#would love these as prints omg

[kyurochurro]

Frankie Stein!! ⚡ Part 1 of 3 for my 2023 Howl-o'ween Monster High Series!! 🎃 >:)

(Draculaura and Clawdeen are next!! Stay tuned for them, I'll link them on this post later on when they're done!)

[beesorcery]

i redesigned this shirt and now you can put it on your body

here it is, the final culmination of my fun cool graphic design project where i replace cities with 8balls!! If you want to follow along the process you can check out these posts: one, two, and three :D

if you are interested in wearing this as a shirt i made a teepublic! you can also download the files from google drive if you would like to print the design yourself

thanks for following along!! i have really had a lot of fun doing this (and just following 2our in general, the vibes were sweet) and i'm glad other people enjoyed it too :)

(better quality images under the cut <3)

[lordbettany]

literature professor moodboard

[ejunkiet]

i need to get into book binding >:3

[toxicanonymity]

omg the way every inch makes me drool idk what u did to me i haven’t been the same since 😃 ur so talented i owe u my kidney for that fic alone ! would ever consider part two?? no pressure !!!

EVERY INCH 2

2200 words, m!ghostface x f!reader

follows Every Inch. NEXT: Every inch 3

SERIES MASTERLIST

A/N: He's never unmasked. He is night walks coded. Thank you for all the love on my first Ghostface fic. This was a "one shot fail" because of your engagement & enthusiasm. WARNINGS: I8+ piv, noncon, ghostface calls himself daddy, peeping tom, dirty talk, masturbation (both), knifeplay, hair pulling, manhandling, choking kinda, degradation, pet names (baby, sugar, nasty). NO USE OF Y/N. 

SUMMARY: Last time you saw ghostface, he was unconscious from the car wreck and you had your way with him. Now, he's coming to take what's his.

You've put Ghostface behind you, at least in terms of fearing for your life. He's finally left you alone. He must be too humiliated to face you after you restrained him and had your way with him in the car while he was passed out. You still look at the picture you took every day.  You'd like to get it printed and stick it on your bathroom mirror.  He looks so pathetic with his own mess all over his robe. But it's not just the humiliation you love to see. It's his cock. . .

Yeah, his cock.  You've thought about it more than a few times. He would've given you every inch. All you had to do was ask. And the video of him whimpering? You save that for special occasions. Like when you need to cum in a hurry. 

It's Friday night and you're lying in bed after getting home from seeing a movie.  You make sure your vibrator is charged before you start reading, but soon enough you get distracted.  You're looking at your video of Ghostface coming all over himself when a call pops up on the screen. No ringtone.  Your phone is still on silent from the theater.  

The restricted number still makes your heart jump even after such an empowering victory. But you rip the bandaid off and answer it on the first ring. "Hello?"

"So... how'd you like the movie?" the voice changer asks you. 

You panic and hang up, but when he calls right back, you answer again. "This isn't funny, whoever you are."

"You know it's me, baby. You feel it in your. . . pants."

"What do you want?"

"I asked how you liked the movie." 

Friday night. Lucky guess. You know he’s not going to let it go, so you might as well answer. You’re not going to give him the satisfaction of acting aghast that he knows what you did tonight.  "Fine, I liked it. It was fun,” you say dismissively. 

"Picked a bad time to refill your drink. . .  Missed a great kill."

Your heart jumps. ". . .you were there?" The theater wasn't even that crowded. How could he go undetected? Surely you would have recognized something about a man you rode into oblivion. 

He's bemused. "What, you thought I was gone? Nowhere?”

"wishful thinking," you reply. 

Ghostface says, “Oh, we both know what you really wish for. . .”

You’re not even going to argue. 

“How was your date?" 

"How was yours with your hand?" You retort.

"You didn't look interested.” 

"What, are you gonna ask me out?" Your face heats up as you hear your own words.

"Not tonight. 'Cause you've got a date with that toy and my picture, don't ya?”

You freeze. 

He taunts, "Want a third wheel?"

You ask, "How long have you been watching me?"

"Never stopped, sugar." You feel like a fool for thinking he had. “I’ve just been a little. . . distracted.” 

You scoff. 

". . . Okay, did you call just to talk?"

"Wanted some audio with my visual this time."

"Pervert."

“oh I'm the pervert," he chides. Your face is burning up.

"You know, you’ve still got something of mine.”  His knife. You’ve hid it somewhere special.  “Keep comin’ for it. . .but don’t wanna interrupt you.”  

You look out your window, which faces the woods.  "Cause you put on a good show, baby." There’s never been a reason to close the curtains.  You preferred to see danger coming. Danger like him. A lot of good that’s done you. 

“You’re a creature of habit, aren’t you?” 

Are you that predictable?  

“Lucky for me,” he adds darkly.  His breathing becomes audible.  “Oh, you like this, don't you . . . knew ya would. . .  .  .Dripping already.” His voice is steady through the equalizer, but his speech pattern tells you his dick is hard. And god damn if he isn’t turning you on. 

“Dip a finger and show daddy how wet you are.” 

Before you know it, you're doing it. You don’t show him, but you curiously dip you fingers and pull apart the clear string of of your arousal

“Two fingers . . let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”  You lie there clenching your thighs together. 

“Ah, fuck it. Go ahead, turn it on,” he says but you don’t move. You clench your thighs together.  “Turn it on,” he repeats firmer, and something possesses you to turn your vibrator on. 

“Yeah, that’s it . . .”

You don’t even need the picture now, or the video, or your reading. But you don’t exactly want to let him make you come this fast. 

He sighs and says, “You’ve got a nice, juicy pussy." He spits, which the voice changer doesn’t process.

You close your eyes and recall what it felt like impaling yourself on his cock. 

"You don't have to say it," he reassures you menacingly. "I know I’ve got a nice cock.” 

He’s right about that.  You close your eyes as you touch yourself.  You’re too horny to think straight, but in the back of your mind, you try to tell yourself he killed your friends. He killed your friends. It doesn’t make you any less turned on. You sigh in shame at yourself. How does Ghostface have you wrapped around his finger?

“Oh, it’s only natural, baby. This cock’ll fuck you right up.” God, why does that turn you on? “In the guts and the head.” 

"Real shame I wasn’t awake.” He breathes heavily for a few seconds. "Coulda been even better for you.” 

You fail to suppress a moan as heat is bubbling in your core. 

“Yeah. . .Can’t stop thinkin' about this cock, can ya?” 

You turn up the intensity of your vibe. 

“Not everyday someone takes every inch of this.” He moans weakly then spits again. “Filthy girl.  Swallowed it right up.” 

“So tell me, sugar," his breathing is even heavier now. "How do you want it?”

“What if i don’t” you lie, then gasp at the tension in your core.

“Then why’d you take it,” he says with a bite and the heavy breathing stops. 

“Because,” you pant. “It was there.”

You’re getting close.  “How do you want me,” you self-loathingly ask. He doesn’t answer. You look at your phone and he’s gone. Shit. You open the video you took of him and as soon as you hear him whimper, your body jerks as the tension bursts inside you. As soon as you finish pulsing, the regret hits you like a tidal wave. So fucked up. Soooo disgusting.  You need a shower. 

—---

You take a long, hot shower, listening to music. You sigh, feeling a little better already. You turn off the water.

“Soaking wet. That’s how I want you.” You freeze and the only sound is the dripping water for a few seconds while the song changes.  

“Come on, you’re smarter than this.” The voice changer echoes through your bathroom and you almost fall over. “What’s next? Going down to the basement?”

You stand silently in the shower with your heartbeat echoing in your ears.  There’s nothing you can do.  You squat down, hugging your knees.  There’s no good option.   

The shower curtain slowly draws open and he looms above you.

“My turn, baby."  The glint of a knife–your own kitchen knife–catches your eye. He tilts his head slightly and observes you for a moment.  Then he pulls your hair and violently forces you to your feet. You begin to slip and he catches you, then manhandles you out of the tub and you whimper. You’re thrashing around wet and naked.  He drags you to the bathroom sink and puts you between him and the sink, both of you facing the mirror. He reaches out and wipes the mirror with his robe to make sure you can see. 

The sight is surreal. You’re completely nude with Ghostface up against you.  One gloved hand cups your breast while the other raises the knife.  He stays behind you and holds your own kitchen knife to your throat.  

He inhales audibly. “So clean and so filthy.”  

You elbow him in the gut. “Let go of me.” 

“Afraid not, baby. . .” The hand leaves your breast and slides lower.  He presses on your hip, bringing you tight against him. “Too late now.” His hips push forward and the massive shape of his hard cock makes you weak. 

He holds you still with just one of his big arms as you struggle.  “Coulda had it how ya wanted.” 

The unwelcome throb between your legs is spreading through your abdomen. 

“Now you’re gonna take it right here.”  He keeps you pinned to the counter, the arm with the knife holding you still while he lifts his robe and tugs his PJ pants down.  “You’ve put me behind you after all.”  He jerks you back against him, pulling you off the counter and holding you tight against his hard dick.  He lightly trails the tip of the knife down your cleavage and your stomach, dipping into your belly button on its way down to your mound. Then he holds it handle-up and teases your cunt with the flat of the knife as you watch in the mirror. The cold metal sends a shiver down your spine and you watch your nipples harden.

“Who are you?”

“Your favorite bad guy. Ask me a. . . harder one.” He grinds himself against you.

“What do you want?”

“To know what your insides feel like.” You suck in a deep breath and register the smell of weed as his cock twitches against your bare skin. “When I’m awake,” he adds. 

He pries your legs apart with his knee, then his glove brushes your inner thighs as he aligns his cock at your entrance. “Oh you’re ready ready,” he says. He notches himself with the thick head of his cock resting snug against your wet little hole, then he holds you tight and shoves himself into you with a sigh.  You have to try not to moan with the most welcome stretch. “Hell yeah,” the mask says into your ear. Thank God you’re so wet, because there is a lot of him. He pulls back, then slams into you, bottoming out with a grunt then another sigh. You watch your face in the mirror and try to wipe the enjoyment off it. 

The hand with the knife rests against your chest as he pounds you. “You’re lucky you’re so hot.” You want to memorize the feeling of his cock inside you so you can come to it later instead of giving him the satisfaction right now.  He pants as he thrusts into you harder.  “So. . .damn. . . hot.” You look down watching your breasts jiggle as he rails you. “I don’t think so. . . baby.” He grabs your chin and makes you look back up at the mirror. Your drooping eyelids give away how good you feel. 

“Take it like a bad girl.” He grunts and brutally fucks you in the way you’re afraid only he can. No, no, you shouldn’t be thinking thoughts like this. “A real bad girl.” A climax is gathering in your lower belly.  “Cock hungry little slut,” he bites and it makes you twitch. “This pussy’s mine now, you know.” 

He buries himself inside you for another minute and makes it rough. “Now or never baby," he pants. “Know you wanna come on this cock.” God, you do. “Do it now.”  He slams into you harder than ever and groans as he begins to pulse inside you.  You can’t stop it. The feeling of his climax trips you into your own.  Your needy cunt chokes his cock, milking him of an unfathomable load.  He fucks you through it and your body jerks into his imposing, robed form. His cum is in every crevice of your core.  You can’t help but moan and sigh.

“Good girl,” he says.

His cock slides out of you, leaving a void that slowly caves in on itself. He tucks it back into his pants. 

------

Ghostface forcibly positions your chin to take one last look in the mirror. Then he picks up your phone from the counter and forces you to swipe the camera on.  He points it at the mirror and says, “say cheese.” He tosses your phone back on the counter, then slams you chest-first into the back of the door with an impact. He holds the knife to the side of your neck and says, “you’re welcome.” He really smells like weed.

“Now where’s my knife.”

“I don’t have it,” you claim. 

“I don’t believe you.” 

“What’s so special about it?”

“It’s mine.” 

“The cops have it.” 

“No they don’t. Why are you lying?”

You’re not really sure. He presses the flat of the knife so hard against your throat you start to choke. “Okay,” you manage hoarsely. He lets you breathe.  You look behind him toward the toilet. 

He drags you by the elbow to the toilet. He opens the back of it and the knife is wrapped up in a grocery bag. “You watch too many movies,” he says. He pushes you out of the way, opens the door, and leaves. The song turns to Call Me by Blondie.

NEXT: PART 3

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

Please engage (reblog/comment)  if you want more of this <333 It might go a long way in motivation.

Yes this is my night walks coded ghostface but I think most people reading this don't know what night walks is lol.

Call Me:This Blog::Red Right Hand:Canon. But in this case it especially makes sense 🥹

@hearteyed-shawty had a song rec last time: I'm Yours by Isabel Derosa.

Slasher master list

@ghostslittlegf @sunflowerleii @igotmajordaddyissues @rileyquinn07

[i6eyes]

%% jean kirstein bf hcs !!

pt 2

contains: sfw and nsfw, implied fem!reader (no y/n), established relationship, soft jean teehee, jean’s horse cawk, nothing too graphic tbh

— who knew a fucking stallion will be the one who's going to bring me back from the dead .

sfw

omg omg he's soo tall right

definitely puts his arms around your shoulder, and kisses u on your temple or forehead too

the sweetest !! i feel like he would be so so attentive to u

oooh u did a double take at the dress u guys walked passed by earlier in the mall? woah it's suddenly in ur bed the next day !! :OO

he's a nice cook ! can cook but the best, his expertise are mostly breakfast foods but he can cook you lunch and dinner as long as he has a recipe

oh he'd be absolutely smitten !!!! i luv big scary men being total sweethearts to their s/o

if ur trying some shoes, he'd be the one to do all of the work ! he'd kneel down, take off your shoes, puts on what you chose on you, will be the who's going to take it off too, then will tie or buckle your shoes up for you

or or or, he'd be out alone and he passes by this little store filled with trinkets and stuff. safe to say, he walked out of the store with a silly little keychain he knew you'd like

^^ one of his love language is acts of service

he loves spending time with you. specially the moments where you two just chill and share some occasional kisses here and there

his favorite thing to do is have you lay on top of him while he's laying down and make you talk about your day !! he'd play with your hair and caress your nape and back while you do so :((

he's obviously attractive, but he doesn't know how much

there's so many simple things that he makes attractive

his attentiveness. you'd be in the grocery then he'd suddenly disappear for a while, only for him to come back with arms full of chips and snacks. "these are your favorites, right?" he said while dumping them in the cart, not even waiting for your answer.

oddly specific but the way he leans on every door way. you know the thing where people place their hands on top of a doorway? that, but he subconsciously does it everywhere. omg imagine he fetches you from your house for a date and the moment you open your door, boom! there's jean, towering you with a smile on his face.

he knows how to slow dance, like the ones in the movies where the main characters would suddenly dance in their living room, to which, he did with you!

slow dancing in the living room with jean :(

if you're still in school and he sees you struggling with a subject or school work, he'd help you as soon as he could, specially if it's something he already learned before. but! if that's not the case, he'd take his time to learn what you're having problems with and try to come up with an explanation to make you understand better

he's so lame (affectionate)

nsfw

oh boy

he's not the stallion for nothing

easily one of the biggest cock in the aot verse

usually, i'd be realistic when it comes to sizes, but jean is at 7-8 inches.

hhhhhhgggh, king of dick prints. he's naturally big even when soft, about 5 to 5.5 maybe. < he's a grower

he's such a big man, his proportions are perfect, of course he needs a big fucking cock to go along with it

he keeps his happy trail no matter what happens. he knows it's attractive and knows that you love seeing it on him

^^ up to you whether you want him to shave or trim, he's fine with anything as long as he keeps his happy trail

wide athletic shoulders that he puts your legs at while he's eating you out our splitting you open with his cock

this man's proportions are actually making me insane i don't know how to put my thoughts into words anymore

his hands are big, but not huge or ginormous. it's pretty and rough looking at the same time. his fingers are longer than most men's but are thick enough like the ones most are familiar with when thinking about a man's hand.

his nape is sensitive, simple touches like brushing his hair back will make him shiver. hickeys also show more easily on his neck, just suck on it lightly and there's already a blooming red mark left in its wake.

oh my god, touch his torso or the bottom of his stomach (ehem, close or at his happy trail) and he's gone. it's starting to become an actual problem because there would be completely innocent moments where you touch those places because you need to get pass by him and he'd just suddenly pop a boner on the spot.

