#but just. the second people hear me talk they read me as a woman and it makes me want to fucking scream

[silverislander]

i have a weird relationship w the way i look bc on the one hand luckily i don't have very bad dysphoria, i don't get it abt a lot of stuff and it's not smth that's constant either i'm very lucky that way. but also. i know that w my body and my face and my voice i am never going to look a way that makes other people perceive me as what i am and that feels. really bad. but also i don't deserve to feel bad abt that bc i have features that are conventionally attractive. but also i hate them

[sykostyles]

subject to change 1.0

wc: 6.4k summary: in which Y/N is a fairly inexperienced romance author, and Harry is a bookstore owner who happens to be a big fan. What happens when he offers her one night to experience some of the things she’s written about? part two

a/n: hi there! can you tell I'm ovulating? that is the only explanation I have for this one. big shouts to my mootite patootie @celestie0 for being a real girls girl and being my beta reader and personal hype woman! she read the whole thing and she doesn't even like Harry like that! Ellie is a real one. (check out her story kickoff rn!🔪)

cw: bdsm dynamics, impact play, breath play, spit play, cum play, anal, anal creampie, p in v, facefucking, mild shibari, bondage, use of sir, degradation, edging, spanking, choking, toy usage (vibrator, butt plug), overstimulation, there’s a lot okay reader be warned.

“Hey, Jenny!” Your voice echoed through the phone. Your publicist had a habit of calling when you were trying to get your daily rough drafting and editing done. Currently you’re staring at a manuscript of the follow up to your latest release, still unsure what to name it. 

“Y/N, I’m glad I caught you! I had something come up for you to start the press tour for your newest release!” Jenny, your publicist excitedly squeals through the phone. Her tone makes you peel the phone away from your ear for a split second. You glance over to your right to look at the book in question. “Little Freak” was your latest release. Another smutty romance novel full of things you’d never actually experienced; only dreamed about. You were experienced enough, but always craved more. But your books were a hit and people were snatching them up left and right.

“A press tour? I’ve never done anything like that.” You respond, balancing the phone between your cheek and shoulder, tapping away at your computer 

“I know, but it’s a signing! At this local shop downtown.” She explains, “The owner says they’d love to host in exchange for the publicity.”

“A signing?” you question. Never did you think a signing would be an event you’d have. ”People want to meet me?” 

“Oh yeah, girl. Loads of people.” She chuckles. “Do you know how many people have sent you fan mail saying you gave them a sexual awakening with your books? So many people want to meet you.” Her response makes you physically laugh. 

“Wow, I'm just writing about fantasies I have.” you chuckle, “But I’m so glad people are finding themselves.” 

“But about this signing!” She continues. “It’s booked for next weekend, but I’ll be going this weekend to meet with the owner and talk about the setup. You can be there if you want or you can just leave that to me.” She continues rambling about anything and everything pertaining to the signing. Ending the call she gives you the address and you tell her you’d meet her there on saturday. 

You loathed taking public transportation, and requesting a car for a short trip seemed pointless to you. So hoofing it, it was. Weaving your way through the city sidewalk, you’d located the shop rather easily. You were shocked you’d never heard of this place before. You’d been through here many times.

“Y/N, over here!” You hear Jenny yell from the corner of the store. It was really nice. Big floor to ceiling windows. Full mahogany bookshelves lining the walls and aisles. A giant seating area with plush chairs, couches and bean bags. A coffee and tea bar near the windows. String lights hang from the exposed rafters. The aroma of the store wafting scents of natural wood, patchouli and vanilla. There’s plants everywhere. The cash register tucked in the corner with a “Owners Picks” section right in front. Harry’s House in big yellow bubble letters on the wall. 

Your eyes just scan everywhere before they fall on Jenny, standing next to a man. A man with emerald eyes, dark chestnut curls, glasses pushed atop his head, and a smile plastered on his face.

“I can’t believe this place has been hiding here,” you state, walking towards her and the man. “Hi, I’m Y/N,” you’re holding your hand out to him. He eyes you before slipping his hand in yours and giving you a delicate shake. Your skin heats up at his touch.

“M’ Harry. S’nice to meet you,” he claims, “I haven’t opened yet. Your signing will be my grand opening.” He states, letting your hand go. What was that?

“That explains why I’ve never seen it before. It’s beautiful in here,” you gesture all around. “It’s so cozy.” Why do you want him to touch you again?

“That was the vision when I was planning everything. When I heard your team was looking for a place to host a signing, I knew it would be perfect for a grand opening as well.” Keep talking.

“You’ve heard of me?” you ask in disbelief with your eyebrow raised. He’s looking at you as if he’s ready to eat you alive. Please do.

“I’m quite a big fan, actually.” he chuckles, “I’ve read all of your releases so far. But, we can discuss that after. Jenny, do show us what your plan is.” He says, leading you both over to the seating area.

After your sit down meeting with Harry and Jenny, Jenny says she’s heading back to the office to send out the email to your team with the plan. Harry asked you if you’d stay to continue your conversation from earlier and go over more specifics, to which you happily obliged although you felt a tinge of nervousness once you were left alone with him.

You eye him as he prepares some tea for the both of you, getting a really good look this time. Glancing at the furrow in his eyebrows as he focuses on the task at hand. The fabric of his white dress shirt pulled taught across his shoulders as he moves around the space; the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The skin you can see is littered with black ink. The way the veins in his arms start to give you unholy thoughts about how they’d feel wrapped around your neck– 

“You’ll have to forgive my shortness earlier, I’m not used to men telling me they’re a fan of my work,” you chuckle, trying to steer your thoughts in a different direction.

“Ah, not to worry.​​​ It takes more than that to offend me,” he says, walking back to the couch you’re settled on; tea cups in hand. “But, indeed I am a huge fan,” he hands you one of the cups as he takes a seat on the other end of the couch. “I believe the first book of yours I read was Lingering Smoke,” he ponders for a moment, “Or no, it actually was Whipped & Chained,” his recall of your titles make you squirm.

“T-those are my two most popular titles,” you start to speak, praying he didn’t notice the way he made you stutter. He did. You clear your throat before continuing, “but my latest release is wiping the floor with both of those at this rate,” you say, regaining your composure. He offers you a smile. A salacious smile.

“I’m not surprised,” he says, eyeing the pink tinge on your cheeks, “I have read them all though,” he says, shifting his seating position on the couch to now fully face you, “they often give me,” his gaze boring into yours, “ideas,” he’s lifting his tea cup to his lips. You swear you feel a chill down your spine.

“Ideas?” you question, your eyes searching his. Are they darker?

“Ideas.” He affirms. “You should know though. You write about them.” He chuckles.

“I mean, I guess,” you shrug your shoulders, “I’m just writing fantasies I have,” you laugh, but he doesn’t.

“Fantasies? You mean you’ve never done those things? Felt those things?” He asks in disbelief.

You shake your head with a light laugh. “I seriously find that so hard to believe.”

“Please, my college boyfriend could never,” you chuckle, setting your tea cup on the coffee table. “I just drum up some ideas–as you so call them–and put it into a story. Nothing special.” He stares at you in disbelief again. 

“I jus–wow. I honestly expected you to be super well versed in those aspects. Pardon my assumption,” he says, holding his hands up.

“I mean, I guess it’s a pretty fair assumption, so no offense taken. Apparently I’ve given people sexual awakenings according to Jenny,” you laugh making him laugh this time. 

The awkward tension seems to dissipate with the shared laughter, but a different tension seems to linger. He seems so stone-like; like he only has one goal; and that goal is you. Truth be told, you’d happily oblige.

“Would you like to?” He asks, repositioning himself on the couch again, slightly closer to you.

“Like to?” you’re feigning ignorance. You know what he wants, but you're playing dumb.

“Experience those things.” He leans his arm over the back of the couch, taking in the obvious look of desire in your eyes.

“I mean, sure. Who wouldn’t?” You snort, looking over to him but he’s just staring at you. “Oh, you mean like, with you?” you ask slowly, still playing dumb.

He smiles that smile again, “Sure, why not?” He asks. “I’m game if you are.”

“Harry. Do you hear how crazy that sounds? We’ve known each other for half an hour.”

“So? We don’t have to see each other after. I don’t really do ‘feelings’ anyways.” he’s gesturing air quotes around feelings, his tone rather repulsed sounding. “This could be a one time thing. You get to experience some of the things you’ve written about, and I get my rocks off. A win/win situation if you ask me.” He says, gathering the tea cups and sauntering back over to the coffee station. 

“You sound so romantic, Harry,” you chuckle. Maybe this wouldn’t be a terrible idea. The last hookup you had was less than thrilling. And here you have a very attractive man offering exactly what you’ve been looking for. Regardless if it’s for one night, you’re willing to try.

“Interested?” He asks, leaning against the counter behind him.

“Sure. Why not,” You respond, mimicking his words back to him.

You make a mutual agreement to meet up and converse every day over the next week to discuss specifics, what each other's limits are—Harry all but told you he had none—and to remind you that this was all about you and what you wanted to experience. He gave you homework of coming up with what exactly you wanted. Your mind races as you think about what you’d want to experience first. There are so many options! 

He adored the look of mixed emotions on your face; the excitement, the apprehension. The enthusiasm in your voice but also the way you shied away when he asked you to list what you wanted, and how you wanted it. The way you sit on the couch in his bookstore with your legs crossed as you look down at the notebook in your lap. Ever the author; making a rough draft of these taboo acts you want this near stranger to do to you. Harry may not make it out of this alive if you keep looking at him with those eyes.

After your signing is when he’d bring your fantasies to life.

The spare key to his apartment was burning a hole in your hand as you made your way down the hall. You stood in front of the door a moment, contemplating one last time if this was what you wanted. He reminded you before you left the bookstore that there was no pressure. He would understand if he got home and you weren’t there. But you’re certain you want this. If nothing, you’ll get more fuel for your writing,

Once inside, you set his key on the counter before making your way to his bedroom so you could prepare for his arrival. Nerves are sneaking up on you but they’re overtaken by sheer excitement once you catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the wall on the opposite side of his bed. You begin to undress, watching yourself in the mirror as you pull your dress down your shoulders, revealing the dark red lingerie set you wore for the occasion.

The sound of his front door opening causes your breath to catch in your throat. Finding your spot near the bed, your hands find the tops of your thighs as you kneel on the floor in anticipation of his arrival; eyes cast down like he directed. His footsteps draw closer, causing the butterflies to stir awake inside your gut. The bedroom door opens, but you keep your gaze down. The tops of his shoes come into your vision. “Eyes up.”

Your head snaps up in response, eyes meeting his dark gaze. That salacious grin being the star of the show. “Hmm,” he starts, sliding his thumb across your cheek as he takes hold of your chin, “Already so obedient,” he clicks his tongue, “I like that.” The mild praise makes you grin.

His free hand slides down to fumble with his belt buckle, the sound of the metal clinking together sending shockwaves straight between your legs. You feel the leather being slung around your neck and he sinches the sides together, tightening around your throat. 

Your breath hitches.

“Open,” he says. Your tongue immediately lulled out as you open your mouth, aiming to please him. You groan as a warm stream of spit falls onto your tongue and two of his fingers press down to smear it around the surface. “So pretty like this.”

A whimper escapes you in response.

“Do you remember your safewords?” You nod. “And what are you supposed to do if you’re unable to speak?” Reaching up, you tap his thigh three times. “What about if your wrists are bound?” You snap your fingers before resting your hand against your thigh again. Gurgling sounds fall from your lips as his fingers run over the back of your tongue. “Good girl,” he pushes a little further, “That’s a good girl,” he says as his fingers make their way down your throat, brushing against your gag reflex, causing you to gag slightly. “Ooh, a little training is needed I see,” he mocks.

Your core is on fire and he’s barely touched you. A few dirty words and his fingers in your throat and you’re ready to roll over and bark like a dog, Nevermind the fact that his belt is around your neck like a leash. 

Whimpers leave you at his chastisement, making him grin. Spit rolls down your chin; your hands reach up instinctively to grip the front of his thighs. “No touching,” he reminds you, making you timidly retract them. “Do I need to restrict your hands already?” You try to shake your head in his hold to say no, causing the belt to tighten. 

That was one of the only rules he gave you. “No touching, no kissing, and you have to ask me permission to cum.”

Tears burn in the seams of your eyes as he continues his exploration of the inside of your mouth; fingers prodigy at your gag reflex again. You cough and gag but he presses on just a little further until he feels you instinctively pull your head back. Harry withdraws his fingers as he watches you cough and heave. “Don’t know how you’re gonna take my cock, sweets,” he mocks you again, “you’re already a crying mess from two fingers.”

His words make you audibly groan. You want more. You need more. “Need it, sir,” you smile up at him. 

“I know, pup,” he’s cradling your face. He taps your cheek with those same two fingers, telling you to open again. “You’ll get it,” he spits on your tongue once more, “Now, remember to breathe through your nose this time,” he says before he slides his fingers back in your mouth.

Your ankles are secured to the posts of his headboard; wrists hooked to the leather belt around your waist, and your head hangs over the edge of his bed. Harry’s hands roam your upper body, groping your breasts and pinching your perked nipples. His cock sliding in and out of your throat at an agonizingly slow speed; savoring the feeling of your tongue gliding along the underside of his shaft. “Fuck, sweets,” he groans. A hand sliding up to lightly grip the sides of your neck, “haah, feel that?” he asks, squeezing the sides where your throat bulges, “feel me deep in your throat?”

Drool pours from the sides of your lips; the wet squelching sounds of his cock gliding in and out of your throat is like music to his ears. “This what you wanted?” he asks, pulling himself from your mouth, tapping his length on your lips. You writhe before him, trying to catch your breath. He rubs the tip of his cock over the apple of your cheek, smearing the drool and precum across the surface. “Asked you a question, pet,” he says, giving an open-palmed smack to your right breast, making you yelp.

“Y-yes, sir,” you breathe out, “T-this is what I w-wanted.” You wish you could clench your thighs together to feel some kind of friction. His condescending tone has a rush of arousal pooling between your legs.

“Yeah?” he mocks, “Wanted your throat fucked like some cheap whore?” He slides back in your mouth. A whimper escapes your lips as he reaches the back of your throat. Steadying your breathing through your nose, you focused on the task at hand; keeping your tongue flat and your cheeks hollow. You’re squeezing your fists together, creating crescent shaped indents on your palms. It’s like you can already feel him everywhere. You can’t wait to actually feel him everywhere. “Just wanted me to have my way with you?” he slides one hand down between your legs and swipes two of his fingers through your folds, “Such a dirty girl. So wet for me already,” your hips involuntarily buck at the contact with your neglected core, making him chuckle before shoving your hips back down onto the bed.

“Hold it,” he demands as he stills his hips with the tip of his cock nestled in the back of your throat. Five. Ten. The seconds tick by as he tests your breath holding ability. Fifteen. Twenty. You flex your hands before clasping them back shut; Harry keeping a close eye on them lest you need to perform a safeword act. Twenty five. Thirty. “Good,” he commends as he pulls out and you struggle to catch your breath. “Very good, Pup,” he taps your cheek with his fingertips.

Harry maneuvers himself around the bed, grabbing the spool of rope on the floor before moving to settle on his knees between your legs. He frees your left ankle before taking hold of your hips and pulling you towards him, letting your head rest on the mattress. “How’re you feeling up there?” he asks, smoothing his hands up your legs, over your hips and tummy, stopping and rubbing slow circles. 

“G-good, s-sir” you stammer out, still breathing deeply; flexing your hands to get the feeling back in them. You feel his hands grip under your knee, lifting your leg into a bend; foot flat on the mattress.

“Yeah?” he smirks, “What’s your color?” He grabs the spool of rope to his right, beginning to wrap the rope around your bent leg in a frog tie; the back of your calf is flush with the back of your thigh, forcing your leg to remain bent and open.

“Green,” rushes out before you even think about what he asked, you just want more.

Harry smiles at your response, finishing up the last bit on the knots. He runs the tips of his fingers over the rope before lifting himself on his knees to lean over you. “Good,” he smirks. Leaning forward, he braces his weight on one hand near your head. “Well just look at you,” he mocks. Your mascara is running, the lipstick you wore is smeared, and half dried patches of spit and precum litter your skin.

His other hand reaches up to lightly grip the sides of your face, turning your head from side to side in his hold as he really studies his handiwork. “Seems I’ve turned you into a little throat slut, huh?” His degrading words send shockwaves to your cunt. “But, let's see what else your holes are capable of,” He says with a firm smack to your cheek, causing your head to jerk to the left and a masochistic smile to form on your lips.  Harry slides off the bed before appearing above you again, a blindfold in hand. 

Your vision has been taken from you as well as your mobility. He has you exactly where he wants you; pliant and ready for him.

Harry settles between your legs again; teasing touches linger up your legs towards where you want him most. You feel two fingers spread your lips apart. “Hmm, such a wet little pussy. Were you feeling neglected down here while I was fucking your face?” he teases. You whimper in response, making him grin. Ghosting his fingertips over your sensitive bundle of nerves, he slides two of his fingers between your folds before dipping them inside and curving them upwards. A strangled moan falls from your lips. “Let me hear you,” he’s scissoring his fingers in and out of you, “Let me hear how good I’m making you feel.”

“G-god, sir. S-so good,” you whimper. “N-need more, please,” your skin begins to heat up; a thin layer of sweat forming. Chills follow; goosebumps littering the surface

“Oh, I’ll give you more,” he chuckles at you, bringing his free hand down in a firm smack on your clit, making you jolt. Reaching to his left, he picks up a wand vibrator, sets it against your clit and turns it on the lowest setting; gradually turning it higher in tandem with his fingers. He’s working you up to the peak of the mountain, steadily keeping you on your toes.

“Please, please, please, can i cum, sir?”

“No,” he’s retracting his fingers and the wand as he watches you whine and writhe before him.

“Hnng, sir, please,” you beg him. “Put it back, please,” Tears begin brimming in your eyes at the loss of stimulation.

“Silence,” he slaps down on your clit again making you yelp. “You cum when I say you can,” his tone firm, “Do you not remember that part of our conversations?” his hand comes down on the bundle again. Warm tears start dampening the blindfold held against your face. You nod your head. Smack. Again. “Words,” he prompts.

“I-I r-remember, Sir,” your voice wobbly, “I’m s-sorry,”

“I’ll bet you are. Don’t worry though, I’ll make sure it sticks in your empty little head,” another smack follows.

He’s got you on your knees now, left leg still frog tied and the other reattached to the bedpost, your back in a full arch. Your hands are stretched above your head; wrists tied together with leftover rope. His hands are anchored to your hips as he drives his cock in and out of your cunt. “Sh-shit,” he grunts, “this pussy feels so good; sucking me in like there’s no tomorrow,” One of his hands glides down to tickle the bottom of your foot, causing you to jolt and squirm in his hold. He grins at your attempt to escape the sensations.

“Hnngh, sir,” you groan, turning your head against the sheets. “Feels. So. Fucking. Good,” each word sounding pointed with each thrust of his hips. Your body is addicted to the dopamine rush; still holding on to the feeling of every orgasm he ripped from you with the vibrator before he decided you were ready for his cock. But not before he nestled a dark red, heart shaped plug into your ass to prep for later. You feel so deliriously full with both holes being stretched. 

Harry reaches up, gathering your hair in one of his hands before tugging you up to be flush with his front, keeping up the pace of his hips.

“Know it does, pet,” he switches his hold, gripping the front of your throat with one hand as he slides the other one down between your legs to rub fast circles on your clit. “Can feel you clenching down on me like a damn vice,” His grip tightens on your throat, his fingers speed up as you turn into a crying mess from his touch..

“G-gna cum,” you stammer,  “P-please, let me cum, s-sir,” 

“Cum,” he stills his hips against your ass, but continues his ministrations against your clit causing you to convulse against him’ your abdomen contracting with each wave of pleasure.

“S’too much, sir” you cry out, “Please! Too much!” you wiggle in his grasp. He squeezes the sides of your throat a little tighter as a warning.

“You know what to say to get me to stop,” he reminds you, continuing to massage the abused bundle. 

You choke out a whine in response, your body trembling with red hot pleasure. He knew you didn’t want him to stop. You knew what words to use to get him to slow down.

“Dirty girl. You’ll take anything I give you, huh?” he chastises you, his words scratch an itch in your brain and send you into a second orgasm. He continues to pull delicious sounds from you; all the sounds he’s become obsessed with. Tossing you back down onto the bed, he braces himself on either side of your head as he begins to piston his hips into you, fucking you into the mattress and siphoning every ounce of your orgasm he can out of you. “Such a good little slut, creaming all over this cock.”

His hips begin to slow as you come down and he runs one of his hands down the expanse of your back, before pushing and pulling on the plug.

“Oh, f-fuck, sir. That feels s-so go–ood,” your voice muffled by the comforter. “W-want you in my ass, sir. Please,” you say, turning your face against the mattress so he could hear you.

“Yeah? Wanna feel me stretch that tiny ass open?” he starts to pull on the plug, your hips jerk in reaction.

“Mhm, need it.” you mewl. “Please, sir,”

“I’ll give it to you, pet, don’t worry,” he says as he slowly pulls himself out of you. Harry stands from the bed before pulling you towards him. Maneuvering you to lay on your side with your back and butt facing him as he stands behind you. He smooths one hand up your side, groping your breasts, sliding further along to grip your chin. “Open,” he commands, just like earlier. Opening your mouth, you invite two fingers inside. “Suck.” You happily oblige; wrapping your tongue around his appendages. His other hand reaches down between you to grasp the edges of the plug as he eases it out, toying with you in the process. 

You whine at the empty feeling, but you’re too focused on his fingers in your mouth to really care. Feeling his free hand swipe between your cheeks, he pushes a finger inside, eliciting a gasp from your lips. He takes the opportunity to push his fingers further into your mouth and add a second finger into your ass; slowly pumping the two fingers in and out of the tight ring of muscles. Groans fall from you at the strange intrusion; but you’re craving more.

“M-more,” you moan, voice strained from his fingers pressing on your tongue.

“Didn’t anyone teach you not to speak with your mouth full?” He sneers at you, retracting his fingers from your mouth before colliding his fingertips with your cheek.

You smile.

“S-sorry, sir. Feels s–so good. N-need more,” you’re pushing your hips back against the thrust of his fingers.

“Are you a little anal whore now too?” He chastises, but adds a third finger anyways, stretching you as best he can. 

“Mhm,” you whine. “Want your cock. Please, sir.” 

“Yeah, know you do,” he says as he withdraws his fingers slowly. He spits in his hand and wraps his fingers around the head of his cock, smearing the spit over the tip. He aligns himself with your tighter hole before beginning the tight press inside. “Just breathe,”

“Ngh, fuck,” you groan as he slowly inches inside. “Sh–shit,” your body tenses at the intrusion. It hurts so good. The stretch. The fill. Your head is spinning. More. More. More! 

“Mm, such a tight ass. Pulling me in so good,” he continues his shallow thrusts, easing his way inside until he’s fully sheathed. “T-there, we go.”

You’d never been comfortable enough to go beyond a plug in your ass with previous partners. Perhaps knowing you won’t see Harry after is what made you so feral for it this time around. You can’t describe the level of fullness you feel right now. His hands are gripped on your hip, thumbs digging into the supple flesh as he pulls you back to meet each thrust of his hips.

“S-sir,” you whisper out to him, your voice gone hoarse from screaming out in pleasure.

“What, pet?” he squeezes your hip, “you need something?”

“C-can you touch m-me, please?”

“This still isn’t enough for you? Such a greedy girl,” he brings his hand firmly down on your ass. Bringing his hand back, he lifts your leg from behind, tucking two fingers into your cunt; curling them to prod at that spot. 

“Oh, f–uck y-es, right– right there, sir,” your sobs of pleasure are going straight to his cock. “Pl-please, please don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he says with a smug grin etched onto his lips. “You want more?”

“Y-yes, please! Please, sir, more!” You aren’t sure what more he could give you but you’ll take whatever it is. You feel his fingers leave your cunt and his hips come to a halt against your ass. The sound of the wand vibrator coming to life fills your ears. He presses it against your sensitive clit, then tucks the end of the wand under the rope around your leg; keeping it firmly in place. You cry at the sensation. His fingers enter your pussy again, eliciting an animalistic like moan from your throat. “Oh–hngh–oh my god, sir, holy fuck.”

“That’s it,” he smacks down on your hip with his free hand, “Such a dirty little whore, just wants all of her holes filled like the girls she writes about in her dirty books.”

Your whimpers fill the air along with the sounds of sticky, squelching flesh and Harry’s grunts. You’ve never felt so full and empty at the same time in your life. The only thing you’re able to focus on is how good he’s making you feel. He’s kept true to his word; this was all about you and what you wanted. Every fantasy you told him over the week you met up with him at his book store, he brought to life. All of your senses are on fire, but all you can think about is how badly you want to cum.

“Sir, g’na cum! Please let me cum!” you scream. His fingers continue their assault on your g-spot, as he reaches down with his free hand to switch the vibrator to its highest setting before taking a firm grip on your throat and squeezing; sending you over the peak.

“Cum for me,” he demands, pulling the most intense orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life from you. A wet feeling forms between your legs and you hear Harry groan behind you. “Ohh, there’s a good girl. C’mon and keep squirting all over me, sweets,” his praises go straight between your legs as more moans and pleas escape from your throat. His fingers work overtime in your pussy; pulling every ounce of your arousal from you. The incessant buzzing of the wand on your clit puts stars in your vision and the feeling of his cock pounding in and out of your ass is the cherry on top. A second wave rushes over your senses, your body convulsing against Harry’s. “There she is,” he coos, “such a good, dirty girl.”

Harry eases his fingers from your core, and switches the wand off before untangling it from the rope and tosses it to the side. He grips your hip again with both hands as he pistons himself in and out of you, finally chasing his own orgasm. “Sh–shit, pet. Gonna cum. Where do you want it?” he pants out, digging his thumbs into the plush of your ass cheek.

“Pl–please cum in my ass, sir. Want it so bad,” you whine out, “Need it, please sir!”

“Calm down, gonna give you what you want, sweets.” His hips begin to stutter, grunts and groans fall from his lips along with cries of your name. He pushes in as far as he can as he empties himself into you–”Fuck, just like that, pet. S-so good”–before retracting his hips and pressing in again; fucking his release back into you. 

“So, was that everything you wanted?” Harry asked as he unties the knots that were keeping your leg bent. You’re lying flat on the mattress, a warm washcloth in your hand as you wipe your face.

“Mhm, and then some,” you smile at him.

“Yeah? Happy to be of service,” he chuckles, beginning to help stretch and massage the muscles in your leg. You wince at the feeling of his fingers kneading the more tender areas. His calloused hands rub and dig the knots left behind. “I’ll take that,” he says, holding his hand out for the washcloth. He rubs it over your sensitive areas, not pressing too hard; really taking his time cleaning up his mess. “I’m going to run you a bath, and make you something to eat,” he stands from the bed, tossing the washcloth into the hamper before disappearing into the bathroom. 

Your thoughts begin to take you hostage as he fiddles around in the bathroom. You’d just let basically a total stranger do unspeakable acts to you, and now you’re about to take a bath in his tub. He’s being sweet to you now, making sure you’re comfortable. But that doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t want to see you after today. 

Upon his return, he catches himself smiling at your naked form laying across his bed. Clearing his throat, he strides over to you and extends his hand. “Upsie daisy, sweets,” he chuckles at the pained look on your face after you take his hand and stand at full height. “How do those legs feel?” he teases.

“Shut up,” you stick your tongue out at him, “I just went through a lot,” you laugh with him.

“Indeed you did,” he smiles sweetly at you. A completely different kind of smile than he’d ever given you before. When he looked at you at the bookstore, it was like a hunter eyeing his prey. Now he’s looking at you as if you’re the reason the sun rises and sets every day. You’re trying really hard not to think too hard into it. 

“He’s just being nice after figuratively beating the shit out of me,” you think to yourself. 

“Are you going to get in with me?” you ask once you reach the edge of the tub. Your big doe eyes looking up at him so sweetly as the words leave your lips. He’d never done something like that before. He doesn’t do the sweet stuff. But with the way you’re looking at him now, how could he say no?

“D-do you want me to?” he asks quietly. 

You nod softly in response, “If I only get one night with you, I’d like to make the most of it,” you turn to step into the tub.

Harry’s heart pangs in his chest. He nods slowly and swallows the lump in his throat. Leaning forward, you allow him enough room to slip in behind you before you lean back against his chest. His arms warily make their way around your body as he pulls you back as close to him as possible. 

“Did you enjoy yourself?” leaves you before you can even think about it.

“You’re asking if I had a good time making you bend and break at my will? Yeah I think I did,” he says, making you laugh. 

“Hey, I just wanted to make sure,” you say tilting your head to the side to look up at him. “I had a great time by the way.” you chuckle before turning back around.

“I’m glad. You did a great job,” He picks up the fresh washcloth he’s gotten for you, and dunks it in the water. “May I?” he asks, gesturing towards you.

“Sure,” you whisper, your cheeks turning a soft pink at the praise. He rubs the washcloth over the expanse of your chest and tummy; up your arms and down your legs, really taking his time helping you feel relaxed. “Thank you, Harry. For today.” you feel yourself lean into his hold.

“My pleasure, Y/N," he smiles against your temple.

“You sure you have everything?” Harry asks as he helps you put your jacket on, pulling your hair from underneath for you.

“I had everything the last three times you asked,” you giggle at him, the sound is like music to his ears. He’d do anything to hear it for just a little bit longer. He said he could do just one night. He swore he could. But why does the thought of you walking out his door make him feel like his chest is going to cave in?

“Just want to be sure,” He smiles that soft smile at you again, making your cheeks heat up. 

How dare he.

“Please, stop looking at me like that,” you whisper, unable to hide your discomfort anymore.

“How am I looking at you?” his voice quiet and sad.

“L-Like you actually care about me.” tears collect in your waterline, “You said so yourself, this was a one time thing. So, please, just stop looking at me like that. It’s very confusing.” The words poured out of you before you could stop them. He just stares at you with sad eyes. “T-Thank you again, Harry. I really appreciate your help.” You say, your voice shaking as you avoid eye contact. He’s studying your face; The hurt etched across your features. The same hurt he felt in his chest, but refused to show. “Good luck with your store,” you say as you pull the door shut behind you, leaving him in the silence of his empty apartment.

c/n: oh my what a ride, right? this is not the last of our brooding pair. you'll see the ending of their story soon!

please like &/or reblog if you enjoyed!

