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buckyscrystalqueen · 6 years

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Star Crossed Rivalry: Part 2

Pairings: Opie x Reader (SOA/TWD MC AU Crossover ) Negan daughter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff, Smut

Word Count: 4,582

Part 1

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“Do you know how much of a fucking baby you are?” You asked your dog as you carried him the last block to your house. “Huh? You’re just a big old baby because of a damn chihuahua. Thing is like half your fucking size and you just run off, screaming like a little bitch.” You tilted your head to look at your fur child with a shake of your head. “No wonder mommy was the only one who wanted you. My ugly little baby boy. Scared of his own shadow…”

“Aren’t you supposed to put him down to walk him?” Opie asked, causing you to jump back and pull a gun from the small of your back. He raised his hands in surrender and chuckled as you scowled.

“Good way to get yourself killed.” You said as you put your gun back and set Creature down on the ground.

“Didn’t realize you carried, too.” He said as he moved his jacket aside with his hand in the pocket to show you a glimpse of the piece he had in a shoulder harness under his arm.

“Think you’re a faster draw?” You asked as you stopped beside his bike and glanced at the electrical tape on the gas tank. “What…?”

“Hides the giant SOA lettering.” He said as you took the cigarette from his hand. “And we can put it to the test one day if you want.” You nodded and handed him back his cigarette.

“I’ll win.” You said with a smile. “So what’s up? Thought you were spending time with your mama.”

“That was my intention.” He said as he took the last drag of his cigarette and put it out on the bottom of his boot. “But it was apparently one sided.”

“Damn.” You said as you bent down and caught Creature around the middle before he went wandering off. “You wanna go for a ride? I wanna show you something.”

“I got nothing else to do today.” You smiled and nodded as you glanced at your house.

“Let me put the little scaredy cat up. Give me a second?”

“Take your time.” He agreed with a smile.

——

“Not really dressed for hiking when there’s no fucking path.” Opie said as he followed you down an unmaintained, basically non existent path in the middle of nowhere. You smirked and looked back over your shoulder at him as he pulled up his jeans so he wouldn't trip, making the chain holding his wallet swing even more on his hip and catch a twig.

“Will you relax?” You laughed as you stepped over a rock and took a left at a tree with a small peace sign carved into it. “We’re almost there.” He hummed behind you, and ducked under a low hanging branch as the path opened up to your ‘hiding spot’; a small little hot spring hidden in a cluster of trees. “My mom found this place as a kid. She used to bring me here when I was young when the club went into lockdown. She didn’t want me to be in harms way or around a bunch of drunk guys and sluts at that young age and this was my dad’s compromise.”

“This is beautiful.” He said as you walked past him toward a giant rock on the bank.

“You coming in?” You asked as you pulled off your shoes and socks and put them on the rock. “It’s a hot spring.”

“Wait, you’re serious?” He asked as you pulled off your shirt and tossed it on your shoes.

“No, I’m just stripping for my health.” You laughed as you pulled off your jogging pants. You cocked your eyebrow at him as he tilted his head and shamelessly checked out your body. “Hey! Little privacy?” He smirked at you and turned to the side so you could take off your bra and panties. You climbed up the rock and dove in to the exactly 97 degree water, and when you surfaced, you called him forward with your finger. “Your turn.”

“You’re outta your damn mind.” He said as he unzipped his jacket and pulled it off.

“You’re the one that decided to come back over to my house.” You teased as you tread water. “You coulda went home. Your fault.” You heard his slight chuckle as he pulled his black t-shirt over his head revealing the perfect combination of muscle to tattooed man. You bit your lip and nodded to yourself as he started unbuckling his belt before he noticed you staring.

“Your turn.” He called out with a twirl of his finger.

“You’re no fun.” You complained as you obliged and turned in the water. You swam around for a few moments before a splash directly behind you startled you. A half second later, you were yanked under the water by your ankles. “You son of a bitch!” You laughed when you surfaced as you both wiped the water from your eyes.

“Blame yourself.” He chuckled as he pushed his hair back out of his face. “This is amazing.”

“Told you.” You sighed, contently.

“So this place is sacred to you.” Opie said as he laid back in the water the slightest bit. “Why would you bring me here?”

“Honestly?” You asked as you swam over to a partially submerged rock and sat down on a flat spot you knew was there. “I love coming here. I come here to hide, to think, to talk to my mom. It’s just the perfect place in the world where the club doesn’t exist. Guns, and hate, and death don’t exist here. The only thing that matters here is nature. I brought you because not only did you come back, proving that there is such a thing as a man that’s not intimidated by my father, but I know that there is no way in hell you could find it again without me.”

“OK, let’s get something straight here.” He said as he swam over to you and searched under the water with his hands for a place to sit as well. “Your dad is fucking terrifying. And I’m not scared of shit. But for someone to look at me the way you do, knowing exactly what kinda life I lead, and open their home anyways? Shit, I need to get to know you no matter how fucking intimidating your dad is.”

“You say that now. But he’s gunna find out you’re a Son sooner or later.”

“Well here’s to hoping it’s later.” He said with a smile. His eyes trailed away to look around your little haven before looking down at the barely murky water. “Look, I don’t know how to say this… but I like you. I wanna get to know you, but I know that doing so is risky for so many reasons. I think it’d be worth figuring out…”

“What about Charming? Your brothers?”

“Told ‘em I’m staying with my sick mother for a while.”

“You don’t even know me…”

“Don’t I?” He said as he finally looked over at you. “We both know how fast paced the MC life can be. And if I learned anything in prison, it’s to grab life by the fucking balls. I have something in front of me that could last a day or a month, maybe even a year or forever. But why should we deny ourselves a little bit of fun one way or another? Even if it is for a short time.”