*taps mic* soft dom

he absolutely loves praising you, it's an unconscious thing he does

you'd be on your knees, sucking in his cock on your mouth as much as you could, and he'd groan while keeping your hair out of your face using a hand while the other caresses your cheek, wiping away the tears that lay there.

^^ "there we go, knew you could do it.", "fuckin' natural at it.", "think you could take me a little deeper? uh huh? yeah that's my good girl."

im in shambles

he's SOOOOO good with his fingers my GOD.

he knows what it takes to make you cum with his fingers, he has an actual technique it's crazyyy. doesn't prioritize in making it fast or hard or whatever, whether you like it like that or slow, he will follow his own lead on what he thinks will make you feel spineless.

knows the fingers inside you, palm on your clit thing. has made you squirt using it on multiple occasions

while he adores missionary because he loves seeing your face and folding you in half with your legs beside your ears, doing it doggy will always make him carnal

he has a thing for your backkk. he'd grab the one side of your shoulder while he's hitting it from the back, sometimes he'd bruise your hips with his grip instead

will slap your ass. not really in a sub/dom dynamic. he just likes the way he sees his handprint on your ass while you're writhing beneath him

stroke game is unmatched !!!!!!!!!

he doesn't rely on his size alone, this bitch is actually prepared and knows his shit y'all

even if he doesn't or can't push all of him in, he'd work with what he's able to put inside you and god does he do it well

during missionary, expect him to put a pillow under your hips despite his size and knowledge. he want to make you feel the best at any given time

while he doesn't mind if you're a loud moaner or what, he LOVES hearing you whine.

if you're a whiner, boy is it a good time to be ALIVEEEEEE

he founds it so cute and hot <3

[artjiayi]

Happy (very) belated birthday to my favorite twins 💜

Omg I'm finally done with this piece. Took me a while but I made some breaks in between as it's a bigger illustration to draw.

I know their birthday was 2 months ago but I was pretty busy the last months and I had to deal with personal stuff as well. It was kinda rough but things are slowly getting back together.

Anyway, I thought it’d be fun to do a Disney-verse and make the twins meet Flotsam and Jetsam for real. I’m pretty sure this would 99.99% happen if they met...

Of course Jade would get along with Jetsam. They’d be plotting all the time and fufu about it. Mischievous eels and that damn smile again.

Poor Flotsam getting squeezed by Floyd… there’s no way we can stop this. Who would interfer with Floyd anyway ?! and besides the only person he would listen to is his current mood so… Good luck Flotsam, you seem to amuse him at least…fufu.

Those evil fishes…but that’s why I love them.

Btw, this year I’m confident enough to go to conventions as an artist for the first time and I’m so excited about it. I'll give you more details once it's officially confirmed. This also means I will be selling prints of my illustrations in the near future so stay tuned for more infos soon.

[astonmartinii]

a spoonful of sugar | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem chef!reader

cheffing it up all over the calendar

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 124,509 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: WOAH WHAT IT'S OSCAR'S HOME RACE WEEK? that mean's it's time to whack out the aussie cook book mama piastri got me for christmas and man this fish has a cool name. BARRAMUNDI is a fish very commonly used in aussie cuisine (real ones know it from masterchef australia). so here i've pan seared it with some herbs and some lemons and take it from me it SLAPS, but you know what i hope slaps more? oscar this weekend... LET'S GO BABY

[as always this recipe is on my website and will be in my 2024 f1 calendar recipe book coming out soon]

view all comments

user1: FAVES OMG PARENTS

user2: my favourite thing is where i read intently all of y/n's recipe and continue to make pot noodles

yourusername: pot noodles are good i can't even be mad

oscarpiastri: can confirm it did in fact SLAP

yourusername: oh wow piastri stamp of approval that's basically a michelin star

oscarpiastri: tbf i would eat a roll of paper towels if it was you who gave it to me

yourusername: okay.... I'LL TAKE IT

user3: can we please study these people cause why is saying you'd eat paper towels is the pinnacle of romance

user4: i NEED the recipe book STAT

landonorris: i was on board with this whole cooking thing but FISH IS WHERE I DRAW THE LINE

yourusername: oh boy we got a BABY ON THE LINE

landonorris: i'm allowed to like what i like my MUM said so

yourusername: bro is an elite athlete and exclusively eats chicken nuggies

landonorris: @oscarpiastri tell your girlfriend to stop bullying me

oscarpiastri: i'm on her side buddy maybe explore the culinary world

landonorris: that's it i'm going to HR

yourusername: try it girly the mclaren HR team LOVE my food

user5: the dynamics since oscar and y/n got comfortable in the sport are my favourite things

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant, landonorris and 793,288 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: first time on the podium at my home race and the feeling is unreal. so thankful to have my family and love of my life around me, lets keep building on this !!

view all comments

user7: THANK THE LORD MCLAREN KEPT THEIR SHIT TOGETHER IN 2024 OSCAR FIRST WIN COMING IN FAST

yourusername: I AM TOTALLY FINE ABOUT THIS AND I AM NOT SOBBING UNCONTROLLABLY BECAUSE I AM SO FUCKING PROUD OF YOU AT ALL TIMES I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

oscarpiastri: I LOVE YOU TOO SO MUCH AND I LOVE SHARING THIS WITH YOU AND SEEING THE WORLD WITH YOU AND REACHING OUR DREAMS TOGETHER

user8: are they good?

logansargeant: from the man currently waiting for them to go to dinner and can hear them yelling this stuff to each other... no they are not okay and i don't think they ever have been

yourusername: LOGIE BEAR I AM SORRY I CANNOT CONTAIN MY LOVE FOR OSCAR

oscarpiastri: jealous bitches gonna be bitter

logansargeant: ??? excuse me

oscarpiastri: i'm sorry i got excited... love you logan (just not as much as y/n)

user9: this comment section is once again making me want to sneak into an F1 after party :(

user10: they're just going to dinner they've not even started drinking yet 😭

landonorris: i am proud of you mate - why is y/n dancing around in the kitchen in an apron that says "this chef FUCKS"

yourusername: fashion. (it says oscar piastri in small print right under that)

landonorris: i didn't need to know that

oscarpiastri: let her dance it makes the food taste even better

landonorris: there's definitely no fish right?

yourusername: no fish by order of the fussy child

landonorris: bullying online and in person @maxverstappen1 @charles_leclerc @logansargeant STEP IN

maxverstappen1: eh i'm good i'm looking forward to dinner

charles_leclerc: you're on your own with this one lando

logansargeant: i've learnt not to cross y/n

user11: the piastris invited lando, logan and the rest of the podium? i am soft

yourusername

liked by charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 and 162,994 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: a big post podium celebration dinner at the piastri house to celebrate oscar's home podium. first off, super duper proud. second, since it was a strictly no fish evening, i decided to go for classic aussie meat pies and grilled kangaroo LOL but there was only clean plates at the end so i'll defo consider adding it to the recipe book

view all comments

user12: i am getting a sugar rush this is so sweet

logansargeant: thank you for having me, a solid 9/10 - one point docked because kangaroos are cute

yourusername: wait until you run into one on a cold, wet evening

oscarpiastri: they are actually very scary and have a stealing problem

yourusername: tbf i think we all have a stealing problem

oscarpiastri: you definietly do ... cause you stole my heart

logansargeant: EW NOT ON MY COMMENT THREAD

user13: i'm so lonely

maxverstappen1: i definitely did not think i was going to eat kangaroo this week but here we are

yourusername: did you like it?

maxverstappen1: i was shocked at how much i did

oscarpiastri: babe get that on the review cover of the recipe book this guy got three championships that has to mean something

yourusername: good idea i'm on it

maxverstappen1: ???

landonorris: you fed me kanga and roo from winnie the pooh? Y/N YOU FED ME KANGA AND ROO FROM WINNIE THE POOH?

yourusername: you eat chicken all the time and you don't feel sorry for chicken little

oscarpiastri: she ate you up there PUN INTENDED

landonorris: i've learnt my lesson i'm giving up here

charles_leclerc: i for one had a blast and will be asking for y/n to cater my birthday party

oscarpiastri: FOR A PRICE

charles_leclerc: you her guard dog or something?

oscarpiastri: duh? have you seen her?

yourusername: i would love to (idk monagasque cuisine though so give me notice)

yourusername

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 152,339 others

tagged: oscarpiastri, logansargeant

yourusername: IMOLA, IMOLA MY HEART LIVES IN ITALIA AND MY STOMACH LIVES WITH ITALIAN FOOD. for real. the track is cute and whatnot but the real star is the pasta, the pizza, the gelato but most importantly the PASTA. here is two dishes that'll feature in the imola chapter: a burrata dish and a ragu !! oscar (and lando) certified so you know it's good, oscar even helped so it's defo beginner friendly!!

view all comments

user17: is it a collective f1 driver experience to be ass at cooking

danielricciardo: yes

maxverstappen1: yes

oscarpiastri: yes

landonorris: yes

charles_leclerc: YES

oscarpiastri: if i'm slow this weekend it's because i couldn't stop eating the ragu sorry mclaren

yourusername: i made sure no gelato until sunday so please don't take me out back and shoot me over giving him pasta

mclarenf1: bring some pasta for social media admin and no one has to know

yourusername: deal

landonorris: this is a public instagram comment section

charles_leclerc: why is mine always so darn crunchy

yourusername: inpatient, common amongst you drivers. oscar was once so impatient when boiling an egg he got it out and it was just watery egg

oscarpiastri: you said you wouldn't tell anyone :(

yourusername: no babe i'm proud !!! you've come so far

oscarpiastri: it's true i made my own omelette the other day :)

yourusername: and it was yummy

oscarpiastri: and it was yummy :)

user18: the positive affirmations in this relationship really keep me going

yourusername: he IS the MOST beautiful racer in all of the lands

oscarpiastri: she IS the PRETTIEST chef in all of the kitchens

oscarpiastri

liked by alexalbon, yourusername and 775,431 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: not the race we wanted in spain, but we're still in good spirits and in the conversation at the top of the standings! also helps that when you get taken out of the race your girlfriend shovels the BEST paella ever into your mouth until you finally smile

view all comments

user19: bro got a girlfriend and personal chef all in one

yourusername: food is my love language and when babe gets twatted into the barriers by SOMEONE i will personally feed him some of his favourite food

user20: she's holding back

yourusername: PR said i couldn't say anything...

oscarpiastri: i love youuuuuuuuu and i love your paella i think it's laced with crack

logansargeant: @fia GET HIS ASS

yourusername: LOGIE BEAR?

logansargeant: i'm sorry, we're pretty desperate for the p7 here at williams

yourusername: i respect that

oscarpiastri: Y/N????

yourusername: MORE PAELLA

carlossainz55: big respect for the paella, definitely looks authentic

yourusername: OBVIOUSLY IT'S AUTHENTIC DO YOU THINK MY QUALIFICATIONS ARE A JOKE

yourusername: lol sorry thank you actually SPANISH F1 DRIVER APPROVED PAELLA

oscarpiastri: @fernandoalo_oficial can we get another good review please and thank you

fernandoalo_oficial: looks good, need a taste to be sure

yourusername: it's coming your way (please return the tupperware tho please)

mclarenf1: you'll come back stronger oscar 💪

oscarpiastri: fuelled by love and paella

yourusername: fuelled by VENOM AND THE WILL TO WIN AND CRUSH THE COMPETITION

oscarpiastri: and that 🫶

note: here's a short and sweet one that MAY return to finish out this fictional season ... i also just love this kind of set up for an imagine. it's a lil short i know but the CHRISTMAS CRAFTS ARE COMING IN FAST AND THE CROSS STITCH CHRISTMAS CARDS ARE SLAYING THE HOUSE DOWN

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

OMG. What if Spencer finds out reader is pregnant, then they’re obviously like SUPER HAPPY! then they go to the ultrasound technician and find out they’re having….

TWINSSS!!

part of my pregnant!reader series. it’s like with my mom and her twin sister, a rare family pairing.

“okay if we have another girl let’s name her…”

“well i think we’re gonna have a boy this time and i like matthew. mattys a cute nickname.”

spencer chuckled, “okay, matthew for boy. and charlotte for a girl, it dates back to the fourteenth century and means ‘free man’ and ‘petite’. and matthew is a traditional hebrew name meaning ‘gift of god’.”

you rubbed both palms over your exposed stomach, “you don’t have to be any of those meanings, little one. i just like the names.” whispering for the the growing apple.

you and spencer were waiting in the ultrasound room at your gyno’s office. you were six months along and this was the finally check up to make sure the fetus was still healthy and no complications were showing. their kicking seemed to be more active, you could barely sleep last night as your intestines were used like a punching bag.

there was a knock then the technician stepped into the room, “hello mr and mrs. reid. i see that this is your second child. would you like to know the gender or wait until the birth?” she sent her chart down, snapped her gloves on and started to apply the ice cold topical.

“oh!” a quiet noise from you. “uh, we’ve decided to know this time. we waited with our first child and just thought this might move some things along faster.” turning to look at spencer and both of you smiled delicately at each other.

“alrighty, let’s see this little one.” she set the tool near your bellybutton then began to move it around until movement showed on the screen beside her, “our little star and, oh…”

she got quiet while looking closer at the monitor and vitals. you felt your heart beat faster by two and squeezed spencer’s hands a little tight, “is- are they okay?”

the technician smiled, her eyes on the screen then to you. “well it looks like your family is growing by two. it’s twins.”

“…twins?” spencer sounded speechless. “chances of twins is one in forty-three worldwide. there aren’t even any know twins on either side of our family.” his mouth running faster then his mind.

she laughs, “well it looks like the second one was just more quiet. and also it looks to be a boy and girl, fraternal twins. and they are both in perfect health.” she worked on printing out pictures then wiped down your stomach, “also i heard that mothers of twins will live longer since their body has to be stronger growing two fetus at once.”

“that’s a pretty nice thought.” she left the two of you to grab your pictures.

spencer rubbed a knuckle over your cheek, a dreamy smile on his face. “looks like we both get to have our baby names,” giving your forehead a loving kiss.

“and you’re getting a vasectomy.”