[ty-bayonet-betteridge]

two of the transfems youre friends with have been talking to you about the clinic they got their bottom surgery done at. apparently its dirt cheap, and the surgeon - despite some oddities and, your friends admit, poor hygiene - is incredibly talented. theyre more than happy to give you her phone number when you ask, and while it sounds simultaneously incredibly sketchy and way too good to be true, at this point youre just so broke, desperate, and tired of gatekeepers that you're willing to give it a shot.

you call on a thursday afternoon, and the call is picked up on the fourth ring, when youre just gearing up to hear an answering machine. the voice on the other end sounds like a middle-aged woman with a smoking habit trying to sound like a cheery, bubbly young girl, and mostly succeeding. hiiiii! what can i do for you? she asks. you say er im looking for a surgical clinic is this the right number? she says mhm! thats me. you say okay, i just have a few questions. she says shoot. you say do you take patients who arent referred to you? she says nobody refers patients to me so yes. then she giggles. youve never heard somebody pull off a giggle in real life. you ask okay, so ive been looking for a place to get my metoidoplasty done, can you do that here? she says i dont know what that is give me like five seconds. then the line goes silent. you can hear her typing on a mechanical keyboard and humming to herself as she reads. youre now convinced that this is not in any way a legitimate medical institution.

youre about to hang up when she comes back on the line. OH you need a dick she says. sure i can do that! does tuesday afternoon work for you? i have that morning free too but i HATE getting up in the mornings so id rather not schedule it if i have to. you say tuesday afternoon is fine, how long should i expect the visit to be? she says i dont know like seven hours? you say seven hours? she says yeah give or take a few, every person is different so i dont know what itll be like until ive got your cunt opened up. honestly probably best to take the whole day off just in case it turns out to be a tough operation. you dont respond to that immediately. she says oh shoot should i not use the word cunt, is that too gendered? sorry. you say no its fine. you say i thought i was just going in for a consult? she says i mean yeah if youd rather. i dont mind doing same-day but some people like having more time to think about their options. do you have somewhere to be tuesday night or something? you say no its just... no tuesday afternoon should be fine. she says okay great!

she gives you her address. she says knock three times so i know its you and not my parole officer. parole officer you ask? she says im being good i promise but i still hate talking to him hes boring. you say if you dont mind me asking what were you imprisoned for? she says the ones i plead guilty to at the trial were a hundred and ninety-two counts of first-degree murder with a parahuman ability, two hundred and fifty-six counts of physical and emotional torture with a parahuman ability, five hundred and six counts of intentional infliction of emotional distress with a parahuman ability, four hundred ninety-eight counts of aggravated assault and battery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty five counts of domestic terrorism with a parahuman ability and two hundred and twelve counts without, three counts of arson, two hundred forty two counts of burglary with a parahuman ability, three hundred eight four counts of robbery with a parahuman ability, four hundred twenty seven counts of abduction with a parahuman ability, a hundred eighty six counts of human trafficking with a parahuman ability, three hundred ninety counts of destruction of public property with a parahuman ability, eighty counts of possession of a controlled substance, more than three thousand conspiracy and complicity charges in various felonies, eighteen violations of the Geneva Conventions, and the unauthorized practice of medicine. i plead not guilty to the larceny, sexual assault, contempt of court, corporate espionage, and identity theft charges and the prosecutor didnt really try to fight it since i had already earned seventy life sentences from the other stuff so im technically innocent of those.

you dont say anything to that.

after three seconds of silence she says sooooooooo i'll see you tuesday? you say tuesday, yeah. what was your name again? Riley, she says. Riley Grace Davis. you say thanks again and then hang up.

you debate constantly during the intervening days whether you should go on tuesday. youre grateful your friend group is so slutty; it means youve already seen with your own eyes that this surgery is real and not just a lure to murder you. still, you have some reservations, which you think is perfectly understandable.

you call one of your friends whos been there already. she picks up and you say if this is a joke its only sort of funny. she says if whats a joke? you say the clinic. you say you DID give me the actual number to the place where you actually had your bottom surgery done right? she says yeah, dont worry the surgeons so sweet. you say she admitted to doing two hundred murders when she was on the phone. she says i dont know anything about that but i trust her. you say if i end up dead, kidnapped, or mutilated, its your fault. she says dont worry about it.

tuesday comes. you never agreed to an exact time so you show up as early as you can and still have it be "afternoon" in your mind - 12:30. you climb the rusted fire escape to the third floor door and knock three times. the door is answered by a woman six feet tall in casual but very nice clothes with frizzy brown hair and an expression you cant read. you say er, riley? she says nope. another girl pushes past her, exasperated. she's maybe five foot two and her wavy blonde hair is worn down, with a red bow in it. she's wearing torn jeans - naturally torn, not the sort that you buy with holes in them that youve always hated but the kind that were once normal jeans and now have worn through much of the fabric on the knees. her tshirt is faded and has stains that you cant quite place on it, but youre pretty sure it was once Eidolon merchandise.

she says damnit amy let me answer the door next time. the taller woman, amy apparently, shrugs and steps aside to let you in riley claps her hands together once youre inside and the door is shut. introductions! she shouts. amy, this is, er... I never actually got your name? you tell them your name. she says right! hes one of my clients. and this is Amy, my sister. dont worry about her, shes just a little awkward. amy says can you PLEASE not introduce me as your sister. riley says make me. then she grabs amys shirt and pulls her down, standing on her tiptoes at the same time. they kiss in a very un-sisterly way. you clear your throat politely.

riley breaks away and says right, yeah, sorry! i get distracted easy. youre here to get a dick right. you splutter a bit, both at the bluntness of the question and the fact that amy is still standing right there. riley follows your gaze. she says oh dont worry about her! sorry, i wouldve run her off earlier, i thought you wouldnt come by for another few hours. you say sorry. she says dont worry, its her fault. amy says you didnt tell me you had a client. riley says you didnt ASK. you clear your throat politely again. you say er yes, i did come in for metoidoplasty. she bites her lip and furrows her brow. she says metoido... oh right. well i dont really do that here but i can give you a dick. you say uh im not really interested in phalloplasty. she says whats phalloplasty? amy says its the construction of a penis, usually via tissue flap taken from another part of the body, often followed by the insertion of prosthetics to allow the constructed penis to achieve erection. riley says oh, huh. yeah i dont do that either. i can give you a dick though. she takes a second then puts on an exaggerated scowl. who would want that she asks? amy says lots of people prefer it to metoido for aesthetic reasons or because they dont think theyll be large enough for penetrative sex with metoido. riley says but it wouldnt feel like a dick! man, some surgeons are talentless hacks.

you clear your throat again. you say so if youre- riley says youre clearing your throat a lot, are you okay? you say im fine, its just- she says oh duh were being so rude! why are we all standing around here. come sit down in the living room, do you want anything to drink? she leads you into the living room. it has the unmistakable air of a room thats been cleaned recently, with vacuuming marks present in the carpet and the unmistakable scent of air freshener. the sofa that you're gestured to sit on is, by contrast, unbelievably filthy. stains of every sort are visible on it - some of them are obvious, like the patches of blood and vomit or the ring of a coffee mug. others take you a second to place, like the crusty streak along one cushion that you realize all at once is semen, or the sticky yellow parts that you hope to god are honey. some of them, like the muddy green handprint along one arm of the sofa or the deep black smudge along a seat, are completely foreign to you. you can smell it from several feet away.

amy notices your hesitancy. she says i keep telling her to throw that thing out. riley says and i keep telling HER that its a relic from earth bet! its an antique and itll be worth millions soon. it just needs a good deep cleaning. amy says what that sofa needs is a bullet, not a deep clean. you sit down. drink? riley asks. you say er what do you have? she says water, diet coke, vodka, coffee. no more beer though, SOMEBODY drank the last one. amy says you never said they were off limits! riley says they arent, im just teasing. you say waters fine. riley says aaaaaaaaaamyyyyyyy, could you pleeeeeeaaaaaaaase go get our guest a glass of water and me a diet coke? oh and can you grab the pill bottle on the second shelf of the spice cabinet. amy says sure, i'll be right back.

riley sits down next to you. she says sooooooo what do you want for your dick? you say sorry, if youre not doing phallo or metoido then what exactly are you offering? she says no offense but it would take like literally eight years to give you enough background info for you to understand my explanation, and i dont have that kind of time. im not getting any younger. except for when i am. she laughs louder than you thought a human could. you have no idea how to describe the sound of her laughter. she says just tell me about your dream dick and ill give it to you. trust me, im a doctor.

except that youre not, amy says, returning with glasses and pills in hand. she sets the water down in front of you and you immediately take large gulps, feeling very much lost right now. riley says am TOO, accepting the pill bottle and diet coke from amy. she frowns. why is it can diet coke, she asks? she says glass bottle is so much better. she says why did i even BUY can. amy says they are literally the same liquid, what do you mean its better. riley says theyre not the same, stop deluding yourself. amy says which of us is the REAL doctor? riley says both of us! the PRT finally issued me an equivalency. youre talking to doctor riley davis, MED. amy says oh really? congrats she says. riley beams. then she unscrews the lid of the unlabeled, dark brown glass bottle, grabs three pills, and pops them into her mouth.

what is that you ask. ectasy she says. you want some? you say no thanks. she says you sure? you say i probably shouldnt take drugs before an operation, what if it interacts with the anesthetic? riley says dont worry, i made my own anesthetic that has zero drug-drug interactions. amy says except with sudafed. riley says ok YEAH except with sudafed, how was i supposed to know? she glances at you. you dont take sudafed do you she asks. you say no. she says good. it was such a bitch cleaning the pus off the ceiling she says. you say huh? she says dont worry about it, you dont take sudafed. she says are you sure you dont want any ecstasy? i promise its pure. you say i dont want to get addicted. she says i can surgically remove the addiction pathway from your brain if that would help. amy says riley, no means no. riley says fine. do you want any ecstasy babe? she says no thanks. riley frowns. she says you guys are a bunch of squares. she pops a fourth one and starts chugging diet coke.

she slams the can down after drinking what must be half of it, wipes her mouth with her arm and grins. sorry, we keep getting distracted! she says. she says im getting into the start of a manic episode and that always makes me roll right over people in conversation. what do you want for your dick? you say um. i hadnt really thought about it. its not normally a choice beyond the type of surgery, you sort of just end up with whatever the doctors are able to make work? thats lame she says. why are normal doctors all so lame she says. ok, rude amy says. OBVIOUSLY im not talking about you babe riley says. and stop distracting me from my client! amy holds up her hands in mock surrender, an easy smile on her face.

you didnt bring a toy with you did you, riley asks. you say huh. she says sometimes people bring a toy that they want me to model it after and that makes everything a lot easier. you say no you didn't. you say i hadn't really thought about my preferences, can we go dealer's choice on this? amy pipes up. she says you REALLY dont want riley to go dealers choice. riley says shut up and get me another diet coke, i just finished this one. amy says yes princess. you honestly cant read whether it was meant to be mocking or endearing. riley turns back to you. ok, she says, lets start with basics. primate? canid? equine? suine? dolphin? i could give you a hyena pseudopenis but i dont know if that would be offensive. you say human is fine. she says please dont tell me you're gonna just be boring this whole time. you say define boring. she sighs deeply and starts massaging her temples. amy, having stepped into the room in time to hear the last bit of conversation, tousles rileys hair. she says sorry babe, customer's always right.

you work out the appearance of your soon-to-exist cock this way. riley asks questions about length, girth, hair, amount of semen generated, percentage growth when erect, and you try to give what you think are average answers every time. amy watches, bemused, the whole time. halfway through she leaves to get the bottle of vodka. she drinks five shots in fifteen minutes. you say i didnt think the human body had that much capacity for alcohol resistance. she says it doesnt. riley swats playfully at her arm.

eventually, riley grabs a set of crayons and a cocktail napkin. she says ok, i think we got it, scribbling furiously. she shows you a crayon drawing of a dick. this look good she asks? you squint at it. there are no measurements given and the medium does not allow you to make out any fine detail. you say yeah thats fine. amy tries and fails to hide a smile. riley chucks the napkin aside and rubs her hands together. boring parts done! she says. time to get messy she says. amy pours a sixth shot of vodka. she says dont forget the anesthetic first. riley rolls her eyes. she says OBVIOUSLY i didnt forget the anesthetic. she says ill be right back. as soon as she leaves the room, amy knocks back her shot. she turns to you. she says you mind if i stay and watch? she says i dont want to make you uncomfortable, but i like watching her work. shes cute when shes working. you say at this point youre not sure you would mind anything at all. you say at this point you dont think you would be fazed if she came back with a fully-formed dick wriggling around in her hand like a fish and sewed it onto me. she says dont tempt fate.

riley comes back with a black bag the size of her head, which she sets on the coffee table with a thunk. she points at you and says okay, clothes off. or pants off i guess. you can leave the shirt on. or take it off. i dont care. you take it off. she tells you to lie down and starts pulling things out of the bag. amy stands up from the sofa to give you the space to stretch out and sits on the coffee table instead, one leg pulled up to her chest with her chin resting on her knee.

riley pulls out a syringe from the bag, filled with pitch-black fluid. she says okay this will hurt for a second but only for a second. you say huh? she flips you over onto your belly and jabs the needle against your lower back, into your spinal column. it hurts like a bitch for all of two seconds and then you stop feeling anything at all in your lower body. you also cant move your legs, you realize. what just happened you ask, as she flips you onto your back again. she says i just killed all the cells in the nerves in your lower spine. she says its the easiest way to make sure none of the pain signals slip through, and she'll just replace them with living ones when she's done. you don't know how to respond to that.

she pulls more things out of the bag. a cartoonish array of different cutting implements come out. most of them are various sizes of medical scalpel, ring cutter, or saw, but you also see a pair of chunky pink safety scissors, a pizza cutter, a serrated bread knife, an x-acto, a drill with a comically long bit, a pair of wire cutters, gardening shears, and an awl. she says okay im gonna start operating so look away if you dont wanna see how your crotch looks while its being rearranged. especially if you think you might puke, i hate having to stop to clean up puke in the middle of surgery. you look away. you notice amy is watching transfixed.

for a couple of hours things go on like that. amy and riley make light conversation, with riley filling any silence by humming a wordless tune you dont know. the sounds and smells youre getting are enough to make you slightly sick; you continue not looking.

in the middle of hour two, riley stops. oh goddamnit, she says. what amy asks? riley says she forgot that shed need extra meat. amy says you started a surgery to give somebody a whole new organ and forgot youd need more tissue to do it? riley says shut up, im dumb. amy says no youre not babe. riley says ughhhhh now what. amy says just get his stem cells to grow the tissue you need. riley says nooooooo thatll take forever, and i have places to BE tomorrow, and if i stop putting pressure on him here hes going to bleed out through his cunt. you say wait, what? amy says well i dont know what you want me to do about this situation, i gave you my solution. riley says baaaaaaaaaaabe. amy says whaaaaaaaaaaaat. riley says i think we have some bacon in the fridge, will you pretty please with sprinkles on top go get it? amy says and what do i get in return? riley says a kiss. amy says id get that anyway. riley says my undying love and affection. amy says i have that already. riley says not making me angry at you so you can sleep under my roof without having to worry that ill turn your sweat glands into acid glands in the middle of the night. amy says that, plus i get to top tonight. riley says fiiiiiiiiine, just go get the bacon. amy gets up.

you say look uh i know you said not to question what youre doing but i kind of dont want a dick made of bacon, not to sound ungrateful. also did you say something about me bleeding out? riley says dont worry, if you bleed out ill put the blood back in, im a professional. you say thats not as reassuring as she thinks it is. riley says whos the doctor, mister? you say technically both of us. i have a phd in social sciences you say. she says wow, theyre just giving out doctorates for anything these days, huh? you say hey, rude. she says only teasing. you say anyway, uh, you didnt address the bacon dick thing? she says oh dont worry about it, my amys amazing, youll see.

amy comes back in with the package of bacon. do you need this in any particular shape she asks. riley says nah just give me a good amount of it. and make sure its spongy, so when he gets hard the blood can- amy cuts her off. she says dont worry, ive given you enough penises at this point that i think i know what penile tissue is like at this point. you say given her enough penises? what the hell does that mean? riley says hey, dont kinkshame! she sounds legitimately offended. you say sorry. amy pulls the bacon out of the package, holding it aloft in her left hand. you watch as the familiar look of a half-pound of bacon shifts and warps into a strange lump of fatty, spongy tissue of a waxy color. she hands it to riley. riley says thanks sis youre the best, love you! amy says no problem. riley says id kiss you if i wasnt elbow deep in this guys cunt right now. amy says kiss me after the surgerys done.

another two hours go by. the sounds of flesh being chopped, sawed, and stitched underscore riley and amys meaningless conversation about whether they HAVE to attend their acquaintance lisa's birthday party. riley says lisa probably wouldn't throw a birthday party if there wasn't some sort of scheme going on. amy agrees but says that doesnt indicate whether they should get involved with the scheme or not. you wonder dimly if you will ever feel your lower body again. you wonder if this is purgatory, an endless afternoon of lesbians bickering affectionately while one of them does surgery on you. you turn your head enough to look at the clock. its 5:26pm. where the fuck did the time go?

another hour passes. riley stands up. she is soaked up to her elbow in various bodily fluids - mostly blood, but youre not looking too closely. she says finally! she says just need to regrow your nerve cells now. you say is that going to take long? she says like twenty minutes maybe as she flips you over. you say ok. she jams a different needle into the same spot, injecting a strange yellow paste into your spine. she then flips you onto your back again. you feel brave enough to finally look at your crotch.

there is a completely normal human penis of average size there. you reach a hand down and touch it. you dont have any sensation in it yet since your nerves are all still dead, but it feels warm and soft under your hands. you smile, feeling tears come to your eyes. its over.

rileys talking. she says i followed your specifications except i had to cheat a bit on the nerves, you actually didnt have very many in your clit for whatever reason so your glans has maybe eight thousand fewer nerves than you wanted, sorry about that. she says i gave you balls in your scrotum for shape but since you said you didnt want kids they dont produce sperm. let me know if you want that changed she says. she says it should be fully functional in every respect, but if you notice any erectile dysfunction, incontinence, discoloration in urine or semen, priapism, or any other issue come back and we'll sort it out. if you notice it bleeding in ANY capacity, call me immediately. if im not answering call Amy, ill give you her number. if SHES not answering either then you can start seeing normal doctors, not that those idiots will know how to help you probably. if you want any changes to it call me and ill pencil you in to get it adjusted. get all that she asks. you nod. she says cool. she says itll be like $200, no rush if youre not able to pay right now. you say it might be a bit since youre still trying to pay interest on your student loan debt. wait, she says, they have student loans again? you nod. she says the world ended like thirty years ago, when did they set up student loans again? fuck, how much do you owe? you say a little under eighty thousand. she says jesus fuck, nevermind, its free. goddamn. you say thank you so much. she says yeah of course. do you want us to dress you or do you want to wait until you can move and do it yourself?

[zyafics]

play fake | part six

series play fake — ( masterlist )

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.

content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole

zya's notes thank you so much for your sweet notes in my inboxes!! also, please read the important note at the end 🩷

𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚

Rafe's mind is spinning.

He didn't have a plan when he barged into your house. It was short-sighted and willed by his temper. All he knew was the hot, pulsating jealousy raging inside of him and he couldn't do anything to contain it. He knows you're nothing more than a fake title created to impress his father. He knows he can have any other woman in the world. He knows you two aren't real. But, for some reason, despite the lack of formal commitment, he wants you—your sharp mouth, your kind heart, your ability to tease and challenge him in one breath—all to himself.

The idea of sharing you with someone else—a Pogue, nonetheless—irritates and angers him. Because it means that a Pogue can beat him. Is better than him. More suited for your time and trust than him.

And deep down, he knows it's true.

Since you fucked Maybank, there's nothing he could do to change that. Instead, he needs to prove to you, someway, somehow, that he was better.

You said nothing when he wrapped his hand around your throat, your eyes slightly widened and your lips part. His gaze traces the outline of your features, trying to read every minuscule detail to figure out what you're thinking.

"Speak." He demands, his jaw clenching down, his desperation boiling over. Your words are mute. "Fucking talk."

You can't. You're preoccupied with the presence of Rafe Cameron in your home, just a few feet away from your sisters from discovering him, from seeing him here, that it renders you without a response.

"I—" You stutter, your soft eyes meeting Rafe's hard ones. "You're not supposed to be here."

Those weren't the words he wanted to hear.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

You lay a hand on his wrist, not necessarily pulling him off, but in preparation to. You don't answer his question, anxiously looking to the back door. You squint through the tinted screen to see if your siblings are still running around the yard, no signs of them returning to the house soon.

This move—you looking away from Rafe—twists something ugly inside of him. Rafe interprets your glance as another way to look for them, the Pogues; the people who are better than him. His hand slides from your throat to cup your chin, forcing your sight back on him.

"Who the fuck are you looking for?" He snaps, his gaze darkening with each second, pupils dilating, the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. "Maybank? Are you looking for your other boyfriend?"

You didn't bother acknowledging what he's saying. He's always saying shit. You place a hand on his chest, ready to push him out of the front door but he refuses to budge. "You really can't be here, Rafe, I'm so serious—"

"Or what?"

He hears nothing but the sound of his own blood. He can't do this. He can't stand that you're choosing Heyward and Maybank over him. That they're more important than him. That they get to stay but he has to leave.

He wants to be here too.

You inhale a shaky breath, worry edging around your heart at the idea of one of your sisters walking in. You can't afford that.

"Where's your room?" He demands, his words are sharp and filled with authority. His tolerance slipping. You don't answer him immediately and his grip on your chin tightens. "Either you tell me or I'm going to fuck you right here and I don't fucking care who sees."

His threat is real. Your panic spikes.

Having no other choice, you pull yourself out of his grip—something you know he allowed—and grabs his arm, navigating him deeper into your house. Something about it rubs you wrong; the way he's getting to see more intimate details of your home, where you grew up, where you've been surviving for the past twenty-two years. It's getting access to something you've shielded from most people.

Stepping into the small master bedroom, you close the door behind you, disregarding any attempts to lock it. It's broken.

You turn back to Rafe with a gentle gaze; you don't know where to start this conversation.

"I—"

You don't need to. The next thing you know, his lips are on you and he's kissing you, the blunt force of his sudden action slams you against the back of your door with a loud creak. His hand travels to cup the underside of your jaw, guiding him closer.

It takes you by surprise but you find yourself reciprocating him, the familiar slant of his mouth pressing against yours slowly dissolving any panic, calming your turbulent mind to one focus.

But his touch isn't anywhere soft or gentle. It was rough and demanding, punishment easing its way through his will and onto you.

Rafe breaks the kiss to descend down your open neck and you tilt your head to give him more access, a delicate sigh leaving you. His hand finds itself under your baggy tee and cups your breast. "You think Maybank can make you feel this way?" He whispers against your warm skin, his fingers lightly grazing your nipples in a way that makes you arch into him. "That he can fuck you better?"

When you don't answer him, your mind too muddled to correct him, he pulls back. His eyes are hard. "Do you?"

His insecurities are getting to him. Your lack of response is getting to him. Now knowing that JJ Maybank—a no-named Pogue from the rough side of The Cut that has nothing—could be a potential suitor for you, it opens up the idea that you can be taken away. From him. From this.

He hates it. He hates you.

"Rafe." You start gently, trying to calm him down. It does the opposite. It's only pissing him off more how you can't give him a direct yes-or-no. "I didn't—"

He pushes himself off of you. Taking a step back, his cold eyes scans your clothed figure.

"Take it off." He commands lowly. "Fucking take your clothes off."

You can hear the fury in his voice, how tense and dark it is. You don't try to argue as your fingers toy with the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your shoulders. Your shorts and panties soon follow and you're left with nothing but complete bareness for him.

Your body is insane and his erection hardens in his pants at the sight of you. Standing before him; obedient and naked. He can't help but come to the conclusion that it's only for him to see, for him to touch and please.

And he has to share that?

Fuck, no.

He just has to remind you of that.

Rafe steps forward and captures your lips once more, his large frame covers you with warmth. Now, without your clothes, his hands travel all over—playing with your tits, pulling at your hips, spreading apart your thighs against the door. His mouth leaves yours, sucking on your neck and leaving marks on the curve.

He rolls your nipple between his rough fingers. "These are mine," he declares, tugging them in a manner that makes you arch into him, a mewl leaving your lips. Your mind growing dizzy. His hand lowers to cup your pussy. "This is mine too. I thought we went over this, sweetheart."

You shudder at his touch. "We did."

"Then why the fuck are you letting Maybank touch what's mine?" He growls, his fingers grazing against your slit, teasing you with slow strokes. You arch into his hand, only for him to hold you firm by your hips. "Not so fast."

"Rafe, please," you whisper, your pleading eyes finding his. "I'm aching."

His jaw tightens, conflicted between two things. He wanted to torture you further, slow and agonizing, but he can't help but take in the look on your face that's begging him to fuck you, against this door, hard and fast.

He had to look away, back to your cunt, spreading apart your folds. "Fuck, you're wet," he groans, your arousal collecting on his fingers. You throb at his feather-light touches. "Tell me it's all because of me."

His mouth captures a sensitive spot on your neck, just behind your ear, that you can't help but do anything to what he says. "It's all because of you," you confirm, which grants Rafe to add more pressure on your clit. "Just you, Rafe."

He loves hearing his own name coming from your lips. With satisfaction, his fingers finally plunge into your pussy and he begins to pump. You gasp at the intrusion.

His fingers curl inside of you. "I bet that Pogue doesn't make you feel this fucking good." He asserts.

"Never." You shake your head vigorously, tipping your head back against the doorframe as Rafe works in-and-out of you. The sound of your pussy squelching echoes through the small room. "Oh, fuck, right there. That feels so good."

He adds a third finger. "Oh, god."

"You're so fucking tight," he whispers into your ear, watching your face twist in ecstasy as he stretches you out. "Can't even fit it all the way in."

Pleasure and pain rides together as you mutter no audible words and feel the familiar knot tightening in your lower belly, rising in crescendo.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" He taunts, feeling the way you clench around him, challenging him to pump you further. You nod fervently, moaning with containment. "Right here against this door?"

"Yes, yes."

He pulls his fingers out.

"Get on the bed." He orders, watching with sick amusement at the way your face twists in frustration from the emptiness of his touch. He's proud to make you feel this way. "On all fours. Now."

You want to argue, but you're aching all over. The orgasm on the reachable horizon slowly fading away with each passing moment, that you end up obeying him. With a huff, you go to your unmade bed and settle on the mattress with your knees and palms.

Rafe smiles cruelly, taking in the mental image of you waiting for him. He quickly strips out of his clothes, his cock red and swollen, dripping with precum from the strain. But, when he steps up behind you, he doesn't immediately enter you. No, he wants to make you beg for it.

His fingers trace your wet entrance and you flinch at how sensitive it is. "Aw, my poor baby," he mocks, his voice lacking any sincerity, "do you want to come? Do you want me in you?"

It's so degrading how much you're willing to submit. To reach your release. But, nonetheless, you nod with abandon, every second passing is another unbearable heat between your legs.

"Use your words, sweetheart or I'm not fucking you," Rafe declares sharply, his ringed finger brushing against your clit and running light, broad circles. "I know you know how to use that mouth."

It's too much.

"Rafe, please," you beg, "please come inside me."

Your words make him impossibly more hard, that he couldn't take it any longer. He lines himself behind you, before slamming his cock into your pussy.

The pleasure hits you instantaneously, that you had to bite your bottom lip to contain the loud moan threatening to make itself known. You can't have that. Your sisters are just right outside your wall.

His rhythm is sharp and quick, his movement uncontrolled. "See what happens when you listen?" He grunts, the feeling of you wrapped around him is so fucking perfect. "When you do what you're told?"

"Yes, yes," you mewl, your arms giving out and you sink into your pillows from the force Rafe is pounding you from behind. "I'll be good, I swear."

Rafe anchors himself in a way that allows him to hit your g-spot with precision. You moan louder this time, forgetting your desperate attempts of keeping your voice down. "Oh god, just like that," you encourage, as he feels your walls flutter around him for the second time. "I'm ab–about to come."

He pulls out again.

This time, frustration and anger rolls over you. You're aching terribly bad, the knot in your stomach is growing uncomfortable from the lack of release.

Rafe says nothing as he grabs your waist, hauling you upright as his strong arms wrap around your front. You let out an irritated whine, your peak fading once again.

"What the fuck?" You cry out, on the brink of tears, as your spine rests on Rafe's chest and you feel his hard erection pressing against the small of your back. You know he had to be aching too. "Why'd you pull out?"

He chuckles darkly. "Want me that badly?"

"I want your dick."

He doesn't answer you, his free hand lowering. You can't see it, but the smirk of his face is full of self-satisfaction and pride.

"You can't punish me." You declare, remembering his words earlier. You wonder if this is part of it; leaving you on the edge for so long, you're going to explode. "I didn't do anything wrong."

Rafe begins to run tight circles around your clit, your swollen nub causing you to jolt into his touch by surprise. His speed quickens, drawing you back to your climax.

"Does this feel like punishment to you?" He whispers while you're writhing before him. Your head tipping back on his shoulders while your body is weakening from the strain of past attempts. "Do you want to come?"

You nod your head eagerly, one of your hands enclosing his to make sure he doesn't leave you empty again. "Yes, please."

"Who's fucking you?"

"You."

"Who makes you feel this good?"

"You." You whimper, your orgasm is so close.

"Say my fucking name."

"Rafe." You let out a moan, his cooled ring brushes against your slit and makes your sensitivity heightens. Your hand tightens its grip around his. He chuckles at the sight of your desperation. "God, please, keep doing that. Please don't stop."

Rafe's starting to know your body. Know when you're about to come. He wants you to remember. Fuck the names—the whole idea—of any other men from your head. Only his.

His fingers quickens as he lays sloppy kisses against your open neck. Your hips bucks, your thighs shaking, and your breathing shuddering. The little moans you're letting go, more contained than anything he's heard before, is a mere challenge to his ears. He wants you to be loud. He wants them to hear.

"Come on, baby," he whispers tenderly. "Come for me."

You come on his hand, slumping back against his broad chest as you catch your breath. Rafe doesn't allow you to gather yourself, flipping your position as he lays against the mattress.

Your heart is slowly calming. You blink at him through the haze of your post-orgasm.

"Ride me." He instructs, leaning back against your headboard.

Your breath hitch as he gestures to you to come forward, which your body auto-pilots and follows. You anchor yourself over his cock, lining the hard length at your entrance as you slowly sink into him, hissing from the sensitivity of your recent release.

You're taking your sweet time to get adjusted and, with thin patience and him needing his own orgasm, Rafe grabs your hips and draws you down completely, causing him to fill you to the hilt.

"Fuck," you whine, your eyes teary from the sensation of your overstimulation. You look up to him, wanting to get off, but his hands stay on your hips. "I don't know if I can..."

A hand leaves your side to cup your chin. "You want to make me feel good, don't you, sweetheart?" He taunts. "Isn't that fair?"

You let out a shaky breath before you begin to rock your hips against him, finding a speed where you can control. Rafe groans at the way your body rolls, the way your walls grip him, that he leans back against the headboard.

Your pleasure builds once again, eyes fluttering close, taking in everything. Every spot his cock is hitting, every pressure point he meets, every buzzing feeling in your body. It's all because of him.

One of your hands rubs your clit while the other plays with your pierced nipples. Rafe watches with intent as you chase your own pleasure.

"I love seeing you play with your tits," he groans, because truly, something about you playing with the little metal barbell between your fingers, twisting and pulling, drives him fucking wild.

"Yeah?" You challenge, leaning over. He raises himself, taking a nipple in his mouth as your hands are splayed across his chest to steady yourself. The sensation of his warm mouth sucking and your angle at which you grind against him—you feel yourself rising to your climax again while his cock twitches inside of you.

His arm locks you in an embrace as he comes. His cum spills inside as you straighten yourself back up, rubbing your clit once more, bouncing up and down on his dick as you allow him to ride out his high while you chase yours. His hands lazily slides to your thighs, gripping them as you go faster and harder, your wetness dripping over his abdomen and you tip your head back with an uninhibited moan.

"Fuck." You cry, knowing that that was one of the best orgasms you had, and with how loud you were, embarrassment follows. Rafe sees the look on your face and smirks, knowing he made you break one of your rules.

You slump on his broad shoulder, catching your breath as his hand rests against the small of your back, his fingers caressing your arched spine. You haven't lifted off of him; his cock still warm and softening inside of you.

Worn out, you manage to pull yourself off of him and fall back against the hard mattress. It's nothing like the one you laid on at Rafe's bedroom. With a harsh breathing pattern, you watch the ceiling, waiting to return back to normal.

Rafe follows a similar method, refusing to look at you afterwards, that you twist your head to look at his profile.

You can tell he's in deep thoughts. It pulls you back to when he came into your house, when he stepped into your sanction with this look—this anger. It was nothing like it was before, like it was with his father. This was something completely different.

"I didn't fuck JJ." You whisper in confession, hoping it would ease something out of him, and watching as Rafe finally turns to you with a look of surprise.

"You didn't?" He hates how elated his voice sounds. He tries to suppress the emotion with the blanking of his features, to appear detached, but you caught on.

"No." You smile softly. "He's like a little brother to me. I can never imagine myself doing that."

Rafe's chest lightens. Tremendously. He didn't realize how heavy it felt until you said that. But, his doubt still remains.

"Why was he in your house, then?"

"I was patching him up," you say with a sigh, pulling yourself into a sitting position. Rafe had the urge to grab your wrist and pull you back down. To be here with him a moment longer. "His... something happened. Got into a fight. I was just helping him."

His jaw ticks, "he could've gone to the hospital."

"Do you forget we're poor?" You turn back to Rafe with a defeated laugh. He looks so big in your bed, so out of place, like he doesn't belong. That this world could never be something of his. "Insurance is expensive. The hospital takes forever. I'd rather take care of them without them spending hundreds on normal injuries."

Rafe says nothing as he watches you. Trying to understand you. He's coming up mostly blank.

But, he realizes one thing.

You do that. You help people when they don't deserve it. You even helped him after a fight when he was being a complete asshole to you at Topper's party. Your instinct is so friendly, so giving and undeserving, he doesn't know what to do with this.

It elevates the sentiment that, perhaps, his father was right.

"That doesn't explain why I couldn't be here."

This one, you hesitate to answer. You look away, to the bedroom door where the lock doesn't work and knowing, if your sisters decided to barge into your room right now—there's absolutely nothing you can do to stop it. Fear pricks your chest again.

"Hey." He places a hand on your back. He couldn't beg you to respond. That's pathetic. "Answer me."

"I..." You let out a reluctant sigh. "I didn't want my sisters to see you."

This surprises him. "You have sisters?"

You nod, not supplementing more information. You already revealed too much.

His brows furrowed together. "What do you mean? I'm good with kids."

You chuckle, attempting to lighten the mood. "Yeah, probably with making them, but you can't meet my sisters."