“So what, you wanna be my friend with benefits?” You said with a hint of sarcasm in your tone as you leaned back against the rock, letting just the tops of your breasts peek out above the water.

“Fuck buddy, girlfriend, friend, old lady… why does it have to have a label? Why can’t it just be two people, who appreciate what’s in front of them for as long as possible?” You looked away from him with a sigh as he gestured to you and your spot in general.

“Ope, this is a bad idea.” You said as he pushed off the rock and swam in front of you.

“I’m all about bad ideas, sweetheart.” He said as he easily lifted you off the rock. “I’m a fucking Son.”

“A Son with a death wish.” You said as you wrapped your legs around his waist.

“That’s the best kind of Son.” He said as he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest. “Come on, (Y/N). Admit it. You wouldn’t have invited me to your house if you didn’t wanna fuck me, too.”

“Oh, you cocky son of a bitch.” You laughed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, and leaned forward to capture his lips with yours. He hummed against your lips and hugged you tight as he kept you both afloat in the water. After a few moments, he pulled back to catch his breath, sending a shiver down your spine when his wet beard brushed across your chest.

“Goddamn it, Opie. You’re gunna be the fucking death of me.”

“Worth it.”

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

Negan was used to going all day or more without seeing you for one reason or another. If it wasn’t because of club business, it was because of the adventurous ‘hippie’ soul you had inherited from Lucille. Just like his late wife, you were always spending your days getting lost in the woods, or making a new jogging path through the neighborhood he and your mother had called home since before you were even born. He knew that there was a ninety-nine percent chance if you didn’t come home at night, you could be found down by the little lake your mother loved to take you to as a child, camping out under the stars, and telling her all about your day.

He wasn’t, however, used to seeing you coming home from fuck only knows on the back of some assholes motorcycle.

“The fuck is this shit?” He growled to Simon as he watched you get off the bike right before Opie. His eyes narrowed as the tall, tattooed man tickled your sides before picking you up over his shoulder and carrying you toward the front door of your house. Negan leapt to his feet as the sounds of your laughter danced across the mountain. “Fuck this shit. Where’s my fucking gun?”

“It’s just a guy, boss.” Simon called out toward Negan’s back before he sighed and followed his president through the small line of trees between your houses. “Aw, man. Fuck.” He sighed to himself as Negan walked right into your house without even knocking.

“Out!” Negan roared, causing Opie to startle and fall off of you on to the floor from the couch. You lurched upright, momentarily grateful that you had only just gotten back and hadn’t been able to get farther than you were.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” You screeched as you pulled your shirt back into place and got to your feet. “You can’t just walk in here…”

“Fuck I can’t!” Your father said as he took a couple steps back from you pushing him toward the door. “I can do whatever the fuck I want, little girl.”

“No, you can’t!” You repeated as you glared up at him. “This is my fucking house!”

“That I fucking payed for!” He snapped back as Simon shook his head at Opie before the latter could interject.

“And I’m not one of your fucking things you can boss around!” You screamed as you shoved your father back toward the front door again. “I’m your fucking kid!”

“And as my fucking kid, you should show some Goddamn respect!”

“You want respect?” You asked as you jabbed your finger into his chest. “Then give me some fucking respect in return. Don’t come fucking barging into my mother fucking house, demanding my fucking company to fucking leave. I’m an adult, Dad, not a child. I can make my own choices on who I have in my house. I am old enough to be able to look at someone and know if they are good or fucking bad for me. And if you were to take five fucking seconds to be a fucking father and not try to fucking scare off every fucking guy I try to bring home, maybe you would see that you did a really good fucking job in raising me!” Negan blinked at you a couple times in shock as you glanced over and pointed at Simon. “And get your goon out of my house!”

“Fuck, could you be anymore like your mother?” Negan asked as his face softened the slightest bit, revealing your father to you and not the president of the MC. You sighed and put your hands on your hips with a small shake of your head.

“Are you done barging in to my fucking house?” He rolled his eyes, sarcastically and gestured for Simon to leave before sizing up Opie.

“House party tomorrow night.” He said as he looked back down at you. “Bring him if you think he can handle his fucking own.”

“Oh no.” You said as Negan turned on his heel and walked out the front door without a glance back. “You’re not using the club to scare him off!”

“Nine PM daughter!” He chuckled as he headed back through the trees. “Everyone’s coming.” You froze in the doorway for a moment and rapped your fingers on the frame as he disappeared into his house with Simon.

“Mother fucker.” You grumbled as you grabbed the front door and slammed it closed.

“What?” You shook your head and turned around to look at the man standing in your living room.

“He wants you to meet the presidents of every Saviors charter tomorrow night.”

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

“About fucking time you got here.” Negan said as you lead Opie into the Saviors club house, the Sanctuary, at quarter ‘til ten the next night. “I told you nine.”

“And I didn’t know what to wear.” You said as you kissed his cheek and glanced at the pool game he was playing with your ‘uncle’ Rick, the president of the Alexandria charter out of Virginia. “We’re going to get a drink.”

“Not without saying hello to your Aunt first, you’re not.” Your ‘aunt’, Michonne said as she stood up with a smile.

“Aunt ‘Chonne!” You cooed as you let go of Opie’s hand for a moment to give the VP of Alexandria a hug. “How’s Virginia?”

“Cold.” She said as she took a step back and looked over at Opie. “Who’s this, a new prospect?”

“It’s Opie.” He said with a smile as he stepped forward and shook Michonne’s hand. “Not looking to prospect.”

“He’s just here to stake his claim on my heart.” You said with a glance over at your dad as he talked to Rick in hushed tones about your date.

“Oh no.” Michonne breathed as she looked over at her husband with a shake of her head.