[bratbby333]

Why do I think like gamer bf Sukuna likes to play like this lmao https://images.app.goo.gl/EQwpjhL4crMRCDYK7

(Hope the link will work 🙏🏻)

the way i started giggling n kicking my feet when i clicked the link oh my GOODNESS he so would😮‍💨

i was immediately sent into my mind palace and couldn’t stop thinking abt it so here’s more gamer!boyfie kuna hc’s in reference to the pic 💞

nsfw mdni

instead of him hitting the sofa when he got mad he’d slap ur ass

every smack would make you fucking soaked n you’d whimper and whine and buck your hips away from him n he’d just chuckle, “be still n take it, brat.” and ughjwkekwkw yes sir.

the sight of your cheeks getting redder n redder, his hand print becoming more visible as time went on…the way ur pussy would be dripping…omg it would make him rock fucking hard (bro’s a sadist trust)

and if he’s reaaallyy horny but doesn’t wanna stop playing he’d have you sit like this with no panties on n he’d munch between each round, maybe even during the game cause he’s just built dif

he’d most def start fingering you while he’s on discord w his friends and if you made a sound he’d stop

but sometimes he’d get real bold n turn his mic sensitivity up so his friends could hear how good he makes you feel

cause you can’t tell me sukuna isn’t a fuckin exhibitionist

and!! and!! every time his controller would vibrate he’d press it against ur clit uGH he’d love teasing you like that 🤭🤭 it would be so sporadic n unexpected but he’d press it so firmly against you n your back would arch so deeply and he’d run it between your slit n then lick ur juices off the controller oooohhhh my fucking godddd

when he sees how fucking needy you are for him after all that teasing, the way you’re begging him for more, he’d shift you lower in his lap and lean back a bit so you can bounce on his cock while he plays ugh

sweet jesus i need him so fucking bad

thank u my sweet anon for this beautiful submission 😩💞 i apologize for getting carried away

[p1utofairy]

PAC: “you just like my sidekick, i just wanna ride…fulfill all your desires.” ♾️🕊️🖤

• what will the courting stage be like?

disclaimer ✩: 18+ mature themes. take what resonates, leave what doesn't. hope you all enjoy! p.s. don't be afraid to submit me your thoughts on my pacs.

pile 1 💒 —

hiii pile 1 welcome to your reading! right away i'm already hearing that you and your person share similar values and morals in the sense of how a relationship should be built on honesty, loyalty and trust. your person is veryyy traditional like when you two go out together, they'll want to treat you. or if you see something you really like they'll go out of their way to make sure you have it. they'll have a strong urge to provide for you, and at first you might be a little wary of this because you don't want them thinking that you need them for everything or that you'll become co-dependent (but that's not the case at all) they just want you to know that they'll always be there for you; if you need them. as you start getting to know them more, i think you'll be more open to being spontaneous and embarking on a fresh and exciting journey with them. i feel like you're a bit guarded/protective of your heart and although you really want this relationship with them…the fact that you'll be so open and vulnerable scares you. fear not, pile 1. be willing to embrace the unknown because your person is going to value and appreciate you so much! i just heard "like the royalty you are." OKAYYYY! let it happen by tame impala is coming to mind, "just let it happen, let it happen." exactly, just relax and don't self-sabotage! your person is very secure and reliable, i feel so much comfort in this connection. when you two go on dates i can see them intently listening and giving you such intense eye contact, like they're just soaking up your every word. i can see them squishing your cheeks randomly hehe i also pick up that there will be a great balance of giving and receiving, (physical touch and receiving gifts might be their love language) ugh you two are going to make each other so happy. you both have very youthful energies, it's sooo cute. whenever you are in each other's presence it's gonna feel like it's just you two, the rest of the world will become background noise. i see a lot of goofing around, them brushing the hair out of your eyes and just staring at you all lovingly…kissing your cheeks/neck just to hear you laugh. i just heard "you make it so easy to love you." AWWW. they're almost like a love sick puppy, i can't lie. love is gonna be so evident in their eyes whenever they look at you. i can see you two just laying together…everything is quiet and still & you just trace your fingers gently over their eyes, lips and nose and they have this cute sleepy smile on their face. i'm hearing you're the "okokokok" part of see you again by tyler the creator ft. kali uchis and they're the "lalalalala" lmfaooo that's so random but so damn cute.

other channeled messages:

sitting on a park bench, get you by daniel caesar ft. kali uchis, golden hour pictures, nasa by ariana grande, floral printed dress, pisces mercury, gemini venus, riding bikes together, just the two of us by grover washington ft. bill withers

pile 2 💐 —

heyyy pile 222 ⭐️ ooo the lovey dovey vibes are REAL omg your person loves to love you! if they could roll out a red carpet for you to walk on every time y'all step out together…they would. it's gonna surprise you how much they pay attention to little details about you so that they can surprise you with cute (i'm also hearing lavish) gifts! however, i feel like you might hold out on them in the beginning or make them sort of wait for your attention? some of you could have never been in a relationship before or have been single for a long time, and the connection is going to feel foreign at first. you're going to be navigating some pretty complex feelings/emotions but this person is willing to wait and accommodate whatever you need, even if it is space. your person is used to taking action right away, so taking a steady approach to building this connection with you will be a good balance for them. once things start moving along you'll really understand how deep their feelings are for you lol they're very direct and will not hesitate to make it known. your person has strong fire sign/leo energy whereas some of you that chose this pile give water sign vibes. when you initially meet them you may think to yourself "psh, we wouldn't work." because you two are a bit different in terms of personality, but if anything that'll draw you closer together. summer renaissance by beyoncé is playing and i can hear "it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's so good, it's sooooo gooood." yeah you're gonna fold pile 2 LMAOOOOO you can't resist them! i feel like they’ll give you a cute tennis bracelet or a watch and be like “here you go, it’s the anniversary of the day we first started texting each other.” 😭 so imagine when you two actually make it OFFICIAL. awww i’m hearing your gonna hit the jackpot with this person pile 2.

other channeled messages:

national anthem by lana del rey, you're so sentimental baby, fireworks, coquette aesthetic, let the light in by lana del rey ft. father john misty, lover boy era, sweet thing by mary j. blige

pile 3 🍑 —

whatta man by en vogue & salt-n-peppa immediately came to mind, pile 3. LOL your person is gonna rock your world (i'm hearing literally and metaphorically) OKAYYY pile 3 spicy, spicy! “you so crazyyy. i think i wanna have your baby.” part of the song just played wow your person is gonna have you whipped. you and your person both have a lot of great things going for yourselves, and i think you both share that same sense of passion and ambition. i’m hearing that you’re powerful manifestors pile 3, you know how to make your dreams become your reality. this will draw your person closer to you because they are very dedicated and willful when it comes to their goals and aspirations in life, so to have a person like you match their energy will make them feel good. company by justin bieber just started playing in my mind, “can we be, can we be, be each other’s company?” lol i wouldn’t be surprised if they were scoping you out for awhile before making the first move. they’re curious about you…they wanna know every and anything about you. you’re like an enigma to them and this person is very inquisitive and open-minded. they’ll like doing things with you that stimulate their mind like taking you to museums, concerts/musicals and maybe even escape rooms. they like to have a lot of fun and make the best of life. i think that your person is very in-tune with their feelings and they'll bring a strong sense of emotional stability and care to the relationship. dare i say it, the vibe reminds me of selena gomez and justin bieber’s relationship in its prime. it’s funny because after i listened to company…bad liar by selena gomez started playing lol. “i'm tryin'…not to give in to you. no, not to give in to you. with my feelings on fire…guess i'm a bad liar.” you may play hard to get at first pile 3 because i feel like you’ve been let down/disappointed by masculine figures in your life before, and you’re hoping this connection doesn’t let you down either. don't hold past situations against them though, because they are quite the opposite. they’re going to prioritize their connection with you and always make sure that you’re taken care of. they’ll take it nice and slow with you if you want…omfg your person is such a flirt. very much nice & slow by usher vibes. love this for you pile 3, i really do!

other channeled messages:

motive by ariana grande ft. doja cat, motivation by kelly rowland ft. lil wayne, comes from a very well off/rich family, aries, libra sun, taurus moon, infj, hey peach, georgia miller and zion miller, peaches & cream by 112 ft. p diddy, ordinary people by john legend

pile 4 💍 —

pile 4 can i just start by say that your person is so lover by taylor swift coded. “can i go where you go? can we always, be this close? forever and ever.” AHHH so cute. things may develop between you two rather quickly, there will be a lot of excitement and anticipation building up. into you by ariana grande just came to mind. this person might be a little different from your usual “type”/may not be the type of person you’d usually go for (i’d say personality-wise, cause looks-wise they’re very cute i’m hearing) but there’s something about them that’ll draw you to them like a magnet. it’ll almost make you feel appalled at how much you look forward to hearing back from them or being super excited for your next date with them. i’m hearing you tell yourself, “STAND UP!” lmaoooo y’all are so funny pile 4. your person is gonna love your sense of humor hehe you’re so sarcastic and witty. you’re gonna love how your person takes the reins of this relationship lol all you have to do is sit back and be pretty. girls need love by summer walker just started playing, “honestly, i’m tryna stay focused. you must think i’ve got to be joking when i say…i don't think i can wait. i just need it now, better swing my way.” yeahhh you’re gonna love them so much pile 4, the passion is sooooo strong. this connection will be very abundant and transformative for the both of you.

other channeled messages:

not nice by partynextdoor, confetti cake, silk red dress, 2000s rom-com type of love, infp, sleeping beauty, leo moon, capricorn rising, 10h placements, gemini or cancer mercury

[ginkgo-phyta]

I'm back again 😅

Hopefully, I'm not the only person with this opinion, but how do you think Spencer would react if his significant other told him that they thought he looked hot with his bulletproof vest on? 👀

omg is this injured spencer request anon?? I NEED TO KNOW im so sorry if it's not tho, whoever you are thank you so much for coming back!! i love you with all my heart you should use a special emoji as like ur own lil signature! :D

okay so i wanted to try blurb(?) format but mmm okay not really cuz just a wall of text was stressing me out but this is def more informal than my other work (look no capital letters!) and because i love you so much i present two scenarios for you :P... i cant fight this feeling anymore guys he rlly is so hot in his vest im becoming my most feral self grrrrr RAH RAH ALRIGHT hope you enjoy, my love!

OKAY SO SPENCER REACTING TO YOU TELING HIM HE'S HOT IN HIS FBI VEST gn! reader, fluff, second scenario a little steamy in tone but nothing explicit just h*rny vibes, no other warnings

if you weren't a profiler: you'd never thought about it before- spencer in his bulletproof vest. sure, you knew that his job required him to go into sticky situations where the prospect of gunfire was imminent and he would have to wear proper equipment, but you never put two nd two together. you never even thought of a kevlar vest as something that could be hot...until you saw a picture of him wearing it.

"what the hell is that." you blurt out, voice serious with hints of concern.

"huh?" spencer's as clueless as ever, a little worried about your reaction. he was just showing you random photos his team members had taken over the years, all printed out for easy viewing courtesy of the ever-so-accommodating penolope garcia. someone had taken a pic of a beautiful lake where the bau had saved yet another victim, the sun dipping below the horizon line of pine trees, painting the sky purple and pink. "um...the sunset?" spencer was confused, "i guess maybe it was kinda a weird time to take a photo, but no one was hurt and we caught the unsub and the sky really did look-"

you cut off his rambling with a wave of your hand, eyes never leaving the photo in front of you, "no, no...what's that." you point to what you were talking about, a figure standing off to the side.

spencer takes a minute, becoming even more bewildered "...me?" in that moment your world changed.

"oh my god... "you whispered in a daze, firmly pulling the picture out of spencer's fingers and into your own, "what...what are you wearing?"

"honey what's wrong? it's just my bulletproof vest. i know it might look a little funny, but it, y'know, keeps me alive..." he scratches the back of his neck. a couple seconds of silence pass, but to spencer it feels excruciatingly long.

"spencer," you look at up at him deadpan "you look so fucking hot." to say your boyfriend was shocked would be an understatement.

he was absolutely blown away by your response, so much so that the way his face contorted looked borderline disgusted. "wha-what?? huh? what?" he clamored, eyes flitting over your face to find any sign you were joking.

"seriously, baby, you look so good. oh, my God!!" you almost shriek, gripping the picture tighter, the widest, dumbest grin pulling up your cheeks as you giggle like a schoolgirl.

spencer smiles at your reaction, still a little perplexed "you really think so?" the notion begins to sink into his bones, making him giddy.

you very enthusiastically nod your head, "are there any more pictures of you like this?" you rip the rest of the photos out of spencer's hands, scouring through them at light speed. out of nowhere, spencer laughs out loud, his nose scrunching in delight.

"i...don't know what to say. i'm flattered you think that," a wonderful blush shimmers over his cheeks, "but no i don't think there are. sadly." he playfully adds.

you stop all movements, slowly turning towards him, suspiciously calm. "well then," you grab your phone and suddenly stand up "looks like i'll just have to ask penelope for some!"

"wait! wait, no!" spencer calls after you as you start speed-walking away, your shirt barely escaping his fingertips. he yells out your name, his serious tone interrupted by a giggle of his own as he begins chasing you, "get back here!" he knows: garcia can never ever find out about this...

if you were a profiler: you had seen spencer don his FBI branded bulletproof vest hundreds of times over the years. although you had pined over him for years and were now finally in a relationship with him, seeing him like that didn't make you feel any type of way really. sure, you thought he looked strong and handsome, but most of the time you were too caught up in the case or situation at hand to focus on how he looked. until now. something had shifted in him in the last few months, not just with his ever-changing haircut, but within the way he held himself; more confident, more sure of himself, even more cocky, if you will. whatever it was, it drew your eyes to him in his tight little vest like a lightbulb draws in moths- instantly and continuously. it all came to a head when you caught the unsub responsible for drowning and resuscitating his victims until they couldn't be brought back to life. spencer dove into the lake with emily to apprehend the killer while you had helped the kid he had hostage reunite with his mother. you smiled at the scene in front of you, the teenager running into his mother's shaking arms, her holding him close in a tight embrace. another good ending, you thought to yourself before turning back to watch your fellow profilers make the arrest. suddenly, you mouth goes dry. there spencer reid stood; soaking wet, clothes sticking to his skin, chest rising and falling as he panted to catch his breath, his hand pushing his wet hair out of his face. and that stupid, goddamn kevlar vest. oh, fuck. the others walked away from the dock to situate everyone and themselves in respected vehicles that sat back on the road a few hundred feet away from where you currently were. as spencer moved to follow behind emily, hands trying to flick the water off of him, your gaze stopped him in his tracks. he stood there, a bit confused as to why you were walking towards him, seemingly entranced, instead of beelining behind everyone else.

he spoke out your name, but you remained silent, stopping just a couple feet away from him. you took him in one more time: the way his shirt became translucent, granting you with peeks of his skin; his sleeves rolled up, showing off his delicious forearms; the way his soaked pants choked his thick thighs. you became woozy with desire. spencer watched as your eyes dragged over his figure, drinking in every inch of his dripping body. "oh, baby..." you voice drawled out as soon as your gaze landed on his bulletproof vest, "you're absolutely soaking wet." spencer's eyebrows shot up his forehead at the suggestive twinkle in your timbre. you approached him further, chest just inches away from his. if he wasn't so intrigued by your reaction, he would have been a bit more cautious of lingering teammates. your hands came up to ghost over his vest, "did i ever tell you how good i think you look in this?" you looked up at him through your lashes.

spencer chuckled, "in the bulletproof vest?" you nodded in response, but spencer still couldn't really believe it. "uh, no, actually, you haven't." his eyes glinted at the way you bit your lip, his hands moving on their own accord to rest on your hips. you could feel droplets of water seep into the material and lick your skin, but you didn't give a rat's ass.

"well, you do." you whisper, hands wrapping around the back of his neck as you pull yourself up to press a kiss to his lips, "really, really good." your mouth moves enticingly with his.

"oh? is that so?" he whispers against your lips, diving back in, his fingers digging in your hips. he graciously kisses you for a moment before it dawns on him that you're both still at work- in an active crime scene, at that. "mmh, mmh!" he vocalizes between kisses as he tries to move his head back a smidge. his eyes peak open just enough to see if anyone else was around. your lips are addicting, rendering him unable to fully tell you to stop, unable to fully pull away himself. he's relieved when he spots no one. still, he know this is far from appropriate. spencer's hands move up your body to wrap around your wrists behind him, pulling them away from him and the same time he pulled away from you, "okay, okay!" he breathes out with a chuckle, "i believe you now" he tries to catch his bearings, but your pouting face causes him to laugh again

"spencerrrr," you groan at the loss of your beloved's kisses and he turns you around and pushes you towards the spot where the others vanished, walking behind you with his hands on your shoulders, your body held at an arm's distance.

"let's go, angel." his words brought out a hmph! from you. "we can do more of that later at home" he whispers, leaning in ever-so-slightly.

you turn your head back to get a glimpse of him, your eyes and smile equally wide with excitement, "can you bring the vest with you?!"

A/N: OKAYYYY lemme stop myself before things get filthy LOL do yall know which episode im referring to in the second scenario? that end scene will always get me my eye are GLUED to spencer the entire time GODDAMN. okay anyway i hope you liked this anon!!! pls tell me yalls thoughts <3

[itsxroxannex]

You think Killer has shoes that have cat paw prints on soles?