"Why not? Are they scary?"

"No, they're like eight and twelve."

"Then what's the fucking problem?"

"I..." You mess with your hands, trying to rid yourself of this discomfort. You hate telling people about yourself. "I don't bring guys home to meet my sisters. Not unless it's serious."

Not unless it's real.

You think it's all the bedtime stories you read to them. Of princesses and princes, of fairytale endings, and they have this fantastical expectation of love that only happens in books. They want you to find that same love, to be happy, and they get so attached whenever you bring someone new home. Like it could replace the hole in their hearts with your missing parents. So, you try not to get their hopes up.

Because you know. Whatever is going on with Rafe is not your storybook ending. It can't be. You're nothing more than a fake girlfriend, someone he fucks whenever it's convenient, someone he doesn't even consider a friend. Even if you're starting to feel something more, to see him beyond his privileged, over-pretentious self, you agreed to those terms. You're going to stick with it.

Rafe doesn't say anything in return.

The back door squeaks open and your eyes widen as you hear your name being called from the hallway, footsteps approaching your bedroom.

"Don't come in!" You shout to whoever is behind the broken door, their steps pull to a halt.

"Why?" JJ asks. You can see from the corner of your peripheral, the way Rafe's jaw tightens at the sound of the Pogue's voice.

"I'm... I'm naked."

He chuckles with amusement. "I'm sure I can take a peak," he teases, testing the door as it creaks from the disengagement.

Rafe sits up, ready to fight the Pogue, but you lay a flat hand on his chest.

"If you open that door, JJ, I'm going to kill you."

He laughs. The door falls back into place, the deadbolt sliding into the latch, before announcing. "Alright, whatever. I'm just telling you that I'm heading out with Pope so your sisters are going to be alone out here."

"Thank you." You say, your heart is still racing. "I'll be out in a minute."

JJ bids a farewell as his footsteps retreat, and you turn back to Rafe. His expression is unreadable, his thoughts elsewhere.

"They know your sisters?"

You can't decipher the tone in his voice.

"We grew up together, of course they know." You answer, hearing the familiar roar of JJ's bike engine leaving your driveway. You turn back to Rafe. "You gotta go."

He doesn't move when you get up from your mattress, putting your clothes back on.

"What if I want to meet your sisters?"

The inquiry, so genuine, stops you in your tracks. "For what?" You question, tilting your head to the side.

He shrugs.

"I..." You don't know what to say. How the earnest attempt brings a feeling of warmth and buzz to your stomach. "This has nothing to do with our arrangement."

Rafe sucks in his cheeks, swallowing hard, before nodding. "Right."

He gets off the bed and redresses himself silently. Nothing else to be said. He doesn't bother to turn to you to bid a farewell before he goes. Just as he's about to open the bedroom door, you stop him.

"Go through the window."

"What?" His brows pull together. Irritation flares in his expression. "No."

"Either you do that or you have to wait till my sisters are off to bed."

"So what if they fucking see me?" He snaps, making another move towards the door. He didn't understand why it bothers him so much that you're hiding him from your family. He doesn’t care if he breaks one of your stupid rules. You grab his arm before he makes another break.

"No, I'm serious, Rafe." Your voice is firm. "This is one of those things you can't just decide on your own. You have two choices. Pick one."

He's frustrated. He's a bit pissed. He's angry with himself. He can't complain about you wanting to set boundaries with him, with this relationship, because it makes sense. Because, if it was anyone else, it would've been perfect for him.

He shouldn't want to meet your sisters. He shouldn't feel this unburden urge to impress them. To make them like him more. He shouldn't care about you—beyond what you can offer with your end of the bargain—but he fucking does. And he can't fucking stand it.

All he knows right now is he can't bear to be in the same room with you right now. He needs to be alone. With others. People who don't give a shit about him the way you do. Smoke. Drink. Attend one of those parties someone on the island is hosting.

So, he leaves. Through the fucking window, like a teenager again, trying not to get caught by the parents. When he treks to his car, his phone is already in his hands and he was dialing up one of his buddies, asking where the next rager is.

—

You arrived at Sailor earlier than opening time to make up for your absence yesterday. It’s at the same time Heyward opens his shop, that you manage to meet him on the docks as you're unlocking the bar.

He calls you out by name.

"Hey, Mr. Heyward," you greet with a smile, turning to him. "What's up?"

"Hey." He stops just a couple of feet away from you. His expression flits with trouble. "I just... I wanted to tell you that Aaron stopped by here yesterday."

Your heart stops.

"And, I don't know if you know, kid, but messing around with someone like him is—" You cut him off.

"I know." You say gently, adrenaline pulsing through your veins at this reveal of information but you can't let him know that. You plaster on a look of normalcy, trying to calm him down from his worry. The man has known you and your family forever and he can almost be seen as a second father figure to you, but the way he over-extends himself to make sure you are fine makes you uncomfortable. "It's... it's probably nothing."

"Y'know, Luke Maybank got caught up with Aaron once and—"

"I know." You say again, this time, a bit firmer. This get Heyward to back off on you. "Don't worry. I got it handled. Thank you for telling me."

He's watching you, full of concern and wonderment about what's going on with you. You're just a kid, with too much on your shoulders, taken on too many responsibilities at a young age. He's afraid something is going to happen.

"Be careful." He warns, knowing that's all he can offer with what you're giving him. You nod appreciatively, just as he departs back to his shop.

You watch as his figure disappears into his store, and when he's gone, you release a heavy breath. God, Aaron was here? And you weren't? This drives panic in your system, because you know the man doesn't bother you physically unless a deadline is approaching.

You were afraid. You were getting stressed. You have to plan your next steps.

But, you couldn't think of that right now. All you can do is twist the key in the lock and enter the bar, starting your day. 

— part seven here —

hello! my taglist is getting a bit long and exhaustive, so i've shifted into a notification blog! i'm probably going to tag for a few more parts, but otherwise, please follow @zyafics-library + turn on notifications if you would like to follow my stories! taglists: @quicksilversg1rl / @uraesthete / @maybankslover / @trshngyn / @irides-solstice / @kur0obaby / @groovycass / @emmalandry / @rivaiken / @outlawedmando / @ditzyzombiesblog / @mattyskies / @sunshinepanic / @too-deviant / @rafesgiirl / @lafavoritaangel / @bunniii-98 / @vvvhack / @babygoddam / @cami-is-reading / @peachesmilk / @whore4fictionalman / @artemiswinnick / @janediazwindsor / @pandora-rosier1 / @solanathascientst / @itshellie / @grace-sully / @loveyouok / @tayrcse / @mysteris-things / @ella131989 / @starrkissezz / @sanriobuny / @chopshopcheesecake / @fentyxmalik / @fleets-world / @supernaturalwriter / @taylorsmissamericanna / @hehelollmao / @lac0nically / @elysiasshit / @kravitzwhore / @tommysaxes / @ma-yangg / @carolinaxvz / @bandsbooks / @sourjoonie / @rafemotherfuckingcameron

[jarofstyles]

Illicit

Hello my loves! Welcome to the first part of our next mini series we've been working on behind the scenes. The next 2 parts are available immediately on Patreon now, but will be updated here in the next few weeks!

Patreon

Warnings- cheating ( WITH y/n), Asshole Harry, I hate everyone but her, old money/wealth, toxic relationship dynamic, harry is mean and will be mean but not to Y/N lmao, smut

WC- 2.4k

------------

Harry had just finished cleaning himself of cum as his phone rang. 

It was his girlfriend. ‘Girlfriend’, really, because this wasn’t a real relationship. Not in his mind, anyways. 

“What?” His voice was a sharp whip, already annoyed that the post orgasm bliss had been interrupted by Katherine. Y/N was sitting next to him, her leg thrown over his thigh as fingers traced over his chest, absentminded circles pausing when she heard his attitude already. Her brow raised as he lifted the phone to show the name on the screen, making her nod, lips turning down. That irritated him further. 

“When are you coming to get me?” A voice that pierced his ears made him close his eyes, a dull throb beginning to coast down his head. “Daddy said you’re coming to the event and you were going to pick me up!” 

She was huffing like a child, not wanting to wait. Realistically, he would leave in 30 minutes. Y/N would stay curled up in his bed and wait for him to come home before he took her away to one of his family cabin’s with the rest of their friend group- the ones who knew of him and Y/N. He would spend the entire night trying to think of an excuse to get back to her early, and hoping Katherine wouldn’t throw a fit about not being able to come on this ‘business trip’.  

“You live with your father. Could you have not shared a ride?” His tone was icy, something Y/N had never been the recipient of. Thank god, really. As sexy as it was to hear him talk like that to other people, it would definitely make her cry. The man was intense, even he knew that, but not everyone seemed to catch on. 

“Hazza! Come on.” She whined. “He already left and stopped by the office. I’m getting ready now but we have to be early for the photos!” As if that was going to help her cause. It was like the girl had a handbook on how to say the wrong things. 

Harry didn’t do those stupid step and repeats. While Katherine loved being the center of attention, it wasn’t something Harry desired. In actuality, he detested it. He hated paparazzi and had broken 2 cameras from having them in his face without a second glance. No aggression, the picture of calm with pure ice on his face as he did so. If they valued their possessions, they shouldn’t be shoving them in people’s way. That’s what he thought, at least. 

“I’ll be there in an hour. I’m not doing those photos. I don’t care what you do. Now stop calling me when I'm in the middle of things. You know if I don’t answer once, wait for further instruction.” He paused. “And stop calling me that childish nickname. I don’t find it cute or endearing, it’s embarrassing. Goodbye.”

There was a sharp squeak as he hung up the phone and threw it to the ground, rolling Y/N around onto her back and sliding his still sticky cock back inside of her yet again. His annoyance was clear on his face, but it quickly melted away as her arms wrapped around him and her lips covered his face with soft coos, legs pulling him in deeper. Maybe she was a bit sore, maybe his last load was still dripping out of her messy hole, but she knew exactly how the man needed to express himself. 

“I know.” Her silky voice wrapped around his tension and broke it down, slow thrusts inside of her quelling the bubbling irritation in his stomach and turning it into arousal. Y/N could read his stone cold features, knew what his eye twitch meant, the simple movement of a brow or the tiniest down or upturn of lip. This magnificent woman seemed to have him all figured out, and he felt like shit for having to leave and be seen with another woman. “I know, baby. Only a few more months.” Fingers stroked his hair back, guiding his lips to her own.

 He kissed her back, eyes squeezing shut as he allowed himself to lose the anger that had developed by focusing on her. The heat of her cunt wrapped up tight around him, snug. Fitting him perfectly, just as it always had. Y/N was the one he had wanted to take to these things, but he had to wait. For once, his patience wasn’t being practiced. 

The best thing in his life had to be hidden from most people, all because he had taken a stupid deal. He had to go out with the girl who thought she was going to be the next Mrs.Styles, while all he wanted to do was stay nestled in his luxury sheets with Y/N’s soft, supple body to worship. 

It was all his fault, though. 

He had always been ambitious. Ruthless, some may say, but he knew that to a degree he could be cruel to get what he wanted. That was how had been raised. His father had put that right into his head, doing anything for success, power, money… that’s how he ended up in this situation. 

In order to secure the deal of a lifetime, he had agreed to date the man’s daughter. Maybe that sounded cruel, but he knew the intentions from the get go. The man was using his conventionally pretty, high society daughter to try and sweeten the deal- but he knew the true motivation. An attempt to get him into the family and continue having control of the company through his daughter’s supposed relationship with him. If only he had been smarter, if he had done more research. He would know he was sending a sacrificial lamb right into Harry’s awaiting lion jaws. 

See, she had been no stranger to him. Katherine had been after him for quite a while. They were acquainted to a certain degree, running in similar circles and society dinners. The crush, more so the obsession she had with Harry had been no secret to anyone. She claimed to have been in love with him, but Harry knew what it truly was. A lust for money. An infatuation with the power he could secure her. She loved what Harry could represent for her, not only to secure place in the society she had been thrown into as she grew up- but to elevate it. She knew the score, knew what Harry’s ring could mean. 

Katherine knew nothing of his true personality, his likes, his dislikes, his jokes. All of those things were reserved for the tiniest selection of people that she only knew of in passing. His real friends barely touched that superficial, vapid, bitter world. Katherine’s family was new money, looking to secure their place in society. Harry’s wealth went in decades, and it would most likely stay that way. Her vying for his attention didn’t shock him in the slightest. 

The condition of dating Katherine for at least a year had been one he had wanted to scoff at, one he had wanted to tell Mr. Eugene Brant that it would be obvious what it was, but he was smart enough to bite his tongue and agree. Playing stupid was a superpower, letting him think he got one over on Harry and vastly overestimating his daughter’s appeal. One year of being toted around with her overly big smile and his signature scowl on his face hadn’t been an issue. It was something he would merely go through the motions of until the exact year was up and she would be out of his life. 

At least, it hadn’t been until he met Y/N. 

The first woman who had ever captured his heart and soul. Softened the edges of his razor sharp glare.

She hadn’t wanted to give him the time of day once she realized he had been flirting whilst not single. She hadn’t known the deceptive relationship and it hadn’t been her fault, but that didn’t mean Harry was going to leave well enough alone. Even after she had dumped her  Shirley temple on his brand new pure cotton button up. 

If anything, it made him want her more. 

One thing about Harry? He was going to get what he wanted. He would bet anything on it. He was patient, stubborn, and fixated. Checking guest lists to see if she’d be in attendance to parties, see if she was going to hang out with his friend group, he was on the prowl to get her to talk again. 

She had blocked his number already- he didn’t really have a chance to explain. He understood why, but that didn’t mean he was going to give up. 

When he finally did have the shot to tell her the relationship was a hoax, she was still doubtful. Dubious looks sent his way as he had pulled them into a private room of the club they were at- one his father owned, funnily enough- his hand holding hers as he sat beside her to plead his case. He was strong and defiant, insisting that it was a means to an end and there was no clause saying he couldn’t date other people- but he would like to get to know her on a real level. 

Against her better judgment, Y/N had fallen for the soft green eyes, the soft looking lips with the sharp cupid's bow and his even sharper tongue. Giving him one date was all he needed to get her on board. 

Fidelity wasn’t a term in the contract he had signed. Stupid, stupid mistake on Brant’s part. A new money, no lawyer to look over, a hasty mistake that would most definitely come to bite him in the ass. Harry hadn’t honored fidelity in the slightest even before he met Y/N. Sex was an outlet for him, as was the gym, things that were pleasurable and stress relieving. He’d only slept with Katherine a handful of times, tapering that off when he saw it made her get more and more attached. She had obviously known Harry had a reputation and while the sex had been alright, there hadn’t been much to his benefit besides the fact that she swallowed his load. 

Surprisingly, it wasn’t that hard to find willing participants. 

Sex with Y/N had completely rocked his world. He thinks, in part, it was because they had a real connection. She made him wait, she made him work his way up to that if he wanted- and made him stop sex with anyone else. As if he had any interest in anyone else. Y/N had taken up the majority of his brain that wasn’t filled with revenue and contracts and contacts and emails. She was his escape. 

The first time they had sex, Harry had fallen for her. There was no question in his mind. Despite being positive that he wouldn’t ever marry for love, Y/N had him questioning that. She had flipped his entire world view upside down, made him weak in the knees. 

Y/N wasn’t in the public eye. Her family had some elite ties, but she was friends with a lot of the quietly wealthy people who didn’t feel the need to showcase it to everyone who looked with tacky labels and monograms. She’d gotten into one of the best schools, gotten her degree and continued her friendship with her roommates and best friends- who just happened to be the girlfriends of some of his best mates. The real ones. There were only a few single members of the groups, and Y/N had been the new blood that had people wondering. Harry had been interested immediately. 

It was about 4 months into their relationship and everything still felt fantastic. Y/N knew more about Harry than anyone else ever could. She was the one with the key to the future, even if she didn’t know the exact depths his feelings went to. 

“I don’t want to go.” His lips parted from hers. “I want to stay here… want to stay buried inside of you, want to feed you your chocolate and lick it from your tongue.” Inhaling his words, she moaned as his hips rolled and he found his home back at her most sensitive spot. He had spent hours finding it, claiming it, and he knew it was his. “Spent all week working… I just want my sweet Angel.”

Noses brushed against one another, Y/N’s bleary eyes opening up to look at his own. Hazy, dark green, hooded. She gently dragged her nails over his shoulder blades, arching up into him and pressed a bit harder on the skin to make him moan in surprise. “You have me, Harry.” She whispered. “You have me now. Leave with my traces on your cock… then come back and take more. We leave tomorrow… and you can hold me how you like. Kiss me. Our friends don’t care. They’ll keep our secret.” Even if it was forbidden, their tight knit group knew exactly what the relationship between Harry and Katherine really was- and none really liked her. They knew Y/N made him happy, softened him up, they’d all been rooting for this. Their safe space. The only ones who knew. 

“She won’t ever have me.” He reassured. “I’m yours. I want your marks on me.” Breathing harder, his thrusts getting a bit more deep. “Make me bleed. C’mon, my sweet girl. Paid for those nails… give me what I want.” Her cunt quivered around his prick, making him smile. She pretended not to like that sort of thing, but she got them done specifically for this. To quench his thirst for pain, for marks. They loved it. “She’ll never have me like this. I’m yours.” He whimpered, the freak of the bed and their noises filling the room. “M’yours, baby. My sweet Angel… stay in my bed and wait for me. I’ll give you everything. Just wait for me.” 

She would. She would wait for him, to be his fully, as long as it took.

[cozage]

Congratulations on hitting 2k🎉🎉

I really love your writing and I’d love to see how you think the op boys would react to their s/o getting jealous you could maybe do ace law and luffy?

Characters: gn reader x Ace, Law, Luffy Cw: Put your rose-colored glasses on, folks. Because we got some red flags (cough cough Law)  Total word count: 1.6k

Jealous Reader

Ace

Ace is just being fun. He’s just too oblivious to realize the other people are flirting. He doesn’t notice the soft touches across his torso, or how they lean in closer to him every time they laugh. But you do. 

“You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said halfway through the night. “We can go, if you want.”

“Wouldn’t want to take you away from your fan club,” you spat back, venom in your words. But he either didn’t notice or he pretended not to.

“Yeah, they’re funny aren’t they?” He laughed. “They all buy me drinks whenever I tell a new story. Hospitality here is amazing!”

“Right.” You got up to leave. “Have fun with that.”

“What?” his brows furled together in confusion. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the ship.” And with that, you slammed the door closed. 

A few seconds later, he’s racing after you into the crowded street.

This man has no idea what he did wrong, but he’s trying to make it right. 

He abandons everyone in that bar without even a goodbye, and as his fingers lace through yours, you can’t help but feel a little better about that. 

He kisses your cheek and follows you closely, not wanting you to get away from him. He knows you all need to talk, but he also knows this crowded street isn’t the place to do it. 

When you all get back to your room, you try to break away from him, but he pulls you into an embrace, strong warm arms wrapping around you. 

“You’re the only one I have eyes for, you know that right?” he said, rubbing your back lightly. 

“Didn’t feel like it tonight,” you mumbled harshly. 

“Well you are.” He tilted your face up so he could cover it with kisses. “I just use those people to get free drinks.”

“I know,” you whispered, leaving your head against his chest to hear his heartbeat. “Doesn’t make it any easier to watch though.”

“Okay.” Ace kissed the top of your head. “Won’t do it anymore.”

You looked up at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Of course!” He kissed your lips now, gently reminding you that he was all yours. “Your feelings aren’t worth some free booze.”

Law

Of course this woman was some fancy doctor. Of course Law had read her book. All her books. And now he had been gone from your all’s table for almost thirty minutes to talk to her. 

She wasn’t just polite. She was friendly. Overly friendly. You had watched as she had scooted closer and closer to your boyfriend, minimizing the gap between their bodies. 

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore. You got up from your seat and ignored the snickering of Shachi and Penguin from the table. 

“Law, dear.” You gave a strained smile to him and the woman. “I hate to rush you, but we’re kind of on a schedule.”

Law stood, still staring at the woman. “Wow! The time really flew by. Thanks for letting me pick your brain.”

“Oh doctor,” the woman cooed, a seductive smile on her face. “The pleasure was all mine. Feel free to find me any time you want to have a…chat”

“Thanks for being patient,” Law said as the two of you walked away. “It’s not often I-”

“Let’s go,” you said to the others as you walked past the table, not pausing for a moment. “The captain made us late.”

You don’t use “Captain” often. And based on your tone, Law had to guess he was in trouble. 

The snickers from Shachi and Penguin weren’t helping either. They had surely watched you become more and more irritated as time went on, so they had a pretty good idea of what was going on,  

“Can you give me some pointers? Any warnings?” Law mumbled to his crewmates, desperate to get a read on your emotions. 

“You don’t know what you did?” Penguin asked as Shachi burst into laughter, causing all three of them to receive a glaring look from you

When you got back to the Polar Tang, you made a beeline for your bedroom. Law didn’t follow. He assumed you needed a bit to cool off. Plus he wanted to check out another book from the woman he had just met. 

After a few hours, Law rubbed his drooping eyes, and finally decided to see you again. He still had no idea why you were so upset. 

You were asleep in the bed, but you had built a pillow divider between his side in yours. He rolled his eyes and quickly pulled the pillows away, curling into you. 

You tried to push him away, proving you weren’t asleep, but he wouldn’t let you. 

“Can you tell me why you have such an attitude?”He was irritated, and you laughed at the irony. You were the one who was supposed to be irritated, not him. 

“Why don’t you go ask that famous doctor since you care about her more than-”

He scoffed, cutting you off. “You can’t be serious.”

You stared at him for a long moment, and then turned away from him, pouting at his words. 

“I’ve read her books, that’s all. Can you stop acting like a child with this petty jealousy?”

His words tipped you over the edge. “I’ll stop acting like a child when you treat me like an equal!” you yelled. You rose to your feet and quickly strode out the door, slamming it behind you. 

Oh, he really fucked up now. His tongue was always getting him in trouble.

He scoured the Polar Tang, searching for you. He finally found you on the couch and curled up next to you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “That was really insensitive of me to say. If the situation were reversed, I would be upset too. I’ll do better in the future, okay?”

You gave him a slight nod, and he quickly shambled you both back to the bed to get some much-needed sleep. 

Luffy

“Oh, Hancock is coming, right?!” Luffy asked. “I like her!”

“And we all know how she feels about you,” you mumbled under your breath. Your comment sparked laughter from Nami, causing Luffy’s attention to drift over to you. 

“What’s funny?” He asked. “I want to be in on the joke!”

“Nothing,” you grumbled. You could see Boa Hancock’s ship in the ocean, and your stomach churned with dread. “Sanji, do you need any help in the kitchen?”

Working with Sanji had been a bad idea. Boa Hancock was beautiful. And while you could hear her fawning over your boyfriend on the deck, Sanji fawned over her in the kitchen 

It was only thirty minutes before you gave up and retreated to your room. You were in a bad mood, but this was a celebration, and you didn’t want to ruin it. 

Luffy entered the kitchen looking for two things: Meat and you. “Sanji! Y/N-hey, where are they?”

Sanji shrugged. “Said they weren’t feeling well. Not sure.”

Luffy headed to your all’s room. Now that he thought about it, you had been off. You hadn’t been chatty or smiled most of the day, and he was starting to get worried you were really sick. 

As you heard the turn of the doorknob, you quickly wiped away your stray tears. But your eyes were still red and puffy. 

“Oh man!” Luffy sat down next to you on the bed, staring at your face. “Your allergies are terrible! You should’ve told me, we could’ve moved to another season ecosystem!”

His idiocy made you let out a garbled laugh, trying to hide your true feelings about the party. 

“It’s fine,” you said, shaking your head. But your bottom lip trembled, giving you away.

“You’ve been crying.” He stated it as a fact, not a question. He knew you too well for you to hide your tears for long. He smushed your cheeks together and held your face so you couldn’t avoid his gaze any longer. “Did Sanji make you cry?”

“No.” You tried to pull away from his grip, but he clamped down on your cheeks so you couldn’t escape. He wouldn’t let you leave his gaze until he figured out what was wrong. 

While you were here alone with him, all your worries felt so silly. Luffy didn’t even realize Hancock was in love with him. If you brought it up now, you’d be causing a big scene. 

“It’s stupid,” you whispered, but he only frowned at you. He opened his mouth to say something. 

“Luffy!” Hancock called from behind the door, interrupting his thoughts. “Are you in there? Should I come in?”

You rolled your eyes at her voice. Of course she came to find him. He had been gone for too long, and he was the only reason she was here. 

You tried to hide your disdain for the empress, but Luffy caught it, and his eyes widened. “You don’t like her!” he whispered. 

“Luffy, can we not do this right now?” you hissed, and the door opened. 

“Oh!” Hancock blushed seeing you and Luffy so close, but she glared daggers at you. “I didn’t realize you were with someone, Luffy.”

Luffy’s eyes slid between you and her, trying to figure it out. He was so close to the revelation, but he just couldn’t get there. 

The three of you rejoined the party reluctantly, but Luffy kept you close to him for the rest of the night. 

He’s always been a physical touch person, and tonight you were grateful for it. He was always holding your hand or had his arm wrapped around you. He stayed close, and even though you got death stares from Hancock, at least you had Luffy by your side to make it more manageable. 

[keravnous]

diet mountain dew; john wick/fem!reader (smut, 18+)

dating john wick - the playlist

The Boogeyman is out to get you. Little does he know, that you too are willing to do quite a bunch of things just to stay alive.

warnings: blood, guns, knives, injuries, physical violence/fighting, assassination attempt; dub-con, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), choking, dirty talk, spanking, a lot of manhandling bc for the love of god he doesn't know how to be soft anymore, gun kink, knife kink, size kink, strength kink, squirting, body worship if you blink, is this hate-fucking? idk; john has a horse cock change my mind; john is in his 50s, the reader is in her 20s; set somewhere after the series i guess? (I refuse to accept he's dead); problematic family relationship as a plot device; let's all collectively ignore the fact that he would actually never touch another woman or even dare to catch the smallest of feelings again; john gets off on the violence

word count: 10,6 k

thank you mel for a) listening to my ramblings and b) reading a good chunk of the first third of this dumpster fire and still going nuts about it, kissies and thank you v for listening to my keanu ramblings without losing faith in me

You wonder, if praying will help you. Probably not.

The sound of carnage, screams and gunshots in the hallway abruptly stops. You hear the assailant's heavy footsteps echoing off the floorboards outside of your hotel room mere seconds before the door bursts open, flies out of its hinges and rattles to the ground, wood creaking and breaking, splinters flying everywhere.

There had been a hit out on you for two days and every single soldier in your father's militia was ready to defend your life with their own.

Literally. You can tell by the man entering your suite.

You can tell by just how much he is covered in blood. You can tell by the way it drips down his forehead and how it soaks his white shirt - even the soles of his shoes creak with it. You can tell by the way he is totally and utterly drenched in red red red, and because you are certain it is not his.

They literally gave their life for you. The thought hits you like a blow to the head. People have died because of you. Fathers, brothers, sons. You recall your last conversation with your own father. They want us dead, they put out a contract on us - you had never seen him so nervous, so disheveled. What does that mean - his anxiety had been washing over you in seeping hot waves, sending cold shivers down your spine. It means, I need you out of the house - now.

Nausea bubbles in your stomach as the man now approaches you, casually strolls into the suite with his finger on the trigger of the gun dangling from his hand and you stare back at him - a deer in the headlights, frozen by fear in the eyes of its deadly predator. One of your father's men jumps from his cover, fires a shot and gets hit back with one straight between his eyes. It happens so quickly, that you can't turn your head away. You see the bullet piercing his forehead, blood splattering as soon as it exits the skull on the other side. His head flies back a little, and then his body goes limp, slack, as he falls to the ground with a heavy thud.

You want to scream. You want to vomit. You want to run. But there is nowhere to run to, nowhere to hide from him.

There's only one soldier left with you in the suite now and he is hiding around the corner, near the bathroom. The stranger - the assassin, the killer - does not lower the gun again, and does not let his eyes stray from you as he carefully enters the room. You feel terribly exposed, dressed only in your negligée, not daring to move.

Now, that the dim light of the suite's living room strikes his face, you can finally see him, see the man who has come to end you. He is older than you, maybe nearly twice your age, with dark hair and even darker eyes, matching his black suit. Lean and athletic, chest heaving slightly with physical exhaustion. The Boogeyman.

You do not know who or what you had expected, what cruel and dreadful images your brain had conjured up in the past 48 hours - 48 frightful hours of being moved around from hideout to hideout by your father's men, not staying in one place longer than necessary - but it certainly was not that. Not him. He is a lot more handsome than his reputation has led on. Seeing him on the subway around rush hour you would have never suspected him to be in this business. He looks nice. And that is exactly what makes him dangerous.

You have heard his name before. Echoing from the walls. Baba Yaga. Whispered with both: fear and respect. The Boogeyman. Blurted out: like a curse or like a blessing. Mister Wick: like redemption, like damnation. Jonathan, the king's son walking the earth as the devil.

John. The sound of his name is oddly human - disturbingly human - for someone looking as calm and collected, focused and concentrated as he does right now, while being drenched in blood and pointing a gun at you.

You must have said his name out loud, because his eyebrows twitch irritatedly, a movement so quick you barely missed it - must've sound desperate too, then.

Vision zeroing in on the barrel of his gun, your hands clutch the sofa's edge. There is so much adrenaline pumping through your veins right now that it freezes your limbs, has your ears ringing. The only thing responding to your brain fully are your eyes, and they snap away from the gun and over to the remaining soldier. It's a quick look, not even a second, but the hitman seems to recognize it and - with near inhumane speed - flicks his gun, and fires two shots. Blood splatters against the white door as the shots pin the soldier's body against it, and is it finally drops to the ground heavily it leaves a nasty trail, all wet and sticky and red.

Could be you.

You want to scream, but your body does not belong to you anymore, does not respond to your commands. It is a desperate, cruel sound that leaves your throat instead as you flinch with the sound of the gun being fired.

"Let's make this quick" his voice is gravelly and rough, like he has seen a thousand grim things and the pain of it has etched its way into his throat, left a nasty mark on every tone that ever dared to cross after.

That is when your fight or flight suddenly kicks in. Well, more specifically, it kicks in while he is speaking, as he starts to swap the empty clip of his gun.

He underestimates you. Everyone does. Your father, your brother. The countless men lying dead littered across the hotel's 25th floor. It will be his mistake.

You latch forward, grabbing the vase from the coffee table in front of you. The weight of it in your hand drags you down.

With all the strength you can muster, which is quite a lot considering the massive amounts of adrenaline that are currently amping up your body - you throw it at him. It connects with his forehead sharply; a deep, irritated noise bursting from his throat as it crashes, splinters and falls to the floor.

You are braver, braver than you should be as your assault does not end there, your body pushing you forward, leaping over the table and crashing into his broad shoulders.

I will not die today

Body ramming into his, he stumbles, as your fist connects with his chin. You have only been partially trained in hand-to-hand combat, after pleading your brother for months until he eventually gave in. Sadly, he wasn't nearly as thorough and honest with it as he was training his drug dealer and gun runners. But now, it is the only thing you can rely on.

There is nothing else; no one else left alive in that building who might be able to help you. It is up to you. So, you might as well try.

And Oh, does desperation fire up your blood.

I will not die today

The diversion does not last long and he - John John John only human only human only human - grabs you by you waist hard, fingers digging into your flesh and into the expensive silk, before he slams your body into the ground. All air leaves your lungs with a dull sound erupting from your chest, just as pain blooms around your ribs.

You cough and he looks down at you, confusion making his brows twitch, before cold-hearted determination takes over once more. John aims his gun at you once more, pulls back the hammer and you do not even think about it, your leg rising as you kick against his hand. The shot misses, buries itself deep into the expensive carpet a few inches next to your skull. You have no time to do either: panic or sigh in relief; instead, you deliver him a kick to his stomach, fighting yourself back onto your feet, punching him straight in the face.

John grunts and grabs your wrist, but you see it coming and throw yourself into his wide frame, wrapping your other arm around his back and thus hooking it underneath his right shoulder, dislocating his arm and preventing him from aiming his gun at you. You claw onto him as he twists your arm close to his stomach, while you wrap your legs around him, making it harder for John to shake you off.

I will not die today

You kick and dig the heel of your foot into his thighs and the back of his knees and he grunts and buckles a little, but turns wild and relentless quicker than you can blink, throws the two of you into the next wall. You gasp sharply as your back connects with the large mirror, splinters digging into your back - not deep enough to actually cut skin, but it stings nonetheless, the impact making you dizzy.