“Oh yea.” You confirmed. “So I purposely came late, plan on staying just long enough to say hi to everyone, then I’m getting out of here as fast as physically possible so I don’t lose another one to the club.”

“Good choice.” She said with a nod as she eyed Opie up and down. “Looks like a keeper.” You smiled as a slight flush rose on Opie’s cheeks.

“I hope so.” You said as you wrapped your arm around his waist and looked up at him with a smile. “He seems like the perfect balance of trouble.”

“That would be you.” He teased as he rubbed your shoulder and looked at the patches on the front of her leather kutte.

“Hey, is Maggie here yet?” You asked as you looked around the crowded room.

“She’s up in the President’s suite with the boy.” Michonne said as she pointed to the back stairs. “Little man wasn’t feeling well, so she had to bring him along for the weekend trip.”

“Shit.” You sighed as you looked back at the stairs that lead to the countless amounts of dorms in the repurposed old factory. “Poor thing. I’ll head up there in a bit to say hi then. Get a drink first.”

“Stay out of trouble, little girl.” She said as she kissed your cheek before reaching out to squeeze Opie’s arm. “Stay strong.” He nodded his head as the VP turned her attention back to her husband and your dad with a scowl on her face.

“Female patches?” Opie asked as he lead you through the crowd toward the giant bar that took up half the far wall of the room.

“We’re a club of equality.” You told him with a nod. “My mom started it when a woman named Regina wanted to prospect when I was around 11. My mom told my dad to let her do it, knowing full well that Gigi would outshine any other prospect. And damn did she ever. She patched in a month early of her prospect term, and started a whole new wave of female members in the ranks.” Opie nodded as you ordered two beers from the prospect behind the bar that you knew wasn’t going to make it in the club much longer. You passed him his drink and gestured to the couch you always claimed as yours when you were at the club house with your bottle.

“Officers positions were always for men.” You said as two Kingdom patches got up from your couch for you. You sat down beside Opie and put your legs over his lap to subtly tell people to leave you alone. “It wasn’t just a gender thing, it just happened that all the positions have been taken by men since the club started. Until Glenn. He was the President of the Hilltop just outside of Atlanta. About six years ago, he found out he had cancer. Took him quick. When he was asked who he wanted to replace his legacy, his answer was his wife, Maggie. My dad didn’t hesitate to agree to Maggie being the president to show me that I could one day do the same thing. Sort of a double edged threat, and promise you know.”

“Wow.” He breathed as he brushed his hand across your jean covered shins. “But you never prospected?”

“I never wanted to.” You said with a glance over at your father. “My mom was never a fan of the MC, but she loved my father more than life itself. She passed away just after my 13th birthday. The heartbreak from losing her coupled with the women of the club trying to mother me after her death to get closer to my dad, pushed me farther away from the club. My dad got to the point where he realized that if he pushed me toward prospecting when I turned 17, he’d lose me forever. So he backed off me following his footsteps. And instead, he let me go… on a short leash, of course. And then he tried to get all the guys I brought home that would take me away to prospect to try to get me to stay close to the club.” You looked up at Opie with a smile and leaned into his chest. “Guess I just had to go to a rival club to find a date.”

“Well lucky me.” He said as he brushed his fingertips down your spine. You smiled and nodded as he leaned down to give you a chaste kiss while your ex, Alden, called out your name.

“You gunna say hi or what?” He asked.

“Fuck off, Alden.” You said as you rolled your head on Opie’s chest to look over at him. “Go shove your head back up my dad’s ass.” Opie choked back a laugh as you kicked your legs off his lap and reached out your hand for his. “Come on. Let’s go mingle.”

“Wait, (Y/N). I just wanted to say…” Alden tried until your six foot four beau stood up and towered over him.

“Pretty sure the lady said fuck off.” Ope said with a shrug as he reached out for your hand. “But you could always keep trying to talk to my old lady. That works too.” You tried to keep your face unreadable as you turned around to look at Opie with a small smile.

“Word choice.” You whispered as Alden walked away, thankfully not noticing the title Opie used. “Old lady is more of an MC term.”

“Fuck. Sorry, baby.” You nodded your head as you glanced at the few people around you that were thankfully too lost in their own conversations or the music to notice Opie’s slip. You nodded your head and laced your arm with his.

“Let’s go, trouble.”

——

“Daddy.” You said softly, not wanting to interrupt his poker game to much. “We’re leaving.” Negan barely glanced over at you as his words registered in his head before he turned in the chair to look at you and his watch.

“It’s not even fucking midnight!” He shouted as he threw his cards face down on the table. “He…”

“He’s taking me home.” You said as you stepped back toward Opie before your dad could get to him to pull him away. “Daddy, please…”

“I need to have a fucking drink with the man.” He said as he searched your eyes.

“Dad.” You repeated as you put your hand on his chest. “Please. Not him.” Your father sighed subtly and reached up to put his hand on yours on his chest.

“Are you fucking sure about this asshole?” He asked loud enough for only you to hear over the music. You nodded your head and smiled, knowing how tricky your dad could be when he wants answers which would only lead to trouble if you didn’t leave at that moment.

“I’m sure.” You repeated. Your father nodded his head and bent down to kiss your forehead.

“Make sure you lock up the house. I’m staying here tonight.” You nodded your head as he sized Opie up. “Make sure you get my fucking daughter home.”

“You got it.” He said with a nod as you reached back for his hand.

“Bye Dad!” You squeaked as you turned on your heel and pulled Opie out of the side room after you. You said good bye to a few people between you and the door before making your way into the cold night air. “You know what I think?” You said as you turned in your spot in the moon light. “I think… since we won’t have any nosy neighbors… a lovely dip in the hot tub is just want the two of us need.” He hummed and wrapped his arms around your middle as he walked you backwards to his motorcycle.