OMG I WOULD LOVE THAT !! 😭😭😭🤲🤲🤲✨😭✨🤲✨😭

[paradiseprincesss]

Omg omggg I love having people to talk about our favorite supervillain!!!🥹🥹 I want to talk about this concept!! Hehe

Jonathan Crane would sooo love having an innocent gf, like just imagine Y/n being a family friend of Rachel’s, she’s a student teacher (studying to be a kindergarten teacher) and is living with Rachel through her collage years and meets Jon when some of Rachel’s court paperwork gets mixed up with Y/n’s teacher ones, like imagine she’s rushing to get them to Rachel and literally runs INTO Jonathan but gets knocked over and the papers go flying because he is a TALL man lmao. She’s profusely apologizing and Jonathan just has his eyebrows raised in confusion and a frown, which then turns into a smirk when she says she’s looking for her friend Rachel (Jonathan sees an opportunity to use Y/n to get to Rachel) Omggg but like imagine Y/n being oblivious to the danger and is just so sweet and adorable to Jonathan that he can’t go through with it🥹

His court look🔥🔥🔥

Who allowed him to be this gorgeous (and insane) WHO????

tattooed heart - jonathan crane x reader

masterlist

notes: i did not specify the readers major sorry sorry! but i had tattooed heart on repeat while writing this and i was like that song is jonathan cranes gf coded.

word count: 5.9k

summary: you're rachel dawes's college-aged childhood best friend and roommate, and one day your lecture notes get mixed up with her court documents. in a rush to bring the correct papers to her at the courthouse, you bump into none other than doctor jonathan crane.

warnings: smut 18+ mdni, swearing, kissing, p in v, creampie and general smut lol

as you were getting ready for the day, you applied your blush in the mirror, cheeks all rosy and pink, matching your soft pink nails. perfect, you thought to yourself as you added the final touches to your makeup, and looked through your closet for something to wear.

rummaging through your wardrobe, you settle on a white and pink floral print mini dress, perfect for summer, and pair it with some white stilettos. you did your hair up in your favourite hairstyle, and sprayed yourself with your favourite perfume.

you were getting ready to go to brunch with your girlfriends as it was a gorgeous day outside, and the girls from your college were planning to have a little get together. as you were grabbing your purse, your phone started to go off. looking at the screen, you notice it was your long time friend, rachel.

you were currently rooming with her since you were in college full-time, and the two of you were super close - inseparable, honestly. she had told you that you could move in with her, as she had a two bedroom home but she lived there alone.

the two of you go way back - she used to babysit you when you were younger, as her mother was best friends with yours. despite her being almost a decade older than you, you guys got along wonderfully. you had known each other ever since you were young, and the longstanding friendship between you two was something you both cherished deeply.

“hello?” you say, answering the phone.

“hey, so please don't hate me," she whines over the phone, "but i accidentally grabbed your papers instead of my court documents, i must've gotten them mixed up this morning."

"shoot - uh, okay. i'll be there in like twenty minutes and i'll bring them to you. where are they?" you ask her.

"the dining table, or somewhere in the kitchen - gotta go, see you in a bit. love you, your the best!" she says, hanging up.

sighing, you collect her stack of papers from the dining table, and grab your purse as you head out. the drive to the courthouse luckily wasn't too far off from where you were supposed to meet your friends, as the restaurant was only about a five minute drive from there.

putting your car into park, you grab her belongings along with yours, and step out your car, locking it behind you. as your high heels clicked against the ground, you looked around to see if maybe you could spot her. the inside of the courthouse was busy, and you were trying to find her as quick as possible since you knew this was a time sensitive matter.

you look through hallways and doorways, but didn't see rachel anywhere. you continue to pace up and down the halls, peering into empty rooms, trying to spot her. finally - you saw her standing at the end of a hallway near the back of the courthouse, and you rush over to her in your stilettos.

suddenly, with an "oof," you felt the wind get knocked out of you as the papers went flying. luckily, you didn't fall or anything, but every single sheet of paper did. as you glanced up, you noticed a very tall, (and very handsome) man in a suit and tie with glasses - and intoxicatingly blue eyes. the man stood at a good height of around six foot three, and managed to tower over you even with your high heels on.

"i-i'm so sorry." you say, flustered.

the handsome stranger raises a brow at you, seemingly irritated. he didn't appear to be too friendly, and he spoke sharply after you apologized. "you should really be more careful." he says to you, leaning down to help you grab your papers.

"o-of course," you stammer as he hands you the papers, "thank you, i'm sorry again. i was just in such a rush to get these to my friend, rachel, over there." you point to rachel, who finally noticed you, and ushered you over.

"miss dawes?" he asks, his tone shifting to something more curious, "you're a friend of hers?"

"she's known me ever since i was in elementary school. she mixed her papers up with my lecture notes this morning, so hence why i'm here bringing these to her." you say innocently, holding up the court documents. "i'm sorry, again."

he eyed you curiously for a moment, before smirking slightly. "that's quite alright. i never got your name, actually."

you tell him your name, and he responds to you once more, but his tone seemingly shifted into one much softer than before. "beautiful name, really."

before you had a chance to react, who you presumed to be another lawyer had rushed over to the two of you before speaking to jonathan.

"doctor crane, you're needed in the courtroom. mr. zsasz's legal team would like a word." he says in a hushed manner, before making his way back into the courtroom he came from.

"wait, you're jonathan crane?" you ask him with surprise.

you'd heard a lot about his work, it was phenomenal. he had made multiple headlines with his breakthroughs in psychology and psychopharmacology. his name was plastered on papers and articles, and he was very well-known in gotham for his achievements in his field, especially at only thirty-two years old.

"indeed i am." he says softly, and you could've sworn you saw fight back a smile.

"'i've heard about your work, it's incredible what you're doing." you tell him, to which he simply shakes his head.

"i respect the mind's power over the body," he says to you simply, "it's why i do what i do."

for a moment, you swore time stopped as the two of you locked eyes; his electrifyingly blue ones staring right into yours. however, that moment was cut short as a voice you recognized called out behind you.

"there you are!" rachels voice brings you out of your thoughts, causing you to turn around, "i told you to come over there, carl wanted to say hi." she points to carl finch, who was waving at you from a distance before returning to his conversation with someone else.

"right, sorry. i accidentally bumped into jonathan." you say with a smile, glancing at him, but rachel doesn't seem too happy to see him.

"doctor crane." she says as she acknowledges him unenthusiastically, clearly unimpressed with his presence.

"miss. dawes." he says back, just as annoyed, before changing his tone back to sweet and soft as he looks at you. "i'm afraid i have some matters to attend to, however, it was lovely meeting you. perhaps be a little more careful on your way out - don't want you bumping into anyone else." he said almost teasingly, before swiftly going back to where he was needed.

you smile to yourself, staring at the tall man as he walked away.

"don't tell me you bumped into jonathan crane of all people." rachel says, and you raise your brow.

"what? he seems nice, honestly." you tell her, but to that she scoffs.

"nice? god, no. i'm surprised he didn't rip you to shreds for bumping into him." she tells you, clearly irritated at just the thought of him. "i find it strange, you know. every time i try to get one of falcone's thugs locked up, he somehow gets the court to agree that their insane, and puts them into arkham."

as she was telling you this, it was going in one ear and right out the other, as your mind was too busy with the racing thoughts of doctor jonathan crane. his intoxicating smile, his baby blue eyes, everything about him was gorgeous - not to mention his height!

now, jonathan on the other hand, was thinking of you for an entirely different reason. yes, he found you to be pretty - beautiful, actually, he thought you were stunning, but that didn't stop him from seeing you as a means to get to rachel. jonathan crane was an opportunist, he was already plotting the second you told him you and rachel were practically sisters.

he figured that if he got close to you, he would get closer to rachel - meaning it would be easier to take her down and get her to stop sniffing around. he wasn't entirely sure how he was going to do it yet - though he had a few plans that he'd thought of. his first idea was to threaten you, scare you into giving information over about her, perhaps if he scared you enough, you would tell rachel to stop meddling with his plans.

but that didn't seem airtight enough. however...there was another idea that struck him - and it seemed to be the safer (and smarter) option. he would make you believe that he was falling for you, get you to trust him - and then once he had your heart in his hands, use you as leverage to get rachel to stay out of his way.

it was simple, really. he wasn't going to seriously harm you, just kidnap you once you let your guard down, then use you as ransom (hm, more like hostage) to persuade rachel to step down from any current and future cases where he had to act as an expert witness.

"are you listening?" rachels voice brought you back to reality, and you nod while she looks through her papers. "yeah - sorry, i'm late to this thing i have with my friends. i gotta go." you say, waving goodbye to her and checking your phone, realizing you needed to leave.

you swiftly drove over to brunch with your girlfriends, and the whole time, you found yourself fixated on the thought of jonathan. there was something about him, something that made your heart swell. perhaps it was his gorgeous eyes, or maybe it was that stunningly chiseled face - whatever it may be, he had a hold on your heart, that was for sure.

after saying your goodbyes to your friends after brunch, you headed off to the grocery store to run some errands. the sun was shining brightly, and the weather was gorgeous, so you decided to spend as much of your day outside as you could. as you were grabbing some apples from one of the produce bins, you turned around and-

ugh, not again!

you felt your body collide into someone else's, and you internally slapped yourself; why twice in one day?!

as you were about to start profusely apologizing, you noticed that you were eye level with a very familiar suit and tie - looking up, you see none other than jonathan crane; and this time, he's actually smiling.

"clumsy one, aren't you?" he teases, and you blush.

"i just can't seem to escape you, i guess," you say back, your pink blush accentuating the apples of your cheeks, "i didn't expect to literally bump into you again so soon."

"i had to run some errands, figured i'd do it after the whole court thing." he says. "actually, i never had the chance to ask you for your number."

when he said that, you started to actually blush profusely, and you managed to stammer out a response. "o-oh, yeah, right."

"yeah so, can i grab it from you?" he asked teasingly, with a small smile.

"o-oh, yes totally." you say, flustered, and he gives you his phone to put your contact information into. after taking it back from you, he asked you a question. "are you busy at all tonight? i know it's a long shot, but..."

"i'm not, actually," you say back, "i don't have any classes for the next few days, it's a reading break."

"well, in that case - how about you join me for dinner tonight?" he asks softly, and you could feel your heart racing.

"yeah, that works. just text me the details then?" you say.

"will do," he says, shamelessly checking you out once more, "try not to bump into anyone else, seriously." he playfully teases, and you laugh softly.

that same evening, you had finished getting ready for your date with jonathan. you opted for a classy, but sexy, look for tonight, and threw on your favourite heels. with your hair freshly done and your makeup on point, you felt pretty - you looked pretty.

spraying on a few spritz of your favourite perfume, you grab your purse and head outside of your place to meet jonathan, as he had texted you that he was here. you felt your stomach do little flips on your way to his car, and even though you were a grown woman, you still felt like a silly school girl with a crush around him.

you spotted his car parked outside your apartment building - a brand new, 3 series bmw with blackout tinting, and gun metal coloured paint. stepping to the passenger door, he reaches over and pushes it open for you, and you get in.

"wow," he says softly, "you look gorgeous, darling."

his tone (and words, duh) made you blush, and you notice he's still in a suit - just a slightly different one, and this time, no sweater vest. "thank you," you say sweetly, "you look really good, too."

"ah, i appreciate it, darling." he tells you, smiling as he speeds off onto the road, driving ever so recklessly - which you thought was hot.

the night went flawlessly, jonathans plan was definitely working out the way he had hoped. the two of you talked endlessly over multiple glasses of wine and dinner, really getting to know each other on a personal level.

he told you all about his time in college, and why he chose to work in the field of psychology, which you found fascinating. you had always liked a mature, well spoken, and intelligent man. you'd told him about your current major, the classes you were taking and your passion for it, which he found endearing. he thought you were absolutely intelligent and found you extremely well spoken for someone your age.

you were just so...sweet. so kind, affectionate, and innocent. again, even if you didn't look that innocent, your personality shone through your exterior - and my goodness did he think you were adorable. your kindness was unmatched.

now, jonathan had originally set this plan into motion to take rachel down (obviously), but he found himself getting slightly distracted with you. sure, he wanted nothing more than to get rachel dawes to stop sniffing around his rather illegal and criminal activities, however, you were far more interesting than he had originally thought. yes, he thought you were jaw-dropping, stunning, gorgeous, angelic (the list just goes on...) when he first met you, but he simply thought you were a pretty face and nothing more.

but boy, was he wrong. you were so much more than that, you were magnificent in his eyes. he was wondering how the hell you didn't already have a boyfriend, as it seemed someone like you would have men lining up just to have a chance with you.

you were thinking the same thing, unbeknownst to him. it was insane, really. he was undeniably handsome, and my goodness was he smart - a man dedicated to his job and passions, so brilliant and ambitious, but yet he didn't have a woman in his life. you thought surely the universe was on your side when it caused the two of you to cross paths.

it had been approximately a month since you and jonathan had gone on your first date - and many more followed. the two of you were enamoured with each other, unable to leave one another alone. he was a busy man, he worked a lot - but he made exceptions when it came to you. he'd never done that before.

he mentally cursed at himself for acting like a lovesick fool, but fuck, he couldn't stop himself if he tried. for a man with such self control; he lost all his inhibitions when it came to you. he was so cold, so calculated and cynical...was he not? well, not around you. his cold, frozen heart was melting, and he hated it - sort of.

he hated that you happened to be the one person he was going to use as a pawn in order to get to rachel - but on the other hand, he couldn't deny how he felt. he always thought love was a waste of time, why be in a relationship when there is no use for such a thing? hm, well - you changed his mind on that, too. he wanted so desperately to be your man, the one for you. the one who got to hold you at night, for you to be the one he came home to after a particularly stressful day at work, the one with his last name - ugh, he was turning soft! and of course it had to be with you of all people.

tonight, jonathan had been working late when suddenly, a guard had knocked on his office door.

"yes?" he asked curtly, "what is it?"

the officer sighed as he opened the office door, "miss dawes from the DA's office is here to see you. she has more questions."

"tell her that i do not have the time for any more silly questions-"

"she brought that girl you always talk about with her."

"...i will be there shortly." he says, sighing as he puts his glasses back on.

okay so, jonathan may have let it slip that he was going out with you to his coworker a few weeks ago. this one coworker had asked him if he could help file a report, but jonathan had a date with you that night, so he had casually said something along the lines of "no, i've got a date with this girl," and the coworker was shocked.

jonathan crane was going on a date? and he was telling people about it? that was huge news, and it soon turned into workplace gossip. jonathan was seething but i mean, he did it to himself, and this was the exact reason why he always kept his personal life separate from work.

jonathan made his way down from his office to go see rachel and you. he wasn't sure why you were here, but he didn't care. it didn't matter as long as he got to see you.

"miss dawes," he says, walking up to her, whilst softly smiling at you. however, once he looked back at her, his stone cold demeanour returned. "this is most irregular - i have nothing further to add to the report i've filed with the judge."

"i have questions about your report." she says nonchalantly, and you watch the interaction between the two of them.

you had driven her here, as her car was currently at the mechanics for maintenance, you had offered. that's what best friends do, after all. you'd insisted that you wait in the car for her, as you didn't want to come off as intruding on him at work, but she said it wasn't safe for you to wait all alone, in the dark, in gotham at an asylum parking lot. you couldn't lie - she had a point.

"uh, i'm just going to wait in the car, i think." you say to them both quietly, but rachel shakes her head. "nonsense, i'll only be a minute. like i said, i have questions, doctor crane."

"such as?" he asks.

"isn't it convenient for a fifty-two year old man who has no history of mental illness to suddenly have a complete psychotic breakdown just when he's about to be indicted?" she sneers, and he stares at her with a cold, emotionless stare.

"well, as you can see for yourself, there's nothing convenient about his symptoms." he says smoothly, and you notice behind the glass window, who appears to be carmine falcone is on a medical bed, incoherently mumbling to himself.

the two of them continue their little verbal quarrel, and you couldn't help but feel a little out of place, and perhaps, a little awkward as well as you watched the man you were falling in love with and your best friend argue over this.

eventually, rachel had threatened him saying she had paged another doctor at county general to go over falcones toxicology report, as she wanted to know exactly what crane had put him on. jonathan looked like he was holding his tongue, and you could tell he was getting irritated - you could see it in the way he was clenching his jaw silently.

he softly looked over at you, saying your name sweetly. "would you care to join me downstairs, darling?" he says, then turns back to rachel, looking annoyed. "perhaps we should discuss this another time, miss dawes."

"she is not going anywhere, especially with you." rachel sneered, and you huffed.

