiu jitsu.”

You: 🫡Yes sir! Shall I send you a report?

Terry: Nah, you can tell me when you come over after y’all are done. I’m still up and my place is closer than yours is and I don’t want you driving this late.

You: T, I’m good. I haven’t drunk that much and the girls still have to get home too.

Terry: Come over. Serena and Trisha don’t live that far from each other and they’re still closer than you. They have each other. Have them drop you off at my place and I’ll take you to pick up your car tomorrow.

“He’s a good man, Savannah!” Both women said simultaneously.

You rolled your eyes at your friends and then purposefully left Terry on read. He was treating you like some damn child. Now you did land yourself in some questionable situations, but that was only sometimes.

Terry: Don’t make me come down there and pick yo ass up. Answer me, YN.

“Shit, don’t answer him! I wanna see if he’s gonna do it!” Trisha shimmied. “This is better than whatever I’m reading right now.”

You didn’t respond to her or Terry. He could kiss your black ass.

Terry: 10

You:

Terry 9

You:

Terry: 8

You:

Terry: 7. Keep playing with me, YN.

You:

Terry: 6

You:

Terry: 5. Alright, I’m putting on my sweats.

You:

Terry: 4

You:

Terry: 3

“Oh, you brave!” Serena took a shot. “Go on and listen to Trisha and you gonna fuck around and find out. That man will have you tied up somewhere, screaming out ungodly things.”

You:

Terry: 2. I got my keys in my hand. Imma be pissed if I gotta go out in this cold, baby girl.

You: …

Your finger typed and erased the words, hoping to stall Terry, but his text came in at the same time.

Terry: 1.

You: Damn it! Okay, I’ll come over. You lucky I got my spend the night bag with me.

Terry: Good girl. Text me when you leave and when you’re outside.

You: I’ll just knock on your door.

Terry: TEXT ME.

You: OKAY BOSSY!

“Bitch, you better than me! I would’ve told him make me.” Trisha stuck her tongue out.

“Because you’re a maschoist.” Serena eyed Trisha like she was crazy.

“No, I’m a brat and you’re a good girl. I’m telling you that punishment don’t be feeling like punishment at the end of the night.”

“Both of y’all bitches are nastyyy!” You did your best Raven Baxter impression. “He wasn’t gonna do shit but drag me put of this lounge.”

Trisha grabbed both of your cheeks so all of your attention was on her. She was a little bit past tipsy. “Yeah, because you won’t let him do anything else. Ball is in your court, baby girl.”

The night went on without any interruptions from Terry Richmond. You consumed far more drinks than you decided on, since you weren’t driving home and maybe it gave you some liquid courage to face Terry. This wouldn’t be the first time you spent the night at his place, but your friend’s advice swirled around in your mind. Could Terry be interested in something more? Nah, that was the liquor talking and your friends being good friends by pumping your head up.

As requested, or as ordered, you text Terry once y’all left and once you arrived in front of his house. The last part was unnecessary because he was already waiting outside for you.

“Hey Terry!” The girls sang. Trisha’s greeting was evidently more slurred than Serena’s.

“Hey ladies,” he laughed, grabbed your bag then opened your door. “Y’all have a good night?” His hand didn’t leave you and he kept you pretty close to his body. Probably to shield you from the cold.

“Yeah except, we didn’t find husbands.” Serena put a thumb down.

“But a few guys were looking YN’s way. Trisha’s messy ass added in.

“Word?” Terry questioning eyes bored into yours, before they added warmth and turned back to your friends. “She gotta tell me about it.”

He leaned his arm against the car and lowered his head to be eye level with Serena. “You good to drive back home? If not, you can stay here. I got more than enough room or I can get y’all an uber.”

Did Serena blush? No one made this bitch blush. “No, we’re good. Thank you though. I’m letting drunky spend the night with me.”

“Alright. Y’all text YN when you get in safely.” He tapped the top of the car, and they drove off. Both of y’all waved them off and watched the car until it disappeared.

Trisha: Oooo, he’s a gentleman. I damn near wanted to say ‘Yes daddy’, but I’ll leave that to you.

You: Bye hoe! Text me later.

Trisha: Love you too. Serena said she was gonna tell you to make sure he wraps it up, but she forgot it was Terry we were talking about.

You: BYE!!!

“They acting a fool in the group chat?” Terry opened his door for you.

“Per usual. So why did you demand me here?”

Because he couldn’t risk you to be in some other nigga’s bed. Terry was hesitant to tell you about you being his mate, but he couldn’t have it in the back of his mind, you potentially being in bed with another man. He would crash out and burn down this whole town, so he needed to avoid that crisis. “I told you. Its safer for you to be here tonight. There’s been a rise in drunk drivers and your drive is too isolated for this late at night.” Nice save, Terry. You quickly agreed.

“May I help you?” He swore you were made from fire with the little attitude you had. Terry handed you a water and continued to appreciate the dress you had on. The green dress was similar to the color of his scales and complimented your skin so well. It hugged your curves, but loose. You paired it with some tights and knee-high boots. No wonder men were looking at you.

“Go change.” It hurt him to say that, but he knew your feet were killing you.

“In a bit.” You sat in one of his stools. Terry took the opportunity to take off your boots. “God,” you moaned and he had to pretend that did not affect him. “Beauty comes at a price.”

“You’re already beautiful.”

“You’re too sweet.” You slid off the chair, but Terry decided to carry you instead.

“I got you.” Your duffle hung off his shoulder as he carried you to the guestroom. “I’ll be downstairs watching tv if you want to stay up for a bit. Or you can just stay up here and sleep.”

“Thanks T.” You smiled and it made it worth it by irritating you earlier. A couple of facial muscles and 32 teeth just made his fucking night. Terry heard from other dragons that found their mates and thought they were overexaggerating, but one look at you changed his mind. Damn, he loved how you rolled your eyes, even though he wished he had them rolling for a different reason. Only if he could find a way to tell you the truth without scaring you.

Terry was about to go to bed when you came downstairs. Hair already tucked into a bonnet, face cleared of makeup, and an oversized tee and you were the most beautiful woman to him. “Took you long enough.” He needed to say something other than his confession. Telling you that you were his mate after a night out with the girls wasn’t ideal.

“You always got something smart to say.” You sat down right next to him and laid your head on his shoulder. “Its like you’re my own personal space heater. Do all dragons run hot?”

“Most do. There are dragons from colder climates that can breathe ice.” Terry went on a tangent, because one, he didn’t have anyone else to talk about dragons with, but also two, you were inquisitive and loved hearing more about his people.

The mini lecture had made its way to the dragons of London when Terry heard the first snore. He wasn’t offended at all. Each time you fell asleep near him it brought him joy, because it meant you trusted him wholeheartedly.

Terry made sure not to disturb your rest as he carried you upstairs. He stopped directly in between his room and yours. The right thing to do was to open your door and deposit you on the bed and go back to his room. But for once, Terry didn’t want to do the right thing and it didn’t help that his dragon agreed. “We protect our treasure.”

Being true to his dragon nature, Terry took you to his room and laid you on his bed. He curled up right behind you, not bothering to pull the covers over yet. Him and his dragon were at peace. Only now he had to worry about is how to get you in his bed forever.