“I think, that sounds like fucking heaven.” You let out a squealed laugh as he lifted up and set you down on the seat of his bike. He playfully nipped at your bottom lip as you wrapped your arms and legs around his body. “Let’s go, beautiful.” You nodded your head and shifted back on the seat as he straddled his bike and passed you back your helmet. The ride back was beautifully peaceful and you were pulling up your private road in under twenty minutes. You couldn’t stop yourself the entire journey from teasing your companion, and because of that, clothes hit the wood floor as fast as physically possible the second you walked in the door. The two of you fucked and came before you even made it out the back door.

“That wasn’t supposed to happen.” You laughed as you lowered yourself into the hot water. “We were supposed to have a beer, stare at the stars, and fuck slowly and passionately…”

“I don’t do slow and passionate.” Opie chuckled as he got in beside you and pulled you onto his lap. “I fuck. Hard, fast, and fucking rough.”

“And you are oh so fucking good at it.” You said as you ran your fingertips up his bare, tattooed chest. “I could happily fuck you all fucking day.”

“I am up for that challenge.” He said as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brushed your hands across the Sons tattoo on his back. You smiled and rested your forehead against his as he pulled your hips back toward his.

“Promise?”

“For as long as you want me, baby.” You smiled and captured his lips with yours as he lined himself up and pushed himself back into your core. Your mouth fell slack as you moved your legs on the seat to get him as deep as physically possible.

“Fuuuck.” You moaned as you held his shoulders and leaned back for even more room. Opie instantly stood up and turned so that you were partially sitting on the seat. He growled and spread your legs wider as he found his footing.

“Goddamn I could fucking live between your fucking legs, woman.”

“Opie, fucking move!”

“Yea ma’am.” He teased as he gripped your thighs and picked up a forceful pace. You laced your fingers in his long hair and pulled him down to you with a throaty whine. He nodded his head as he devoured your lips. Every inch of your body thrummed with need as he fucked you like your lives depended on it. Your moans echoed across your yard, like a kinky symphony for nature to hear. Both of you tried to hold on to one another in the water, your limbs slipping across each others bodies until Opie finally gave up.

“Come here.” He growled as he pulled out of you and lifted you up out of the water into the chilly air. He jumped out of the hot tub behind you and quickly bent you over the side before slamming back into you from behind.

“Oh fuck, Ope.” You gasped as you propped your foot up on the stairs and held on to the edge of the tub.

“Fuck, so much better.” He said as he grabbed your hair and your shoulder to hold on to. “Cum for me, little girl. Cum on my dick. Let me fucking feel you, baby.” You whined and nodded your head as you risked letting go of the edge of your hot tub to find your clit.

“Opie, so close.” You whined as you rubbed fast circles on your bud. Opie gave a quick, firm yank of your hair, sending you over the edge as a quivering mess. With a shout, Opie came right after you, burying himself deep in your warmth as a shiver raced down your spine. You fell on the plastic siding and reached back to pull Opie down on top of you to keep you both warm.

“OK, come here.” He said after a moment as he forced himself to pull out and picked you up. “It’s fucking cold.” You giggled and nodded in agreement as he shifted you in his arms and set you back into the warm water. He quickly jumped in after you, splashing water all over the place as he huddled down into the water as deep as he could go and pulling you on his lap.

“Perfect.” You said as you curled into his chest, trying to take whatever warmth you could from him. He nodded his head and kissed forehead as he held you tight to his chest.

“Perfect.”

Part 3

#Opie x Reader #Star Crossed Rivalry #Opie Winston x Reader

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amymel86 · 6 years

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Mistress Alayne - chapter 3

The day that Jon had unsuspectingly booked an appointment with her was like all Sansa’s Christmases had come at once in a neatly packaged curly haired bundle. The last time Sansa had clasped eyes on Jon Snow had been in her very early twenties, when her parents had thrown a party in his honour to celebrate the big new change in his life – moving to King’s Landing and starting his career. Looking back now, Sansa could admit that she was still just a girl. Sure, her body had matured, her curves were that of a woman, but her heart had remained juvenile and hopeful.

There had been a part of her –a rather big part- that had daydreamed and hoped that Jon wouldn’t leave. That he’d see the error of his ways, declare that the feelings she dreamt he harboured for her meant more to him than any high-flying job down in the capitol. But alas, any sentiments of a romantic notion that Jon might’ve held for Sansa had all apparently originated from her imagination, and that’s where they had stayed. Jon didn’t change his mind about moving miles and miles away from her, he didn’t declare his love…he didn’t even properly say goodbye. And like the first candle to be snuffed out before the rest, Jon had shown Sansa that she mustn’t hang her dreams and silly ideas of love aloft for a swift breeze to extinguish her flame.

It wasn’t really Jon’s fault of course. He obviously had no inkling that Robb’s annoying little sister -the one he didn’t hang out with all the time- was into him. (‘Into him’ was most likely an understatement, her girlish sensibilities had thought her in love.) But Sansa Stark knows better now. She’s finally a woman grown and no longer a slave to her emotions. Jon may have unknowingly held a nail to that coffin, but it was Joffrey who truly brought down the hammer with a devastating crash. And Sansa no longer tries to prize open the resting place of that naïve little girl – and she’s better off for it.

It has been a month since she had walked out of the bathroom of The Winter Suite and was met with the wide eyes and gaping mouth of one Mr Jon Snow. Her heart had stuttered a boom-badda-boom rhythm in her chest once she had realised who she was facing, it galloped even faster once she saw the realisation in his eyes at who it was he was facing.