"okay, enough. i think we should all just take a breather, and just chill for a second. i'll be back, okay rachel? i told jonathan- er, doctor crane, that i was intrigued about his work here. he just wants to show me around; i asked the last time i saw him." you tell her, looking between her and jonathan.

rachel knew that you had been seeing him, and she was supportive (well, as best as she could be) since she adored you, but she despised him. she just couldn't wrap her around how someone as diabolical as him could get along with someone as sweet as you.

"fine, okay." she sighs, and jonathan softly takes your hand in his, leading you to an elevator that looked to be quite old and rigid, but you pushed it aside.

he took a key and turned it, as wherever he was taking you was clearly a restricted access area, and the two of you stood side by side, hand in hand as the elevator went downstairs.

yes - this was all part of jonathans plan to cut rachel out of the picture, to get her away from his criminal plans and secret toxins that he had been putting into gothams water supply. he was going to gas you next, as he knew rachel would come looking for you, then hold you for ransom (again, more like hostage), until rachel agreed to stop getting involved and dropped her involvement in any cases he worked all together.

as the elevator dinged, he stepped out first, leading the way with his hand resting gently on your back; the feeling was electrifying. his hands on you - it was driving you crazy. jonathan wasn't a very trusting person, so the two of you had gone on countless dates - but he didn't ask you out yet, ask you to be his, and you guys hadn't actually had sex yet, which you found a little endearing, if you were being honest. it seemed like he respected you and wanted more than just a quick hookup.

"this way, please." he says, his voice saccharine as he talks to you. as you follow his lead, he then takes your hand in his once more, and pushes a large, heavy, metal door open. you followed him, hand in hand, and continued to go along with whatever it was he was doing. you didn't think twice about it; you never felt a sense of danger near him.

glancing down from the top of a cascading staircase, you see what appeared to be inmates or patients of arkham asylum, in their jumpsuits, working with various chemicals and pouring them into some sort of water supply - a sewerage of some sort, maybe? you blink a few times, but eventually you look over at him with an innocent and adorably confused expression.

jonathan pauses for a moment, looking down at you and your small frame in comparison to his, and takes note of how cute you truly were. god, you were so pretty. sighing, he continued, trying his hardest not to let you affect him in any way. "this is where we make the medicine," he says, "perhaps you should..."

he trailed off before he could say "have some," unable to finish his sentence, and you look at him with that adorable pout that you had many times before.

he couldn't go through with it. this was the final part of his plan! he was supposed to hold you hostage! how else was he going to get rid of rachel dawes and stop her from meddling? you were like, his last resort, or something along those lines.

sighing, he shook his head. "no, i can't do this to you." he says, his voice soft, matching his expression.

"what are you talking about?" you ask innocently, as if you were oblivious to the scene around you. one thing about you was that you tended to see the good in people; even if others found them distasteful, you managed to see their best qualities.

therefore, when jonathan took you into some kind of illegal, criminal chemical distribution and production centre for his fear toxin, you innately looked past it - a typical you thing to do. they do say that ignorance is bliss, right?

jonathan eyed you curiously - were you serious? "do you know where you are right now?" he asked, tone still soft as he spoke to you.

"yeah, arkham asylum." you respond cutely, and he almost laughed. you were so adorable - so sweet.

"no- like, where we are right now, as in where we're standing." he clarifies, hoping you would understand.

"a lab?" you ask hopefully, and he nods, looking at you with a small smile.

"something like that, yes," he laughs softly, "you don't see the problem here?"

you tilt your head to the side to really emphasize your confusion, and jonathan feels this strange sensation in his chest - almost like there were butterflies flying around freely in there. "well, should i see a problem with this?" you ask innocently.

"yes," he says, "yes, you should. does this not bother you at all?"

"not really, no."

"but why?"

"cause i like you." you say, and he goes quiet.

you like him? you like him? you like him. for some reason, this makes his heart beat about a million miles a minute, and he gets flustered - nearly choked up. jonathan crane of all people wasn't one to ever be at a loss for words, but love changes us in ways we wouldn't dream of.

for a moment, you thought you'd really fucked up this time. he was quiet for so long, you thought perhaps you should take it back - save yourself before it was too late; confessing your feelings when they weren't mutual was one of the most embarrassing things that you felt could happen to you. but, before you could take back your little confession, his hands were on your waist, pulling you close to him.

his expression was something you'd never seen before, almost like he was searching your eyes for any trace of a lie, really trying to see if you were being honest with him. vulnerability didn't come easy to jonathan, and his walls were up so high - they were almost unbreakable.

almost.

as he pulled you close, his hands rested on your waist gently, pulling you flush against his body as he looked down at you. "you have feelings for me?" he asked quietly, and you nod.

"of course i do, i thought it was obvious..." you say just as quietly, your eyes trailing over his pink, plush lips.

suddenly, he was pulling you into a gentle kiss, which you immediately melted into, letting yourself fall into him. neither of you fought the fall this time, especially not jonathan.

"i need you," he whispered against your lips, "i think i-" he stopped himself, his heart skipping and his brain short circuiting from the thought of finishing his sentence.

"hm?" you ask cutely, pulling away from the kiss.

"i think i love you." he says quickly, and you smile sweetly at him. "i know i love you." you reassure him, and he smiles back at you. "darling, you truly are something else."

before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking away as if you were teenagers again. he took you through the staff only parts of the asylum, and eventually led you to the underground parking garage. the two of you were laughing amongst yourselves, acting like two high school students in love.

you had asked a security officer to hand the keys to your car to rachel, so that she could drive home, and shot her a text that simply read: "i owe u, pls dont hate me ok ily bye."

she sent back the following: "ughhh fine"

like jonathan, she also had a soft spot for you, even when you did things like this - you were like a baby sister to her, she adored you even if you were trying to sleep with the "enemy." well, her enemy anyways.

it was quite cold on this particular night, even though it was the middle of summer. as the two of you walked through the parkade, jonathan noticed that you were shivering slightly, and he quickly took off his suit jacket. wrapping it around your shoulders, he pulled you close, placing a few chaste kisses on your neck and behind your ear, as the two of you rushed to get into his car.

jonathan and you swiftly got in his car, his hand on your thigh as the two of you sped off to his place. the minute you two got out and stepped into his apartment building, the both of you were pressed up against each other. the two of you sharing sloppy kisses as you tried your best to hurry up and get into his apartment from the elevator, wanting nothing more than to get your hands on each other.

as he closed his apartment door and locked it behind him, you pounced on him, locking your lips with his in an instant. he needed you - and you needed him. both desperate and needy, you make out feverishly, hungry for more. it was meant to be - it must be. the way the moonlight shone through the big, glass window of his bedroom, illuminating you both as you made the moment yours.

you rush to help him out of his clothes; sloppy, hot kisses being shared between the both of you. he pushes you back onto his soft mattress, and he tugs your clothes off of you, pawing at your breasts through your lacy bra. once you were in just your lacy bra and matching lacy panties, he groaned at the sight.

"fuck, look at you, darling." he groans, and you feel your cheeks heat up from his words. "i've wanted you for so long."

his hands travel up your body, reaching for your bra clasp before undoing it, your perky breasts out for him to see. wasting absolutely no time, he slides your lacy panties down, too. you could see the tent in his boxers, and you smirked to yourself.

"please fuck me, jon. i wanna feel myself getting stretched out by your cock." you say to him, looking up at his face as he crawls onto you.

jonathan was almost at a loss for words - for someone so sweet and so innocent, your words were so filthy.

"yeah, is that what you want, darling?" he asked, pulling his boxers down to reveal is hard cock, dripping with pre cum. "d'you want me to fuck you stupid, hm? until you can't walk?"

his words made you moan, you were unbelievably turned on right now. you felt the tip of his cock line up with your drooling entrance, and you snake your hand down to your clit, teasingly playing with it while he watched. you moan, and he takes a hold of your hand. "you're fucking naughty, aren't you?" he asked, pinning both your wrists above your head as he forcefully thrusted his cock into your tight, warm cunt.

"jesus, you're fucking soaked." he groans, setting a fast and brutal pace as he fucked you. you arch your back at the feeling of his cock hitting your cervix already - so deep you couldn't decipher whether it actually hurt or not.

"f-fuck, so good, ugh-" you moan, the sound of your voice mixed with his cock sliding in and out of your dripping cunt filling up the room.

"y-yeah?" he asks, moaning your name, "darling, fuck. this cunt is all mine, understood?"

you nod frantically, feeling his thick, fat cock sliding in and out of your spongy walls, stretching your tight little cunt out. "mm, uh-huh. o-oh, jon..!"

he continued to fuck you mercilessly, pounding your pretty pussy with such force, you knew he wasn't kidding when he said you wouldn't be walking tomorrow. you were a mess under him, screaming his name at this point, and he loved it. oh, how he loved seeing you fall apart underneath him.

"j-jon, baby," you moan, "i-i'm gonna cum."

"drench my cock, darling," he says, still fucking your soaking cunt with his thick cock, "show me, fuck- show me who you fucking belong to."

his words sent you over the edge, your mind going blank as you screamed his name out over and over, your legs shaking as he fucked you into oblivion, your release crashing over you like a wave. your soft walls enveloping his fat cock even more, tightening up around him.

"god, you're unbelievably tight-" he moans, "m'gonna fill this pretty pussy up, darling."

you started to babble incoherently, lost in the moment. "mm, f-uck- i love you." you gasped, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

your saccharine, desperate voice sent jonathan into overdrive, and he was certainly starting to lose his composure. "i love you more." he groaned while painting your walls white with his cum.

he stayed on top of you for a moment, the both of you catching your breath and processing what just happened. eventually, he rolled off of you, and immediately pulled you into his embrace. you snuggled into his arms, your head laying on his chest; listening to his heartbeat as bliss consumed you.

jonathan subconsciously knew he couldn't go through with his plan as soon as he fabricated it, as you'd captured his heart instantaneously. you were so sweet, so oblivious to the fact that he was so imperfect, so dangerous. maybe you knew, he thought, or maybe you just chose to see the good in him, he wasn't entirely sure. he wasn't a saint, and he definitely wasn't a good man by any means, but for you; he would try to be better. he promised that to himself.

you'd dozed off while he was lost in his thoughts, and he looked over at you, snuggled up in his arms as you slept peacefully, and he held you a little closer - a little tighter. he never wanted to let you go.

your name had been tattooed onto his heart from the moment he had met you - permanent and forever there.

my taglist has been giving me issues so i apologize if it doesn't notify you when i've tagged you, as for some reason tumblr won't allow me to tag more than 5 blogs unless theres a space between them lol

my taglist (join here!):

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[lunarw0rks]

By anychance can you write something along the lines of..

Simon x (fem) reader

Simon who goes out to the bar and leaves with the reader but he thinks she's a prostitute (b/c of the way the she was flirting with him)💀 and leave money on the table and she's sumwhats offended when she wakes up but takes the money anyways.. they hook up again.. he leaves money and y/n gets fed up and tells him she's not.. a relationship sumwhat building off of that

"Say cheese!" 🤵🏾‍♀️📸 👩

What You Paid For // Simon!FemReader

Summary: Simon had no shame indulging in escorts, especially ones who make an effort to flirt with him. Only problem? You're not an escort.

Warning(s): explicit content (18+), strong language, smut, oral sex (g.), p^rn w/ little plot, unsafe sex, fem!reader, no use of y/n

Word Count: 5.8k

A/N: this took forever omg ;') not proofread, so don't mind mistakes

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST // have a request? // ao3 ver.

The bar itself is an establishment of contradictions.

The counter is rich mahogany that exudes an air of sophistication, yet its edges are rough and worn, and the crowd is anything but graceful. A collection of vintage chandeliers dangle from the ceiling, but their lighting casts a warm and attractive glow upon the room.

Behind the bar, a vast array of liquors is proudly displayed on ornate shelves, each bottle catching the glint of candlelight. You tap your fingers against the bar, pulling out your wallet. “Champagne?”

The bartender shakes his head, “we’re fresh out, Ma’am, apologies.”

Of course, they’d be out of it, given the sheer amount of people in here. You sigh, blurting out the first common drink you can think of, “I’ll do a Gin and Tonic, then.” You slide a bill across the bar, but there’s another hand—and he’s sliding a greater wad of cash, and quicker.

“Kentucky. Leave the bottle.” The gravel in his voice tells a thousand stories, as does the large shadow he’s casting on you.

You put your cashback in your pocketbook, examining the hand resting on the bar next to you. His forearm is heavily tattooed; skulls, flames, dog tags, the works. “Thanks for paying.” You fist the drink when it’s slid across the bar, finally laying your eyes on him.

His comes shortly after; a burly build, black bomber jacket, and a skull-printed balaclava. Definitely, an appearance you’ll remember with any amount of alcohol in your system.

“Mhm.” His thumb caresses the rim of his glass and his eyes travel you from top to bottom. The man clearly isn’t fond of words, or eye contact for more than ten seconds. It’s obvious he wants something to look at while he works on the bottle, that much is obvious. A man as anti-social as him wouldn’t be standing there if he didn’t want to be.

Your painted lips wrap around the skinny cocktail straw, your tastebuds hit with a mix of bubbles and burn. “You from around here?”

“Here and there.” He’s from Manchester, or somewhere near there, that’s all his vagueness tells you. Can you really be upset at him for eye-fucking you? He hasn’t gotten too close for comfort or gone anywhere near your drink, and those hands, they’re trouble. Though, with a frame like his, you would need to brace yourself before—

Now you’re just getting ahead of yourself. Focus.

You sip some more, a bigger one this time; the drink you ordered is now about half empty. “You don’t belong here, do you?” Perhaps it was the sting in your throat allowing the words to come out more freely.

With a grunt rather than a response, he chugs his shot. “What makes you say that, love?” You can see his cocked brow from under the fabric, and it makes your mind wander again. Going off his lashes, he’s probably got a head of blonde hair. The rest of the ogling? It’s interrupted by his impatient need for an answer.

“You just seem like a… rugged type.” Hot. He was hot.

Needing a distraction, you find the lime slice used as a garnish. If you were being honest, it was a cool-off. You needed to play it cool, try not to scare off the least skittish guy here; something only you could manage. The glug of him pouring another glass replaces his lack of engagement. He lifts the fabric of his mask again, tossing back another. Despite the lack of pacing himself, he’s remained untouched by the shots.

The man smacks his lips slightly, leaning just a bit closer. “Rugged, huh?” You could swear there was a smirk under that mask, and it was driving you insane. Instinctually, you need to find something to occupy your flushed silence with; the lime slice.

You raise it to your lips with a nod at his words, giving the fruit a bite. Your face scrunches from the acidity, though you’ve tried to play it off. Instead of deterring the tension between you two, it only drew attention towards your lips, how they’ve embraced the lime. Some of the citrus pools on your lip, a stray tear dripping down your chin, but you haven’t noticed.

If your goal was to be a tease, consider yourself victorious.

He could practically feel the heat gathering in his core. Though the teasing was unnecessary, it added to your services. They were services, right? The woman he paid for just happened to be an escort—a ravishing one at that.

There wasn’t any shame in indulging, he was never in town for more than a month at a time.

Your fingers find your chin, wiping the juice away with a swipe, not a clue in your mind how arousing that was. “What’s your name?” You have to yell a bit over the bass and lean in closer to his ear. The smell of him is more intoxicating than the array of bottles behind the bar combined.

“C’mon.” He jerks his head in the direction of the door, and he’s already disappeared into the crowd before you can reply. You uncross your legs and get to your feet, slamming the last of your drink before following his path to the door.

You’ve reached the entrance of the bar, still consumed by the volume of the music. Surely, his build would be easy to spot in a crowd. You’re on your toes, neck craned up to see through the crowd, but the other patron’s movements have you dazed and trapped.

Through the paned windows, you spot a shadow cast on the pavement, a still one. Either it’s the nameless man or your flirting sent him running for the hills.

You do your best to shove through the crowd, finally able to breathe when the icy air stings your cheeks. Your panting and searching were cut short by your back hitting a cement wall, an unusually gentle hand placed on your waist to keep you steady.

That scent is suffocating again; mint, tobacco, and whiskey. The nerves of being jerked into an alley settle when your senses answer all the questions.