Sharp pain shoots through your back and your neck, but you are not willing to give up yet, as raw energy and rage and desperation surges through your body - one of your legs coming loose and your knee hitting his stomach repeatedly, making John grunt in pain and you use your momentum to dig your hand deep into his back, holding onto him and then swirling out of the deadlock he has got you in, jumping his back like a monkey.

His gun clatters to the ground and for a split second, the room falls silent. Then, roaring like an animal gone wild, he grabs your calves and slams his back into the nearest wall, has you screaming with the impact. You can feel blood pouring from your nose, feel it trickling down your lips.

I will not die today

John is stronger than you are, so so much stronger - the apex predator: all muscle, unbreakable focus and the sheer will to kill. But you are not only a little quicker; you also really want to stay alive. It is a force he rarely encounters. And quite frankly, it irritates him.

He may be older than you, taller than you and stronger than you but you have something he does not have: you actually still got something to lose.

And you fight like it, too. All scratches and sharp yells, as you punch and scrabble at his shoulders and tear at his tie, trying to strangle him with it. John is struggling against it, gasping for air and winding beneath your assault and then his grip around your claves grows hard like iron, seconds before he pulls - throws you over his head like you weigh nothing. You land on the expensive carpet with a heavy thud - groaning as you crash onto your side with sharp pain shooting through your shoulder, down your ribcage.

I will not die today

John sputters and stumbles forward, looking for his gun but you are quicker, kicking it away with your foot. It clatters back onto and slides over the wooden floorboards.

For a second you consider your choices, fighting yourself back onto your feet but John - a practiced and seasoned fighter - beats you to it and lands a blow to your upper back, sends you back down with him - a mess of sputtering saliva and painful groans. His body topples onto yours and he quickly rolls the two of you over the floor.

John is heavy and warm on top of you, as he keeps you in a tight headlock, your chest pressed to the floor and neck bend in a painful angle. He presses his strong forearm down onto your windpipe and you choke and cough, feet kicking, hands dragging across the wood, clawing at it feebly.

You can feel his breath on your cheek, hot and damp. You can feel his torso pressing against your back as he kneels behind you.

I will not die today

Mustering all your remaining strength, you trash against him, ramming your backside into his stomach. He grunts and for a split second, his grip loosens. It is all you need. Throwing your elbow back, you hit him in the chest and he caves in.

You cough, crawling forward and then scrambling back onto your feet, one of your negligée’s straps falling down your shoulder in the process. You hastily pull it back up, seconds before John launches a cascade of punches onto you.

A few of them hit you as you try to block them; dull pain igniting in your body, blooming in your face and arms. Your breath goes heavy as you stumble backwards. You cannot do this. There is no way. You just physically can't.

He is stronger. Taller. Heavier. Deadlier. Your body and every single muscle, bone, nerve in it aches and you wheeze but he is already onto you again, half-tackles you and grabs your waist, ready to smash you back onto the ground.

You cling onto him with all your remaining strength, struggling against his huge frame, wrapping your hands around his neck in an attempt to get him to stumble.

His hair tingles on your naked arms. Oh wait --

Tearing at his hair - which has him grunting in both, pain, and irritation at the unusual attempt - you clumsily pull yourself up onto his shoulders, cutting his face right above his eyebrow with your nails in the process until you finally wrap one leg around his throat and close it around there tightly, choking him. John tries to pull you off him and succeeds after quite the tussle, only to find your frame clinging to him, legs and arms wrapping around his body, hands scratching and feet kicking.

I will not fucking die today

In an attempt to either get rid of each other or submit the last blow, to finally kill the other, you two swirl through the room - a deadly dance of torn skin, smashed glass panes and mirrors, bruises and cuts. Somewhere in between kicks and punches, he managed to pick up his gun - and right now, you are mustering all of your exhausted strength to prevent the barrel from pressing against your skull.

Eventually, John crashes your bodies through a large wooden door, and is not quick enough - unable to stop his own oxe-like strength - to stop himself from stumbling into the room. The two of you only come a halt as his knees hit something soft and ironically that is what finally topples both of you over, landing onto the mattress of your bedroom with a soft thud and deep, exhausted grunts.

Your ears ring, and you are ready to lash out at him again despite the physical exhaustion, to strike him square across the face, as --

There is something hard pressing against your crotch.

The world falls silent.

No. No, there's no fucking way. It's got to bea hidden weapon. Must be.

But clearly, it is not. There, between your spread legs, his hard cock presses snugly against your panty-clad pussy.

And he just feels so huge - mouth-watering huge - that your body responds in its own way, hips snapping up, stuttering against the hard bulge. John lets go off a shaky, ragged breath, hand still clutching his gun. And you know, that this is your window.

Feeling the warmth that his body and his hard dick are radiating through his expensive suit, you roll your hips once - a languid, slow motion, rubbing your pussy over his bulge.

And he groans. A deep, primal sound that sounds a little coarse. John is looking at you, starring you down, but there is a shadow dancing over his eyes, turning his brown eyes into deep and dark, black pits that gives him away.

He is horny. The Boogeyman is fucking horny. You would laugh, if the realization wasn't knocking all air straight from your lungs. Because it just another reminder, proof of what he actually is: human.

And what a sight he is to see - eyes turning darker every second, his chest heaving with every breath and making it seem like his shirt is going to pop a button or two any second now, his cock prodding against its restraints and your clothed cunt.

It makes you want him. The thought leaves you dizzy, makes you gasp.

Apparently, that is all he needs to roll his hips back into yours. And that - that is just unfair. It's playing dirty. It's, it's -- His dick feels huge as it trails along your folds, has the muscles in your abdomen clenching.

"Fuck", you breathe, a little overwhelmed with and helpless at the sudden surge of lust that ignites your body, the wetness pooling between your legs.

John is not saying anything, just stares you down while he continues to slooowly roll his hips into yours, grinds his cock against your cunt. Your pelvis twitches upward as you start to meet his movements, and then you can hear it. He let's go of a deep breath, and it sounds like the faintest moan.

You need to hear more of that. You need more of him, your cunt aching and hole clenching around nothing already.

"John", and this time you say his name - consciously - it sounds a different way of desperate: your voice reduced to a small whisper, torn at the edges by a wanton whimper ripping from your throat.

If it throws him off-guard he does not show it, does not let you see it. Instead, he grabs your chin hard, gaze locking with yours. Dark pupils blown wide, swallowing the honey-brown of his eyes, and your breath hitches.

"Yeah?", he rasps, and it does not take more than one long look from you for him to lean in, to press his lips onto yours.

The kiss tastes of blood and adrenaline and doom, and you relish in it. Relishing the way his lips move against yours and his beard tickles a little, relishing how his tongue presses into your mouth. It feels like he is eating you whole, licking into your mouth, one hand dancing over your waist - featherlight, like he doesn't know how to touch a body without hurting someone, destroying someone.

I will not die today, motherfucker

Your whole body now sings with it, the security of an impending victory, as you roll your hips into his once more, your tongue now licking back into his mouth. For a second you think about how to strike again, now that he is seemingly distracted, but all will to fight leaves your body as one of his hands brushes over your knee, wanders further and eventually rests on your thigh.

The touch is electrifying and then his hand grows braver, his movements more certain, as he grabs your thigh, feels you up. It happens so suddenly, that you gasp into the kiss.

John parts from you, his lips a little plush already. "Oh God", you whisper as you stare Death Turned Human straight in the face, not a single thought remaining in your skull despite your lust.

He doesn't speak, as he gently let’s go off your leg and straightens back up and for a second you think he is going to hurt you, with the way his brows are furrowed - but he doesn't.

Instead, he moves in, right over your comparably tiny frame - a mountain of a man. John kneels above you, his weight pinning you down while he straddles your thighs and Jesus fucking Christ - what a sight he is to see.

Dark locks falling into his forehead, a little sticky with sweat and the bits of blood from the cut your nails gave him moments ago - right above his left eyebrow, still lazily trickling down into his lashes. His chest heaves with ragged breaths, as he hastily gets rid of his jacket, carelessly drops it to the ground. His black button-down clings to his muscular body underneath his waistcoat and his equally as muscular thighs pin you down to the bed, black fabric nearly tearing at the seams. And then there is his hard cock.

It looks as huge as it felt, with the way it bulges his pants, the outline of it clearly visible as it buckles proudly against its restraints. You are certain, you will not be able to close your hand around it fully - not a chance.

One of his hands - the one lacking a finger, which you only now notice and what sends shivers down your spine - wanders over your body, pulling your negligée down in the process, right tit spilling out of the soft silk. He immediately grabs it, cups it with his large hand and squeezes. You mewl, marveling at just how big his hand is, just as his whole body is in comparison to you. His fucked-up finger digs into the flesh, sending shivers down your spine.

John's hand gropes your tit, before he impatiently pulls the neckline down roughly. You sigh, arousal shooting down your spine and tingling in your lower belly, as two of his fingers nudge your nipple, pinch it.

He watches your face intently, as he continues to grope you, rolls your nipple between his fingers. You mewl, breath accelerating a little but it is just not enough and you buck your hips upwards. John grunts in, what you assume is an approving manner, and let's go off your tit, reaches to his belt at his loins.

Quickly pulling a knife from God-knows-where exactly, a sharp blade enters your vision.

You blink, panic seeping through your lust and your legs twitch a little with fear. If John notices it, he neither shows it nor does he say anything, just moves the knife closer to your body.

The blade shines in the dim light as it dances over your exposed thighs carefully, the metal cooly pressing against your skin, before he flicks it and cuts your negligée open. The thin, soft fabric cleanly cut in half it now lazily slides from your aching body, falls to its sides. Your chest heaves, shivers running down your arms and back.

It happens so quickly that you can only blink. As your brain finally catches up with your eyes, you come to realize that he is holding a real fucking tactical knife. You have thrown one once - they are sharp as hell and deadlier than a bullet. The sound of fabric tearing easily, like paper, proves your point.

And John's movements with the blade are so fast that your breath hitches, a little afraid he might cut you. But he does not, instead, he quickly pulls the torn silk off you and away from under you, carelessly tosses it into the dark of the room.

The edge of the blade dances over your skin and you do not dare to breathe, as he trails it up and down your curves, gently nudges your nipples. "I could kill you", he says calmly and then, in lightning speed, presses the blade into the crook of your neck. Your head sinks back into the mattress, in an instinct to flee the sharp edge.

All it does is to expose your neck further and something gleams in John's eyes, as he presses the sharp tip down slowly, carefully nudging your skin with it. The metal is cold and hard and sharp and your breath hitches. Just a little bit more and it might burst your skin, draw blood.

But, to your own confusion, you do not feel threatened anymore. Oddly enough, your nerves tingle with excitement. You blame it on the already high levels of adrenaline that still pump through your veins, rushing back and forth from your brain and your lungs, but a small voice inside of your head whisper gently, deviously, that you know That's not it. And he knows it, too.

It's in his eyes as well, the sheer excitement of it all, the fucked-up pleasure it evokes in the both of you lays heavy in the air.

It turns you fucking on. It turns you on, that the man who - minutes ago - tried you kill you and did hurt you very fucking badly in the process of it, now decides to let you live.

It turns you on, that you are at his mercy.

It turns you on, that he decided to spare you - just for now.

It turns you on, that these large and strong hands holding the knife have that sort of power over you. And thus, as the blade nudges your head back further, you moan.

"I could cut your throat", John's voice is heavy and thick with arousal and you can feel your heartbeat picking up, breath accelerating. His gaze drops down, watches the rapid rising and falling of your breasts hungrily, while another soft moan escapes from your lips.

"Don't", you breathe softly.

The knife practically burns on your skin, and you can feel arousal flooding your clothed pussy, rubbing your thighs together for any sort of friction. John can feel your squirming underneath him, but he can also see your eyes turning watery and dark with lust, pupils blown and a pretty pink spreading on your cheeks, your breath growing shallow. And he just really needs to fucking taste you right now.

As quickly as it appeared, the blade vanishes from your throat before he twirls the knife like the ruthless, reckless professional that he is, and buries it deep to the hilt in the mattress next to you. The sharp sound as it pierces the thick fabric has the hairs on your body standing up, goosebumps rolling over your skin.

"I'll do it later", he rumbles - casually, like he is talking about doing chores or picking up groceries - before hunching over you, grabbing your chin with his fucked-up hand, and kissing you again. His tongue immediately pushes into your mouth, like he is starving to taste you.

John eats you whole, with the way his lips move against yours. His hand cups your face, tongue licking into your mouth, toying with yours. His kiss steals your breath and you start to get dizzy with it, hips bucking. You can feel his lips curling up and then he parts from you, leaving you a gasping mess, spit pooling at the corners of your mouth.

"Let me touch you, John", you whisper, voice a little small because you do not know why you feel that way, and if he will even allow it. But you just need to feel him.

For a long moment his gaze dances over your face and something shifts behind his eyes, like a shadow gets lifted and then very quickly returns. Ultimately, he gives a court nod, so small you nearly miss it and gives you a little more room while straightening back up.

Carefully, as if not to spook him, you dart one hand out, place it on his chest. The muscle is firm underneath his suit and you run your hand along the lapel of his jacket, down and then back up, before it slips beneath it.

John's body radiates warmth under the black fabric of his shirt and your other hand comes up, before you shove the jacket off his shoulders and onto the floor next to the bed.

Your breath hitches.

He is wearing a holster, a reminder of his deadliness, of the gun laying somewhere next to you. Maybe, he sees the fear returning in your eyes, but he is quick to shrug the holster off, throws it into the dark where it clatters onto the wooden floor boards. What is left in front of you are broad shoulders and a muscular chest, the fabric nearly tearing at his movements.

As you run your hands over it, you cannot help yourself - you need to fucking feel him for real.

Quickly making work of his waistcoat and tie you toss both to the side carelessly, before your hands roam his broad chest. His button-down clings snugly against his upper body and you can feel the muscles work beneath the black fabric as your hands brush over them. You tug at the shirt, pulling its tails from his pants before hastily opening the first few buttons. The skin underneath is pale, littered by blue - red - black bruises, birthmarks scattered in between like stars. You pop open the rest of the buttons, greedy to touch him. And as the shirt falls to the sides your hands are already onto his chest, roaming over and admiring the muscular, defined canvas of strength, that violence has painted a pretty picture on.

John is watching you intently as you undress him and then explore his body, your pupils blown wide and dark, mouth agape a little. He is a little taken aback by it - by someone not seeing his body as the ultimate tool of death that it is, but as something else, that he cannot really pinpoint because he can't even look in the mirror without seeing destruction and decay. But the way your gaze wanders over his body, the way you touch him, is different from that and he has not felt anything like it in years.

And John wants. Carnal desire tugs at his brain, shoots arousal between his legs, makes his cock twitch and a low growl escaping his throat.

The sound gets you going: pushing yourself up with one hand, the other wrapping around his strong neck for leverage as you sit up, mouth immediately clutching to his throat. He tastes of sweat and after-shave - sharp and musky - and you run your tongue over his skin greedily, licking and sucking at the skin while your naked body presses against his.

It disarms him. The gentle touch that you put his body up to, while everything still aches from plowing through the better half of your father's militia and beating the hell out of you, confuses him. Your touch, your lips on his skin are soft and not aiming to hurt - instead, they grow more and more needy, wanton and hasty, as you lick over his bruised skin, tasting his sweat. Your hands over his abdomen caress his defined muscles, in awe of his utter strength, thumbs brushing through the soft and dark trail of hair leading beneath the waistband of his trousers. And all John can do, is watch, his gaze locking with yours as goosebumps erupt on his skin.

And you - oh you; your head swims with the way you turn this animal into a human again, unlock a different set of animalistic needs within him and hearing John's breath growing heavy really fucking does it for you, feeling his scarred and beaten-up skin underneath your hands, wrapping them around the deadly machine that is his body. It makes you want more.

Shedding his blood-stained shirt off of his shoulders, your hands roam over his upper back - feeling the scars there: of knives, larger and small ones and round ones of bullets that once pierced his skin. There is something else, a burn scar, in the shape of a cross and he hisses as your fingers brush over it, nails digging into the stunted skin.

It pulls John out of his stasis, reminds him of who he is and you can feel the air swinging with it seconds before he moves. His large hands wrap around your shoulders and then he pulls you off him, throws you back onto the mattress. You yelp, eyes growing wide as you watch his face as it turns from lightly dazed back to stern, wild, with his brows furrowed.

"That's enough", he says, voice coarse and it still feels like a small victory, even though he spreads your legs roughly, hands digging deep into your thighs - hard enough to bruise - before he kneels between them. He yanks your body forward at the back of your knees, watches your tits bounce and then leans in, his lips immediately attacking your throat, your neck.

His lips are surprisingly soft against your skin, his beard tickling a little as it brushes over your tits, your stomach, your thighs while his tongue licks fat stripes over your nipples and down down down your upper body, right to your navel. One of his hands creeps up your body once more and roughly cups your tit, squeezes, and gropes it, rolls your hardened nipple between his index and middle finger. His stunted ring-finger digs deep into your tit and you gasp, hips bucking. John's lips suck and nibble at your skin, before eventually ghosting over your pubic bone, teasing you before assaulting your thighs again, teeth biting down gently into the soft flesh. You gasp and moan while he gropes your body, inhales your scent - as you watch how his lips, tongue, and teeth dance over your thighs, moving closer to your cunt.

John finally, finally, puts his mouth onto your pussy, peppers open-mouthed kisses around your clit, before clothing his lips around it and sucking on it hard through your panties. Your hips buck as a high-pitched moan erupts from your throat, hands flying into his greying locks.

"Fuck", you whine, feeling fresh wetness flooding your folds, dampening the thin fabric further. John can see the outlines of your wet pussy pressing against your panties and parts from your clit momentarily, only to lick a fat stripe over your clothed cunt, watching it twitch.

"That's fucking pretty", he rasps, gaze locking with yours and you feel all air leaving your lungs. His eyes are so fucking dark, like gleaming black pits swallowing you whole, his breath a little flat with arousal.

You want him to fuck you. Really fuck you. To plow you open, rail you until you cannot sit nor walk. He is already so so close to you, but too far away at the same time. "Please", is all you manage to utter out. And it seems to be sufficient enough for him; seems to get across what you want, what you need.

John's fingers wrap around the front of your lace slip, tugging at the fabric - that rubs along your cunt at the sudden motion and has you gasping quietly - and then he pulls. The lace tears easily as he rips it apart, and cool air hits your wet and hot pussy, as he practically peels you out of your underwear, throws it to the side. The look on his face is wild and you can hear him taking a deep breath, smelling your arousal, before he spreads your folds apart with his thumbs, gaze wandering over your plump and flushed cunt.

Teasingly brushing over your clit with his thumb, John watches your reaction intently. And fuck, you do not disappoint. Throwing your head back, you moan, drawing in a deep breath through your opened mouth that heaves your chest, your eyelids fluttering.

You are dying for him to touch you and as he does, it feels like your body catches fire - lust washing away the dull pain in your limbs and near your ribs.

"Oh God", you breathe out as his thumb draws another wide and slow circle over your clit, your hands darting out and grabbing the sheets "Please."

And John complies, his thumb rubbing over your clit in a slow but steady rhythm.

Gasping, your hands clutch the sheets, knees darting away from each other, giving him more space. John accepts the invitation, grabs one thigh hard, fucked up ring-finger digging deep into your skin. His fingers move further, abandons your clit and dance over your folds, down to your hole. It flutters as two of his digits tease it, gently circling around it.

"Please", you whine once more, lifting your hips a little, a desperate noise leaving your throat. John smirks to himself, before pushing two of his fingers into you.

The stretch is sudden and bigger than expected and you moan coarsely, as he pushes his digits along your walls deeply and nestles them into your seeping hot cunt up to his knuckles. And Jesus, you feel so full already; your head swimming as you consider how big his cock must feel, then.

Your breath goes quick and shallowly as he starts to move them, and then he leans in. Nudges your clit with the tip of his tongue, licks over it.

You feel like combusting on the spot: your nerves tingling with arousal, your whole body still aching from the beating you gave each other earlier - the pain in your back blooming as you stretch it with your hips desperately shoving themselves near his touch - your pussy squeezing his fingers.

John pumps his thick fingers in and out of you, his tongue rubbing and circling your clit and soft, needy moans fall from your lips. Obscene, wet sounds fill the air, mingle with your moans and heavy breathing. His lips close in around your clit, sucking at it while his fingers rub along your spongy walls and your cunt squeezes them hard as fresh wetness floods your folds, your squirt wetting his beard and dripping down on the sheets below.

You can hear - feel - John humming against your pussy, peppering the wet skin with open mouthed kisses, licking over it, and tasting your slick.

You feel so fucking good - lust pulsating through your veins, loins on fire - and your head falls to the side, body rocking with sharp gasps and your mouth agape, eyelids fluttering as --

There's the gun. And the knife.

You could easily grab either one or the other next to you, pull the blade out of the matress or the hammer back; put a bullet right between his eyes or plow the blade deep deep into his skull. Killing the Boogeyman. Killing Baba Yaga.

That would do wonders to your family's business. It would emancipate you from it, you would be free. Free to rule.

"Thinking 'bout killing me?", John rumbles, tongue licking a fat stripe over your cunt, nudging your clit. Your gaze flickers back to him: hair a mess, eyes gleaming darkly, hands on your thighs to keep your legs spread. He does not look surprised. Neither does he look worried.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head: he is toying with you. Has been the whole fucking time. The wolf hunting the deer, running a few rounds through the woods to weaken it; its breath whistling with exhaustion, long legs buckling before it collapses - an easy kill. An easy kill for an old wolf, one, that can't quite handle a real hunt anymore.

But maybe, just maybe - judging from the look in his eyes - he got lost in his own game. Its reins slipped from his bloody hands, the wolf tumbling to the ground.

Looking back at him, your lips curl into a sweet smile. "Not anymore", your hand darts out, brushing the loose strands of dark hair from his face - the soft gesture leaving him visibly confused -, "John."

Two can play this game. And maybe, just maybe, the deer can tire the wolf out first.

Something gleams in John's eyes, dances over them like a shadow and he seems to accept the challenge - readying to tire you out - tongue licking over your clit once more, making you shiver and mewl, as he pulls his fingers out of your dripping hole. You feel empty and --

"Do you really think, you could kill me?", he rumbles, voice deep and rough around the edges, "Stupid slut."

And then, quicker than your brain can process it, his hand comes down on your dripping wet pussy.

Your breath hitches, topples over and leaves your throat as a raw, needy moan. Softly stinging pain blooms between your folds and sets your nerves on fire. Blame it on the bruises, blame it on the pain you both inflicted on each other moments ago, but: it riles you up. Mingles with your aching bones and aching cunt, has you arching your back.

"Y'really think you could kill me", he doesn't sound offended, not even amused - voice plain, like he is inquiring if you really believed the earth to be flat. Like you really are stupid.

And you start to feel stupid, too. There was never a chance. You never had a chance. Your death was sealed, determined the second John stepped into the hotel.

You were stupid to believe you could outrun or beat him. You are stupid. And John has every right to show you, teach you, punish you for it.

Giving your cunt another firm slap, John watches your hips twitch, hears your pussy squelching and soft moans falling from your lips. "Shit", you sigh and he slaps your wet pussy once more, feels your slick folds wetting the palm of his hand.

"D'you like that, girl?", and as your only response are wanton gasps falling from your mouth John chuckles deeply, gives your pulsating cunt another two firm slaps. Seeing how he is pulling you apart, how good he makes you feel really seems to do it for him, gets him quite talkative.

"Uh-huh", you make dumbly, quite illiterate, watching him stroking your flushed, hot cunt with two of his fingers. Shivers run down your spine.

And then he leans back in, licks a fat stripe over your sensitive, flushed cunt, from the hole up to the clit.

You squirm, mewl as his beard brushes over your overstimulated skin, leaving a slight burn that mingles deliciously with a fresh wave of arousal that floods your body scalp to toes.

The muscles in your abdomen clench as two of his fingers circle your fluttering hole and then push in, rubbing along your plush walls agonizingly slowly and you can feel yourself tightening around it. Your juices squelch from your cunt as you squirt against his tongue and your slick runs down your folds, wets his fingers and palm while his tongue laps at your pussy, tasting your sweetness.

John pushes is fingers deeper as you moan and sigh, hands fisting his hair and hips moving against his tongue, his digits thrusting into you.

"Oh god", you huff as his lips close in around your clit, sucking on it and the tip of his tongue flicking against it occasionally.

Another wave of fresh wetness floods your cunt as you squirt once more, wetting the sheets below, your slick running down John's wrist.

John parts from your clit, nudges it with his tongue, his beard glistening with your juices.

"Yeah, that's fucking it", another one of his thick fingers pumps itself into your tight little hole and his other hand - also slick with your juices - grabs your thigh, "That's a good girl."

You feel so full, your spine feels like it's on fire and your brain tingles with it, sends wave of pleasure down down down your body; muscles in your loins clenching, chest heaving. It becomes all too much as he leans back in, rubs his tongue over your clit, lips sucking and teasing your folds.

The slight burn of John's beard tickling your plush, hot cunt. His fingers working your open and stretching your tight little hole open far and wide, obscene squelching sounds filling the air as he works you open, brushing against your g-spot occasionally and making you see stars.

But it's too little. It's just not enough.

"Fuck", you whine as John's thick fingers brush over your g-spot with quite some force, tongue lapping at your seeping cunt, "Shit, please. Please, just fuck me, please!"

You can feel him grinning against your wet cunt, beard a little sticky with your juices, letting go of your pussy with an obscene pop. "Yeah", he licks his lips, tastes you on his tongue, "D'you want my cock?"

And that - that might be what makes you lose your mind. Because yes. Yes, you do.

You have been craving to touch it, to feel it since it had pressed against your clothed pussy earlier. Thus, all dignity leaves your body with one, clean whine that breaks free from your throat.

"Yes, fuck - oh god, John", you brabble, legs falling apart further, inviting him in, his digits sinking deeper into your soaking wet hole, "Shit, please fuck me, John - please, please, please --"

Pleas are still falling from your lips like a chant, as a surprising noise breaks the silence, so strangely beautiful that it has you nearly shuddering: John is laughing. It's a nice baritone sound, and the fine lines around his eyes crinkle with it - it's so beautiful, that it drowns the world out. You watch him in awe, as he shakes his head, avoids your gaze.

"Jesus. Look at you", he huffs, voice dripping thickly with amusement, "If you need it that badly--"

Straightening back up and kneeling between your legs, John slips his fingers from your cunt and makes quick work of his belt, trousers, and boxers. The second he frees is cock, you start to drool like a fucking pavlovian-dog.

His dick is so fucking huge. It is nicely curved and cut, the bulbous pink head glistening with pre-cum and a thick, pumping vein at the bottom that rakes from the base to the tip, as it rests between trimmed, dark pubic hair. His cock bobs against his abdomen as it bounces free, smears the pre-cum along the pale skin, twitches at the sudden contact. And Jesus fucking Christ, you just want to fucking touch it, feel its velvety skin in your palm. But you just know that you won't even be able to wrap your hand around its base fully, it's impossible, it--

"I-it won't fit", you whisper, a little taken aback by his sheer size.

"Oh, I'll make it fit, baby."

John takes his cock in one hand, thumb right beneath its head, and rubs it against your slit. And Jesus fucking Christ. Your hips snap up, meet his movements, and he grunts while he spreads his pre-cum along your cunt, gathers your slick. The thick head of his dick prods against your entrance and you take a deep breath, looking down between your legs. You watch how he slooowly pushes in and you gasp at the sudden intrusion, the delicious stretch making you moan.

His cock feels so fucking big, hot, and heavy, as he nestles the tip in, your hole clenching around it. John's brows furrow, and he doesn't wait long until he pushes his cock in further.

The thick base starts to stretch your slim rings of muscles, a sharp pain shooting through it. He can feel your hole protesting, can see you wincing. "Breathe, baby", he hums, "Let me do the rest."

His coarse voice mingles with his words and the waves of pleasure shooting through your body despite the dull pain, conjures up a pretty pretty image that floods your brain - there's sunlight everywhere, orange rays of it hitting a bed covered in white sheets, sweaty bodies on top of it; limbs entangled, hands intertwined with their golden rings shining brightly in the warm light, heavy breathing and sloppy kisses, and lazy thrusts as his cock fucks you awake. The thought makes you dizzy, your legs falling apart and hole fluttering open, inviting him in.

The slight burn leaves you a gasping, whimpering mess as he pushes himself in deep, nestles his huge cock in between your aching, hot, and tight walls.

And John feels like he is going to pass out. No blow to the head, no bullet to the chest, no knife to the stomach could ever make him feel as dizzy as the feeling of your hot cunt squeezing him does right now. His whole body is vibrating with want and lust and he just really hopes that you don't notice that he has gotten a little rusty. The thought quickly gets drowned-out as he looks down, where his thick cock practically splits you open, vanishes in your hole.

"Shit", he huffs out, places one large hand on your stomach and thrusts. Feeling himself moving inside of you has him moaning, gaze shooting up to you, meeting your eyes, as his hand presses down. "You feel me right here, baby?", he rasps and you nod, mouth agape by the sheer force of his thrust, tip of his cock prodding your cervix.

John can see his cock moving inside of you, the way your stomach bulges a little. He gets a little dizzy with, and then his eyes make the mistake of moving up to your face. And it takes a whole lot of fucking will-power of him to not just thrust and thrust and thrust and fuck you until you cry, bleed.

You are so fucking pretty. Mouth agape you watch how his cock vanishes between your legs, splits your cunt open, with his eyes heavy-lidded and cheeks flushed. Your lips are plush and red from his assault.

Your hands grip the sheets and your breasts heave with your deep breaths, that grow a little more flaccid. Next to you lays his gun, knife still buried into the mattress. His eyes drop to the weapons and his breath hitches. And for a split second, like a flash of light, he wonders what in God's name he's doing here. He is a professional. The Ballerina works like that. He doesn't.

A sweet, sweet noise rips him out of his thoughts. "J-john", you mewl, eyes still trained on his massive dick splitting you open, "I-it, it's --"

"Yeah?", he breathes, the sound all soft and careful around the edges.

"Heavy", you breathe.

"Does it hurt?", he kind of wants it to. Make you pay for what you did to him. He kind of doesn't want it to. Make you enjoy what he's got to give.

John realizes he is fucked.

You nod, head flying back into the cushions, while your brows dart together.

John's free hand flies to your clit, nudges it gently, before slowly rubbing wide circles over it. You gasp, as you feel fresh wetness flooding your cunt and dripping down your folds to where his cock splits your hole open, pools around it. He carefully pulls out a little and then pushes back in, assisted by your slick. The way you moan spurs him on and the circles on your clit grow faster and smaller.

Aching your back, you lean into the touch. "That's a good girl", he whispers, voice raw and coarse, dripping with lust and the exhaustion of holding back. John bottoms out, while continuing to rub your clit and he can feel your walls growing plush, your hole fluttering around his dick, relaxing with your hot, seeping cunt inviting him in. "Feels good?"

"Yeah, fuck", you feel like you are being split open, with his thick cock filling you to the brim and rubbing along your walls with every little movement, the thick head prodding gently against your cervix, "Shit, John."

It feels so fucking good, all thoughts being washed away from your brain as he starts to move carefully, thrusts into you once, twice. You moan, lips slightly parted, before your gaze flies to him.

And Fuck. John's chest is flushed a little, muscles of his abdomen flexing with every thrust while his gaze is trained down to where his cock fucks into you, brows darted together a little and his breathing audible.

"John?", you whisper, and his gaze immediately shoots up to you as your comparably tiny hand wraps around the wrist of his hand that is still rubbing your clit.

"Yeah?"

"Fuck me."

For a long moment, he just looks at you and you think - no, you are convinced - that you can see a glimpse of the human being he once was. Caring, sweet and gentle; as he seems to really take it into consideration if you are ready yet, if you know what you are begging for.

Apparently, he does deem you prepared enough, and the soft gaze gets replaced by a dark gleam as all gentleness vanishes from his face once more. Without a warning, John rolls his hips back only to thrust into you again, deep, and hard, immediately picking up a quick rhythm.

It comes as a genuine surprise to you and you gasp, mewling but it quickly feels just so fucking good, practically lights your body up and leaves every nerve-ending on fire, each thrust has you moaning loudly.

It spurs him on, makes him grunt and for a while, you both just watch him gliding in and out of your tight hole, with him feeling your muscles squeezing him and you feeling his cock stretching your open further and further. Your lips as slightly parted and his brows are furrowed as he rolls his hips into yours and you feel time getting lost on you, the only thing of importance remaining is the feeling of him filling you up. John's hands roam your body, wandering over your thighs and your stomach, your hips before angling your leg, pushing the heel of your foot on his shoulder, and grabbing your ankle with one hand, his dick slips into you even further, balls slapping against your ass heavily with each thrust.