She’d made a good job of keeping her side-line business under the radar as far as her friends and family are concerned and she had, for all intents and purposes, wanted to keep it that way. But then in strolled Jon, looking as handsome as ever, making her heart lurch against the iron bars of the cage she’d constructed around it.

Mistress Alayne had kicked in then. She was no longer a girl, no longer that person who daydreamed about her brother’s best friend. She was over that. Completely, totally over it. And there was a part of her that delighted in the thought of Jon becoming her client. For as much as Sansa will argue that she does not provide a sexual experience for her customers, there’s no denying that each and every one of them get a rush of arousal from her cuffs, her spanking paddle, her corsets and spiked high heels.

If she’s as good at her job as she thinks she is, then there’s no way that Jon Snow won’t be thinking about her between their sessions. And that gives her a little thrill. If only it weren’t tainted by this woman that Jon was lusting after but can’t have – his guilty little secret which requires his punishment. She could, if she allowed herself to, wallow down that dark and dank path of jealousy, but she won’t. Mistress Alayne is no victim to that kind of pain…but she’ll readily dish out a different sort.

He’d been hesitant during their first session, like a skittish little lamb. She still remembers the current of satisfaction and excitement running through her veins when she’d stepped out from the bathroom to see that Jon had stayed. He had been sat on the bed with wide doe eyes, fingers biting and releasing into the feather duvet at the very edge of the bed, his tongue darting out to swipe across his lip. Oh, she was going to enjoy this.

“A good choice” Mistress Alayne purred as she appraised the soft silk restraints that lay beside him on the bed, “to begin with.” Sansa stalked forward, careful to place one heeled foot directly in front of the other in a way that made her hips sashay hypnotically. She watched Jon swallow the lump in his throat, excited from knowing she was the one to put that lump there in the first place. “I have rules,” she declared now that she was stood directly before him, reaching forward to hook a finger under his chin and tilting his face up towards her, “all my naughty boys have to conform to my rules, Jon. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he whispered hoarsely.

“Yes, what?”

“Uh…yes…Mistress Alayne.”

“That’s better,” Sansa cooed, stoking a single finger down the side of Jon’s face, the blood in her veins singing at the hitch in his breath. “Now, naughtiness must be punished,” she stated, beginning to card her fingers through his curls over and over like she’d wanted to do for so, so long. Jon groaned, his eyes fluttering closed as Sansa grinned down at him, excited by just how receptive he was being to her already and they hadn’t even started. “Listen to me, Jon!” she tugged sharply on his hair, gripping it with a fist. Jon’s eyes flew open, his pupils blown wide.

“Mistress knows best,” she declared, keeping a firm hold on his inky locks, “but if it gets too much, you say ‘snowfall’ and I’ll stop and soothe your hurts away,” she paused to pout down at him, her fingers now spearing through his hair again, gently stroking his scalp like he were her eager pet. Sansa swears she hears him whimper into her attentions and decides that she likes this altogether far too much. “If you don’t want me to stop what I’m doing, but the sting to too biting for you to bear, you say ‘weirwood’ and I’ll be softer so you can be good and take your punishment.”

Jon looked to be almost in a trance, soft and pliant with heavy lidded eyes. He reminded her of a cat enjoying his owner’s attention. As if under an enchantment, he lifted his hands and curled them around her waist, “Sansa,” he implored in a voice both gravelly and molten. Sansa swiftly struck him across the face with an open palm, only enough for a slight tingle in her fingers, the slap stunning him none-the-less. Jon gasped and blinked up at her in shock, his hands leaving her instantly.

“I did not give you permission to touch me Jon.”

“I’m…I’m sorry, I just-“ Jon stammered, leaning forwards earnestly as if he were about to drop to his knees and grovel. Perhaps she’ll have him do that, she thinks, but not just yet.

“Take off your clothes, you wicked man,” Sansa chastised before walking away as if in disgust. There was a definite pause behind her. “Are you going to be disobedient today, Jon?” she baited, waiting to see if he’d use one of the safe words or comply. Sansa grinned to herself and tapped her fingers lightly over the surface of her vanity table as she heard the rustle of clothes being removed behind her.

She turned, letting her eyes drink in the hard planes and defined muscle of his broad chest. Jon Snow had definitely been working on his physique since he’d left Winterfell. He shifted under her scrutiny as she allowed herself the unabashed appraisal of his form. Sansa Stark would never do this, Sansa Stark was the one who had averted her gaze and blushed furiously that year that Jon Snow had risen dripping wet from the Stark’s summer house pool – Mistress Alayne however, well, a Mistress can look her fill of her client as they squirm on the spot (which Jon was most certainly doing right now.) She frowned at his low-slung jeans still clinging to his hips, his hands hanging at his sides with seemingly no intention of taking them off. Raising a brow, Sansa looked him in the eye.

Jon licked his lips and shook his head. “I’d rather not…um…maybe not this time?…if-if that’s ok?…Mistress.”

She twitched her lips and gave a small, single nod of her head. She’ll allow him this today, even if she’s denied the gratification that comes with the sound of her paddle kissing his bare ass. Sansa pulled her spine taut and took a sharp draw of air through her nose before she stalked forwards, making a show of mapping out every pore of his visible skin, looking him up and down as she circled Jon slowly. Strutting around him like she were nothing more than prey and she his preditor. Jon watched her both warily and and hungrily, puffing out his chest as she drank him in.

Reaching out to graze her nails across his shoulder, Sansa kept the contact as she continued to track around him, dragging her fingertips along his shoulder blades and then around to his front. Jon was holding his breath, she could tell. His heart thrummed excitedly in his chest as she raked her nails lightly down, down, down, her eyes following the movement. “This woman you cannot have,” she said suddenly, “tell me what you would do to her if you were given the chance. If you were allowed to.”