His thumb rubs a circle against the fabric of your dress, giving some pressure when his voice is heard again. “Simon.” The question you asked in there, is now answered. “Now, answer my question. Either I’m being a knob, or you want something from me, hm?”

His eyes glow in the shadows of the alley and they don’t budge. Of course, you want this, you were only speechless.

You feel yourself nod, though the only sensations you can focus on are his scent and the tingles of attraction his fingertips are causing you.

“Right,” Simon scoffs, slightly pressing his chest closer to yours, “are you gonna take me where you’re stayin’, or are we doing this here?” His head looks left and right, a silent notice of the city oozing with chaotic nightlife.

Your breath is visible in front of you the longer you walk down the street. The hotel you’re staying in is within a minute's distance, and your neediness is thanking you for it. His shadow is close behind, but his head is looking straight ahead, both hands in his pockets.

Finally, the both of you reach the breezeway of the hotel. Simon’s breathing gets heavier, and so close you can feel the breeze against your ear. Large hands slither around your waist, fondling as the electronic beep of your suite door sounds.

The breeze of the heating system clashes with the goosebumps formed on your skin—and they aren’t because of the cold air. His legs nudge yours ahead, daring you to stumble if he didn’t have an arm wrapped around you. He’s so close; the way you had been fantasizing about in the bar from the moment his hand slid across the mahogany.

The bag you were holding finds the floor as quickly as the room door shuts.

Though his hands never leave your waist, he steps in front of you, stopping when the back of his legs hit the end of the bed. His weight settled against the mattress with a groan, then his hands found his belt, impatiently tugging at it.

“Don’t just stand there. Kneel.” His voice is a hungry muffle through the mask, but his amber eyes are all the convincing you needed. With both palms on his toned thighs, your shivering legs buckled until you were level with his bulge.

His fingers peeled back the waistband of his boxers after he shifted his jeans down. Simon wasn’t making an effort of getting entirely undressed, he rarely did. His erection sprung from his boxers, the tip of it dripping in arousal already. Seeing it was much more daunting than visualizing it; intimidating, even. But were you going to get up off the floor? Not a chance.

His fist clamped around his length, giving it a few strokes as he watched your lips intently as if picturing the inevitable lude act ahead of him. The image of the lime juice dribbling down your chin was egging his urges to a high.

You scooted up closer, his inner thighs pressing against your shoulders. Next, your fingers found the base of his length, replacing the strokes of his hands for him. Simon only stared hungrily, lifting the hem of his shirt so it was out of your way. Your lips parted slightly, mouth salivating, as aching and doused as your core. You flattened your tongue along the head, just enough for him to shift his hips ever so slightly. “Don’t be a tease.” His hands grasp around the edge of the mattress, leaning back to get a full view of your tongue teasing his cock.

He says it with such conviction—as if he isn’t the most well-endowed man you’ve gone down on. If you weren’t so blinded by lust, you just might have rolled your eyes at the comment, even come up with some alluring remark about his size. But you’ve occupied your mouth, sliding from his tip to base slowly and mimicking drinking from a straw.

“Fuck…” His curse comes out like a hiss, caged by his gritted teeth. Though it’s only been seconds of your mouth on him, he can’t resist his hands finding the back of your head, nudging forward each pass your warm mouth makes.

Now, the tip of your nose collides with his pelvic bone, a methodical gag with each thrust. Your cheeks hollowed around his thick length, despite the stretch it was to fit him in your mouth. You tease the underside of his cock with your tongue, tracing each vein and small curve with vigor—undoubtedly only multiplying his sensitivity. “You look even prettier like this, swallowing my cock.” Tears have pricked at the corner of your eyes, showing through your hooded stare up at him.

His head pushes increase in speed, and you can feel his tip bruising the back of your throat, causing heavier breaths through your nose. The last thing you’re going to do is tap out for air, not with the attractive sight in front of you. Your scalp burns from the press of his fingertips, but it’s an arousing pain. He’s remained in charge this whole time, but even he can’t conceal his need for release.

Simon’s grunts and groans have grown louder, his head is thrown back, and he’s bucking his hips upward into your mouth to meet his pushes. By now, the muscles in your jaw have given way, enough for you to withstand all the force of his jerks.

“Almost done, sweetheart.” He’s no longer teetering on the cliff of release—he’s there. The hand on the back of your head gives your hair a yank, keeping you in place as he uses his thrusts to finish himself off.

Your eyes flutter shut, hearing the feral moans paired with his hot seed spurting down your throat. “Swallow for me, that’s it.” He watches the muscles of your sore throat muscles constrict and unwind, with no sign of the semen oozing from your lips. Only your own saliva is, a string of it visible when you pull yourself away from his length.

Simon fingers his pocket, finding and pulling out a condom. “Think you can manage this for me?” He presses the jagged corner of the pouch to your wet lips. You sink your teeth into the foil edge, pulling your head back until it rips open. He slides the latex down on his length, stomach still rising and falling from the intensity of his finish.

Before leaning back on the bed, he clamps a hand around your upper arm, pulling you up with him. He shifts himself back to not hang off the edge, re-positioning the both of you with little effort. Then, he lifts up your dress enough to be faced with your soaked undergarments, followed by a slight ‘tsk’ under his breath. You’re eager by this point, now that your tender throat is a constant reminder of what he had been blessed with, and how profoundly you’re yearning for this man.

With some shifting of your legs, you roll the panties off and toss them aside. Once you’ve returned to your original position, hovering over his length as it rests against his stomach, he cocks his head. “You can’t be tired yet, haven’t even touched you.” It’s a mocking, downright patronizing scoff, but it’s bleeding with allure.

You peer down at his twitching length, wrapping your fingertips around the shaft until you’ve guided him in front of your entrance. Simon’s merely enjoying the show, the gears whirling in your head as you work out the mathematics of the act. His tip is being eased by your hands until he feels a small bit of warmth swallowing it, the familiar squelch of your slick core being eased onto his swollen cock. Your eyes flutter shut as you sink lower, feeling both the burn of the stretch and the alleviation of all the aching you felt for him.

His large hands find each of your hips, feeling your shaky hips eventually collapse fully onto his length, gandering a drawn-out groan from his lips. The only part of his face you can see, his eyes; they’ve rolled slightly—now a hooded stare of hunger.

You start to roll your hips, his length is as deep as possible in this position. Each hand resting on your waist rolls up your dress more until everything below your belly button is in his sight. “Knew you would take it all, pretty minx like you.” He mutters, his accent stronger when wasted with ardor.

For now, you’re easing yourself in circles on his length, relishing in the feeling of his tip kissing your cervix. Gently enough to yield no discomfort, but with enough force to kick off the waves of pleasure coursing through you. The burn in your thighs is the only discouraging part about this, only seconds in and your lower half feels weaker.

“Need some help?” He says smugly, an unhurried thrust upwards into you to eliminate your body’s burden of control. The sensation makes you quake, a hushed moan escaping you. It seemed when you were so focused on doing all the work, you hadn’t made a sound. But now, your delight was on full display, deserving to be a stuttering mess by the end of tonight.

His fingers tightened around the fabric of your dress, rutting his hips upwards with more intensity. Your hands switch between grasping the white sheets to palms on his chest, unable to keep upright without the support of a surface. He gives little time for adjustment, only increasing the bucking of his hips with each second. Eventually, your gasps have turned into overwhelmed whines, a fucked-out expression forming on your face.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the hotel room, overpowered by the sounds of pleasure largely coming from your lips. Simon’s sounds have remained primal grunts and groans, profanities coming through gritted teeth when he bottoms out entirely.

You feel the familiar bubble of release in your abdomen, the clenching of your gummy walls each time he slides in and out of you. His name slips out a few times, gaining an amused, egotistical chuckle. You felt better around him than he could’ve imagined like he was the moment he saw the flesh of your thighs when you crossed your legs at the barstool; the dress fabric constricted them, begging to be wrapped around his waist and bouncing on his cock. And now, he has been granted his short-lived fantasy.

“Keep doin’ that, sweetheart.” Simon tossed his head back again, the sensitivity increasing when you pulsed around him. The warmth around his length, the constriction of your core, the moans of approval—he was doomed to climax again. You’ve gathered enough endurance to move your hips with him. They clash with each meeting thrust, a jolt of electricity every time he pumps so deep. Even if this is cut short by his finish, the feeling of him inside you now is enough.

Your back arches, seemingly stuck with tense muscles as your core endures his drilling. A small portion of your climax has hit you when he changes the angle, making you cry out even louder. He’s gotten shaky and sloppy, and his physical strength is the only thing allowing this amount of speed.

“Gonna—” He begins, rutting with even more aggression, so much you’ve been left at a standstill. His words are cut short by the shake of his thighs, then a slow decrease in his intensity. “Bloody fuck...” Simon’s eyes shut briefly as he finishes, the grip on your waist unyielding until it passes. Your chest heaves above him, his length still embedded deep while you both recover.

The once-arched posture turns into a tired slump, eyes half-lidded as a satisfied sneer spreads on your face. It wasn’t a dissatisfying hook-up, it was one for the books. You can feel his muscles relax beneath you, a twitching cock sliding out of you until it lays flaccid against his inner thigh. His fingers find the hem of your dress and push the fabric back down, and even he’s surprised it didn’t fray from his iron grip.

You swing your legs off him, crawling to the side of the bed occupied with your things. Simon didn’t use many words, and you were too exhausted for them anyways; your legs had turned to putty minutes ago.

You hear the snap of his waistband, then the shuffling of denim being pulled up his firm thighs. With your back turned to him, you don’t see him dig into his wallet and place some bills on the neighboring nightstand, folded in half neatly. Once the suite door shuts behind him, your drowsy eyes have fluttered to a tight close.

————— ୨୧ —————

Things were… complicated when you woke up and saw the money left on the nightstand, next to a scribbled phone number. Were you offended? Yes. Were you flattered? Also yes

Simon wasn’t the type of hookup you just brushed off, enjoy for the night, then forget it ever happened. Vivid flashbacks plagued you the entire morning, as did how you were still wearing last night's clothes, and your makeup had been ruined.

Whoever—whatever he was; he knew how to carry himself.

If you never saw him again, the night would be nothing but an erotic memory. But, it was worth a shot to reach out.

Your finger hovered over the call button for about a minute, hesitancy gnawing at you. He wouldn’t give this to you if he didn’t want you to reach out. Why him, the most mysterious bloke in the bar? Was it too early in the afternoon to contact him? Did you look too available?

Imagining the sensations all over again, that’s what swayed you. Worst case, he refuses the company or doesn’t pick up. 

Each ring had you shaking your head, losing both your dignity and confidence in the bold move.

… “Hello?”

The gravel in his voice told you he had very recently been sleeping off last night’s activities. You practically pinched yourself, cringing at the sound of your own voice when you replied.

“It’s me. I wasn’t sure if I should call right away but… I can’t stop thinking about last night.” You rolled your eyes at yourself, ashamed of the reflection you saw through the hotel mirror. This was ridiculous, right? Downright needy?

A nerve-racking chuckle can be heard as if he was feeding on your humiliation. His voice had a little hint of unsteady as if he wasn’t expecting a call.

“Gave you some sweet dreams, then, huh?” His dry attempt at flirting made your face sizzle with warmth.

His faux self-assurance rang for miles, though it was abundantly clear he couldn’t care less about how he presented himself. What you see, that’s what you get from him.

You liked what you saw. Very much.

“I was thinking,” you began, squeezing the puffy duvet with all your might, “we could get together. Tonight?” You bit down on your lip with so much force, you pricked it with your teeth.

There were a few seconds of silence on the other line, then the faint shuffle within sheets. You impatiently licked away the drop of metallic crimson, expecting the beep of a terminated call.

“Like the sound of that.” His smugness almost had you doing a lap around the hotel room.

You hadn’t the slightest clue what you were in for, but there was not a chance in hell you were bailing on tonight.

————— ୨୧ —————

Why did you feel the need to clean an already spotless hotel room? You didn’t have a clue either. The thought of sending a maid in there had you brainstorming senseless scenarios; the underpaid housekeeper knowing precisely what you were up to.

But you had no reason to feel ridiculous. He agreed, you two were consenting adults, what’s the harm?

Everything looked untouched, almost passable for a vacant room except for your bags. You dug through said luggage and found a more relaxed evening outfit.

He seemed like the punctual type. Looking at the digits on the digital clock, you counted down the minutes. The clock hit six o'clock—then a few additional minutes had you convinced he skipped town.

You almost tumbled off the futon when three faint taps sounded on the door.

6:03 PM

You spread the blinds with two fingers, seeing the familiar broad shoulder resting against the wall, the faint fog of his breath in the bitter evening air. Taking a look in the mirror, you examined your appearance once more—then made your way to the door. With a heavy sigh, the door creaked open, revealing him.

“Hey,” you greeted, stepping aside to let him step in. Any other greeting seemed too formal, yet the one you uttered seemed too relaxed.

You pressed a palm on the flesh of your hips, both hands at your sides after shutting the door. Seeing him so soon, it seemed ludicrous, but his aura was addictive. His boots shuffled against the carpet, footing inside with hands stuffed into his jacket pockets.

“Didn’t have to dress nice for me.” Simon sat on the futon, legs spread wide as he leaned against the backrest.

You settled on the bed adjacent to him, shaking your head to shake away the flushed feeling his rasp gave you. “I wanted to,” you replied, looking up from your lap, “do you want to watch something?” You wanted to smack a palm on your forehead. Watch something? Simon knows why you called him here, and you haven’t been exactly subtle.

“You can put something on. Can’t promise I’ll be watching the movie, though.” He said with the slightest glint of eroticism in his eyes. To cope with the urge to tear his clothes off right then and there, you slid the channel list off the end table, entering the most promising one. It was a dated slasher film, interesting enough to keep your attention. You fiddled with the pamphlet for a few seconds, before setting it back on the nightstand.

His stare hadn’t broken, earning a chuckle from you, “what is it?” You question, running a hand over the tucked bedding. Simon wanted you, right then. Why else had you called him? You wanted more business, it was so obvious to him.

“Never met anyone like you.” What he wanted to say was that he’s never met an escort like you. You were selling the whole quality time and date night act well. And he had fallen for it, spending the whole night yearning for another night with you, to be a few hundred dollars less by the end of the night.

You let out a small scoff, keeping your eyes glued to the TV. “I’m gonna take that as a compliment, Simon.” You were, purely because you pictured that cash he gave you. Had it truly been that good of an experience for him? Someone with more than enough practice in the bedroom?

“Take it however you want,” you heard him shuffle, and then his shadow cast on your frame.

You turned your head when you felt a finger tracing your chin, then running along your bottom lip. “As long as I can hear your voice.” His touch made you shiver slightly, sending a rush of head down your hammering chest. So much for warming up with a movie.

The urge to kiss him had never been stronger, but you didn’t dare reach for the fabric concealing his lips. You couldn’t blow this now, not after a day of picturing the second round with him. “You’re giving me those eyes again. You want something?” Your head nodded, though you were speechless from desire. Simon chuckled lowly, admiring your meek effort to answer him.

His hand tightened around your jaw, taking on the role of the commanding figure in the room. “What kind of prick would I be to keep you waiting, then?” His true nature was to give, it was only fair considering how good you were to him the previous night.

The unoccupied hand slid up your thigh until he reached the hem of your shirt, hiking up the fabric until he gave the back of your bra a tug, releasing the hooks until it slid off. His large hands fondled your breasts, running a gentle thumb over the nipple until you produced a soft gasp for him. When he grew impatient, which took little time, he pulled the shirt off your head until your top half was on full display to him.

Slowly but surely, the positions shifted until he was hovering over you on the bed, his knee between your legs. You rocked against it for friction, the pressure of his kneecap pressing on your clothed clit, now slightly swollen from arousal. “A little impatient aren’t we?” He cooed into your ear, the statement plain hypocritical. He couldn’t even sit through a minute of the film you put on before he was looking at you like a piece of meat on a platter.

He picked up the pace of his hands, indulging your impatience. Within seconds, you found yourself on your stomach, the bottoms you were wearing being pulled down with a harsh yank. He lifted each of your legs until you were rid of all your clothes entirely. Now, you were below him and at his mercy; the opposite of last night.