You can tell that John has not fucked in a long, long time. It's not the way he does it - all fluid, languid thrust of his hips, muscles dancing under the soft skin. It's mostly the way he pants and grunts - sounds just as desperate as you feel. And still, he has the stamina of a racehorse.

You can feel that he wants to prove it, too, as his free hand grabs your thigh and hoists your other leg over his hip bone, practically pulling your lower half off the bed in the process. Your pelvis now clings to his, obscene sounds of his cock fucking into your wet pussy filling the air while he huffs with his thrusts, yet does not slow down.

The grip on both, your ankle and your thigh are hard, and you are certain his hands will leave a bruise but you just cannot bring yourself to care. Deep down you know, that someone will see them: your maids, your friends, your family.

But all thoughts, all worries get swapped from your brain as your gaze wanders up from where John's dick hammers into you steadily, rakes over his defined stomach and chest and finally, finally lands on his face.

He looks downright, utterly, and breathtakingly -- pornographic.

John's dark pupils blown wide gleaming with arousal, his cheeks are slightly blushed and a thin layer of sweat makes him glow in the dim light of the living room falling onto the bed. It surrounds him like a halo, a Saint of Death and Decay, with his dark hair falling into his forehead and onto his shoulders. He brushes it out of the way with his stunted hand, a ragged breath making his chest heave. There is still some of your slick wetting his beard.

You can't help your mind from going there, from wondering how different things could have been. What it would be like if you had met me in a bar instead of him entering your suite, leaving the hallway behind him looking like a slaughterhouse. Maybe he would have laughed at your jokes, in the dim light of your favorite bar in the city. Maybe he would have liked the same music as you do. Maybe, just maybe, he would have brought you home only to stay the night and fuck you until you would have lost your goddamn mind.

Your hand wanders down your body, strokes your waist and hip in the process, before it languidly drops between your spread legs, two fingers darting out and rubbing circles over your sensitive clit.

John moves quickly, his usual deadly precision shattering your peaceful fantasy, his hand ditching your thigh and closing in around your waist. "Don't you fuckin' touch yourself", he growls, and it's the first time you hear real, actual emotion dwelling in his throat - not his toneless, cold and mechanical rumble. He sounds pissed. Offended.

And the best part is: it seems to get him fucking going.

John leans in, your calf still resting on his shoulder and the slight pain of the stretch is delicious as he nearly folds your body in half. You can feel his dick sliding in even deeper into your hole and you gasp and whine, one hand coming up to dig into his biceps to just hold on. Hold on, while he pounds into you with perfectly angled, deep and strong thrusts, hitting your g-spot with every single one of them.

You know that the suite's door is in shambles, that anyone could walk in here and see you having your brains fucked out by the man who is here to kill you - but you don't care. Part of it is, because the gun is still resting next to your head on the sheets. You could just grab it and shoot anyone dead in heartbeat, whoever is trying to disturb the pleasure that shoots through your body.

But it is also him.

It's the way John is towering over you, back hunched, looking all wide and powerful and deadly, with the way he shields your body from view and harm as he thrusts into you. As he pushes all his rage, adrenaline, and strength into your tight hole, groans, and pants into your ear.

There is nothing you can do, despite holding onto him, nails digging into his back, clutching his broad shoulders, fingers running over his tattoos desperately. He is fucking the living daylight out of you, your body moving like a ragdoll underneath the mountain of muscles and strength. Your cunt is being split open by his cock, as you feel him hammering into you and you feel like you are going to lose your mind, panting and moaning with each of his thrusts.

"John, fuck", you moan sweetly, eyes rolling into your skull as he pounds into you, "You feel so fucking good, shit --"

"Yeah", he huffs, his forehead slowly sinking onto yours, "You too, baby."

You can see his eyelids fluttering, feel his upper body heaving beneath your hands, smell the blood on his skin, mingling with his musky scent. Blaming it on the sickening cocktail of hormones that is flooding both - your brain and your body - you lean in, your lips desperately smacking against his.

And Jesus Fucking Christ. Does John kiss you.

Kisses you like he is starving for it, licking back into your mouth - his body pressing yours into the mattress with his whole weight and muscle, while still thrusting into you.

Your hands tangle into his hair, tugging at it. John moans against your lips and your stomach flutters at the sound, and you want more. One hand moves to lay at the crook of his neck and your tongue presses against his, licking back into his mouth. Adding some force to his neck you invite John deeper into the kiss, and he follows suite, steals you the last bit of air your lungs were holding. Panting you part from him, thumb brushing over the crook of his neck.

Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself. You feel so alive and you want him to wreck you, to leave something behind that you will remember for every day your heart continues to beat. Greedily breathing against his lips, you can't help yourself but to whisper: "Harder."

John blinks, hips stuttering. And then, he grunts. His hand digs into your waist as he grabs you there, hold you in place will his hips rut into you. Picking up a near brutal rhythm, obscene sounds of your slick being pushed in and out and in out of your hole as he jackhammers into your g-spot, the bedframe rattling as John's thrusts pound it into the wall - leaving you a gasping and moaning mess. His belt clinks with his thrusts and you cling onto him, sharp whines escaping your throat.

"John John John", his name leaves your mouth like a mantra, sharp and high-pitched. His head falls forward, dark locks brushing over your cheek as his temple rests against yours and then you hear it.

John moans.

It's a deep, carnal sound. Your stomach flutters and lust shoots through your body at the noise, your tight cunt squeezing his thick cock as you squirt around his cock like a broken fucking hose, wetting his pubic hair. You can feel it rubbing along your wet folds, the sensation making you mewl, leaves your hips shuddering.

"Shit", you breathe, hands cradling his muscular back and then you can feel his dick twitching inside of you, accompanied by yet another one of his sweet, sweet moans, "Fuck, John--"

He raises his head and your gazes connect, before he leans in, presses his lips onto yours once more. The kiss is surprisingly soft and in stark contrast to the way he ruts and pounds into you and then he hits the spot once more and -

Everything goes white as your muscles clench and unclench suddenly, as you nearly scream against his lips; your hole practically milking his cock as you cum, pussy gushing and squirting around him like a broken hose.

John continues to fuck you through your orgasm and his heavy breathing reaches your ears through the cotton candy, that slowly wraps you in as everything turns light and bright. He moans deeply against your cheek as he comes, too - shoots hot ropes of cum into you and paints your walls with it.

His movements still as he buries himself deep into you, cock twitching with each thick rope of his cum and you can feel him fill you up, as his massive frame slowly sinks down onto you.

Your legs grow heavy and the stretch of your left leg is turning painful and you - a little clumsily - pull it away from his shoulder, stretch it out. Your limbs start to shake and you close your eyes, drawing in deep breaths through your nose.

The room is silent, the air heavy with the musky scent of sex.

Your chest still heaves with the remains of your orgasm, bliss still spreading in your brain and your veins, making you feel like you are flying. Your heart is still racing, as you feel him moving again.

Blinking up at him, you can see him grabbing the gun.

"Don't", you say softly, voice coarse from screaming your lungs out in pleasure just moments ago, "Please, don't." You are not ready to scream yet again. Not ready to scream in pain, instead of pleasure.

John does not reply. He pulls the hammer back, checks the chamber - all with one hand.

"Kill him instead, please."

He freezes, eyes locking with yours. "Who?", he sounds just as exhausted as you. The wolf, tired out. The deer, bleeding, limping.

Call it Post Nut Clarity, call it Finally Taking Your Future In Your Own Hands, call it Emancipating Yourself. Call it Having Wrapped A Deadly Assassin Around Your Pinky.

You were not safer here. You never were. Just more isolated. Easier to locate.

Easier to kill.

Realization hits you like a blow to the head, your vision swimming.

See? I will not die today.

"My father. Kill him."

[hysteria-things]

can you do a nate fluff w/ some smut where it's him and the triplets little sister and theyre dating and he keeps wanting to be close to her in but they're in a video so he has to wait and the fans notice when the video comes out? this wasn't specific at all so sorry 😭

SNEAK AWAY (part one)

read part two here

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: soft dom!nate x sls!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: six of you are on a trip in hawaii! the only downside is that your triplet brothers don’t know you’re dating their best friend.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: SMUT, FLUFF, swearing, praising

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1,208

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: i need this man (biblically)

ALSO i have not forgotten about promise it’ll be continued i just want to get through some of my inbox first!

hawaii is a beautiful place. you truly never want to leave.

this trip is for madi’s eighteenth birthday, and you were practically begged to come. not only you, but nate came along, too.

the thing about nate is that you’re in love with him. literally.

you guys have been dating for roughly seven months, and nobody knows about it. it’s only a thing between you and him.

it genuinely feels nice for it to be you and his thing, but it does get annoying because you have to sneak around.

personally, you wouldn’t mind if your brothers never found out. they can’t kill you, but they will hawk nate and kill him.

glancing around the store, you fidget with the straps of your tank top. “nate, come on.”

he glances at you and then back at the condom boxes. the triplets are vlogging the trip thus far, and you guys walked away to come over to this section.

“nathan.”

he sighs, grabbing a box. “you worry about them too much, baby. we’re fine.”

“they can turn down one of these aisles any second and we’ll be busted.” you whisper-yell, pointing around the store.

he chuckles, leaning down to kiss your cheek. “they’re loud. i’m sure we’ll hear them coming before something bad happens.”

he continues to look at you and smiles.

you cross your arms, bumping a hip out. “what?”

“you’re cute when you’re mad.” he takes his finger and flicks it under your chin before the two of you walk over to the counter and place the condoms on it. you’re still looking around, but there are no same-faced people in sight.

the woman working eyes the both of you, a subtle smirk on her face before scanning the box and putting it in a bag.

he pays for it, and just as you guys turn around you hear voices. “hey guys.” nick greets, looking down at the bag. “what’d you get?”

“some deodorant. i forgot mine at home.” nate answers, nudging your arm softly.

the man-children are recording themselves playing with a ball in an open grass area by the hotel, you and madi watching them from afar. you sigh annoyingly, looking down at your watch.

“i’m going to go up to the room,” you yell, cupping your hands around your mouth so they can hear. they stop playing, focusing now on you. “need to go to the bathroom.”

they give you the okay, and before you know it you’re walking into the hotel suite.

you scroll on your phone, a few minutes passing by before the door opens. you grin widely, nate shutting the door behind him.

he comes over to you and snakes his arms around your waist to pull you close. “i missed you.”

you giggle. “you just saw me.”

sighing, he pulls you into a kiss. the way your mouths move in sync has you craving more. this is the first time you guys are alone, let alone a kiss that’s not a millisecond long.

he pulls away and lifts you, your legs dangling on his sides so he can take you to the bed he’s sharing with chris.

sorry in advance, chris.

he lays you down, kissing your jaw before taking off your shorts. “how much time do you think we have?” you ask.

he shrugs. “like i said before, they’re loud. we’ll hear them coming.”

you blush at his boston accent, one much stronger than yours and your brother’s. even though you’ve heard him talk a hundred times, it’ll always make your heart flutter.

he leaves wet kisses up your chest and neck while he pulls down his bottoms. his kisses finalize on your lips. “i love you a lot.”

you bite your lip, smiling. “i love you too.”

he reaches into the plastic bag he put on the nightstand and grabs the condom box. he rips off one of them and opens it, putting it on when he throws the wrapper somewhere on the ground.

your hands run along his back as he starts to thrust into you, low moans leaving your body.

nate’s thrusts are soft and slow, but it feels more intimate and comforting. you hate the phrase ‘making love’, but it seems like you’re doing just that.

he leans down to kiss you passionately again, his hands flat next to your head. he pulls away, his nose rubbing against yours.

breathing heavily, he moves his hips at a medium pace, going deeper inside of you and just about hitting your g-spot.

your sounds are more high-pitched now, with some profanities flowing through the air as well.

“na—” you begin but get cut off by a gasp once that spot is hit. you throw your head back and arch, balling your hands up to fists. “oh my god.”

“wait just a second, okay?” he rasps out, followed by a groan of his own. “you’re so fucking pretty.”

he hits inside you harder since he’s close to his orgasm and you whimper at how good it feels.

“i’m cumming, baby,” he says before jutting his hips one last time and releasing into the condom.

one last moan and you’re spilling around him. he pulls out, laying on top of your chest as you guys breathe in sync. “imagine they walk in right now?” he jokes.

you slap him on the chest. “better knock on wood, nathan, or we’re going to have some serious issues.”

madi’s birthday rolls around the next day, and it’s the late morning as you guys sit on the couch. your legs are crisscrossed as madi is on her knees.

the four boys are doing some activities outside before all of you go out later for birthday dinner, but you girls want to stay inside in the cool air.

face masks are on your faces, still dressed in pajamas as you guys also paint your nails. “i’m so happy to have another girl around. growing up with four older brothers was not easy.”

she looks up from her painting and gives you a toothy smile before she clears her throat. “can i ask you something?”

“sure.”

“are you sleeping with nate?”

you pause mid-stroke, now looking at the girl across from you.

you chuckle nervously, putting the brush back into the polish. “why do you ask?”

“by the way he ran after you yesterday when you were going back to the room, i knew something was up.”

you hesitate, but you have to tell at least one person. madi you can trust with anything. “not… entirely.”

“what?” her eyes bulge out of her sockets, not expecting you to admit it. “are you like in love with him or something?”

you try to hide your smile, but your face turning beat red gives you away.

her mouth hangs open. “no. way.”

“we’re dating.” you start. “we have been for about seven months. we started talking on my birthday last year, and it escalated from there.”

“omg!” she squeals. “this is the best birthday gift i’ve ever received and it doesn’t even involve me.”

you laugh. “please don’t tell my brothers. they’ll have a heart attack if they find out.”

she zips her lips and throws the key. “my lips are sealed, unlike your le—”

“quit it.”

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

@bunbunbl0gs @lexisecretaccx @thy-mission @angelic-sturniolos111 @sophssturn @mattsneezing @janiellasblog @blahbel668 @meg-sturniolo @hearts4chris @mattslolita @sturnbaby @imwetforyourmom @tillies33ssss @sturnifyed @mayhem-72 @ripmattitude @p1xieswrld @alorsxsturn @txssvx @sttzee @multiluvr @delilahprentiss @matthewsspecial @sturnolio-luvs @sturniolho @suga-daddy-69 @tworosesblackthorn @luckistar-posts @gnxosblog @junnniiieee07 @sturnioloslurps @tylerthecreatorsrealwife @flowerxbunnie @imaslut4kehlani @sturniolosandmoree @hertvgirl @whoreforchrissturniolo @r4iyaa @sturniolotriplettoplover @mattybswife @freshsturns @loverrsposts @saturncanyon

[natailiatulls07]

Pen Pals

Oscar Piastri x Female!Reader

Summary - Strangers to pen pals to lovers

Warning - Cuteness overload!

Reader works in redbull as a media girl

-

Hi there,

I'm Y/n and I'm excited to write you! I've had a few pen pals in the past but none have really worked out.

But I digress, maybe we should start by introducing each other with a few fun facts; I love formula one! I am and will always be a cat person, having two cats of my own and my favourite past time would have to be finding and trying new recipes which either works or becomes a disaster, there's no inbetween!

I look forward to hearing about you and hopefully we'll get on well with eachother!

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Dear Y/n,

It's lovely to meet you! This is my first time so go easy on me! I loved reading your letter and found it quite ironic as I am also a big fan of formula one.

A few facts about me is that my favourite film is 'ten things I hate about you' even though my friends always tease me for it. My favourite formula one driver would have to Oscar Piastri, next best rookie since Hamilton in my opinion.

Who's your favourite driver? And which team do you support??

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

What a coincidence! I would definitely agree that Oscar Piastri is a great driver, espercially after winning a sprint in his rookie year! But however, I am a Max Verstappen girl through and through so that also means I'm a redbull supporter as well. But I have respect for each and every other driver and team!

I don't see how your friends can tease you about your favourite film, it is a iconic late 90s film with a stunning cast! See picking a favourite film for me is hard! There's too many to pick from like paddington or pretty woman or even oceans eight!

So what gotten you into starting to write pen pal letters??

Yours truly,

Y/n

-

Hi Y/n,

Yeah with my job I find that alot of the people I talk to are very fake and greedy. I felt as those if I just starting writing letters to someone I could keep an anonymous identity. I hope you'll respect that, I'm sure you will!

Don't get me wrong I love my job, it's something I worked my whole life for. But it feels some what suffocating sometimes.

What about you? You said that you've had pen pals in the past but none have really worked out. I can't see why though, you seem lovely and have a great taste in sport!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

Understandable. I promise to remain respectful and I won't pry. I think a pen pal is the perfect way to step away from our lifestyles, it gives us someone that won't judge and you can realise to them.

I started writing to pen pal when I started college. I moved away from all my friends and had a rocky break up with my boyfriend at the time.

So from then I tried to find the best pen pal. But believe it or not, not many people start a pen pal to talk to others and hear others but to just talk about themselves.

A pen pal relationship should be equal and not one sided so often those relationship will have lasted just under two months. But lets not dwell on the past.

Wait important question now! What is your zodiac sign?? It tells you alot about a person.

Yours truly,

Y/n

Time skip a few months -

Hi Y/n!

Just read your last letter, loved your descriptive story about your now sister in laws hen party! I need to see those drunk photos immadiately.

My summer break just started, I have a lot of down time and not a lot to do. Please do you have any suggestions!? I have a feeling that I'm going to spend my summer moving between the gym, my apartment and my local store.

How did the date with that guy go? Was the trip to the jungle mini golf really worth it? I remember I went on a date once, we went to a nice restaurant and by the end of the night she was black out drunk. WORST DATE EVER!!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Dear Oscar,

I would give you suggestions on what to do this summer. However just like you, my sofa becomes me seconds home after my bed. Well actually every summer me and my bestfriend deciated a day to binge watching all the Harry Potters! We go all out, getting themed snacks and making a fort out of blankets.

Oh my god! The date was horrible! All he did was talk about his family riches and how 'successful' he is. And to add salt to the wound the place was filled with whiny children. NEVER AGAIN!

Also I've add the photos from the hen party to the envelope, non of them have my face in it but you can see that the bride is enjoying herself.

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

Photos in the envelope -

-

Hey Y/n,

Looks like the hen party looks as exciting as it sounded! Send my crograts to the bride and groom please.

I'm sorry your date went like that, I hate rich snobs who just glot and I work around them a lot lol! A girl like yourself doesn't deserve to be treated like that, you deserve fancy restaurents and meaningful date. I know I would give you the world.

Harry Potter marathon?? Mmm doesn't sound like a bad idea, I might rope my friend into then, he's british so he'll feel right at home!

Anyways I've been thinking...over these last few months I've grown to trust and adore our little letters back and forth. And I was wondering if you wanted to exchange numbers or something, idk.

I'm actually in Barcelona next week for work, but we can arrange something if you wanted. I just feel like I'd want to put a face to a name and exciting personality!

Yours truly,

Oscar

-

Hi Oscar,

The world huh? Thats a bold statement...

Wait that ironic! I'm also in Barcelona next week, we could meet somewhere. I can't really do Thursday through to Sunday, that's when my work really starts.

But yeah we can meet at some coffee shop or something, I seen some nice recommendations on tiktok recently.

I'm actually really excited for this! I've never had a pen pal that actually worked out, let alone wanted to meet me, so I feel lucky! Yeah these letters have been fun to write, it's like I've learnt so much from you. Thank you so much!

OMG did you watch the last f1 race in Montreal?! Oscar Piastri, Max Verstappen and Daniel Ricciardo podium! I'm sooo proud Piastri, he is slowly but surely moving up and competing with Verstappen for my fav driver! There I said it!

Yours truly,

Y/n <3

-

Dear Y/n,

Is Piastri growing on you Y/n?? Ooo that's exciting! But you wouldn't want to disappoint the current world champ, his no 1 fan is going to the dark side!

I would definitely give you the world! In a heart beat actually, you've single handedly made me feel normal and human again and I am forever thankful for that!

So you're working Thursday through Sunday...the exact days that formula one is active in the same city. I feel bad for you honestly, I'm sorry...

How about we meet up on the Wednesday? Should we meet at the three marks coffee?? I've heard great things about their coffee!

Meet me there at 1pm! I actually can't wait! See you then!

Yours truly,

Oscar <3

Outside the cafe -

Stood just outside the cafe, Y/n fiddled with her bag. She didn't know why she was so nervous, she would trust her pen pal Oscar with her deepest darkest secret if needs be.

Busy was an understatement. And Y/n knew fully well why, it was the reason why she was here this week. Formula one. Being one the media girls at redbull meant that she had to attend every race, not that she was complaining.

Just down the street was Oscar, walking head held high and a large grin on his face. He was beyond excited to meet the mysterious Y/n.

When they both began sending letters to each other, they agreed that neither would pry for surnames, addresses and other personal details.

The one thing they decided to do today was dress in all white, making it easy for each of them to pin point each other.

Oscar approached the cafe, his eyes scanning the area for a women dressed in all white. Until he spotted her, it was love at first sight!

He was obsessed with how she stylied her hair, and what she decided to dress like considering the white rule. "Y/n!" Calling out her name, as he made a quick walk towards her.

Y/n could hear her name being called and when she turned she came face to face with the one and only Oscar Piastri smiling down at her. A gasp broke through her lips, surprised that he was her pen pal.

"You're my pen pal?" She asked in disbelief. The Australian driver nodding his head excitedly. "You let me hype you up about your driving and didn't tell me?"

They both broke out into laughter. "Yep! And I loved it!" Oscars face held a cheeky grin, that Y/n instantly fell in love with.

-

After settling down in a small secluded table just outside the cafe, Y/n turned to Oscar. Her face now holding a cheeky grin. "Is now the best time to tell you that I work at Redbull as a media girl?"

Now it was Oscars turned to look shocked, shaking his head in disbelief.

"So you're telling me we've been right under eachothers noses the whole time!?" Neither expected that they were in reality quite close to each other whilst they were sending letters back and forth.

"What are the chances? Right?"

"Fancy leaving Redbull and join me in Papaya? maybe then Oscar Piastri will be your favourite driver..."

"Oscar!"

-

[loudstan]

Fuck the Police

Summary: Your ability to read people's minds is very useful for the police during interrogations. And that's how you meet Yuta, a werewolf accused of stealing a car.

Pairing: Werewolf! Yuta x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: Magic AU, werewolf AU, smut, Yuta being a menace

“How many times do I have to tell you? You got the wrong guys!” Yuta repeated after who knows how many times. He tried to be as calm as possible at first, reminding himself that these people were doing their job, but god was this dude dense.

“They saw you,” an equally exhausted policeman groaned. He had easily been arguing with the suspected criminal for an hour without getting any information from him. The younger boy next to him, Shotaro, wasn’t particularly helpful either, squirming nervously on his seat and nodding to everything the older man said.

“No one saw us because we were not there! Jesus, are you dumb?!” Yuta exclaimed, raising his voice.

The policeman tilted his head and stared down at Yuta. “If I were you, I would be very careful with how I talk to the police.”

“Fuck the police,” Yuta hissed, and at that minute the door opened and a beautiful young woman came in. Yuta’s mouth fell open. He wasn’t a fan of police uniforms but damn did it look good on you. Or maybe it wasn’t the uniform, but you? Because no matter how much the clothes covered, your curves were still visible and oh so much appreciated…

“Did you call for me, Officer Choi?” You asked your colleague.

“Sorry to bother you, officer L/N. I’m afraid I need some help interrogating these two,” he replied, standing up and pulling out an empty chair for you to sit like he often did. Damn, Yuta wished he had been the one to do that for you but he was handcuffed to the table.

You nodded and thanked him, before taking a seat in front of the two Japanese men. One of them kept looking at his own hands on the table and looked like he was about to cry. The other… was basically devouring you with his eyes.

You weren’t new to this type of scenario. Your ability to literally read people’s minds was often needed for interrogations, and you knew how to keep a straight face no matter how intimidating the criminal was. But this guy? He was fucking hot.

You cleared your throat and focused on your task instead. After reading the documents and hearing what you needed to know from Seungcheol Choi, you started the interrogation. “Did you steal this car?” You asked straight to the point, showing the two men in front of you a picture of the missing vehicle.

“…What if we did?” The guy who according to the document in front of you was called Yuta Nakamoto replied after a few seconds.

You couldn’t help the surprised look on your face, which wasn’t as surprised as Seungcheol’s; so this guy really argued with him for hours just to confess the moment you walked in? And the winning prize goes to Shotaro, whose eyes were wide in terror as he stared at Yuta.

“…So, did you?” You insisted.

“I mean, we could have,” Yuta shrugged.

“WE DIDN’T!” The younger, terrified man let his voice be heard for the first time, shaking his head. “We really didn’t!”

You looked into Shotaro’s eyes and concentrated on reading his thoughts. He was being honest. But then what was the other guy’s deal? You tried to read Yuta’s mind and regretted it immediately; all his thoughts were focused on you, your face…

That mouth, what pretty sounds can it make?

You sat up straight and tried not to blush too hard.

“Please, concentrate on the question, Mr. Nakamoto,” you said through gritted teeth. “Are you innocent?”

“I’m far from that,” he replied, allowing his eyes to travel down your body. Next to him, Shotaro groaned.

“This is the worst possible moment to flirt! I don’t wanna go to jail!” He hissed at Yuta in Japanese.

“We’ll go to jail if we have to,” the older replied firmly.

“We literally don’t have to! We didn’t do anything wrong!”

“Shotaro, just trust me.”

“ No!” the younger replied. “ You’re not thinking straight because you’re horny.”

“I’m not just horny, pup,” Yuta chuckled, his eyes sparkling like never before. “I have just met my forever mate. I imprinted.”

“HUH?!” Shotaro yelled.

On the opposite side of the table, Seungcheol and you stared at each other and then back to the wolves who suddenly seemed very excited about something.

“What’s going on?” Seungcheol mumbled.

“I don't know! They’re thinking too fast and in a language that I don’t understand!” You hissed back.

“Hey!” Seungcheol yelled, his authoritative tone catching everyone’s attention. “Did you do it or not?!”

“Maybe,” Yuta said.

“No!” Shotaro said at the same time.

 And then they went back to arguing with each other.

“That one seems to be honest,” you told Seungcheol, pointing at Shotaro. “But the other guy’s head is a mess, so I can’t be sure…”

Seungcheol let out a frustrated sigh. His job could be so exhausting sometimes. 

 And then he suddenly smirked, his eyes shining excitedly like he just had the best idea ever. 

“Could you please get us something to drink? I bet these men are very thirsty,” he said, giving you a pointed look that lets you know immediately what type of drink he was talking about. The serum of truth wasn’t something your department would normally use. They carried out regular interrogations by just talking to suspects and, if it was really necessary, they would call you to read their minds. But this interrogation wasn’t going anywhere even with you there, and neither you nor Seungcheol was getting paid extra hours.

So you came back to the interrogation room after a few minutes, carrying a tray with four glasses of water, making sure to remember which ones had the serum and placing them in front of the two men who were giving you and Seungcheol a headache. They thanked you, and Yuta was the first to drink it absentmindedly while still talking to his friend like two policemen weren’t there waiting for them to finally confess, and then he grimaced. He put his glass down and grabbed Shotaro’s hand when he was about to drink his own. Shotaro gave him a confused look but Yuta turned his attention to you.

“What a naughty girl, officer,” he purred, licking his lips. “Making regular citizens drink the serum of truth.”

“It’s legal in this state,” Seungcheol answered quickly, making Yuta’s attention turn to him instead.

“Not without consent,” Yuta scoffed. “You tricked us into drinking it.”

“We didn’t,” you said. “The glass simply was on the table and you took it by choice. We didn’t say a word to you.”

Yuta’s eyes were on you again, and his lips curled into a satisfied smirk. “God, I love a smart woman,” he said. “You’re so fucking attractive.”

“Watch it,” Seungcheol hissed in a protective manner, while you tried your best to remain unaffected in spite of your ears and cheeks turning hot.

“I thought you wanted me to be honest,” Yuta challenged. “Well, I have no choice now, so ask me anything.”

You cleared your throat and tried to start the interrogation again. “Did you–”

“I imprinted on you,” Yuta stated before you had the chance to finish the question. Next to him, Shotaro sighed tiredly and rested his forehead on the table. The situation kept getting worse, and the chances of him not sleeping in a cell tonight were slim.

“W-wha– That’s not what I was gonna….” you stuttered, confused. You scanned the documents in your hands again, just to see that the photocopy of this man’s ID indeed stated that he was a werewolf. “What?” you repeated dumbly.

“I said I imprinted on you. My human side wants to date the fuck out of you. My wolf wants to mate with you. Should I go into detail –?”

“No!” you exclaimed, not able to hide your nervousness anymore. “I…I know what imprinting means,” you mumbled.

“Well, shit…” Seungcheol murmured next to you. “Y/N,” he called your name softly and then corrected himself when he saw Yuta’s eyes sparkle at the discovery of your first name. “I mean, officer L/N, you don’t have to continue with this interrogation. I’ll take care of it, just go home.”

Don’t go, Yuta’s pleading voice said. He hadn’t spoken. It was his thoughts resonating in the back of your head. 

You looked at him, and he seemed to be breathing heavily compared to before. His intense eyes were still glued to you, but now they were as red and shiny as a ruby.

Shotaro’s whole body suddenly tensed and he lifted his head to stare at Yuta cautiously. 

And then someone knocked on the door and entered the room, interrupting the tense moment. 

“We caught the culprits,” one of your colleagues said. “We found the missing car too, so these two are free to go,” he added, pointing at the wolves.

Shotaro’s soul seemed to come back to his body and he quickly addressed his pack brother. “You hear that? We’ll be home soon! Hold it just for a bit longer!”

Yuta grunted but nodded. He had been through his rut plenty of times before and he was usually very good at controlling it, but it was really fucking hard when you were right in front of him.

“Is he in rut?!” Seungcheol asked incredulously. “You should have said something sooner!” he exclaimed, standing up and walking around the table to uncuff them. But when he stood next to Yuta and saw the way he was eyeing you like he was ready to pounce on you, he hesitated. “Officer Lee, please take Officer L/N home immediately. Make sure she’s safe,” he instructed. 

The other officer nodded quickly and waited for you to follow him, but you didn’t move from your seat.

 You were looking back into Yuta’s eyes in a daze. You didn’t want to leave. It was like he was luring you in with all the romantic and dirty promises he was making to you in his head. You could hear every thought he was having right now, every little fantasy; and you were the protagonist of all of them.

“Officer L/N!” Seungcheol’s voice brought you back to reality. “Go.”

You let out a heavy sigh and stood up quickly, trying to block Yuta’s thoughts from entering your head. 

Yuta’s eyes followed you as you left the room and then he grunted, scrunching his eyes closed. 

Seungcheol, who had just finished uncuffing Shotaro, waited until he heard the car start and drive away before he freed Yuta too. 

“You have outstanding self-control,” the officer praised the wolf, who was panting on the chair, burying his claws on the wooden table. “I know you could have broken those handcuffs easily if you wanted to… Oh, and  I apologize for the misunderstanding.”

“If you’re really sorry, tell me Y/N’s work schedule,” Yuta grunted in pain, allowing Shotaro to help him get up from the chair. 

“I can’t do that,” Seungcheol said, giving him a sympathetic smile. Yuta seemed like a decent guy, but that didn’t mean he was entitled to have you. “But I can at least give you guys a ride home, let’s go.”

When you got home, you felt incredibly drained. Mind reading was an activity that often took a lot of your strength, but also Yuta’s thoughts had been so intense, he made you weak on the knees.

So your name is Y/N? That’s lovely, just like you.

I want you to be the first thing I see every morning.

Make you breakfast in bed, you won’t have to lift a finger.

Make love to you until you see stars—

You shuddered. You had found him attractive the moment your eyes landed on him, but your expectations for a partner were…different. You were hoping to end up with a simple office worker who had a stable routine and live a calm life together. And Yuta, with his leather jacket, talking back to the police and being half animal was far from what you wanted to attract.

There was no way you would accept his “confession”… but your heart skipped a beat as you thought of him and your groin pulsated when you remembered his unsolicited dirty thoughts invading your head.

I would let you step all over me.

Use me however you want.

“Fuck,” you sighed and plopped down on your bed. 

But then it will be my turn.

And I can go all night, officer…

Unconsciously, your hand made its way down your stomach and into your panties. You were soaking.

You knew you shouldn’t.

I could make you feel so fucking good…

But maybe just a little wouldn’t hurt, right? Plus, it’s not like anyone would ever know, and you were so hot and bothered, and his voice wouldn’t leave your head. Just once. Just once and then you would never think about him again, you told yourself, sighing in relief and arching your back.

“Why are the police outside our house?” Ten asked, looking out the window.

“Don’t look at me,” Chenle shrugged, not even bothering to pause the videogame he was playing with Jisung.