“Sansa, I-“

“Don’t make me strike that handsome face of yours again, Jon,” Sansa tutted, her eyes still cast downward, watching as Jon’s stomach muscles jumped and twitched when she gently scratched along the skin just above his belt. “There is no Sansa here,” she locked eyes with him, sending him a warning not to overstep again, “only Mistress.”

“Yes…Mistress,” Jon gulped.

Sansa dipped her forefinger and middle down into the front of Jon’s jeans and boxer shorts, getting a firm hook on the waistband before giving a sudden short tug forward. “Better,” she commented, her pulse racing and at complete odds with her cool exterior. Sansa masked her excitement well, but Jon apparently did not. The look in his eyes telling her that he would like nothing more at this moment than to devour her. She’ll take it – this thrill he’s giving her right here, right now, even if it’s really meant for another, this married woman of Jon’s. She wonders if they look alike; her and his guilty secret. Maybe Jon would prefer for Mrs Off-Limits to be the one admonishing him right now for all the filthy thoughts that have run ragged through that pretty head of his.

“Tell me Jon,” she said, releasing her grip on his clothing and reaching up to stroke a finger down the side of his neck, past the bob of his throat and down the hard muscle of his chest, “do you touch yourself when you think of her?”

“Uh-“

“Tell Mistress the truth, Jon” Sansa warned as she stalked around to his back again, thinking that perhaps if she weren’t directly in front of him Jon would find this first admission to be a slight bit easier. Her Mistress persona grinned as she was proven to be correct with Jon nodding his head. “Mmmm,” she purred, raking her nails down his spine harder than she had before, revelling in the way he shudders under her fingertips. “What would her husband think of you?” Sansa tutted, “desiring his wife, imagining touching, kissing, fucking his woman…is that why you want Mistress to punish you?” Sansa whispered her final words behind his ear, careful to make sure her lips would gently brush against him. Jon nodded and let out an uneven breath, only to sharply suck it back in again when Sansa nipped at the shell of his ear. She hadn’t meant to do that – to take his skin between her teeth or quickly swipe her warm wet tongue over it. She would never normally be that ‘intimate’ or ‘hands on’ with her other clients but she found the draw to do so was too great to ignore here with Jon.

“Go sit on the chair,” Sansa demanded, indicating to the seat by the writing desk. Jon hurried to do as she bid, making Sansa smile as she went to pick up the silk bindings that Jon had picked out for his first session. She sauntered forward slowly, passing the soft fabric through her fingers over and over again as Jon watched her approach, licking his lips in anticipation. “Wrists together, behind your back,” she barked. Jon complied immediately. “Good,” she praised as he allowed Sansa to bind his wrists together around the chairback. “You’re doing so well, Jon,” she cooed, stroking her fingers through his hair again, making Jon stifle a little groan of pleasure. With the remaining tie she had in her grasp, Sansa relieved him of his sight, wrapping the black silk over his eyes as a rather effective blindfold. Jon took a sharp, deep drag of hair through his nose in anticipation of what was to come.

Wickedly, Sansa just stood there, a silent smirk on her devil red lips. She didn’t touch him. She didn’t move. She hardly breathed. Jon’s nerves where alight and alert, she could practically see the energy crackling off him as he began breathing heavily, his chest and stomach rising and falling. He kept licking at those full lips of his, lips that she had oft fantasised about when she were the younger version of herself, naïve and foolish. She wonders if Jon has kissed this taken woman of his? Perhaps before she married…perhaps after? Sansa is unsuccessful at concealing the curl of her lip when she thinks of it, only just managing to hold back the snarl that would accompany the gesture. Having been on the sharp end of an adulterous relationship with Joffrey’s dalliances, she detests the notion wholeheartedly, and the very thought that kind, sweet, adorable Jon would entertain engaging in such a thing leaves her no room but to believe that inherently, all men are the same.

Or perhaps it’s more than lust. Perhaps he loves her?

A curious sharpness in her chest, an echo of her former self protests so forcefully at the notion before she silences it’s plea. Jon Snow’s love interests are of no consequence to me, she reaffirms, this is business, he’s a client. Nothing more.

“San-…Mistress?” Jon calls out into the silence, tentatively, alert, blood thrumming in his veins she can practically count the pulsating beats under the skin of his neck.

He gasps when Sansa finally relents seating herself across his lap. She can feel him hard against the underside of her thigh and grins as his breath stutters unevenly. “Tell me,” she hums, stroking slowly up and down his chest, “tell me what you think about doing to this woman when you take that hard cock of yours in your hand? Hm?”

Jon whimpers making Sansa take note that he is very much affected by her use of filthy words. “I…I think of kissing her,” he admits, causing Sansa to chuckle and shake her head.

Grabbing under Jon’s jaw with one hand, his neatly trimmed scruff tickling her palm, Sansa turns his face to the side. She’s not sure what poses her, but before she can stop herself she licks up his cheek with the flat of her tongue before pressing her face to the side of his. “Oh I think you can do better than that, Jon,” she rasps in what she hopes is a thick sultry voice. By the tension crackling in the tiny space between them, Sansa deduces that it’s working.

She’s not sure who’s she’s torturing more with her next move when she hikes up her skirt to change position, now straddling him. Her hips start shifting of their own accord, rocking and rubbing herself against the strain in his jean.

“Fuck!”Jon groans and Sansa has to remind herself to temper her excitement.

He’s a client, he’s a client, he’s a client….but I’ve never done this with a client before.

“Fuck?” she repeats his sentiment, continuing her tortuous movement against him, “is that what you think about doing to this woman, Jon? You want to fuck her?”

“Yes,” he whimpers, his head lolling back against the chair, stretching his throat.