You raised your hips slightly upon feeling his bulge pressed against your ass, a painful tease considering how needy you were. He grasped one of your thighs, spreading them enough to trace his fingers along your core from behind. “Guess I was right.” He purrs into your ear, inserting a finger into your cunt. Simon slowly pumped his finger in and out, adding a second when enough slick pooled down to his knuckles.

His fingers were long enough to stimulate places only your hands could dream of; a foreign, but insatiable sensation to you. You arched your back and writhed feeling the preparation of his fingers, sliding down a hand of your own to circle your clit. But you needed more; he needed more, and he didn’t want you getting sloppy like last night.

Simon withdrew his fingers, snaking one arm around your midsection to keep you in place. “Keep still for me, love.” He murmured straight into your ear, the low octave giving you the chills. Behind you, he tugs at the waistband of his jeans and boxers simultaneously, exposing his stiff length. He could waste time teasing you, it would be so easy with you this desperate. But you didn’t finish last night, and he was aching to feel you come undone around his length.

With one arm still keeping your lower half in place, he guided his cock to your pulsing core, easing himself inside inch by inch. Your breathing hitched, despite this being the second time you felt him stretching you out. Simon eased deeper, until he bottomed out and could feel the bulge of himself through the hand on your stomach.

His thrusts were snappy and deep, his palm pressing on your stomach to enhance the pleasure you were feeling. A spark of pleasure ignited into a consuming wave, making you sputter and mewl at his expense. This was different than last night, not as focused on him, though he was enjoying this just as much. When he went home that night before bed, spending several minutes pumping his length, he was imagining pumping your tight, sticky walls; his fist didn’t compare, not in the slightest. This was too much. But he wouldn’t stop until you finished.

“You’re close aren’t you?” Simon rutted into you with force, moving the hand from your stomach to the base of your throat, pulling you up so your curved back was against his chest. His lips trailed along the back of your neck, peppering sloppy licks and kisses on your prickled flesh.

Your eyes widened slightly at the realization—he had lifted his mask, maybe even taken it off his head completely.

His saliva coated your neck in small spots, adding to the array of sensations, similar to a violent whiplash of pleasure. It was like the previous night, waves of pleasure with each of his slamming thrust into your needy core. Your gummy walls pulsed around him, drawing groans and rolls of his eyes, a slight nibble on your earlobe to keep his approaching climax contained.

Your words were an inconsolable quake by this point. “Fuck— Simon—” A hushed sniggle came through Simon’s agape lips, urging him to make one final move to push you over the edge. He slithered his hand from your throat until it found the nape of your neck, pushing your upper body forward so only your hips remained raised. The switch allowed him to hit an even deeper angle, his balls slapping against your rear with each deafening thrust.

Though his hands were firm when folding you, his words remained gentle and praising, as if he was enjoying them himself. “Gonna cum for me, hm?” He teased with a deep inhale, both hands now thrusting your hips backward onto his length—not easing up on his intensity.

Fire pooled in your lower abdomen, like a swirling inferno going to burst any second. Everything seemed to burn, with the exception of your core. Your muscles ache and contract, a thin layer of sweat formed on your skin, the indents of his fingertips seared doomed to be seared into your memory for days following.

All the building, tight churning; it shattered within seconds of his relentless pounding. You let out a choked sob of pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut as you writhed and twitched around his cock. The deepness of his thrusts, the speed of them, doomed you to the prolonged climax you were expecting.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” the firm hand on your nape releases once your high ceases, “so good for me.” It seemed the moment you hit your own breaking point, he lost all the stamina he had used to prevent his own. Only seconds later, his thrusts had turned sloppy and slow, easing in and out until he drained every last drop of his seed inside you.

What once was a heat from your high, it was now the warmth of his semen pooling inside of your core, seeping out the slower he went. Your hips remained raised, though your thighs burned and shook from the intensity of the activity. When Simon’s hands withdrew from your hips, you rolled onto your side as he removed his sensitive cock.

By the time you turned to face him, the balaclava had already been pulled down over his face again. If you weren’t so vividly focused on the sensations, you might’ve forgotten about how his lips felt. There was no way, not after he made you finish like that.

He tucked his length into his boxers, then pulled up his jeans again, but didn’t bother to button them up again. “How much do I owe you, love?” He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet, peeling away apart his stacks of cash.

You were so caught up in the moment previously, you forgot to mention the elephant in the room. You weren’t an escort, just a woman who hit the hookup lottery. “You know I’m not a hooker, right?” You sat up in the bed, finding the spare quilt and wrapping it around your naked frame.

“Should I be offended?” You questioned again, filling his stunned silence. He was trying to conceal his shock, but his freeze said it all.

He folded his wallet again, tucking it away with a silent glare. Now, you were just plain apprehensive about his answer. At first, the money was flattering, that you were that good for him. But now? What if all he thought of you was a hussy he found in a pub?

When he noticed your crumbling humor about the situation, he scrambled to place a hand on your waist, “this is my bad. You were just— you were plain amazing, sweetheart. I thought you were an over-qualified escort, not some…”

Wow. That could’ve come out better.

The faltered confidence now turned into a grimace, a playful one. His scramble to correct himself, to ensure he didn’t hurt your feelings—it was charming. You couldn’t conceal your snicker as he leaned close, eyes swallowed with guilt.

“I’m not upset, Simon. Not anymore, at least.” You retorted, holding the hand that was on your waist.

Simon let out a sigh of relief, eyes studying you for any sign of doubt. His fingers caressed the fabric of the quilt, brows knitted together with half-seriousness.

You chuckled at his brooding exterior, his whole-hearted attempt at swaying you into being irate. “Was I worth the money?”

He nodded his head sluggishly, the fabric over his mouth shifting as he gave a smirk. “I don’t think any bloke can put a worthy price on that.”

[cuckette]

SCHADENFREUDE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader

tags. p in v, kidnapper/victim relationship, stockholm syndrome, he puts u in the trunk of his car :3, sorta painal, squirting, slapping/hitting a lot.. of it, not non-con or dub-con but he keeps calling it that idk, painful sex, suicide mention cuz it’s leonnnn, sadism

note. haiii a follow up to rotten luck title has nothing to do w the fic i think :3 his character changes like every 5 mins im sorry .. readers character changed a lot too omg just blame it on stockholm! umm sorry for any mistakes please ignore them :3 rbs and feedback so appreciated :3

rotten luck

tumblr removes fics that use, for example, tw non-con and any nsfw tags in general from the tags. for this reason, as i’d like my fic to appear in the tags, please understand that this fic contains dark content under the cut. reading this comes at your own risk.

“What’re you doing?” With a foot in the door, Leon spots you hunched over the mantlepiece.

You jump like you do when he makes a noise over thirty decibels. Luckily, you’re housebroken now, just about, so there’s no piss. Or tears. He has no desire to deal with tears. Or piss or any fluid for that matter. Leon has bad days, and then he has worse days, then there are awful days– It’s only a bad day, but that doesn’t mean he wants to spend his time forcing your head into a puddle of your own piss. Fundamentally, piss is not his concern, he’s potty-trained and has been for a good thirty-four years. He’d like to think a good forty-three years, but he was a criminal bedwetter up until the ripe age of twelve. Foster system does that to you. You make the piss Leon’s concern when you do it on his floor–

“What’re you doing?” Leon asks once more when he wrenches himself away from his piss tangent. He decides to let you off for not answering the first time ‘cause he’s generous like that. Quietly, as everything you do is scarce and ghostlike, you point at the printed photos on his mantle with great interest. There’s three because Leon only really gives a shit about three people. They shouldn’t be out in the open like that. Leon doesn’t remember leaving them out, so he’d like to blame you, but maybe this is a sign of early-onset dementia.

“Who’s she?” You nod to Ashley first, pressed to his side so tightly, so lovingly, so sure that he loves her bombardment. Her affection, whatever it is that she insists it is. He thinks back to tearing her from the clutches of emaciated beings and wonders how he can stand here so normally. As if nothing ever happened. Ashley’s name is the one in the back of his throat, shattered and bloody like glass in a domestic dispute. Then again, he is face to face with his kidnapping victim and all. So it’s not very normal when he looks at the bigger picture. Far from normal, abnormal at the very least. Fucking deranged might be the right term.

“My ex,” Leon lies to see the look of disdain that crosses your face, the unpleasant curl of your lips that irons out when he pets your head. Whether it be for him or Ashley, he wouldn’t like to know. “Joking, baby, I saved her,” Leon settles on saved because there is no other way to explain it, and because he would love for you to know that they’re not his other kidnapping victims and that you’re his one and only kidnappee and he might be impulsive, but he’s not stupid enough to take pictures of and with kidnapped girls. Well, Ashley was a kidnapped girl, not his kidnapped girl, however.

Leon is very feminist, rescuing slender-ankled maidens is his speciality, you’re just an outlier. “I saved her,” he says when you nod at Manuela next, and then for Sherry, he pauses, “I saved her.” Sherry’s face goads him into cowardice, blowing his brains out is difficult when she’s sitting on his shoulder at all times like a Vatican cherub, covalently bonded to his heart or his soul. Whichever matters after you die. “You want a picture too, baby? Autograph?” He kisses your kidnapped little fingers with the guilt of a man who has been pointlessly guilty all his life - now literally guilty by CJS standards for the four months you’ve been captive.

You smile at him, and consequently his drops. “I’m good,” you say, smiling your real smile. It upsets him. “I’ve got the real thing.” When you talk too much he remembers that you’re not a toy or a plaything or anything of the sort. That you’re a real girl.

Sometimes Leon has these moments of startling clarity. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause mommy didn’t love you enough, but daddy hit you hard enough to knock the functioning parts of your brain out of place. You kidnapped a girl ‘cause you got touched back in boot camp, ‘cause you’ve seen a couple hundred people die.

At this point, he simply can’t move on, but he can give up. Every night the gun under his pillow digs into the hollows of his skull. It’s just that Leon can’t leave you, his lucky little girl, he feels responsible for the state you’re in. Stockholm and all. That wasn’t his intention, he’d rather you be dead out of sheer terror, your frail little heart would give out mid Leon’s fucked up chimaera that is part nasty, hot sex and part brutal beating and the most he would have to do is bury your bones in his backyard.

Pretend you never existed. Your name fades into obscurity like every other name does. Your face is just another face. And no one truly cares in the end. America’s love is limited, its affections will go elsewhere, to a prettier kidnapped girl in California or a younger one in Maine. The police will pass you off as a runaway soon enough, and no one would ever have to mourn a bodiless casket. What a mess. Leon didn’t mean to be so charming, didn’t mean to make you fall for him, he didn’t know girls these days were so into getting raped on the daily. Now he’s facing the repercussions of his sex appeal. God forbid he exists in sexy peace.

You gotta make everything his problem, don’t you? Lucky little thing. Leon wonders if you’ve ever had to do anything for yourself. Wonders, ponders, thinks, but he won’t pry. ‘Cause it makes him feel, like, really fucking sucky. That he plucked you out of your perfect little life ‘cause his life is the shittiest little life in this piece of shit world.

He struggles to even utter your name– Your name, god, he bets it was picked out so delicately, so carefully– And that pisses Leon off ‘cause his dad named Leon after his favourite hooker, remove the A from Leona and there you have it! Italian enough for his ma too, hit a perfect sweet spot. Now he’s upset, the perennial guilt has wilted and he’s just fucking exasperated by you. By your luck. By your shamelessness. What twisted little bitch sits there and gloats about having the real thing in reference to her kidnapper. In actuality, it’s Leon that has the real thing.

Leon knocks you down like you’re made of styrofoam. That little yelp never gets old. You see, he’s been struck by this awful migraine and he wants you to feel the same. You should ache like he does, but you don’t ‘cause you’re young and healthy and he makes you go to bed at an appropriate time ‘cause it’s his duty as your kidnapper to make sure you don’t die out of neglect - death via beating is fine and understandable.

You sit at his feet so sweetly, a stray dog that’s wandered into the shrine of a lonely god, curling up at the foot of a wooden statuette to seek some form of solace. Unfortunately for you, Leon is no god, just a normal man with a heart and a soul and a dick that thinks for itself. He does what any man with a dumb dick would do - grabs you by the ankle and lugs you towards the bedroom like a deer carcass. It’s slightly comical, and he knows that ‘cause he hears you giggle a little.

“Rape is nothin’ to laugh about, sweetheart,” Leon says ‘cause that’s the plan, he drops you down on the bed with a thunk. Is it even rape when the other party, a very much kidnapped party, is enjoying it? Truly, you suck the joy out of his life.

“Sorry, Leon,” you go slack and stupid the second he gropes your tit, he’s not one for foreplay, it bores him most days. He’ll eat your pussy ‘cause he likes the taste, but he’s old and his cock is on its last legs and the moment his shit jumps to life it’s best to get it in ASAP.

“It’s okay, baby,” Leon lifts the hem of your shirt, “I know you’re really fuckin’ stupid, so don’t worry ‘bout it, yeah?” God, he’s way too nice. He pulls the shirt over your head and you’re left bare.

“Thank you, Leon,” You’re well-mannered, he’ll give you that, polite little thing, it's terribly endearing, has the walls of his gristly heart caving in.

“You’re very welcome, baby,” he hums, unzipping his jeans to get his dick out before it ultimately droops. Your cunt is sopping, takes to his fingers easily, he curls them upwards to hear those slick clicks. “Spread ‘em.” Leon taps your thigh, and you bend your knees outwards, a foot flat on the bed. It’s nice that you’re wet for him and all, does wonders for his ego, but loose holes are no fun.

“Not there,” you’re so cute when you whine, would look so cute stuffed in the trunk of his car, god. He’d even put a pillow between your thighs to give that cunt some friction. Keep you entertained while he drives aimlessly.

“Baby, you should know better,” Leon chides, spreads your ass and eyes up your tighter hole. “Didn’t ask you, did I?”

“Nuh-uh, Leon.” Comes your automated response.

“What did I tell you?”

“Don’t speak unless spoken to,” you relay the words like you’re reading from a rulebook.

Creepy. Makes him shudder. Maybe Leon did Stockholm you purposefully, he didn’t expect you to respond so well, he was just saying shit. Like, shit that comes out of his mouth when he’s horny, and your sick little brain took his word as law. So, like, that’s your fault and you’re making it his problem. ‘Cause everyone loves to make everything Leon’s problem.

“God, you’re such a clever girl, baby,” he coos because he is so kind and gracious, giving out praise left and right. The tip of Leon’s cock is sticky, drags it through the seam of your cunt to part your folds, kisses your clit with the fat head. There’s a slight gape to your puckered hole when he grabs your ass cheek to open you up. Leon’s forced his way in countless times before, it’s no different this time. With a cock lubed by precum and your drippy cunt, he pushes into your asshole mercilessly.

“That’s a cute face, sweetheart, you gonna do that for me again?” Leon asks, taking a handful of tit as he admires the pain washing over your face— The divot between your brows that he smooths over with his thumb, a quivering bottom lip, eyes screwed shut ‘cause you’re trying to take his fat cock like a good girl should. You make it so easy to hurt you.

“Leon,” you whimper when he bottoms out. His cock kicks inside you, he pulls out to be mean, carves out space and your hole flutters ‘cause it’s so empty— Leon forces his way back in, till the ring of muscle swallows up the base of his cock, and his balls smack wetly against the fat of your ass. Two fingers find their way into your sloppy pussy once more, he feels the ridges of his cock through the spongy, thin walls of your cunt, and you’re liking it too much, fucking him back far too enthusiastically when his thumb presses down on your pulsing clit.

“You’re gonna cum like this, sweetheart,” Leon tells you matter-of-factly, removes his fingers with a pop! and wipes the milky cream dribbling down his wrist on your tummy. “Can you do that for me?”

“No, Leon, I can’t,” you shake your head, trembling fingers wrapping around his wrist to guide him back to your puffy clit.

“Yes you can, baby, you’re gonna do it for me aren’t you?” He tuts, breaking free from your sorry excuse of a grip to lay a firm smack on your jaw. It sends your head to the right, hears your neck crack, he’s sure. “We don’t use words like ‘no’ do we?”