“Oh, I wasn’t looking at you,” Ten assured him, crossing his arms and glaring at Haechan.

“Wha-?” Haechan almost choked on the cereal he was munching straight out of the box. “Why me?! I didn’t do anything!”

“It wouldn’t be the first time. You called the police for absolutely no reason last month.”

“No reason?” Haechan gasped. “No reason?! Renjun was trying to kill me!”

“Please, I barely touched you,” Renjun rolled his eyes at him.

“Did you say the police?!” Yangyang suddenly ran into the living room, pale and distressed. 

“...Yangyang, what did you do?!” Ten asked in panic as he heard knocking on the door.

“NOTHING!” Yangyang yelled, eyes darting quickly from the main door to his room. “Hyung, please don’t open the door just yet. I need 5 minutes–no, 3 minutes–”

“Good evening, officer. Can I help you?” Taeil greeted a stoic-looking policeman at the door. He had dismissed the entire conversation and made his way to the door to open it, tired of the insistent knocking. 

“Good evening, I was wondering if–,” The officer spoke only to be interrupted by an agitated young wolf.

“THEY ARE JUST PLANTS!” Yangyang defended himself from the inexistent accusation, causing all eyes to land on him.

Officer Seungcheol Choi glared at him in silence, before deciding that he really did not care what the hell he was talking about. His shift had finished hours ago and he was not getting paid enough for the headache he had right now. “I was wondering if Yuta Nakamoto and Shotaro Osaki live here.”

“Yes,” Taeil replied quickly. “W-why? Did something happen to them?”

“They are both fine,” Seungcheol said. “One of them entered his rut at the police station so I brought them here,” he said, pointing at the car where Shotaro was opening the door, allowing them to see Yuta lying on his side in the back seat.

“Shit,” Taeil murmured, rushing towards the car, followed by Ten. 

The other members who were in the living room quickly gathered at the door to see what was going on while Seungcheol helped Shotaro get Yuta out of the car and into Ten and Taeil’s arms.

Yuta laughed weakly. “Why would the weakest members come to my rescue?”

“You’re in no position to complain,” Ten chided, circling Yuta’s waist with his arm. 

“The big, strong ones are all out, so it’s either us or the kids,” Taeil added, ignoring the complaints from the youngest members yelling they were not kids. 

They thanked the policeman and dragged Yuta into the house, managing to make him drink some water before giving him some privacy.

“That’s weird,” Renjun hummed when he came back to the living room after giving Yuta some suppressants. “Yuta hyung is usually very careful when it comes to his cycle. He always makes sure he’s home before his rut hits.”

“Unless…” Ten’s lips morphed into a teasing smile. “Someone triggered it.”

“No way!” Taeil raised his eyebrows and let out a little laugh of disbelief. “Did he find…?”

Shotaro, who was lying down on the sofa, looked at them with tired eyes and nodded. 

“He imprinted?!” Renjun asked. “It’s happening so fast…Everyone’s finding their mate…”

“Don’t be sad, Renjunie,” Haechan cooed, hugging him.

“I’m not–,” he responded, trying to push him away.

“You’ll find yourself a kinky bad bitch who puts you in your place—”

“Shut the fuck up!” Renjun snapped at Haechan, slapping his back hard several times until he whined and apologized. 

“What is she like?” Chenle asked absentmindedly while resuming his videogame with Jisung.

“I don’t know much about her but she works for the police,” Shotaro replied vaguely.

“Okay. Hot,” Ten approved. 

“I fail to see how that’s hot,” Renjun refuted.

“Uh, hello? The uniform? The cuffs?” Ten explained very slowly like he was talking to an idiot and Taeil laughed, shaking his head from side to side.

“You hear that, Jisungie?” Haechan teased the youngest, who was trying very hard to pretend he didn’t hear him. “Handcuffs, like the ones I gifted you. Have you tried them on your mate yet?”

Jisung froze and his character on screen died right in that moment. Chenle laughed blatantly and celebrated his victory, giving Haechan a high five while Jisung quickly excused himself to go to the bathroom. 

Renjun frowned. “You know, one day Jisung will finally notice he’s grown to be taller and stronger than you and he’ll kick your ass. And I’ll enjoy it very much.”

“Just say you like my ass and go,” Haechan winked and quickly ran away, with Renjun chasing after him with murderous intent. 

“Why were you at the police station anyways?” Taeil continued the conversation like nothing happened.

“They mistook us for someone else. Thought we stole a car or something,” Shotaro mumbled, pouting cutely. “And then Yuta hyung’s brain malfunctioned when he saw his mate and tried to confess to a crime he didn’t commit just to buy time with her.”

Chenle, Taeil, and Ten burst out laughing. They would make sure to tease Yuta about that later since he always prided himself on being cool and collected.

He was not cool and collected at all in his room, fucking into his fist and biting his lip. All he could think about was fucking the rut out of his system so he could go out and see you again. And then fuck you. He was sure you would feel way better than his hand; tight and hot around him as your tits bounced each time he thrusts inside you. He didn’t even need to picture you naked; he was more than okay with unbuttoning your blouse and riling your skirt up, taking you while still wearing your uniform and not caring if the entire police station saw. If you blushed just like you did when he confessed he imprinted on you, you would look so fucking cute. And if only you said his name a bit louder… He wasn’t a fan of people calling him by his last name, but the way you had called him ‘Mr. Nakamoto’...

“FUCK!” he grunted, cumming so hard that some drops landed on his face. His body finally relaxed on the messy bed sheets and he let out a breathy laugh. He was mostly laughing at himself; he had never been so desperate to cum before and it had been so intense he was sure he stopped breathing for almost an entire minute. If he felt like this just to the thought of you, then he knew actually touching you would be the end of him. 

It was 4 days later that you saw Yuta Nakamoto again. He was casually leaning against the wall outside the police station like he owned the place.

“Hi, beautiful,” he called for you, smiling happily and approaching you.

“It’s Officer L/N to you,” you hissed, but couldn’t hide the blush on your ears at the memory of what you had done alone in the darkness while thinking of him.

“Officer L/N,” he corrected himself, biting back a smirk like he found the whole situation very amusing. “I wanted to see you.”

“I’m working,” you said. “Unless you have an emergency that the police can help with, you shouldn’t be here.”

Instead of sulking, he smiled.

So if I make an emergency happen I can come here?

“Don’t!” you yelled too quickly when you heard his thoughts.

His smirk grew wider.

I knew it. You can read minds.

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You froze. Your ability was precious to the police so you were instructed to keep it a secret. As for your personal life, many friends got awkward around you when they found out you could read their minds in the past, so you had learned to control your expressions and behavior so people couldn’t even suspect you knew what was going on in their heads. People didn’t like having someone in their heads. It was invasive, embarrassing,...

“Perfect,” Yuta said out loud this time. “That will make things easier.”

But Yuta didn’t seem to mind it.

“W-what?” you stuttered.

“You’ll know I mean everything I say.”

“...So what?”

“So you can trust me.”

“Trust you?” you scoffed and started walking away, but he quickly followed your steps and walked next to you.

“Can’t build a relationship without trust, can you?” he said casually. 

“There’s no relationship between us.” 

“Yet.”

“Listen,” you stopped right before the gate and turned to look at him. “You’re not my type.”

“Too bad. You’re totally my type,” he countered. 

“Sounds like a you problem,” you said between gritted teeth. 

Yuta laughed and the sound was endearing. “I’m afraid it’s very much your problem too.”

You gulped. “Meaning…?”

“I’m a man who knows what he wants,” he said staring at your lips.

And I don’t stop until I get it.

You glared at him, hoping he didn’t see the way your body shivered.

You know what I want right now?

You didn’t even need to read his mind to know the answer. The way he was staring at your lips and closing the distance between you told you all you needed to know.

“Officer L/N,” Seungcheol’s voice called for you. “All good over here?”

Thank god. Seungcheol had arrived to start his shift as well.

“All good,” you grumbled as Seungcheol stood in between you two, facing Yuta.

“How are you doing? Is your rut over?” Seungcheol asked.

Yuta nodded, his eyes still finding you behind your colleague’s figure. “Yeah, I’m fine now.”

“That’s good,” Seungcheul replied politely. “It was nice to see you but I can’t let you past this gate unless you have an emergency to report.”

“Right…” Yuta sighed. 

Gotta cause some trouble first then, huh?

You glared at him over Seungcheol’s shoulder and shook your head. Even if Yuta couldn’t read minds he knew you didn’t want him to do that.

Unless you let me see you after your shift…

You rolled your eyes and got ready to walk away.

Got it. It’s been a while since the last time I broke into private property. I’ll see you after–

“My shift finishes at 8,” you blurted out suddenly. Or at least for Seungcheol, it was sudden; he had no idea about the mental conversation you had just had with Yuta. 

“Great,” Yuta chuckled. “I’ll pick you up then,” he declared, before waving both of you goodbye.

“Uh…” Seungcheol hesitated as you two entered the police station. “Are you two…?

“No,” you said firmly. “I’ll just meet him once and tell him I’m not interested.”

“...You’re not interested?”

“Of course not!” you exclaimed and got irritated when Seungcheol just stared at you blankly. “He’s definitely not what I look for in a man.”

“You could have just told him that earlier.”

“I did! He’s just so stubborn–”

“So instead you agreed to go on a date with him?” Seungcheol scoffed, mocking you. “Sure, not interested at all…”

“It is not a date.”

“Mhm…”

“Seungcheol!”

“Whatever you say, Y/N,” he winked at you, before going into his office.

Time went by incredibly fast during your shift and you became more anxious as the clock got close to announcing 8PM. You collected your stuff slowly, kind of hoping if you took long enough Yuta would get bored and leave (if he even was out there waiting), but when you dragged your feet to the main gate you were met with his easygoing expression, like you hadn’t made him wait for almost half an hour. 

“Tough day, officer?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, as you can tell I’m a busy person. Just go ahead and say what you have to say.”

“Sure,” Yuta said offering you a…helmet? “We should get going then.”

It was then that you noticed that this time, instead of the wall, he was leaning against a motorcycle. You looked at the helmet in your hands and then at Yuta who was swiftly getting on the motorcycle and patting the seat behind him, indicating for you to follow. 

“Absolutely not,” you deadpanned.

“I thought you were in a hurry,” Yuta feigned confusion.

“Let’s just talk here.”

“Oh, alright, if you don’t mind your coworkers hearing that you triggered my rut and I spent days thinking about–”

 You shrieked and quickly covered his mouth with your palms.

—you. I spent all these days thinking about you, and I know you’ve thought about me too.

 You blushed and looked around. Some of your coworkers were leaving and waved at you in a friendly manner. You waved back. This was not something you wanted them to hear. So you put on the damn helmet and sat behind Yuta, trying to keep some distance between your bodies.

“You need to hold onto me,” Yuta said when he noticed your hands barely holding onto the edge of the seat behind you.

“You wish,” you spat back.

“I do,” he agreed. “But also, you’ll fly off otherwise. I don’t want you injured on our first date.”

“This is not a date—” you wanted to argue with him but as soon as you heard him starting the engine you panicked and your arms surrounded his torso automatically. 

Yuta’s body tensed when he felt your body so close to his and then he released a long breath.

So warm…

You barely hear his thoughts over the sound of the motorcycle, but you were thinking the exact same thing: he was so warm. You gripped his clothes tightly as the vehicle started moving.

Just like that. Don’t let go.

You tried to let the wind hitting the helmet drown the sound of his thoughts but they were so loud, by the time you arrived at your destination you were dizzy, a blushing mess and your heart was beating hard and fast against his back.

“Officer L/N?” you heard him call your name. “We’re here. You can let go now.”

…Or don’t. I don’t mind staying like this.

Immediately, you pulled away from him and jumped out of the bike, your hands flying to fix your skirt which had ridden up your thighs, ignoring Yuta’s charming (annoying) laugh. 

“What is this place?” you asked, looking around. 

There was no one around besides Yuta and you. All you saw was the road, the forest and… a view of the whole city. You gasped out loud; even if it was a small city, with no big skyscrapers, the city lights still shone like a kaleidoscope contrasting the dark sky. You had asked to be transferred to work and live in a small town, away from all the noise and stress that the capital city had made you deal with. Since you moved to this town, you were glad that crime was low, people (humans, and non-human creatures alike) were mostly kind and you had a calm life…but you hadn’t paid proper attention to the beauty this city had to offer. 

Speechless you turned around to look at Yuta, whose dark eyes were reflecting the city view. But he was looking at you, leaning forward while still sitting on his bike, his head resting on his arms lazily.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. 

And that was exactly what you were thinking about him. But you wouldn’t say it out loud. 

“I asked you where we are,” you said firmly.

“My favorite place,” the werewolf said as he reached for the rear suitcase and unpacked whatever he had brought with him. “Cool view, huh?”

“Why did you bring me here?” you asked him in an irritated tone, not wanting to admit that the view was the most beautiful thing you had seen in a while.

“To spend time with you,” he replied as if it was obvious, as he laid down a blanket on the grass and placed several food containers on it.

“Is this…a picnic?”

“Yes.”

 That was surprisingly…sweet. Not something you would expect from the werewolf in the leather jacket who rides a motorcycle around town. You kind of hoped your future partner would take you on cute little dates like this one. But Yuta was not in those plans.

“Nakamoto.”

“Hm?” he looked up at you, giving you his full attention. Your heart beat a bit faster when your eyes met but you had to stand your ground.

“I’m not going to date you.”

He narrowed his eyes, a glint of amusement in them. Then he hummed and went back to arranging the food. “You already are.”

“Excuse me?”

“You know I’m interested in you, yet you let me pick you up from work and take you for a ride at night. Now we are alone in a place that looks like a movie scene, about to eat food I made for you. Tell me that’s not a date.”

Well it did sound like a date when he said it like that, but you never agreed to that. “I’m going back.”

“Oh, yeah? You gonna walk all the way back to town in those heels?” he challenged you. “There are no other cars around the area, and phone reception sucks up here.”

 You looked at your phone and confirmed that you wouldn’t be able to get in touch with anyone. The place looked deserted too. “You’re a psychopath.”

Yuta laughed out loud. This was the loudest and most cheerful you had heard him laugh before and it was quite cute how he threw his head back and his mouth opened wide, displaying his perfect smile without trying to look elegant at all. His laugh sounded so pure.

“I haven’t heard that one before,” he admitted when he calmed down, still giggling a little. “I didn’t plan to trap you here. I just wanted to take you somewhere nice and get to know you better, and I thought you might be hungry so I prepared something to eat. That’s all.”

As if waiting for the sign, your stomach growled loudly. How embarrassing. 

“When was the last time you ate?” Yuta asked, a hint of concern noticeable in his voice.

“Uh, not sure…” you admitted. “Our shifts are a bit unpredictable sometimes.”

Yuta sighed. “Just eat with me? I’ll take you back right after. I promise. You can read my mind if you want.”

You rolled your eyes but let out a tired laugh. You didn’t even need to read the mind of someone who was such an open book. You finally sat down in front of him and looked at the food in front of you. “So, what do we have here?”

The Japanese straightened his back and started presenting you with a variety of food. “So, some of these may have gone a bit cold by now but we have here some yakisoba, this is sushi that should be eaten at room temperature so this is a perfect time… or if you are a vegetarian, you can try vegetable fried rice…or if you’re not into any of this stuff I prepared some sandwiches,” he rambled, looking a bit nervous for the first time since you met him.

“Did you make all this yourself?” you asked him. 

“Yeah,” Yuta bit his lip nervously. “I’m not a chef but it should be edible.”

“You could have just bought some snacks.”

“I guess I could have but… I know that when people work a lot they end up eating just whatever and I wanted you to have a proper home-cooked meal…”

Another surprisingly sweet gesture from Yuta Nakamoto. It was so thoughtful and it probably took him hours in the kitchen. For you. Well, you were starving so why not give it a try?

 You reached for the utensils he had placed in front of you and tried food from the container closest to you, under his expecting eyes.

It was delicious. If he wasn’t a chef then he should consider becoming one.

“...Not bad,” you commented like it wasn’t the best meal you’d had in months. 

Yuta bit back a smile and started eating too. He didn’t miss the way your eyes sparkled and you almost sighed when trying his food, so he was incredibly proud of himself. 

The more you ate the more you let your guard down, allowing Yuta to ask you simple questions about your hobbies, life, and general preferences. He also answered any question you had for him quite openly. 

He kept his promise and took you home after. He didn’t try anything on you, but he did show up every Friday evening to pick you up from your shift. No matter how annoyed you were or pretended to be, each time you showed less resistance to getting on the bike, and you had stopped making plans for Friday night, knowing he would be waiting for you. Not that you would tell anyone this, but you were counting the minutes for your shift to end to see him again.

You enjoyed your time together until it was time to address the elephant in the room.

“This was fun…” you trailed off.

“But?” Yuta asked, knowing you were about to find an excuse.

“I have…plans, you know?” you sighed. “A reckless werewolf I met in the interrogation room imprinting on me is not part of my plans at all.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t supposed to be interrogated in the first place,” he said. “But I’m glad it happened.”

You sighed again. “You can’t give me what I want.”

“How do you know that?” he murmured. He was looking at you, but you didn’t dare meet his eyes, looking at the city view instead.

“I want calm. I want domestic,” you replied, frustrated and a bit tired.

“But you also want me,” he said.

“Nakamoto…”

“Can we stop calling each other by our last names?” he was starting to sound frustrated too.  “We’re not strangers, Y/N.” 

 He was right. That was just your childish way of keeping some distance between you two. 

“...Can you drop me home now?” you finally asked, not wanting to continue this conversation. 

 Yuta glared at you. 

Won’t you even look at me?

You didn’t. 

He scoffed.

As you wish.

The ride back was silent. You tried to get into his head and hear whatever he was thinking about, but he was thinking in his native language, blocking you indirectly. Since you met, he had tried to think in a language you would understand, giving you complete access to his head and heart, but you had hurt him. You didn’t get to read his thoughts if you weren’t capable of opening yourself up to him in return. 

“Thank you,” you grumbled when you arrived at your destination, giving him the helmet back.

“You’re welcome,”  he said dryly. 

“You don’t have to pick me up from work next week,” you added.

“Gotcha,” he simply said, like he didn’t care. It angered you, but it was what you wanted, wasn’t it? So you didn’t say anything else and watched him leave. For the first time, he didn’t wait until you got into your house.

Did you regret it as soon as you reached your bed? Yes. Your chest felt tight and your eyes stung like you wanted to cry. 

Would you do something to fix it? No. Because you were a coward, afraid of such an unconventional man, no matter how kind and lovely he was, approaching you and telling you he wanted to stay with you for life.

And he indeed didn’t pick you up the next week. When you finished your shift and left the station, no one was waiting there for you. Why would there be? You had told the poor guy to leave you alone, and he did. Perfect.

Just perfect.

But for some reason, you still cried yourself to sleep that night and woke up in the morning to a call from Seungcheol. 

“Hello?” you groaned, rubbing your eyes sleepily. 

“Hey, Y/N, no time for small talk,” Seungcheol said from the other side of the line. “I know you don’t work today but I really really think you should come.”

“W-why? What’s wrong?” you asked, very confused, but all these years of work had your body getting out of bed and getting ready automatically.

“Don’t panic,” he said now in a more calming tone. “What matter’s that no one got hurt–”

“What happened?!”

“Just come to my office!” he said before he hung up the phone.

You basically run to work, your feet hurting on your heels, your uniform all wrinkled, and your hair a mess, not even bothering to tie it up and look appropriate. You nervously greeted your coworkers and went straight into Seungcheol’s office.

“Seungcheol–”

“Finally!” he sighed, letting you in and locking the door behind him. “It’s gonna be okay, nobody else knows–”

“Know what?! Can you please give me some context?” you hissed nervously.

Seungcheol inhaled. “Do you know where your boyfriend was last night?”

“My what?!”

“Your boyfriend?” he repeated, now sounding as confused as you.  “The Japanese one?”

“He’s not my boyfriend–”

“What do you mean? You guys have been dating for— it doesn’t matter. Just take a look at this,” he said, pointing at his laptop screen.

You got closer to his desk and watched the screen where security footage of some type of store was playing. You were about to ask what all this was about when you saw a familiar face entering the store and going through the product shelves urgently. 

“Yuta…” you whispered. 

In the video, the man opened a few jars, straight up drank the content of some of them, and emptied others in a bottle he was carrying. After a few minutes, he made a pained expression and bent down on the floor before he passed out. 

 You were holding your breath, your own body hurting at seeing him like that. Seungcheol skipped some parts of the video until someone who worked in the store discovered Yuta, who stood up and left, looking disoriented. 

“This is the apothecary near the beach,” Seungcheol said. “The store owner won’t present charges because he didn’t actually steal. Apparently, he left cash on the counter for the stuff he took. The door wasn’t damaged either. It’s like he has experience breaking in.”

“W-why did he…. Oh, god,” you sighed. 

“I checked his house. His pack hasn’t seen him since yesterday,” Seungcheol continued. “Any idea where he could be?”

“No…wait! Maybe—... I’m not sure,” you answered vaguely. 

“Do you want me to go with you?” Seungcheol asked.

“No,” you said more firmly this time. “I think I’ll be fine by myself.”

“Okay,” Seungcheol agreed, passing you the patrol car keys. He could tell that something had happened between the two of you and that he should let you solve things by yourself. “But let me know of any updates. If you can’t find him by the end of the day his pack will file a missing report.”

“I’ll find him,” you assured him. He had to be at that place. The place where you had most of your dates. So that’s where you went.

And there he was, sitting on the grass and looking at the sunset over the city, in the same place where you had the most fun and heart whelming moments the last couple of months. You managed to send one last message to Seungcheol letting him know you had found Yuta before your phone service abandoned you.

 Yuta looked at you getting off the car over his shoulder and went back to look into the sunset.

“Good evening, Officer L/N,” he said sarcastically. 

You grimaced. “Are you okay?”

“No.”

You sighed and sat down next to him. He didn’t spare you a glance, just reached for his  thermos bottle and filled his cup with tea.

“What happened yesterday?” you asked.

“Many things…”

“Okay…,” you nodded. “Why did you break into the apothecary?” 

“I was in pain,” he said, grabbing another little cup from beside him and filling it with tea before offering it to you. 

“What type of pain?” You accepted the cup, glad that he was somehow communicating with you. “Are you sick?”

“No, not sick,” he said raising his cup towards yours as if there was anything to cheer to.

“Then why were you in pain?” You clinked your cup with his and drank the tea, shuddering at the contrast between the warm beverage and the cool breeze caressing your face.

“My wolf was acting up…” he murmured, refilling both your cups. “I think he got used to seeing you every Friday and when it became late at night and didn’t have you near, he thought that starting an early rut would make me go find you,” he laughed bitterly and drank some more. “I really wanted to see you, but you told me not to, so I went to buy something for the pain instead but it was closed. It really fucking hurt so I entered anyways…Well, let me finish my tea before you arrest me.”

“You’re not under arrest. The owner won’t present charges,” you said. “I was just worried about you.”

“Why?” he asked, looking at you drink your second cup of tea.

“Because I care about you,” you admitted almost too easily. 

“Then why do you push me away?”

“I don’t know. I guess I’m kinda scared,” you said. “This whole imprinting thing…I didn’t see it coming.”

“That’s valid,” he sighed. “Did you at least enjoy hanging out with me?”

“It was the highlight of my week,” you giggled. “I loved it.”

“I’m glad,” he murmured before he winced in pain.

“What’s wrong?” you asked worriedly, placing a hand on his back. You could feel the heat radiating through his shirt.

“Told you,” he groaned. “Early rut.”

“You–...you’re in rut right now?!”

“Were you not listening earlier?” he laughed half-heartedly.

“I was! I just didn’t— fuck, okay, let’s take you home,” you said urgently, pulling his arm and making him stand up.

He let you guide him to the car and get him in the back seat without resistance. He focused on your face instead, like you were fascinating to look at and he had all the time in the world (which wasn’t the case; you had to get him back to town as soon as possible).

 “Where are we going?” He asked tiredly as he let you lay him down.

“The hospital,” you said firmly. “Or wherever you can take care of your… uh, state,” you pointed at his body vaguely and then you gulped. 

Did he really need to look this good in such a critical moment? Leaning on his forearms, with his legs slightly spread, his messy hair sticking to his forehead and nape, and his lidded eyes scanning your body. 

“I like your hair today,” he casually said.

You clicked your tongue.“I didn’t have much time to get ready.”

“You look so hot. I want you so bad…”

You stopped trying to push his feet in the car and looked up to meet his reddened eyes. 

Come here.

“I-...I have to drive,” you stuttered, trying to push him back when he leaned toward you. 

 He grabbed your arm before you could make your way to the driver's seat. 

“We’re not gonna make it,” he simply mumbled. “It’s a long way to town…I won’t be able to resist you.”

“Then don’t,” you said simply and then you gasped, your hand flying to cover your mouth. Did you really just say that?

“Is that so?” Yuta purred while his fingers caressed your arm. “Officer L/N wants me to fuck her?”

You rolled your eyes, ready to tell him that you were not interested but instead what exited your mouth was: “Of course I do– shit!”

Now you covered your mouth with both hands. What the hell? What were you saying?

You looked at Yuta with wide eyes, but he didn’t seem surprised; if anything he looked smug. 

Wait…

The tea.

“Did you put something in the tea?” you asked him angrily.

“Serum of truth,” he said shamelessly, pulling your body closer to his firmly so now you were in the car too, lying on top of him, your hands resting on the door behind his head.

“W-what?!” you shrieked. So that’s why you were saying everything you felt out loud. “Where did you get it? It’s not available in any store–”

“I made it myself,” he said, as his hands caressed your face. “Last night in the apothecary.”

“Y-you!” now you were furious. “Regular citizens can’t administrate the serum of truth. Ever!”

“What are you gonna do about it, hmm?” he cooed. “Call the police?”

“Uugh,” you groaned. You hated the guy. Except you didn’t. 

“There’s nothing wrong with wanting me, officer,” Yuta assured you. “I want you too. I have had the best orgasms since I started thinking about you when touching myself.”

“Shut up!” you yelped, now covering his mouth with your hands.

Thought about fucking you in this skirt. 

Giving it to you so hard you would drop the fucking attitude.

“Oh my god,” you whined.

Have you thought about me too? You looked away. Embarrassed. 

I bet you have. I could smell how wet you were the day we met.

…Shit I can smell it now too.

“Nakamoto,” you warned him but it sounded like a plea.

He hummed against your hands, deciding there was no reason for him not to use his hands on you too. He grabbed the back of your thighs and pulled them to have you sitting on his crotch in a swift motion. You gasped as your skirt rode up and you could feel his hard member pulsating against you in spite of the remaining layers of clothing between you.

Did it feel good? 

Touching yourself with these beautiful hands, imagining it was me?

He kissed your palms and fingers lovingly like he was praising them for a job well done.

“S-so good…” you admitted in a tiny voice.

Yuta groaned, sending vibrations to your hands and then biting your finger playfully, finally making you release his mouth with a yelp.

“That should have been me touching you,” he grumbled, grabbing your hips and pressing you against his hard. “Why play hard to get if you were getting off to me anyways? So you kept going on dates with me, telling me you weren’t into me every time, just to go home and fuck yourself with these tiny fingers?”

You bit your lip, refusing to give him an answer and also because you were sure any sound escaping your mouth right now would be embarrassingly pathetic with the way his clothed crotch was rubbing against yours. 

When you kept looking away he grabbed your face with his hand and made you face him. “Who do you think of when you fuck yourself?” he growled. 

He seemed to think you were taking a little too long to reply because his other hand landed on your ass cheek loud and hard. You gasped and your hands grabbed onto his wrinkled shirt.

 “I asked you a question,” he insisted when you only gasped and hissed instead of offering a proper answer.

“Answer me,” he breathed against your lips, his tone low and demanding, slapping your ass even harder twice. “Who were you thinking about?”

“Y-you!” you finally yelped. “I imagined it w-was you… every time…”

And with that,  Yuta’s lips were immediately on yours, kissing you softly but firmly, letting out little pained whines. He honestly had no idea how he spent months seeing you without doing this before. It was like the tension was finally leaving his body.

You kissed him back nervously. You still couldn’t quite comprehend that you were finally giving in and allowing your body and heart to do what they really wanted. Then you felt the same hands that had slapped you gently massaging the mistreated area.

We’re done playing games. You’re mine now.

You moaned and he nipped at your bottom lip and slid his tongue into your mouth, licking and sucking eagerly and making it hard to keep up with him. 

You want that? Want me to make you mine?

“Y-yeah,” you barely breathed out as he kissed your jaw. And damn, the stupid serum was still making you admit to the most embarrassing things. “But–”

But you want calm and domestic.

He fixated on your neck, biting and licking. 

And you think I can’t give you that?

“N-nakamoto…”

If you like my last name that much you can have it.

What do you say? I really like the sound of Y/N Nakamoto.

“Fuck…,” you sighed. He seemed to have found his favorite spot on your neck, sucking like he couldn’t get enough.

Say it. Say you want to be mine.

 You finally gave in. “P-please…–Ah!” 

And then you felt a sharp sting on the same spot he had been sucking on. He moaned as his fangs pierced your skin, one of his hands holding you by your nape while his other arm circled your waist. Your neck started tingling;  a funny sensation that soon spread until reaching your toes and making them curl. 

“Taste so good,” he whispered against your neck. 

You whined, gripping his clothes desperately, to the point he could probably feel your nails digging into his skin through the fabric. Your body was tickling all over like you were being caressed with feathers and it felt frustrating. You needed something, but you didn’t know what. Your body seemed to have a clear idea though, your hips moving slowly against Yuta’s. 

 He let go of your neck, kissing your lips sweetly before looking down where your bodies were moving in synch. He let out a heavy sigh and placed his hands on your ass, helping you move.

“It’s– It’s not…” you mumbled, letting out a frustrated whimper.

“Hmm?” he asked, unable to look away from the tent in his pants digging into your wet underwear, having pulled your skirt to your waist. 

“It’s n-not enough,” you finally said.

“Agreed,” he grumbled. His hands flew toward his jeans, unbuttoning them and lowering the zipper clumsily. 

 Your lust-driven brain made it hard for you to think clearly, but you understood what was important: those jeans needed to go. So you lifted your lower body to give him some space to undress himself, but he growled. 

“Where the fuck are you going?” he asked, pulling his pants and boxers down hastily, just enough to free his reddened cock. His thighs would probably hurt with the way the fabric would cut the circulation but he couldn’t care less right now. He wanted your warmth back on him. “Get back here.”

 “Wanna take these off…” you trailed off as you pointed at your panties, trying to untangle yourself from him in such a small space.

“Later,” he breathed out, bringing your body closer to his again. “Can’t wait.”

He pulled your panties to the side and positioned your hips right over his until your pussy was pressed against his member resting on his lower abdomen. 

“O-oh god,” you whined, as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit. “It’s so warm…”

“So wet,” he groaned at the same time. His shaky hands caressed your waist as you started moving experimentally, gliding against his cock. He let out a choked moan. “F-fuck!” 

He reached for your shirt and unbuttoned it hurriedly, lowering it down your shoulders and pulling your bra down as you continued moving back and forward. He sighed at the sight of your uncovered breasts, and let the tip of his tongue tease one of your nipples.

I’ve been wanting to taste these tits for so long.

The same nipple got engulfed in the warmth of his mouth as he sucked hard.

“Ah— Haa….” you moaned, arching your back.

Faster.

You obeyed, grinding harder and faster, feeling your climax building up as a knot in your stomach. “I’m close….Oh!”

He hummed but his mouth was too occupied toying with your breasts to speak. Luckily he didn’t need to speak out loud for you to hear him.

Me too, beautiful. 

Your taste’s driving me fucking crazy.

Can’t wait to taste all of you…

You gasped and a shiver ran up your spine.  “O-oh fuck…”

May I?

Can I eat your pussy?

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, your movements turning desperate as you pressed your clit against the head of his cock.

Tell me I can, beautiful.

His tone was pleading, like he didn’t know you would say yes to anything he asked. 

Yeah? Can I?

Opening his eyes to look up at your face, he stuck the tip of his tongue out and flicked your hardened nipple quickly, no doubt imitating the way he would toy with your clit. All you had to do was say…

“YES! Yes, y-yes, fuck! Yuta, yes!” you screamed. Your body convulsed on top of his, covering his dick with your release.

He finally let go of your sore nipples, looking at your orgasmic expression in awe. 

Suddenly he grabbed your hips and started thrusting up rapidly.

“S-shit, Y/N…,” he gulped. “Feels t-too fucking good I…Ah! I can’t—,” his words were interrupted by a gasp, and then his body tensed as spurts of cum tainted his wrinkled shirt. 

He lay on his back and you collapsed on top of him, both of you panting tiredly.