“How?” Sansa leans forward to whisper at his jaw, “how would you like to fuck her? Tell me Jon.”

“I…” he licked his lips, seemingly gathering his courage and scattered thoughts. Sansa delighted in being able to affect him so. “I want her to ride me. Ride my cock.”

Sansa smirked to herself. He’s still holding back, she can tell. “Like this?” she bucks harder, faster against him, pulling another agonised lustful groan from him.

“Yes, yes, like that,” he nods furiously, his own hips now raising in time with hers. “Gods Sansa, I-“

He gasps again as she’s suddenly gone, leaving him empty lapped and hard, his hips stuttering to a holt. She’s silent again for a torturous beat or two before stalking around him in a delicious game of cat and mouse. “Ah-ah-ah,” she tuts, dragging the faintest amount of pressure from her nails across the length of his broad shoulders, “that was very naughty of you Jon,” she informs, him even when she’d like nothing more than to be rocking against him in his lap right now. That’s not what he’s here for. He’s here to be punished and Sansa has decided that teasing Jon Snow into a frenzy is a rather suitable penance. “First of all,” she grabs a fist if his soft curly hair and yanks on it hard, his head snapping back so she can lean over his blindfolded face, “it’s Mistress,” she reminds him.

“Sorry, Mistress,” he gulps, the bob of his exposed throat a mesmerising sight.

“Secondly,” Sansa pauses, smoothing her free hand down the side of his face, past his stretched out neck and down the front of his chest, the tips of her breasts gently touching his bent back forehead as she does, “you can’t have this woman. She is forbidden. You are incredibly wicked for thinking such depraved, naughty things of her. She’s not yours.”

The little puff of hot exhaled air that rushes from his mouth and fans over her chest as it hovers over him is all for too delicious for Sansa to bear. She snaps her body up straight, shoving Jon’s head up to it’s rightful position and strides away to her drawer of goodies, lest she do something completely mad like kiss a man who’s lusting after someone else.

“Stand up,” she commands, selecting a paddle from her collection, “it’s time for your punishment Jon Snow.”

Sansa smiles at the memory of the dull thwack Jon’s jeans-clad ass had received that first time. It wasn’t like that at all now, a whole month on. Jon has fast become one of her favourite regulars, especially now she’s managed to get him completely nude for their sessions.

Sansa hums to herself as her hands glide over the edge of the open drawer of goodies, wondering what he’ll pick for her to use on him today.

A knock at the door has her heart beating like a hummingbird’s wings and she has to take a breath before she can answer.

“Come in,” she calls, turning and plastering on a stern face as the door clicks open.

“Sansa,” Jon acknowledges warmly as he steps over the threshold. She raises a perfect brow expectantly making Jon lick excitedly at those sinfully full lips, “Mistress,” he corrects.

#jonsa #jon x sansa #mistress alayne

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yoolee · 7 years

Text

SLBP KAI REINCARNATIONS (with a Yukimura x MC pairing)

Shingen & Kansuke

Shingen remembers first. He’s in the military, and there’s a moment, when he’s leading his men (and women!) that he just knows. It’s as natural and comfortable as putting on a favorite piece of clothing – the transition between not remembering and carrying all of the memories is effortless.

(Not without some pain over things left undone and promises unkept, but, effortless)

First thing he does is start seeking out the others. Kai was always, ever Kai because of the people who were a part of it, and Shingen was who he was because of the people who surrounded him, he has as much a duty to them in this life as the last.

Kansuke is next! Medical researcher, life has always felt a bit…lacking, like he moves through a fog.

Fog finally, finally lifts when Shingen walks into his lab, grinning.

Mr Emotionless DEFINITELY CRIES bet me on this

Anyway, Shingen finishes his service and starts a business, because there are new ways to lead, and this offers him a better opportunity to get out and about and find everyone.

Yukimura

Like most of the fandom I am 100% onboard with professional athlete!Yukimura

Also possibly went into military after high school, because—not that he isn’t smart, he just has too much energy to sit in lectures and would rather do.

But then, A SPORT, of some kind (I saw judo as a recommendation, yes, good) and like, probably an Olympian because bringing HONOR and GLORY to his country is super Yukimura

Anyway Shingen sponsors him

And, Yukimura doesn’t remember just yet.

Shingen is quietly okay with that – Yukimura wouldn’t be Yukimura if he weren’t a little bit slow ^^;;

But really a big part of it is that he’s very much an in-the-moment person and he always has been, so while other characters grapple with a kind of ‘something is missing’ he just charges on ahead instead of lingering.

Saizo & Sasuke & MC

Saizo hasn’t always remembered, but has always known, to some extent.

Knowing makes him pay attention to things, so he’s paying attention when a screaming bundle is tossed into his arms and that’s how he knows the kid’s name is Sasuke.

Sasuke grows up remembering. Having a sort of double-set of memories is completely normal for him because it’s what he’s always known. He doesn’t talk about it much because he learns pretty early that it makes him different from other kids, who don’t have the same understanding of war and battle and loss that he does.

(But that means they also don’t have the same understanding of brotherhood, and heart, and strength)

Saizo remembers when he finds MC

But like, Saizo is literally the biggest MCxYukimura shipper out there and it’s just not right to reveal himself before Yukimura can

So he just keeps an eye out, to make sure she’s okay and well for when Yukimura shows up.

This includes sabotaging literally every single person who expresses a vague interest in her, because no, she is supposed to be with Yukimura thank you very much.