“No…”

Aw, that was a trick question— He gives you another smack to force your head to the left. A little brain damage goes a long way. Keeps you obedient. When you get over the dizziness and face him head-on, you try to blink away the tears to no avail, they roll down your cheeks in pearlescent blobs. Clicker training is unneeded when you have a firm hand. It’s worked so well, any mention of your life outside of the time spent in his home and he’s punching your lights out, now you talk to Leon about Leon, and you think of Leon, and you fuck Leon and you love him– Jesus, okay, he did Stockholm you real fucking bad. No wonder you’re so weird.

Leon rabbits into you, short and shallow thrusts ‘cause it’s harder for you to breathe that way with his cock constantly pushing and jabbing and— Fuck, he’s practically reshaping your insides at such a brutal pace.

“I knew you could do it,” Leon snickers, presses hard on your abdomen to help you cum— And you’re so cute when you do, writhing and lifting your hips up and just looking a little stupid. There’s a stuttered breath, then you’re squirting in sharp bursts, from his cock in your ass alone. “There we go— You did it, baby, did so well—“ He is so fucking sweet to you, talking you through your high and shit. “You love getting your ass fucked don’t you?”

When you don’t respond, too busy trying to recover from an orgasm that’s left you boneless, Leon knocks some sense into you. “I do,” you gasp, teeth clattering like they always do when he hits you. “I do, Leon, I do, I love it— Love you.”

Holy shit. He hates it. That’s what drives him over the edge, that’s what makes him fuck his load into your ass till it’s dripping back down his shaft, that’s what gets his legs all shaky? It sickens him.

“Do you love me, Leon? I love you so much, Leon,” you mumble to him feverishly when he dips low to rest his forehead on yours, a hand on your cheek.

“You’re growing on me, baby,” Leon says, kissing the spot on your cheek he hit less than a minute ago. “Go clean yourself up.” He checks his watch while you limp off to the en-suite. “I’m headin’ out soon.”

“What?” You poke your head past the door frame, genuinely distraught at this revelation. “But you just got home, Leon, I was so bored— Can I come with you?”

“Are you dumb, baby?” Leon blinks at you, and he knows the answer is yes already.

“I’ll just miss you, like, lots ‘n lots.” You’re padding towards him, seating yourself on his lap. He puts his hands on your hips to draw you in, you breathe in his scent. It can’t be pleasant, but you get something out of it. “I want to come with you, please. I won’t run away, Leon, I like it with you.”

“I know you won’t run away,” he hums, squeezing your hips. “What would you do without me? You’d just miss me, baby.”

“And I’m gonna miss you when you go now, Leon.” Your arms loop around his neck. This is fucking disgusting. You’re not his girlfriend, but his literal kidnapping victim and he’s all loved up, letting you stroke his hair and kiss his neck— Fuck, he hates it, hates that he likes you so damn much.

It’s not like he could get away with it. Claire’s got, like, a database in her head for all the fucking women in the world. One look at your face and she’ll know. And how the fuck are you meant to play that off? Bringing a missing girl as your date for the night.

“You can come with me,” he agrees, just not in the girlfriend way, but in the appropriate kidnapped girl way. With a gag in your mouth and your hands behind your back, tucked into his trunk like a cute, fleshy suitcase.

Zip ties are best, rope comes second, and Leon’s tie is probably not on the list of best kidnapping tools. He just wasn’t prepared to take you with him. He’s fairly new to the whole kidnapper thing, it’s quite exhausting.

The sun sets early these days, and it’s not like Leon lives in a crowded area. Only sign of life on the street is him. And you. Panties stuffed in your mouth as a makeshift gag, wrists tied together with the tie Hunnigan got him for Christmas. You could spit the panties out at any minute, but you don’t. You could break free from the shitty knot he’s tied, but you don’t. Leon must be good at this manipulation thing ‘cause you’re so damn docile, letting him lay you down like a corpse, move you around like one.

“All good?” Leon asks, tilts his head to the side as you stare up at him with glassy eyes. Not all good. You’re terrified. He can tell. You still nod though. “Good.” He kisses your head, then shuts you in.

Leon is already a bit of a nervous driver. His windows are blacked out at least. He always feels like he’s doing something wrong. Like there’s drugs planted in his glove compartment, or he’s got blood money on the backseat, or a cute girl in the trunk— Which he does, but he doesn’t usually have a cute girl tied up in the trunk. He usually does get a ticket or two though, able to charm his way out of it, flash his ID.

There isn't a single noise from you, not even a thump, and it worries him. Leon considers pulling over, but he drives on white-knuckled and shaky. Hopes you haven’t rolled out without him noticing. Been flattened by a truck. Jesus Christ, he thought something about this would be gratifying, but his nerves have spiked and unlocked a new level of anxiety. He should hand himself in right now– Obviously, he doesn’t do that, and he parks up outside Claire’s apartment instead, and he is going to check on you, he is, he was–

“Oh, hey you!” Sherry takes him by surprise, her hand is small in his, but it’s calloused. Doesn’t feel like it did when he held it the first time. Even smaller and bloodied. When she smiles at him, soft wrinkles form. “You’re on time,” she comments, and he wants to die because there is a girl in his trunk.

“Right on, kiddo!” He says to Sherry who is thirty-seven and married. Leon would like to think he does well in high-pressure situations, he does do well in high-pressure situations. That’s a fact. He’s great in end-of-the-world-type scenarios, great at saving America from impending doom, he could do it with his eyes closed– Facing the closest thing you have to family not as yourself, but as a creepy, old rapist is insanely difficult and he would prefer to never do it again. However, he is exactly that, plus a kidnapper, so Leon will continue to do it for the rest of his days.

“Are you okay, Leon?” The corners of her lips are downturned– She knows, oh god, she knows, and she’s never going to look at you the same, and she’ll hate you for the rest of her life– “You’re not sick, are you? I heard there was a bug going around, Jake got sick today that’s why he couldn’t come.” Fuck Jake. Leon dislikes him. Her hair is longer, long enough to fall over her shoulders. He’d tell her to cut it, in their line of work it’s a risk, but she looks how she used to look, and Leon can’t say anything to her.

“No, I’m just, I’m cold, it’s cold, right? It’s cold out here, let’s go inside– Claire’s waiting,” he says very smoothly, totally without a single fumble.

“What is up with you?” Claire scans his guilty face when she opens the door, scans it like a robot, not like an observant human. She steps aside to let Sherry in, kissing the shorter girl’s cheek, and then she blocks Leon from entering. “My pipes are bust, Leon.”

“Okay? Can’t help you with that, babe.” Leon is not a fucking plumber. Doesn’t look like one in the slightest. He’s handsome like a washed-up actor, he knows that much is true, does not fit the bill for a plumber.

“You look like you need to shit really bad.”

“God, I don’t, I’m just fuckin’ cold.” Leon shows her his shaky hands as proof. It’s not proof ‘cause these are kidnapper shakes.

Claire stares at him. Ineffable. Unflappable. She scares the shit out of him, might really end up on her busted toilet if she scrutinises him to this degree all night. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good, I’m great– I’m cold, I’m fine,” he says normally because he is a normal man with a heart and soul and dick and balls and credit. All the shit normal guys have. And a girl in the trunk, he’s got that too. The cast-iron doubt in Claire’s eyes has Leon on edge for the rest of the night. It never dissipates. Or she’s just looked that way her whole life and Leon’s overthinking it.

“Nah, Leon hates those, don’t you?” Sherry nudges his shoulder.

“Huh?” Leon says intelligently, he’s painfully aware of his blundering efforts at socialising. Painfully aware of you. In his trunk. Cold, scared, and wet ‘cause you’re fucked up. He hates a lot of things like assless chaps and seven-eleven beer and swans. He drinks seven-eleven beer anyway. Does not wear assless chaps though. And he’d prefer to keep it that way. Swans piss him off ‘cause they're beautiful and violent and beautiful things should be passive like you are. Beautiful things were put on this earth to be gawked at. Beautiful things belong tied up in his car.

“Parrots,” she smiles at him again and he’s hit by a wave of nausea.

“What about ‘em?”

“Me and Jake want to get a pet, I’ve always wanted a parrot, you promised to get me one when I was a kid,” Sherry says, it’s not even to guilt trip him, just factual, but Leon feels like the shittiest guy alive, he’s very good at feeling bad.

“I do hate them,” Leon confirms, “They talk too much.” Pets are pets. They roll over, show off their bellies, wag their tails, they shouldn't speak.

“That’s what I like about them!”

Leon gets a headache when you speak for even a minute, that’s why he couldn't deal with a parrot. Or any pet other than his lucky girl ‘cause at least she’s smart enough to know when to shut up.

“It’s not like they talk a lot.” Claire fills her wine glass for the nth time. “They speak when spoken too,” she says while blinking at Leon so directly he thinks she might’ve put cameras in his house to see if he’s being as feminist as he claims he is. “And you can teach them names, I think it’s cute.”

“We took care of a puppy last year, a friend’s one, but Jake doesn’t like dogs at all. Poor thing, she got car sick when we took her out, she was in the back on her own, and she must’ve been so scared-”

A dog in the back of a car all on her own. God, doesn’t that sound familiar? Did you get car sick? Should he have checked up on you? Fuck, you might’ve choked to death on your own car sickness by now. The clock ticks and Leon checks his watch about ten times within five minutes. He can’t leave first. He never leaves first– Oh, fuck, but what if you’re fucking dead? He prays you aren’t. He would appreciate it if you were alive.

“I don’t… I don’t feel great,” Leon says not convincingly when he stands up, then he bends to kiss Sherry on the head. “I love you, sweetheart, we’ll catch up next time, alright?” And he doesn’t give either of them a chance to respond properly. Collecting his keys from the table, his jacket, his gun.

Leon, don’t you want to finish– Leon, you’re leaving– Call me when you get back– I’ll miss you, Leon– Text me back– Should you be driving–

He would love to reassure Sherry, tell her that he’ll miss her so much he could die and that he promises to text Claire back on time, and that he’s perfectly capable when it comes to drunk driving. but he’s pretty sure he’s got a missing dead girl in his trunk. Leon wonders if they can see him clearly from Claire’s fifth-story window. They don’t care about what he’s doing, but the probability that they might be able to see what he’s doing, acting all shady, is scary. The street lights flicker, and when he opens the hatch, he’s bathed in the glow of your halo. Hail fucking Mary and Joseph and Jesus. You’re there, eyes frantic, and very alive, panties still stuffed in your mouth. Could’ve spat those out by now, but you’re a good girl.

“Fuck,” Leon sighs, he smiles like he loves you. “Hi, baby, did you have fun?” He hunches over to get a better look at you, you’re in the position he left you in, on your side, balled up, almost foetal. He slaps your tit, pinches your cheek, pokes your ass like he’s giving you a physical. You shake your head. “No?” Leon pouts at you, then he leaves you in the dark by slamming the lid. The thrill has sorta settled in, or he’s just tipsy, ‘cause he’s giddy about it, about having you back there. Highways are fairly empty at this time, and so now that he’s boosted by you not being dead and cognac, Leon parks up on the side of the road. Opens up his trunk, again, it’s the most he’s ever used it, shit is gonna fall off its hinges.

“You saved me,” you say when he takes your spit-soaked panties out of your mouth. “You found me, sir, I was so scared, I-I thought I was going to die in here.”

Leon’s confused for a second, then he gets it. You’re roleplaying as… as a kidnapping victim. Which you already are. So it’s like the Droste effect, or holarchy, or more simply a thing within a thing. You’re letting him take on the hero part, which he’s most familiar with, he’s good at being the good guy, that’s why Leon is a pretty crummy kidnapper. “I saved you,” Leon says flatly, he goes with it. “You should suck my dick to say thank you.” He didn’t mean to say that so soon, he was gonna play along for longer, but you made him really fucking hard just then. Teary-eyed, snotty, looking so cute and sweetly kidnapped.

Waiting for your response isn’t his style. Leon had his dick out before you even spoke, he was planning on just stuffing it in your mouth, but you went and made up a little story in your head to get him even harder. He shuffles forward, wipes the tip on your lips, slaps it on your cheek.

“C’mon, open up, baby.” You nose at the underside of his cock, then take him into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks and giving it to him so well, how he likes it, choking once you get to the balls. Leon places a hand on the back of your head, forces you still as he pounds your throat, hearing you gag and heave brings him comfort, ‘cause you're struggling and he loves to make you struggle, loves to make you work for it. You've had it too easy, and now you’ve started liking the sex (read: rape), so Leon’s glad he can hurt you without you getting off on it. “Okay, okay, that’s enough, baby, you can stop that now,” Leon says like he wasn’t skullfucking you into a coma, his cock slips past your lips, strings of saliva beading your chin, your neck, your tits.

The trunk is kinda small, when he puts you on your front, your head rests on the backseats, and your legs dangle over the edge. “Can you untie me, sir?” You ask in a scratchy voice, throat shredded.

Leon ignores you. He’s busy scoffing at how fucking soaked you are, misses the days he had to spit on your cunt to get it wet, when he felt all big like his cock was imposing ‘cause you were so dry he had to force his way in, and you would scream so loud it sliced his skin, and he would groan for that contrapuntal effect ‘cause hurting you is the best thing he’s ever felt. Better than opioids, better than regular sex, better than a scalp massage, better than anything that feels mildly great.

Your cunt swallows his shaft too well, and it is hot to know you’re so far gone now, but would it kill your pussy to show some form of resistance? He knocks his hips forward so hard the car jolts, thrusts all his weight into you, so his cock is doing nothing but harm, breaking your cunt in, going past your cervix, womb-fucking and all that good shit. It doesn’t get further than your cervix for obvious reasons.

‘Cause his dick is not a knife, it’s a dick and it twitches when you clench. He likes having a dick, he likes to fuck with it, likes to stick it in places it shouldn’t be, likes to disfigure and wreck and ruin with it - fly in the ointment is that it’s not immune to stupid, sloppy holes that beg for it. Leon shudders, keeps himself buried to the hilt, rolls his hips forward so the tip jabs the fleshy, firm opening of your cervix in painful grinds.

“Leon,” you wheeze, twisting like you’re getting exorcised, “Leon— Leon, it hurts—“

“I know, baby,” Leon pats your ass, giving a sharp thrust forward to make you sob. “Keep talkin’ to me like that, turns me on.”

“Hurts so bad, hurts, Leon, ‘s gonna– ‘s gonna kill me, Leon– Don’t wanna die, I don’t wanna die, please–”

“Shit,” he laughs breathlessly. That was hot. Girls begging for their lives ‘cause his dick is too good. When you turn to glance at him over your shoulder, his hips stutter. “Fuck, baby– You look fucked.” Like you’re terrified of him. That's how it should be. “Don’t go pushin’ me out,” Leon grunts, words punctuated by strokes that have you reeling in all the worst ways.

“I can’t–” Your head bumps the seats when Leon knocks you in the back of the head. Hard enough to stun you into silence.

“Can’t run from it, can you?” Leon bites down on your shoulder, momentary relief from the cruel drag of his cock inside your sticky cunt, now you can focus on his teeth. How he might tear into you. Eat you up. “Gotta take it for me, baby, ‘cause that’s what you're good for. No brains just got a stupid little cunt.” When he cums, you arch into him, and he fucks into you with all he’s got, till you’re stuffed full of his seed. Something to keep your belly warm for the ride home. Leon should get an award for being this considerate.

“Leon, can I sit in the front?” you sniffle, pathetic and floppy and orgasmless.

He sneers at you. “Do you want me to get caught, sweetheart? You wanna get taken away from me?”

“No, Leon…”

Click!

That was cathartic. Leon’s glad you’ve still got pain receptors, you’re not totally gone, clinging on for dear life, but still afloat. He carries his little body bag to the door. “Want a photo?” Leon sets you down on the ground, you cling to the back of his shirt as he struggles with his jammy lock.

“Oh, yeah!” You light up, “‘Cause you saved me!”

“Yeah, baby.” Leon ushers you inside. “I saved you.” From the boot of his own fucking car.