“...You called me by my name,” Yuta whispered.

You pushed against his pecs to lift yourself a little, looking at his delighted expression. He looked like it was Christmas and he had received the most precious of gifts.

You tried not to smile. “Really? Among all the things that just happened, you’re happy that I said your first name?” 

“Mhmm…it makes me really happy,” he agreed, surrounding you with his arms. “Plus, you didn’t just say my name. You screamed it.”

You cleared your throat, embarrassed. “I should d-drive us back now…” you mumbled, trying to stand up, but before you could even blink you were on your back on the leather seat with Yuta sitting between your legs.

“Not yet,” he said, taking your panties off handily. “Wanna taste you.”

If you were on a proper bed, he would lie down on his stomach easily, but the back seat of the car was too small for that. He knew it wasn’t the most appropriate place for mating, but he just couldn’t wait another 25-30 minutes until you were back in the city. It didn’t matter if the position wasn’t ideal; he had to taste you now. 

“Y-yuta?! Wha—” you yelped when your hips were raised by his strong hands, leaving only your upper back, neck, and head resting on the seat. 

He hovered over you and pulled your hips closer to his face, placing your legs over his shoulders and burying his face between them with no hesitation. 

“FUCK! Yuta– Aaaah!” your hands reached for his head and pulled his hair. “W-wait!”

You said I could.

He hummed, sending vibrations through your body as he made out with your pussy.

“I did but–” your legs kicked the roof of the car as a reflex when he sucked on your clit. “B-but not like t-this…”

Why not?

You’re fucking delicious.

And you’re all mine.

“This p-position is…Oh! It’s too embarrassing…” you whined. Your uniform was wrinkled around your waist, tits and pussy exposed as he bent you in such a scandalous and vulnerable way. 

Don’t be embarrassed.

Never with me.

You’re perfect.

Yuta’s tongue circled your entrance slowly and your hands went from his hair to your reddened face, trying to cover your flustered expression.

What’s wrong?

The tip of his tongue slid in. You whined.

Doesn’t it feel good?

He went in deeper, rolling his eyes at the way your walls contracted against the wet muscle.

“Ah!” you squirmed, but he held you firmly, fucking you with his tongue.

Tell me, beautiful.

I need to know

He knew damn well it felt good, especially with the way his nose was rubbing your clit. You wished you could be mad at him, but then one of his hands left your hips to look for your breasts, grabbing and massaging.

Do you like it?

“Fuck! I- I love it ah– aaahh!” you moaned and your hands went back to his head when he started licking your clit again.

Me too. 

I fucking love everything about you.

“Yuta, oh g-god…” you panted and your eyes rolled back when his tongue circled your clit.

Wanted to do this for so long.

Since the first time I saw you.

Wanted to eat you out on the table I was handcuffed to at the station. 

Didn’t care if everyone saw.

You just smelled so good I knew you would taste like heaven.

“I’m g-gonna cum—fuck, Yuta I– Ah! Oooh!” your legs started shaking around his head.

Cum for me, beautiful.

You tensed in his arms and the tip of his tongue flicked your clit torturously fast, bringing you to another orgasm. You moaned embarrassingly loud and pushed his head closer to your center, much to his delight. His arms circled your hips and secured you in your place as he drank your release, only letting go when you became a trembling mess. 

“Does your neck hurt?” Yuta’s voice asked, raspier than usual, taking you out of your post-release bliss. 

“It will surely hurt tomorrow,” you complained weakly. 

“Sorry, Y/N. I’ll give you a massage later,” he promised. “I just couldn’t find a better way…”

“Didn’t think of 69ing?” You asked tiredly.

“Oh,” Yuta hesitated for a moment and then laughed. “No, I didn’t think about it. That would have been good too…”

You snorted. His brain really was consumed by his rut. It was better to take him home soon. The sky was already dark so it was probably getting late. “How about we get back now–Yuta!” you gasped when you felt his hardened member gliding against your sensitive pussy lips lazily. 

“Once. Let me knot you just once and we can go,” he answered, pressing his hips against yours. But he used all his remaining self-control to halt his movements and look into your eyes. “Unless you really don’t want this…”

 When you first found out he had given you serum of truth you were angry, but the more you thought about it, the more fair it seemed. You had access to his thoughts all the time. You knew his real feelings and intentions but refused to communicate honestly. He had been at a disadvantage the entire time, being so open about everything but never getting a single word out of you. Now you couldn’t lie to him. And that was fine. You didn’t want to. If anything it felt relieving to say everything you thought finally.

“I want it,” you said. “I want you.”

Yuta gulped. “Yeah? You sure?”

You reached for his shirt and helped him take it off before you lay back on your back. Your hands wandered over his body, caressing his defined chest and abs, and your fingers traced the outline of a butterfly tattoo on his stomach. His eyes were trained in your hands touching all of him, and he didn’t notice when you lifted your hips slightly, pressing your crotch against his aching cock and he let out a shaky moan, his body bending forward and caging you on the seat. 

“I’m sure,” you said, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

 He kissed you back eagerly, licking and nibbling your lips until the burning sensation of his cock entering you made you gasp. He looked into your eyes as he went deeper. When he finally was all the way in his eyebrows furrowed and he hid his face into the crook of your neck, kissing the bite mark he had left earlier. For a moment he wasn’t able to speak, panting heavily and shaking, overwhelmed by the pleasure he was feeling.

Fuck…

So tight…

This is so…

I’ve never felt…

…Y/N.

His thoughts were a mess and all that left his mouth as he thrust into you were soft moans. 

“I’m s-so full…” you whispered, lost in the sensation of Yuta stretching you over and over. 

Your voice seemed to bring enough strength to him to use his voice. “Yeah?” he grunted, pulling out until only the tip remained inside and then ramming into you harshly, rolling his eyes back and basking in your moans. “I’ll keep you full, beautiful.”

Your head was swimming. All you could do was nod and moan in response to his hips speeding up. He felt so hard and hot inside of you. You may have said that out loud. And you couldn’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed right now.

“D-don’t stop,” you begged him.

He kisses your lips softly before sitting up, holding your hips in his hands. “Wasn’t planning to…” he sighed and slammed back into you, his movements becoming so forceful that the car was shaking, and anyone who saw it from the outside would know what was happening immediately. 

I’m not gonna last… Fuck.

“Yuta, I’m c-close too…so close,” you whispered. “Just a little bit more.”

 Yuta’s fingers dig into the skin of your hips, fucking you as hard and fast as he can. For a minute you feel him deep inside of you you couldn't breathe and then there was something bigger trying to push in and stretch you even more. “Aaah! AH! YUTA!”

“You’re taking it so well, Y/N,” he said firmly although his voice was a bit shaky. “My knot is almost in.”

“It’s even bigger…,” you mumbled nervously. “Maybe it won’t fit.”

Yuta kissed your lips. And one of his hands found your clit. “It will fit. We are mates. Our bodies are meant to fit perfectly.”

He massaged your clit and kissed you, and once he noticed you were not as tense as before, he pushed his knot inside right in time for the endless spurts of cum that came out of his cock, pressing insistently against your most sensitive area and making you feel even fuller. 

“FUCK! OH, FUCK Y/N! Aaahh… shit oh!” he moaned, never stopping his hips movements.

Yuta’s hand still hadn’t left your clit, determined to get one more orgasm out of you. He used his thumb to rub the sensitive nub in fast circles that soon had you trembling.

“Yuta— Oh my god, oh my god, ohmygod…ah…AH! Ooooh fuck, fuck, Aah!!” 

Your body trembled, trapped by the werewolf’s skilled hands as he caressed your hair and kissed your face, giving you the sweetest compliments to help you come back to reality.

Somehow, Yuta managed to be back on his back with you laying on top of him. He kissed your forehead and caressed your body.

Both of you fell into a comfortable silence again. When you heard Yuta let out a breathless laugh you were going to ask him what he was thinking about, but you could hear it very well.

When I said ‘fuck the police’…

I didn’t think I would do it literally.

You hit his arm. “Yuta!”

And in a patrol car of all places hahah

His laugh became contagious and soon both of you were laughing out loud. 

When you both calmed down you spoke again.

“When your knot deflates we’ll go back to the city, okay?”

“Mhmm, thank you for coming for me, Y/N…”

“How did you know I would come?”

“I didn’t… but I hoped you would.”

You hummed and caressed his chest.

“What are you thinking about,” He suddenly asked. It was his turn to be curious.

“Just… about everything. This really wasn’t in my plans, but maybe it’s not a bad idea to change my life plan.”

“You don’t have to change anything,” he said. “You want stability, romanticism, domestic life with your partner… I can give you that.”

“Can you?” you asked hopefully, but not wanting to put too much pressure on him.

“Of course. I am economically and emotionally stable, all the dates I’ve planned for us were romantic because I am a romantic myself, and I imagine a domestic life with you in which we both help out in the house or I become your house-husband while you catch the bad guys. Whichever you prefer.”

You giggled “So the werewolf in the leather jacket has a soft spot.”

He snorted. “Shut up! I’ll give you everything you’ve ever wanted. Just wait and see, Officer L/N”

[flkwh0re]

Babysitter (Pt. 2)

Warnings: Mommy kink (W), Age gap, Squirting, Masturbation, Breast/body worship, Strap-on usage (R receiving), can’t remember anymore.

A/n: Sorry this took a little long, I wasn’t busy just lazy buuuut milf mommy wanda is here!! enjoy! wrote this and listened to two mcr albums omgg it’s 1 am 😓

Wc: 1,5k

Tag: @alexawynters

part one here

yet to be proof read

——————————⧗ᗢ——————————

Wanda stood outside of your door room, flowers in her hand hesitant to knock. She was nervous to see announce the news to you about her finalized divorce with Jarvis.

As she brought her hand to knock, she heard the voices of two women and your laughter. She was sure she told you she’d be over today, had she forgot? Perhaps you knew but invited your friends over during the same time.

Wanda firmly knocked and waited a second, when you showed no answer, she was pissed. She knocked even harder the second time, the voices inside the apartment fell silent. Then you appeared at the door, “Oh my god Wanda! Hi, I missed you. Uhm, my friends are here so you know.” You said nervously, hoping she’d get your tone.

“Oh I’m well aware, what happened to our plans for today huh? I told you I’d be here at this time, but you go and invite people over to intrude our time!” She said sternly, alight fear rising in you. Suddenly, Wanda burst out into laughter. “Oh sweet girl, I’m playing. Though, I am a little sad you forgot.”

You felt bad, you couldn’t believe you forgot about Wanda wanting to come over. “I’m sorry Wanda, I can ask- " You were cut off by Kate, your best friend, wrapping her arm around your shoulder.

“Miss Maximoff!! What are you doing here at Y/n’s apartment?” Kate asked, you internally cursed the situation. “How do you know Wanda?” You asked, putting Kate’s arm off your shoulder. “Oh she was just my neighbor, I knew her mom pretty well too.” Wanda pipes in.

Well shit, you thought to yourself. “Here Wanda, come in and I’ll kick them out.” You said to Wanda as you pulled her through the door.

“Alright Kate, gotta kick you and Yelena out. Wanda and I have something to talk about.” You told her with a sarcastic smile, to which she cackled.

“The only discussing you’ll be doing is sex.” She said, you slapped her arm harshly causing her to wince. You could hear Wanda snicker at Kate’s comment, then Yelena stepped into the hallway.

“Yelena, please collect your girlfriend. I have something to do.” “Ha, yea do for sure.” Kate remarked, “Yelena please!” You said to the blonde girl, everyone's laughter growing.

“Yea okay, see ya!” She said, pulling her girlfriend to the door finally giving you and Wanda your much needed alone time.

“I am so sorry Wanda.” You apologized to which she shook her head. “No, it’s okay, it was funny. I still am a little upset you forgot about me.” She said with a faux pout, “Guess I’ll have to teach you bout that.” She placed soft little nips and pecks on your neck, a little moan passing your lips.

Wanda backed away and looked up at you, smiling. “That’s gonna have to wait though, I have a surprise.” You raised a brow out of curiosity, it wasn’t often the older woman had surprises.

“What’s that?” You questioned, as she gave you an orange envelope and flowers. “Open it.”

You cautiously opened the delicately sealed envelope. You sat the flowers on the table, to make it easier to get whatever it was out. You pulled out a piece of paper, your eyes scanned over the paper and your jaw dropped in shock as you read the document.

“Wanda, you got the divorce?!” You excitedly remarked as you jump onto her, arms flying around her bringer her into your embrace. “I did baby, we can be together now.” She said as tears welled in her eyes.

“I can’t wait to start this chapter of your life with you baby.” Wanda said smiling largely. “Wait, the boys.” You were worried about them from the start, but you knew Wanda would have a plan. “Don’t worry, they’re a little upset but they still get to see their dad on weekends. Once they find out though that you’ll take his place, they’ll be happy.”

You felt a little sad at her statement ‘take his place’. You knew she meant well, but you couldn’t help but think about how you ripped a family apart because of your silly childhood crush. That didn’t matter right now though, what mattered to you was that you and Wanda could be happy together. You don’t have to sneak around anymore, and you couldn’t be happier to be with the woman you’ve loved.

“Hey, you okay?” She asked, kissing your nose. “Yea, just thinking.” Wanda hummed, “Why don’t you let mommy do the thinking baby?” Heat rose up your cheeks and you nodded eagerly. “I got us a new toy, I’m excited to try it with you.” She husked in your ear.

“C’mon, let’s go to your room.” She said as she grabbed your hand, leading you down the short hall. You reached the room you and Wanda had done so many sinful acts in, not once did the times feel like they do now. You were now Wanda's for forever, it almost felt like a dream.

"C'mon sweet girl, get on the bed. Mommy wants to show you how proud she is to call you hers." She placed soft kiss on your forehead, and her hands slither down your stomach. She slips your shirt off and graces your skin with her kisses.

Lips linger on your body painfully too long, but you hold back your protest so Wanda can worship your body. "Mommy, please." You finally whined in protest. "Oh, you poor thing! Mommy will stop teasing." She chuckled.

Her hands hooked around your back, unclipping the bra that wrapped around your breast. She worshipped each equally, licking and sucking on your delicate sensitive buds. Lewd noises escaped your lips as she began to grind her crotch against yours. You moaned even louder when you realized she was wearing a strap.

You two hadn't tried one yet, so Wanda was all too excited to fuck her girl into oblivion. "You feel that baby?" You nodded. "It's all for you sweet girl. I've been so eager to us it on you, I knew today would be perfect. Why don't you get on your knees and suck mommy's cock, hm?"

As you got on your knees, Wanda removed her pants and the faux cock hung between her legs. You practically drooled at the sight. It was a satin red color, not extremely big, but big enough to fill you full.

Your soft lips wrapped around the tip of the toy; you throated her cock as well as you could then began to bob your head. Wanda yearned to feel your warm mouth.

"Take your shorts off baby, I want you to touch yourself while I fuck your throat." Wanda demanded, to which you complied. Your nimble fingers rubbed over your clit as Wanda gripped your hair with a fist, hips thrusting the fake dick down your throat.

Your arousal practically dripped onto the floor, and your gags and moans filled Wanda's ears. She couldn't be in more of a blissful state.

"Alright baby, I think you're ready for mommy, aren't you?" You weakly nodded, and she helped you to your feet. She guided you to the bed and helped you lay down.

Her hands spread your legs, and her calloused fingers ran through your folds. She gripped the base of her cock, lining it with your dripping cunt. She pushed herself into your tight hole, the tip reaching your deepest point causing cries to leave your throat.

She steadies her thrust, then begins to slowly pound into you. "Fuck baby, you're so tight around me. Mommy just loves this perfect pussy!" You whined as she fucked into you.

“Fuck mommy I’m so close! Please let me cum.” You squeaked out, Wanda chuckling. “Go on baby, cum on mommy’s cock.” She grunted, her hips snapping rapidly against your own. The base of the strap brushed against her own clit with enough force to bring her to an orgasm, both of your orgasms happening at once.

Her high pitched moans filled your ears, pushing you even harder into your orgasm as she fucked your sensitive cunt. You legs began to shake as she didn’t let up, then liquid gushed out of you onto Wanda’s lower stomach.

Moans ripped from your throat, the sensation of squirting almost too much to bare.

Wanda slipped the cock out of your weak cunt, and undid the straps. She flopped down next to you, “Holy fuck Y/n, that was fucking phenomenal.” She giggled, a smile rising on her face making you smile too. “Yea it was, but I’m really exhausted now. You owe me some cuddles.” You say while making grabby hands at her.

“Ah, ah, let’s get ourselves cleaned up first. After that I’ll cuddle with you all you want baby, remember, you’re mine for forever now.” She said as she placed a soft peck on your lips.

You smiled, “Good. Now let’s go, I’m cold.” You grabbed her arm, pulling her up. You ran off to the bathroom and Wanda followed behind.

“Hey, what about a bath? You’ll get warmed up, cleaned up, and I can cuddle you.” Wanda suggested. “Do I still get my real cuddles later?” She giggled, “Of course.”

She ran the water, and as it filled up she dipped her foot into the tub. Settling into the warm water she piped up when she heard your voice, “You know, I never got to make you cum.. mommy.” She scoffed, “Get your cute butt in here.”

Masterlist

[demonmarker]

Beautiful with you Ch.2

Ch.01

Driving to your destination, not much conversation occurred on the way apart from when you first started Regina’s jeep up and her music what it was playing the last time the car was driven which ironically was Cardi B’s WAP. You look over to Regina with a questioning raised eyebrow, “A little on the nose don’t you think?”

Regina just scoffed at you “Oh please Loser, you. Fucking. Wish.”

You didn’t take your eyes off the road as you retorted “Eh sometimes if I’m horny enough” you mentally slap yourself for letting that slip, the plan of going into this friendship and not coming off as a complete simp for the blond just got thrown out the window. Well done.

Regina folded her arms, turning to you with the smug smile you know well, “Oh really? I’m starting to see where that compliment of telling me I’m beautiful came from. Which I totally agree with.” Stopping at a red light gave you the opportunity to give her a look that read oh please, “Hang on, I’m not the simp here! You started talking to me first, you were the one who came on to me and you were the one who kissed me! Might I add I didn’t say you were beautiful, I said the girls at the Plastics table were beautiful. PLURAL!” you defended.

Glancing at the traffic light, making sure it was still red, Regina leaned over to your side of the vehicle getting close to your face “And you enjoyed every second of it didn’t you Baby?” swiping her tongue over your lips to prove her point, making the smallest whimper escape your throat. Caught in a haze of the taste from Regina’s tongue to the smell of her perfume you were only brought back to reality when you hear the car behind you blare their horn, speeding off you give a ‘my bad’ wave which made Regina let out an evil chuckle which made your cheeks go red.

“Do you do that to all your friends?” she let out a throaty laugh that ran straight down to your now wet centre.

“Only the cute ones.” All you could do was shake your head.

Arriving at your destination Regina’s eyes zeroed in on the brightly coloured sign outside the facility “A Daycare? Don’t tell me you’re into that adult baby shit cause I’m so not down for that,” you get out of the car and walk to her side, opening her door for her offering your hand to her.

She takes your hand as you chuckle “God no. I’m kinky but not that kinky! Jesus!” she goes to say something but you cut her off before she can get a word out “Just, follow me.” You get an agitated huff for a response “oh stop complaining,” leading the way into the daycare, hearing Regina’s heels clop behind you.

Dodging your way through the running, screaming children, you look back when you reach the door to the small building only to see Regina a far way behind clutching her bag to her chest as if the little kids were notorious for mugging people, moving and avoiding them like they were rats or some kind of vermin “God let this nightmare end!”

“Hurry it up slow poke!” you mainly just said it to annoy her and on top of all the kids it worked to your delight.

“Listen you! It’s not easy to dodge running germ carriers in heels!”

You smile down to her when she finally reaches you “You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” “You’re cute when you’re annoyed,” she mimicked “Shut up!” you couldn’t help but laugh as

you open the door for her, “It’s not funny!”

“Eh it kinda is babe!” the nickname that slipped out made you both blush. It wasn’t till the

familiar face of Mrs. Bailey approaching you could you think of anything else.

“Miss Y/LN, so good to see you as always. How are you?” You smile back at the kind hearted woman,

“Hi Mrs. Bailey, I’m not bad thanks, always busy as usual.” The Daycare worker nodded along then turned to Regina.

“Oh this is a new face, Hi, I’m Mrs. Bailey, one of the care workers here,” she offered her hand to the blond.

"Regina George,” shaking the woman’s hand politely “I’m a...” she looked to you not exactly knowing how to finish her sentence.

“Friend! She’s a friend” first bullet dodged you think to yourself. You clear your throat “How was she today” you switch subjects quickly.

Mrs. Bailey glances behind her and lowers her voice “Well for most of it she was good, playing with the kids as usual with Alexander always with her.” You nod along as she informs you “It wasn’t till after lunch when we got the kids to do an activity of card making for Mother’s day next week did her mood really drop.”

You lift your hand to your forehead as you realise your grave error, “Oh damn, I completely forgot! I’ve been so busy with school exams and work, it completely slipped my mind!” your riddled with guilt as the shorter brunette gives you a look of sympathy.

“No one could blame, you’ve both been through a lot, she’s not angry but she’s definitely sad, she went over to the silent reading area with Alexander and has just been lying against him since. I had a go at talking with her but she didn’t take to it, so I thought it best to give her the space she needed till you got here.”

You place a thankful hand on the side of her arm “Thank you for telling me. Can I see her?” Mrs. Bailey started leading the way “Of course”

Regina shifts her head up to you as you follow behind the brunette, “She really need a new

wardrobe!” she whispered to you,

“She’s just wearing jeans and a polo! It’s the uniform” you justify.

“Whatever it is it’s ugly,” Regina then looks you up and down “Actually you could probably

use a trip to the mall yourself.”

“Not all of us have rich parents to scab off Regina.” Just as she was about to retort you see

the familiar golden retriever laying down near some bean bags, head perking up and his tail starting to wag as he notices you, and the precious little brunette girl who you would gladly give your life for, cuddled up to him slowly patting his fur hiding her sad little face, not knowing of your presence you slowly walk up to her and crouch to her level, giving her pale pink dress a tug “Hey Princess,” your voice soft and warm.

The little girls head snaps up, turning to you “Sissy!” the little girl immediately wraps her little arms around your neck and you lift her up in your arms as you stand back to your full height, giving her kisses on the side of her head while slowly caressing her hair. “Mrs. Bailey told me you got a little sad after lunch today.” The little girl nodded and hugged your neck, “Aw Princess,” with her head laying on your shoulder she notices the new face standing beside you, her face lighting up.

“Sissy, it’s the Queen from your drawing!” pointing at Regina who held out her hands as if to say I didn’t do anything at first then placed them on her hips with a smug look.

“Well look who knows royalty when she sees it, little cutie.” The little brunette in your arms giggles, Regina getting a little closer to her and whispers “What’s your name Sweetheart?” being shy as she ever was though she just hid her little face into your shoulder but made sure she could still see Regina.

“This is Nina. My little sister.” You almost cried at how good Regina was with Nina, she was like a whole other person with her and it made your heart race.

“Nina. That’s such a pretty name. A pretty name for a pretty girl.” Regina gently grabbed Nina’s little foot softly shaking it, “I’m Regina.”

Nina lifted her head up out of hiding and laid it on your shoulder looking still at the blond “Hi Wegina.” The moment Nina giggled made your questioning if it really was a good idea bringing Regina here to meet Nina was such a good idea disappear instantly. “Wegena?”

“Yes, Princess?”

“Why do wou wike bees so much?” your face drops, uh oh.

Regina waved her hand around Nina “Okay one I am obsessed with her” Nina giggled

happily which made you smile, “two, what was that about bees?” making sure she kept a smile on her face even in her confusion.

You couldn’t help but let out a little laugh “She’s asking why you like Bees so much, Queen BEE” you emphasised the last word hoping she’d catch on, no way were you going to explain to a four year old that Queen B meant Queen Bitch.

“Oh, um, you know what? Every bee hive has a Queen Bee and she gets to boss all the others bees around.” Regina lied but in a way she really wasn’t.

Little Nina’s jaw dropped in amazement “Even the boy bees?” she asks softly in her little voice that you adore.

Regina nodded. “Especially the boy bees” Nina squealed with delight at that decibel that made your ears ring making you scrunch your face up.

A loud bark voiced from Alexander grabbed your attention “Oh right, sorry bud. Regina this is Alexander.” The dog looked at her panting, Regina’s face fell to one of disgust “Um. Hello. Alexander.” She gave a little wave not wanting to get close.

You roll your eyes “Please don’t tell me you have a fear of dogs” Regina held up a hold on finger,

“No, no it’s any animal that carries god know what kind of germs on them and it’s not a fear it’s health self-awareness thank you very much.

You bop Nina gently soothing her... and yourself as you roll your eyes for the hundredth time that day, “argh okay, Alexander. Shake.” The Golden Retriever hearing your command held out his large paw for Regina to shake.

Regina crumbled like you knew she would, you could read her just as much as she could read you.

“Aww” Regina bent down to shake the dogs paw, letting him sniff her but not expecting the long lick he gave her cheek, “Oh ew, ew, ew!” and that was the end of that.

Nina cackled as Regina raced through her purse for antiseptic wipes, “So gross!” she complains wiping her cheek vigorously. Both you and Nina were laughing at the blond soon enough.

“Alexander is Nina’s emotional support animal.” Regina looked at the dog and pointed at him as she put two and two together “Oh!” drawing out the word “That makes sense.”

Nina couldn’t stop laughing “He’s my best friend” she announced proudly.”

Outside the daycare Nina held both your and Regina’s hand as you all walked to her car, “Okay so two options.” You announce “First, you join us for dinner in which case, can Alexander sit in your car with us? Or option two is we split ways here and Nina and I get an Uber home.” You wondered if inviting her for dinner was pushing things too far for your first day, but you couldn’t help but hope she says that she would, you’d understand if she didn’t of course but you couldn’t deny you’d be disappointed.

Regina put on an exaggerated thinking face obviously for Nina as the little girl looked up at her with big eyes, “What does Nina want me to do?” the question caught you off guard, Regina was amazing with Nina and you couldn’t deny that it was making you fall harder for her.

Nina didn’t even need to think about it “Come over! Come over!” bouncing on the spot excitedly.

Regina bent down and picked Nina up, “The Princess has spoken. I’ll just get the jeep detailed so it’s not a problem for Alexander to come in the car.” She says to you. You just looked at Regina with adoration. She put Nina down and started to walk to her car.

“Stop looking at me like that Dork” you grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks, her head whips to look at you, and before you over think it you kiss her on the cheek.

“Thank you Regina” her face went bright red and she just cleared her throat and continued on her way to her jeep.

This Regina George you’d happily let into your life.

Ch.03

@dandelions4us

[hoomandoescosplay]

On The Air | Alastor x Reader Oneshot

In the early morning I feel Alastor get up from our bed causing me to slightly groan and pull the covers up a bit more.

I hear a muffled laugh come from him as he walks into our bathroom to get ready for work. I shift my position a bit, getting more comfortable to drift off again.

Eventually he comes back in, one more time, and leaves a gentle kiss on my forehead. “I love you my darling. I’ll be back home before you know it.” I mumble an incoherent response back, still being half asleep, before he leaves heading out to the radio station.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

I wake up noticing the empty, and slightly cold spot, next to me. Sighing I sit up to stretch before getting out of bed and walking into the kitchen to make myself some breakfast.

As I enter the kitchen, I see a tray of toast with butter and jam, an omelette, and a plate of sausages and potatoes. Alastor even prepared my coffee just the way I liked it.

After taking note of the thoughtful breakfast I noticed a note as well. I picked it up to read it as a smile engulfed my face.

Don't worry about breakfast, I prepared it for you, my darling.

I shall be home later today as the radio station has requested for me to stay longer tonight.

I’m sorry I won’t be home as soon as I originally thought today.

I’ll make it up to you darling. Kisses.

- Al ♡

Ever since we started dating, before that even, Alastor always tried his best to make me happy and put a smile on my face.

While I’m a bit sad he has to work a few extra hours today it also gives me more time to get some last minute gifts I wanted to give him today.

I stretch once more before grabbing the plate of sausages and potatoes along with the omelette to heat up over the stove.

I flick on the radio and start humming along with the song that is playing. As I continue to heat up the food, I hear something over the radio. It's Alastor's voice, he's on air at the moment making me smile.

“And that was some wonderful music for you. Now back to your wonderful host, here's me, Alastor!” A clapping track plays after he finishes his sentences causing me to roll my eyes playfully.

“How is everyone doing today? I'd hope well considering it’s Valentine’s Day.” He takes a second to pause. “I'd like to talk with you about something important as always - it's not the time to panic, but I think we should all remain vigilant because of the terrible events happening in nearby cities.”

I turn off the stove and slightly tune out his voice talking about the recent murder spree happening around our city.

Placing my food onto the dining room table I walk back into the kitchen to bring the radio with me into the dining room as I catch the last bit of his spiel on the recent murders.

“As always, I urge you all to stay cautious. And if you want to, you can always call in here and we'll chat. The police have assured us that they are working hard and that we should have no grounds for concern... But still, stay vigilant, my friends, stay vigilant.”

Taking a breath he starts up again. “Onto some lighter news, let's talk about Valentine’s Day. anyone want to call in and tell us what date you have planned for your special someone?” he asks in his radio voice as I start to eat my breakfast.

Not long after he asks for people to call in, someone's voice is already being heard through the radio.

The woman on the line is excited and speaks quickly: “Oh, I’ve got the best plans! My boyfriend and I are going out for dinner at a fancy new place we’ve been dying to try and to top it all off he said he would take me to one of his favorite spots. It's going to be so romantic.” She swoons and I can only assume blushes as well.

“Ah, how romantic. I do hope you have a wonderful time.” Alstor says as she thanks him before hanging up. A he takes a few more callers before he starts introducing the next song he has lined up to play.

I finish my breakfast and start to pick up the tray to bring into the kitchen for me to start cleaning.

I take the radio with me once more back into the kitchen. “Coming up next, the most romantic song I’ve ever had the pleasure to hear. All the ladies, all the men, get ready cause this song is going to just melt your heart. This one’s for you, everyone, and you especially, my love. This song is just for you. I hope you enjoy it.” I blush and roll my eyes playfully as I start to wash the dishes.

“Such a lover boy.” I mumble with a smile starting to spread on my face. The song ends much too soon and Alastor starts to talk on the air a while longer once more.

I shut the radio off after drying my hands and head into our bedroom to get dressed for the day. Getting dressed quickly, I check the time. It's still early morning which gives me more than enough time to do some shopping before he gets home.

I finish getting ready quickly and start to walk to the shops nearby to get a few things. I’ve been eyeing some new bowties I’ve seen and decided it would be a good idea to get him a new one along with some other small gifts.

The short walk ended as I walked into a store. As I browse I immediately see the bowtie I’ve been eyeing for weeks. It's a beautiful piece and I think that he would love it.

I also see some other romantic items, like a box of chocolates, a teddy bear, and a beautiful bunch of flowers. I decide to get all of the items and head to the register to check out.

I am happy with the selection I’ve made, and I feel like Alastor is going to be very happy with his gifts as well. The cashier rings up my items quickly. I pay the cashier and leave the shop with my bag of gifts. Satisfied with the amount of gifts I found I decide head back home.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

Opening the front door I walk inside making sure the door closes behind me before I place down the bag in the living room.

Glancing at the clock I notice I have a bit more time before Alastor said he’d be home. I decided to relax with the extra time I have by reading a book.

I unpack the gifts and set them on our bed for Alastor to walk into as a surprise when he gets home. I grab the book off of my nightstand and head back into the living room, sitting down and starting to read.

A few hours pass and I get through most of my booth until the phone starts to ring. Closing my book, I place it on the table next to me and walk over to the phone.

I picked it up and said a small “Hello?” waiting to see who is on the other end of the line.

“Hello my darling, I just wanted to give you a quick call to let you know that my day is taking longer than expected.” He pauses to sigh as I lean against the wall. “I’m sorry, I had so many plans for us today and it’s just not seeming to work out.”

I put a smile on my face hoping I can convince him I’m not disappointed we probably won’t be doing anything tonight.

“It’s alright Al, I promise. Don’t stress yourself out over this. Well just do something tomorrow.” I can hear him sigh again, clearly disappointed he has to stay late.

“Are you sure?” he asks, “You’re not disappointed?” I feel my heart melt a little at how much he cares. “Not at all,” I reply, trying to convince him.

Alastor pauses and sighs again. “I really wanted to do something special for you today. I wanted today to be special and romantic…”

“I know, I know. But it’s okay. We’ll do something extra special tomorrow alright?” I say trying to make him relax a bit.