(He is not worried about Yukimura ending up with someone else – he is pretty confident that regardless of how many lifetimes he has lived since their shared one that in none of them did Yukimura learn to talk to a woman well enough to land a girlfriend - or boyfriend, or anything requiring romance in general)

Anyway, yes, sabotaging love interests becomes like a part time hobby (what is his real job the world will never know, all anyone knows is he always seems to have the cash he needs and a lot of free time)

(Mysteriously, every year during Sasuke’s Career Day at school there is some kind of incident before it’s Saizo’s turn – fire alarms, freak storms, mass food poisoning, bathrooms flooding, a swarming flock of crows in the gym…Sasuke stops asking him to come)

ANYWAY yes, sabotage – which he remembers, with relish, but with a few new modern skills to add to the mix. Phone calls with unfortunate test results, emails that look like they come from people who didn’t send them, photoshop, social engineering to get Instagram passwords, just generally being sneaky enough to get close and steal wallets during date night dinners, etc. etc.

Sasuke, who remembers too, and is incensed that MC would be on a date with someone who isn’t Lord Yukimura, definitely gets in on this too; at least once he plays the part of neglected love child with a particularly stubborn suitor.

Reunion

Eventually, REUNION. YAY.

All of Yukimura’s teammates are like o.o;;

Saizo’s sabotage habits die hard – if one of them goes to approach MC, they’re going to trip. You know. Accidentally.

MC definitely figures out what he’s been doing but can never ACTUALLY figure out how or the full extent

Yukimura definitely sobs when he sees Shingen next. He’s so sorry he didn’t remember sooner.

Shingen is like, nah, it’s all good, just because my face isn’t pretty enough to jog your noggin

“NO MILORD YOUR FACE IS BEAUTIFUL”

(The following is @han-pan’s fault <3)

(this of course happens full volume in the middle of filming a sports drink commercial that Takeda Corp is sponsoring)

(Advertisers are like “...well we were gonna go the guy-flirts-with-a-pretty-girl-route for this slot, but he isn’t very good at it and maybe this is why HEY SHINGEN you wanna be in this commercial too”)

(And he’s down for whatever so sure, hey Yukimura, remember how I used to try and teach you things like this--*click click* camera shutters)

(And that’s how the sports drink craze swept the nation because have you seen those billboards omggg)

(MC is just like, “wow you both look so muscle-y”)

(Saizo is like “...did you at least get free samples?”)

Future State

You know that like, no matter where Yukimura/MC live and no matter what the premium on space is, there is always, always a bedroom for Saizo (and by extension, Sasuke)

(Yes he and Sasuke have their own place too)

(But Saizo is a cat, okay. He comes, basks in their sunny little patch for awhile, and then is like ‘yeah okay you two are too saccharine, I’m out’ and he’s gone for a week or three.)

“Hey mom hey dad, why does uncle Saizo he get that room?” “It has the best roof access.” “…we live on the 14th floor of 23…?”

Eventually the kids don’t question it either

Unless it’s to summon him, because you know he just happens to show up any time they ask questions that Yukimura and MC would struggle to answer

Sasuke babysits all the time

Okay but also please imagine, years down the road, Yukimura being concerned that Saizo hasn’t given late-teenage Sasuke Enough Information about Things in Life, and he’s stuttering and blushing and stumbling trying to express this (and Saizo is like, little lord, you have four kids, shouldn’t you maybe not be embarrassed by this still) and meanwhile Sasuke pokes his head in like ‘yeah no don’t worry I read all of Sensei’s guides, I know what I’m doing’ and everyone is HORRIFIED (even Saizo. A little. But also a little proud, probably).

AND FOR @quincette

Echigo

Fashion mogul Kenshin is not a fan of Corporate Meetings they are full of fuddy-duddies and they are dreadfully dull

So he is staring out the window (OF COURSE)

And look they are putting up a new billboard

AND ~GASP~ WHAT IS THIS

IT IS HIS FLUFFY TIGER (and Yukimura, BUT)

And Ooooh he wants to pose in a pretty billboard photoshoot tooooo

Kanetsugu is like wait--what? No, no where are you going get back here WE ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF A MEETING

But of course everyone dutifully follows him out and Kanetsugu is out of luck

Kageie is like 100% willing to pose in this because why not

Yoshichi is SO EXCITED like YEAH let’s DO this photoshoot

Kagetsugu is trying to Not Draw Attention because he knows exactly how pretty he is, thanks, and doesn’t really like playing dress up, which invariably happens when you work for a clothing company and have his pretty face and features, thanks.

(MC is there catering, makes small talk with Kagetsugu and he gets all embarrassed and blushy when she just assumes he’s one of the models)

Hotaru is just wandering around the photoshoot, playing with things he finds, eventually ends up in the rafters playing with the umbrella lighting

He probably accidentally(?) releases the rain curtain in the middle of the shoot because he’s just playing with stuff

So now you have a lovely, rain-soaked Kagieie and Kenshin billboard advertisement for his clothes

(Kanetsugu wonders why it’s so effective - what about wet clothes is really so appealing? Has no one ever had wet socks around here?)

But, of course, it drives sales up like woah.

ANYWAY so begins the Great Billboard Wars of 2017

Also including behind the scenes video adverts, a few magazine spreads, etc & so forth

(Which ultimately culminates in a Shingen+Kenshin photoshoot that sends both of their company stock shares through the roof)

(Also causes a sharp and immediate uptick in hospitalizations due to fainting and blood loss across the country)

(Kanetsugu is just like *sigh* we are a clothing company, this was a clothing ad did you two forget the clothes?)

(It’s probably an underwear ad. Kenshin “Always figured you of more of a boxers man,” Shingen: “Well actually I usually just go com--” Kansuke: “Harunobu, no.”

I live for fluffy reincarnation AUs. Happy families. Happy families everywhere.

More of Lee’s rambles (or click the link in my profile description)

#slbp #slbp modern au #slbp modern headcanon #slbp headcanons #slbp kai #rambles

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