He sighs again, but this time he sounds slightly more relieved when I assure him that I’m not disappointed. “Alright,” he says, “You’re right. Tomorrow, definitely. I love you.”

I smile. “I love you too Al. I’ll see you soon.” I hang up after and head back to where I was sitting in the living room.

Sitting back down I decide to go back to reading my book. A few hours pass, and as the afternoon begins to roll around.

Looking out the window an idea pops into my head causing me to grin. “That doesn’t sound like such a bad idea.” I say to myself as I get up and head into the kitchen.

I grab a small basket and start putting together a small dinner. After finishing making the simple meal I pack up the basket with the food, a bottle of wine, and some plates and utensils.

The dinner looks lovely, quite a romantic gesture that he is sure to appreciate. Deciding to bring a small romantic dinner to Alastor at the radio station was a brilliant idea on my part I think as I take one last look around to make sure I’m not forgetting anything before I head out.

─── ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ ───

Upon arriving at the station a few of Alastor’s coworkers greeted me and some even engaged in some small talk.

After getting past the lobby and some of the offices I start making my way to where Alastor’s studio and office is. I take a peek through the window connected to his office and see he’s not live right now. Taking the opportunity I opened the door.

He jumps in his chair, quickly turning to me with a surprised look on his face. Seeing me standing there with a basket filled with a romantic dinner causes that surprise to quickly turn into a big smile.

He stands up to come over to greet me, kissing me on the cheek as he wraps his arm around my waist.

“You didn’t have to come all the way here to bring me dinner darling.” He rubs small circles on my waist with the hand wrapped around me as I smile up at him.

“I know but I felt bad that you had to cancel our plans due to working late so I wanted to bring the dinner plans to you.” I grin at him as I lean into his touch a bit more.

He stares at me with utter adoration as he speaks up. “Happy Valentine’s Day my darling. I couldn’t have asked for a better surprise today.” He says pulling me in closer to him as he kisses my lips quickly.

I smile during the kiss and it grows wider as we part. “Oh trust me this isn’t the only surprise.” He raises an eyebrow at me causing me to laugh. “I got you a few more gifts. You’ll have to wait to see what they are until we get home though.”

Alastor’s face lights up when you give him that hint. “This day just keeps getting better and better.” He says excitedly. He gives me another kiss on the lips, but this time it lasts longer.

“I guess being on the air today was worth it then.” Alastor replies as I start to laugh again.

[jeneveuxrein]

needy (BLACKPINK Rosé)

word count: 3.3K

(i'm a bit rusty, lol)

You hear an exaggerated sigh behind you. You ignore it, choosing instead to smirk at your screen as your team continues with its quest. 

Your online friends would call you a complete idiot for not doing what you should be doing versus what you’re actually doing. 

It wasn’t intentional. 

At least on your end, it wasn’t. 

Well, to an extent. 

You shouldn’t be focused on finding this stupid shield Jungkook read about from a gaming article with this new update. 

You should, however, give all of your attention to the woman laying on your bed. 

But it’s not that simple. 

See, the thing is, when you meet someone as famous as Park Chaeyoung, or Rosé, or your favorite Rosie or Chaeng, there are rules you’ve established to make this relationship work.

Rule number one: no one can know unless it’s disclosed to her company. Privacy and all that, not only for her, but for you as well. 

Rule number two: you specifically aren’t allowed to date anyone else. The rule applies to her because you are officially together, like boyfriend-girlfriend kind of together, but she likes having so-called power over you. 

Rule number three: if you’re in each other’s presence, undivided attention is a must. Time is precious for the both of you after all. She has a hectic schedule that takes her all over the world while your line of work has you constantly troubleshooting to make sure everything runs smoothly. 

So it was a surprise when Rosie showed up at your apartment a little before midnight without a heads up. She knew what you were doing this evening, but you hadn’t heard from her since morning. You, being you, figured she had an event or a rehearsal or something that kept her occupied. Not that you weren’t involved in her life, but her schedule constantly changed. It was hard for you to keep up. 

Rosie lets out another exaggerated sigh that it actually distracts you, causing your character to die in this part of the quest. 

“Dude seriously?” Jungkook’s voice is in your headphones, chuckling. “You of all people dying to that?” 

“Shut up,” Is all you say, swiveling your chair around to your girlfriend dressed in more comfortable clothes than what she arrived in—your clothes specifically. She has a habit of rummaging through your drawers. Not that you minded, she looks hot in whatever she wears. There was just something about her wearing your clothes that had you feeling some type of way. You mute your mic, double checking it is in fact muted before asking, “Everything alright?” 

“I’m over and my boyfriend won’t spend time with me,” Rosie huffs out, crossing her arms. 

“If I knew you were coming over, I wouldn’t have logged on,” You roll your eyes, glancing at the screen to thirty seconds left before you respawned. 

“I called,” Rosie glares. Someone else might’ve folded under her gaze, but it doesn’t intimidate you. 

“And my phone was in the living room,” You say, slightly apologetic, but the respawn sound plays that has you turning back to the screen. 

“Yeah yeah, play your stupid game,” Rosie mutters, which you hear loud and clear while the rest of the guys talk about their day. 

See, meeting Rosie was pure chance, a deal of the hand you weren’t expecting. Your gaming company drove the development of her group’s mobile game and when it was time to launch, the members of BLACKPINK were there.

At the time, you were just one of the developers since you had more of a managerial role and took it last minute. You were overseeing the game’s development more than anything, giving your two cents as needed, but were hands off for the most part. 

According to Rosie, as she told you during your first date, you were indifferent to meeting them as opposed to everyone else on the team who brought merch for them to sign. She noticed you before the other three girls did, and made sure she personally introduced herself to you. 

Rosie’s beautiful. You’re not blind. You get the appeal. You guessed it was that you treated them like normal people instead of idols that had most of your coworkers swooning in their presence.  

She’s also clingy, not that you minded. She’s slowly told you about her past relationships–lies, cheating, using her. It left wounds of insecurity that have made her feel unsure of who she could trust her heart with. 

One drunken night after spending it at Jennie’s, tangled in your sheets, Rosie told you she felt safe with you. 

Though, as of this moment, you sense the irritation rolling off of her. 

“What the fuck?” The controller falls into your lap when you see Rosie suddenly beside you. 

“You good over there?” Tae asks. 

“Yeah, I just gotta mute myself for a sec, my girlfriend’s calling me,” You mute the mic again, grabbing the controller before turning to Rosie. “What?” 

“I’m bored,” Rosie states simply. 

“And you want to watch me play?” 

“Can I?” You raise an eyebrow, knowing her too well that she’s up to something. 

“Did you want me to grab you a-” Rosie doesn’t let you finish, opting to sit in your lap. “Okay fine, no funny business.” 

Rosie shrugs, settling comfortably against you as you unmute yourself, “Sorry.”

“Are you in trouble?” Jungkook jokes. Your friends know of your girlfriend, but you have yet to give any information on her. Again, privacy and all that. 

“No, she’s just being needy,” That earns you a slap on the arm and a glare.

Your friends laugh, which Rosie hears, slapping your thigh this time. You squeeze her body with your arms before resting your chin on her shoulder as you continue playing. 

Time goes by, Rosie starts squirming in your hold. She was never one to sit still. You let go and she tilts her head back onto your shoulder before she relaxes against your chest. It’s nice being with her like this. She comes over often, but not often enough. 

You haven’t seen her in almost two weeks. The group just finished their last leg of their tour before their encore performances begin. They have a show in France in a couple weeks, which you’ll be joining them. She asked if you wanted to go with them to the states so you could visit your mother in San Francisco. You had to check with your boss, but it was likely you’d be going as well. 

Rosie mutes your mic, “Are you almost done?” 

“Not really,” She sighs against your body. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Rosie pouts, but she does something you were expecting. She slightly rolls her hips. It’s subtle, but it’s enough. 

“Chaeng,” You deadpan, eyes still focused on the screen. 

“What?” There it is. The tilt in her voice, that if it was anybody else, they’d fall for her feigned innocence. 

But it wasn’t anybody else. It was you. 

“Don’t,” Rosie rolls her hips against you again, this time, perfectly against your cock. “Chaeng.” 

“I’m just trying to get comfortable, you’re not exactly ergonomic,” Rosie shrugs, rocking her hips against you once again. 

Your cock stirs at the movement. You take a deep breath, refocusing yourself as your team continues the quest. 

Tae asks you a question, forcing you to reach around Rosie to unmute yourself. “Yeah I’ll check that.” 

When you mute once again, Rosie asks, “How quiet can you be?”

“What?” The question catches you off guard because Rosie’s standing up and unmutes you. She turns to smirk and drops to her knees in between your legs. Your eyes widen, shocked at her boldness. You’re about to say something when she holds a finger to her lips. 

“Fuck,” You groan into the mic when Rosie slips her hand underneath your sweats, wrapping her hand around your half-hard cock. 

“What happened?” You barely hear someone ask. 

“Nothing,” You grit out, eyes watching Rosie push your sweats down just enough to free your cock. You let out a hiss as the cool air of your apartment hits your skin. “I’m good.” 

She starts off slow, moving a loose fist up and down your length as the blood in your body rushes south. By the time you’re fully erect, she lets go, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. 

Rosie’s face lights up, and you know that look. It spells trouble with a capital T, and when she stands up in between your legs, pulling her (your) boxers down, you have a clear picture of what’s going to come next. 

It was meant to be a joke when you mentioned it on FaceTime while they were touring in Australia. You had this fantasy of her keeping your cock warm while you gamed. She asked if you actually wanted that, knowing how much you took gaming with your friends seriously. You shrugged, off-handedly commenting that you thought it would be hot. 

You didn’t go into much detail of how you envisioned it. It was just a fantasy, but when Rosie turns around, her shapely bottom waving in your face, this was so much better than what you imagined. 

Rosie mutes you again, her face slightly turned to you, “Still want to play your game?” 

It’s a challenge. A very dangerous one that you don’t know the outcome of, but you’d bet everything to find out. Even if that meant you have to fuck Rosie against your desk for being this needy. 

“Yeah,” Your voice comes out hoarse, hardly recognizable in your ears. 

“Fine.” One hand rests on your desk as the other reaches for your cock, angling it as she takes all of you in one smooth move. 

“Jesus Chaeng,” You nearly drop your controller as one hand shoots to her hip, gripping tightly as her walls squeeze around your cock. It knocks the wind out of you, feeling just how wet and warm she is.

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Rosie slightly pants, leaning on your desk as you feel her walls stretch to accommodate your size.

“I don’t know,” You pathetically moan out as she sits up straight against your chest. 

“Keep playing,” Rosie unmutes you before slowly rocking her hips. 

You don’t know how the fuck you were supposed to focus when she feels so fucking good wrapped around you, but you push through. 

You tune in to what your friends are talking about, ignoring the small mewls Rosie lets out as her hips move in a circle on top of you. You try to be engaged, commenting here and there, but it’s hard to care what they’re saying. 

You close your eyes, dropping your head against the chair when Rosie lifts her hips along your length before dropping her weight against you. 

“Fuck,” You mutter, but it’s loud enough for your friends to hear. They ask if everything’s alright and you immediately snap back to the screen as Rosie repeats the movement again and again and again. “Yeah, I’m fine,” You grit out after she lands on a particularly hard thrust, walls tightening as she takes a breath. 

You’d give yourself a pat on a back for how far you’ve made it. The amount of self-control you have when it comes to your girlfriend is usually very low. You don’t need much convincing when it comes to having sex, but you want to hold out as much as possible to see where it takes you. 

It’s not everyday Rosie uses your cock to fuck herself. She has, but that’s usually on a bed or in your car, where she has your full, undivided attention.

Rosie brings your hands against her lower stomach, resting the controller against her as she undulates her hips. Any vibration from the game has her body reacting, which by default, you reap the benefits. 

Rosie reaches forward, the mic turning off once again, “I’m going to cum,” She moans out. 

You didn’t think she’d get there that fast, but it is hot to get fucked while your friends are oblivious to what’s going on. She loves performing for thousands of people at a time, but you know her favorite performances are for you and you alone. 

“Go ahead baby,” You murmur, eyes watching where you’re connected, her hips hypnotizing you as they move. “Make yourself cum since you couldn’t wait for me.” 

The words set her off as her body quivers, shaking on your lap as her orgasm hits. Her head snaps back and she holds onto the arm rests as she tries to shut her thighs at the pressure inside her body. The only obstacle is your hands and controller dropping, keeping her spread open as you feel a sudden wetness cover your sweats. 

“Did you just squirt baby?” Your lips ghost over her skin, sweetly kissing her behind the ear. 

“No,” Rosie mumbles weakly, resting her head on your shoulder as she catches her breath. 

“No? Then why are my clothes soaked?” You thrust up from your chair, knocking the wind out of her as she lets out a filthy moan. 

“You came,” She moans as you rock up again, enjoying the sensation. 

You click your tongue, shaking your head as you decide you can’t hold back any longer. Keeping her on top of you, her walls snug and hot, you unmute for the last time, “Ayo, I gotta go.”

Rosie tries to stand, but your arms around her keep her still, filled. 

“Dude what? We’re nowhere near done,” Jungkook whines and you roll your eyes. 

“I realized I didn’t finish something. I can pass on the shield. I’ll log on again sometime this weekend,” You say curtly without giving them a chance to respond, quickly exiting the program before tossing your controller on the desk. 

You stand, easily taking your girlfriend with you as you push her forward, folding her against your desk as she rests on her elbows, back perfectly arched, keeping your bodies connected. 

“Baby,” Rosie whines, your cock still nestled deep inside her.

“Jesus fuck Chaeng,” You pull your hips back, looking at your cock covered in her slick. “You’re a fucking menace.” 

You snap your hips forward, groaning as your cock fills her.

“How else was I supposed to get your attention?” Rosie moans, pushing her ass towards you to take you even deeper. “You chose a game over me.” 

Your hands grip her waist, stopping any movement from her as you just breathe since both of you know what’s coming next. You lean forward, kissing her head, “Don’t act like that. You know you still have all of my attention.” 

You draw your hips backwards, but before you thrust, Rosie speaks, “Then fuck me like I do.”

Never one to not obey Rosie, you do just that. 

You thrust into her experimentally, getting your bearings before you completely lose it since it has been two weeks too long and the amount of dirty texts and pictures you’ve exchanged is never enough. 

“Baby please,” Rosie begs, head slightly turning before nodding. 

The control snaps and you’re thrusting wildly, her hips slamming against the desk, before she could react. 

One of the best parts, aside from you care deeply for and can genuinely share your thoughts and feelings with, is that Rosie always welcomes being fucked hard. Sure you’ve had sex at a much tamer, slower pace, which is just as great, but it’s the best when it’s been a while and the only thing either of you could focus on is tearing each other apart together. 

“Missed you so much,” Rosie whines, doing what she can to meet your thrusts. It isn’t much since you’re practically nailing her against the furniture. 

“Missed you too baby,” You groan as her walls start to clamp down to keep you inside. 

One hand lets go of her waist, raising it slightly before your palm makes contact with her ass cheek. She lets out a moan, pressing her face into her arms, slightly embarrassed by how her body reacts to the pain. You watch her skin slowly turn red, spurring you on even more. 

You feel your peaks coming soon just based on how much easier it is. Her pussy’s slickness lets you slide in and out with ease, but there’s another thing that Rosie loves and it’s how vocal you can get. 

Praise is all around her, but the praise she adores the most is when you tell her yourself. 

Your hand grips her waist again before you let your thoughts fall freely from your mouth. 

Fuck you feel so good baby. 

Couldn’t wait for me huh? Needed my cock so badly.

You look so pretty, letting me fuck this pussy.

You were so hot taking me while I played. 

Bounce on my cock next time, let my friends hear what a good little slut you are. 

Rosie screams as her orgasm rips through her body taking you with her. Your hips stutter into her and your vision goes white as you hit your climax. You couldn’t pull out since she was doing everything to keep you in. 

“Holy shit,” She moans out, back tensing as you feel her release over your cock, making a filthy mess as you paint her insides with your cum. 

You immediately wrap your arms around her stomach, pulling her into your chest as you groan out the remainder of your orgasm. 

It takes you a minute, but you collapse on your chair, the wheels slightly rolling backwards while Rosie falls flat on top of your desk. 

The sight of your girlfriend, fucked out, panting, has you questioning why you didn’t give your attention in the first place. You feel a second wind coming as the smallest bit of cum dribbles out in between her lower lips. 

“Can you go again?” You ask after a few minutes, staring as more of your cum falls out. You almost reach out to push it back in, but you spare her the overstimulation.

Rosie stands straight before turning to you. She bends to kiss you softly on the lips, sitting on your lap, and circling her arms around your neck. 

“Quick nap?” Rosie offers, peppering kisses over your jawline, which of course, immediately gets you worked up. 

“Fine,” You pout like a petulant child. 

You swoop your arms underneath her body, making sure you have a strong grip before standing. You literally have BLACKPINK’s lead singer in your arms, and any physical damage to her would automatically fall on you. 

Rosie giggles as she holds on, telling you not to drop her or the girls would come after you. You roll your eyes, knowing it’s an empty—sort of. The only member you’re actually scared of is Jisoo, while the other two are like the little sisters you never wanted. 

Once you gently lay your girlfriend down, you reach for the bottoms she was wearing, tossing it to her. You change into a different pair of sweats, noticing how much of a mess was actually made before joining her back in bed. 

“Hi,” You whisper, a small smile tugging at your lips as you stare at your girlfriend. You still couldn’t believe she chose you to date out of everyone else.

“Hi yourself,” Rosie smiles, burying her face into your chest. “I missed you.” It comes out soft, shy even, because feelings are still hard for her to put into words. 

“I missed you too,” You bring your lips to her forehead. 

There’s something else you want to tell her, something you’ve been holding in for a couple months at this point. You want to say it now, but when you hear light snores, you know it’s not the time. 

You say it anyway, “I love you.” 

--

--

--

[thepersonnamedsam]

healing the inner child - mv1

pairing: max verstappen x fem!reader

summary: healing max‘s inner child was something you’d do again and again

word count: 1k

warnings: jos verstappen (because he deserves a warning on his own), a bit of angst maybe

note: it was inspired by a post i read earlier here on tumblr and it reminded me of something my therapist once told me; healing the inner child is the greatest way of healing trauma

masterlist / taglist

Max didn’t have a good childhood, Jos ruining the most of it. When you met Max he just won his first championship. You saw him in that nightclub, smiling from ear to ear and glowing like a light bulb. And then there was Jos. He was standing next to Christian Horner, having a heated discussion with him. Christian was seemingly uninterested, rather watching Max having the time of his life. You couldn’t hear what Jos was saying to him, but the fragments you did understand weren’t exactly nice things about his son. If you didn’t know that Jos was Max‘s father, you would think he was his biggest enemy. And that’s exactly what you thought.

You had no idea who Max was at first, you knew he was some big smoke show. But what he actually did, you couldn’t have guessed. You were visiting Abu Dhabi with some of your friends, only just agreeing to the night out, if you hadn’t, you wouldn’t have met Max. At first, he didn’t notice you, a timid shy young woman, standing at the bar and waiting for a bartender to give you your drink of choice. He walked up to the bar, wanting to order a new bottle of champagne. The bartender immediately noticed him and came to his service. You scoffed, how the hell have you been standing there for nearly 10 minutes and no one asked what you wanted, but he just walks up and everyone runs to serve him?

„Everything alright?“, he was asking you, already drunk and careless. Nobody could do him wrong that night, not even a visible angry and confused lady. „I was just standing there for 10 minutes, or more probably, and couldn’t order anything.“ You rolled your eyes. You were annoyed, annoyed with your friends for taking you to this place and annoyed with him and the busy bartenders.

„What would you like, I‘ll put it on my tab and you‘ll have it in a matter of seconds.“ He only meant it nice but to you it seemed cocky. „No thank you, I’d rather wait 10 minutes more, or better, I‘m just going to leave“, you muttered. „Hold up, I only meant it well. What’s going on?“ Max was visibly confused, blending out all of the other people around him, even the upcoming bartender with the new champagne bottle. „None of your business“, you told him, but Max didn’t let go.

You ended up leaving with him, nothing happened that night, just you two talking. He was sharing things with you he never shared with anybody. Things that included Jos. Feeling bad for Max you gave him the card of your therapist, but he just laughed at you and told you he didn’t need a therapist to help him. You once again rolled your eyes. You couldn’t believe what he just told you, everyone needs a therapist, but you couldn’t argue with him.

And one leads to another and you and Max got together. You tried to help Max as much as you could, but Jos didn’t agree with your relationship and always got in your way. It was hard, constantly hearing bad things about you, Max and your relationship with him from Jos. Max noticed your mood change every time Jos was around, so he changed the rules for him. He was only to come to races when you were not around. You didn’t want Max to change anything from you, but you were glad Jos was not attending a race. Not for you but for Max. Max deserved to be surrounded by people who loved and supported him.

You made it a habit to celebrate after every race, no matter what position he placed. You went out for ice cream, waffles, pasta or dumplings, everything he couldn’t have regularly during the season. One time you went out for dumplings, soup dumplings to be specific. Lance knew this great place for dumplings in Montréal. Celebrating his wins were always the best. You smiled and laughed a lot together and on nights like this, where everything was perfect, you didn’t want it to stop.

„Darling, you’re making a mess“, you laughed and looked at your boyfriend. He was trying to eat the dumpling in one go, but the dumpling exploded and the hot soup burnt his mouth, which led to him having soup dripping down his chin. He just smiled at you, ignoring the burning sensation on his face or all the looks he was receiving from the other guests. With you by his side, everything was okay.

„I don’t care, it’s delicious“, he smiled and looked at you. „Do you think we could go to the parc afterwards?“ He was looking at you with hopeful eyes. This was the other ritual you had; playgrounds were there to be played with and if Max felt like playing, you two played. And that’s what you did.

You two sat on the swings, giggling and laughing together. Max was feeling free, free from the pressure and free from anything negative. He was feeling just you and the wind in his face. Everything felt like it was perfect.

And when he won his second championship that year, you didn’t go out to party. Max took you by your hand and pulled you towards the nearest ice cream place, where he ordered himself the biggest sundae they had. You had laughed when he looked at you and asked what you wanted. You thought he was ordering for you two, but turns out, he wanted that ice cream all for himself. You simply took some ice cream in a cone and told Max, you’d eat the rest of his sundae. „I will finish this, believe me“, he told you. He infact did not finish it.

Max was your greatest gift that kept on giving. Healing his trauma was just one way of showing him how much you loved him. He appreciated it and after a while he felt like a little child who had the best childhood. You two had a relationship that wasn’t unusual, helping each other and being there was normal. And Max was definitely glad to have you by his side.

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Heyy! Hope all is well!

Can I request Jason with a Shy! Reader but freaky reader? She prefers not to socialize with others that much BUT WHEN ITS JUST HER AND JASON ALL ALONE??

She’s quite literally snatching the soul from his body (got him seeing stars and the Lazarus pit all over again)

Of course, remember to take care of yourself!

-🥔 anon

This inspired me to do a little something based off a trope. The trope being “well-read girls know how to do it well.” This isn’t completely freaky, but you go for a ride. That’s all that matters.

Not fully smutty, but not sfw by any means.

—

Time Written - 1:16 a.m

You were the epitome of bookshop attendee when he visited a new said corner store one day, wearing cute blue light glasses as you typed away at your computer, nursing a warm latte from the next door cafe.

The prime example of cheesy first time meeting via you unable to reach a book you wanted off what Jason accidentally assumed was a horror shelf category. A unique, interesting read Jason politely snatched for you, taking in your thankful, flustered smile as fingertips brushed against eachother.

One of the most interesting compliments Jason got about his relationship with you had come from Barbara at first, who said he was an incredibly lucky guy to find someone so sweet and good natured.

Dick wasn’t aware Jason even had a girlfriend until Babs brought it up around eight months into the relationship, when you and Jason were certain it was getting quite serious.

He met you twice when coming over into your shared living space, greeting you with simple handshakes and minor conversation, though nothing note worthy. Dick thought you were awkward, plain and simple, cute to look at for sure though.

He didn’t know you were Jason’s type, though he never really put thought to what he looked for in a woman. A why, little bookworm introvert going for Red Hood?

Why didn’t he think of that sooner?

He’d never seen Jason sport such a goofy smile on his face every time he saw the two of you talking together on the side. Whatever made the broody man happy was all that mattered.

You met Bruce Wayne when he insisted Jason brought his mysterious plus one to the approaching gala that very Friday night.

A grand room full of high class people flaunting their wealth wasn’t in your list of experiences you wanted to have, and Jason didn’t blame you. All you could muster was an hour of full face makeup, pretty hair and an expensive dress to meet the main man himself, forming some small, respective conversation before murmuring to Jason that you wanted to leave.

He was glad you asked, he wanted to go home the second the two of you arrived.

Coming home to a quiet, calm environment was always something the two of you looked forward to. Just a safe space where you could be yourselves around one another, caring little for any judgements the universe threw at you.

Jason lounged on the couch back in the respective privacy of your shared apartment, his dress shirt opened a few buttons with his coat draped over the kitchen chair. His disinterested gaze was stuck on the television, mindlessly flipping through channels as he waited for his turn for the shower.

“Last night wasn’t too much for ya, was it?” Jason expressed with concern after he hears the bathroom door open down the short hallway.

“Believe me, old man always wants me to go to those parties. Hate it every damn time.” He turns his head, eyes slightly widening at your approach towards the couch. You were out of that gorgeous dress, your body comfortable in one of his old shirts. You could wear trash bags or a damn potato sack and pull it off like one of those magazine cover models.

With a blush coating those pretty cheeks, your body blocks his view from the television, bare feet softly scooting against soft carpet. Bracing your hands along the couch, you then proceeded to sit yourself ontop of Jason’s lap, nestling your knees along the cushions.

You held a certain giddiness about you as if you’ve drank a few glasses of champagne, though no alcohol touched your lips the entire hour you were at the event.

He emits a soft grunt, his right arm wrapping around your back in order to hold you close. He can’t help but smile up at you, taking in the sweet scent of your body wash and lotion.

“Something you want, pretty girl?” He casually asks, his voice soft and husky with a hint of that playful tone he reserves only for you.

In response, your hands spread out along his chest, trailing down the maroon fabric of his pressed shirt, fiddling with some loose buttons along his collar.

“You know what I want, Jason.”

“Do I?” He asks, cocking his head to the side.

His voice grew a little more teasing now, knowing that look in your eye quite well. He knew what you wanted, but he liked when you vocalized it. He liked that in a woman, knowing exactly what she wants.

“Enlighten me.”

You pout at first, pursing those supple lips before your teasing fingers proceed do undo one of his shirt buttons. Then another, and another.

“What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks again, moving his hand down from the small of your back to your hip, rubbing along the smooth skin.

“You know what I want, Jay,” You insist, proceeding to grow bold enough to shift your hips a bit, slowly rocking once against his lap.

Jason lets out a low noise from the gesture, taking a slow breath through his nose. You had on no shorts underneath your shirt, completely lacking those pretty, lacy panties you had worn under your dress. With the slightest movement, Jason could feel nothing but bare, soft skin, making the warm ache in his lower abdomen grow into a bright burn.

“You’re such a brat,” he mumbles, giving your hip a firm squeeze. “I swear.”

“A brat??” You nearly laugh, bracing both hands on his chest. “That’s meaaan.”

“Oh please,” Jason scoffs, his voice thick with amusement. “Don’t start with that whining, now. It’s not that mean.“

Without any warning, he hoists both of you up from the couch, keeping your legs secured around his waist.

A short surprise laugh left you as you scrabble to cling onto him, maintaining the short distance between the living room couch and the soft, unmade sheets of his bed.

“Why are you being so bratty, huh?” Jason questions after setting you down, catching those tits bounce under your shirt from the impact of your fall. He barely had time to catch sight of your eager little cunt before you purposely fold your legs, focused eyes watching your persistent fingers reach for his belt, eagerly unsecuring the buckle.

“Cause I can be,” You promptly sit up, not bothering to yank the loosened belt out of the loops.

“And you said it yourself. You like it.” You lustfully add, watching his teal eyes flutter closed, hearing the faint crunch of the sheets rustle in your ears as both his hands clutch fistfuls of fabric.

To further emphasize, you unfold your legs, promptly securing them beside his waist, further tempting him on such a sweet, irresistible offer.

Jason groans, tilting his head back a bit as he decides on his limited options. He was tired, wanting to take a hot shower and cuddle his sweetheart to rest.

On the other hand—

“I like a lot of things you do, princess. This just happens to be one of them.” His smile grows with his words as you lean up to kiss along his jaw, having him cradle your chin in between two fingers to properly kiss those rosy lips.

“You remind me of a little gremlin when you’re like this,” he murmurs. “Or just a greedy, spoiled little princess.”

“And you wanna fuck your princess, don’t you?” You tease, kissing him once more to spare a small nibble along his bottom lip, making him groan yet again in defeat.

Yes. He does want you, and you know damn well that you have him where you wanted him. There would be no way that he could say no to you.

And why isn’t he able to say ‘no’ to this girl? He should have a little more self-control than this.

His minor moment of being left speechless proved that, making him roll his eyes.

“You’re really are a little brat,” he laughs quietly, choosing to tease you regardless, looking forward to that quirk in your brow shortly after.

Realistically, if this was any other human being or meta monster of some kind, no way in heaven or hell would he get allow someone to willingly put him on his back. It’s a breach of vulnerability, of submission in his mind.

You weren’t anyone by any means, those soft hands grasping along his broad shoulders, using what strength you had to lean him onto the mattress space beside you, cushioning yourself once more on the gracious seat of his plush thighs once more.

Trust was a huge stability in this scenario, one built upon hours of heartfelt discussions on boundaries and healthy behaviors, sharing what the both of you liked and didn’t.

It was endearing to know he had your full trust to grow more comfortable, encased in each confident kiss you gave him while he reaches up to cradle your head, fingers deeply interlaced in locks of shower damp hair.

Jason’s hands slip up under your shirt as he holds you close, squeezing along your ass before pushing your hips down against himself, firmly rocking up against your sopping core to get a sweet whimper out of you.

His other hand worked under your shirt, squeezing along your tender breasts, pinching your nipples to draw out those eager little whines. A mere ounce of payback for your torturous actions.

“You know you could just ask, right?” He chided with a smirk, proceeding to do the work for you by unbuttoning his pants, hastily pulling the zipper down.

Your hands work to free his eager cock from his boxers, biting your bottom lip in excitement to feel his heavy girth in your palms.

Of course, there’s many chances you would have just been able to ask in this moment and in this position. You knew that.

Your middle finger trailed along the smooth tip, wiping off a fat bead of precum that came close to dripping down the side, bringing it to your mouth to graze it along the tip of your tongue.

“I know.”

Teasing him was just a whole lot more fun.

Raising your hips a bit, you rest yourself over the underside of his cock, rocking yourself back and forth. The sting of blunt nails soon irritated your hips, Jason’s impatience peeking through as he feels himself grow soaked with your juices. The tip bumping deliciously against your throbbing little clit.

He makes the tiniest noise as you take the reins, but it just fuels your desire to ‘ruin’ him even more. Once you had started, there’s not much of a chance he has to stay in control.

Important of all, out of all qualities he adored of you, he thrived on your incredibly sweet mouth, like fresh cherry juice seeping through warm, crystallized sugar crust holding in the compote.

Jason loved the tart bitterness of your sassy nature, your ability to talk back during those start moments where it mattered most.

He couldn’t ask for more, really.

His head cranes back, grunting in delicious euphoria of your wet walls perfectly clenching around his cock after mere minutes of torture, feeling like hours. You’ve never been so wet, needing more prep than this before he could even stuff himself halfway through your walls.

Your body accepted him easier, eagerly taking in every inch as you bounce yourself on his cock, squeezing your own breasts as you moan in complete ecstasy, feeling him kissing your sweet spot each time.

Jason could only marvel and admire the beauty above him, his own chest slowly heaving from the sight. The way your hips moved was like art, your back arching like a flower stalk in the breeze, your lips crying out the sweetest of music.

You were gorgeous, where Jason was impatient. There was little time before his hold on you reinforced, his legs bracing along the mattress before he takes the lead, moaning out himself as he thoroughly fucks the girl that got them into this mess. A constant staccato of clinking from his belt accompanied the relentless pounding of his heavy, full balls against your ass.

The rest of his shirt would be ripped open with broken buttons hanging by severed threads done by impatient hands. Manicured nails scratching across every scar down his chest, inventing new ones after every climax you had, his cum coating your gushy walls white.

His neck would be doused in love bites the size of rose petals, matching similar to the bruises that will show up around your waist come morning.

Jason Todd was incredibly fucking lucky indeed, since the second he unawaringly snatched a rather tasteful romance novel for you at the book store.