#i wanna go on a charity walk with him :(

[puckinghischier]

Mornings

quinn hughes x fem!reader

WARNING - SMUT! minors DNI. 18+. unprotected sex, fingering, p in v, basically smut with no plot

summary - quinn wakes up with a need to go slow n steady

notes - i have officially launched into writing for quinn and there’s no turning back now. i hope this is at least decent bc when it comes to writing smut, i feel like i’m always being too repetitive and not descriptive enough, so don’t yell at me if it’s bad 🫣. anyways, i hope you enjoy, and as always, happy reading!! 🫶🏼

request - soft morning sex with quinn

[2.3k]

Quinn has always been a morning person. He loves the feeling of being up before the sun, feeling like he has the world to himself. He loves being able to sneak out for a quick run, getting back in time to cook breakfast and make your coffee before you wake up. Sometimes he even loves just sitting beside of you as you sleep, reading or going over plays that he knows they’ll be working on in practice that day.

This morning? This morning he wants none of that. This morning he woke up to the sun peeking through the curtains of your shared room, way later than he intended, with one thing on his mind.

Forget a run, forget breakfast, forget hockey. All Quinn wanted this morning was you.

Last night the two of you attended a party hosted by the team at the rink. A fundraiser for some charity he can’t even remember at the moment.

What he can remember is the way you looked in your dress last night. From the second you walked out of your large walk-in closet yesterday, he wanted nothing more than to see the dress draped across the floor, but a few too many old fashions throughout the night caused an instant crash as soon as his head hit his pillow when the two of you got home last night.

His body very obviously didn’t forget how he felt last night, though. Which is very apparent right now.

Your body is slotted perfectly into his, his arms entrapping you and holding you as close to his body as he can. Even though you’re facing away from him, he can tell you’re not awake yet, your breaths steady and even. The observation made him think about having you just like that, slow and steady.

Readjusting his position, trying give a little relief to his aching dick, he hears your sharp inhale.

“Quinn, I haven’t even opened my eyes yet and you’re already horny and ready to go,” you grumble out, still half asleep.

Quinn lets out a low chuckle. “What can I say, baby? Can’t stop thinking about how good you looked last night.”

He brings his face down to give a light kiss to the back of your neck, bringing an arm up to move your sleep tousled hair over your shoulder.

You sigh at the feeling of his warm lips on your skin as they move away from your neck and down to your newly exposed shoulder.

Involuntarily, you scoot back to press your ass into him, causing a groan to ring out around you two.

“Don’t tease me now, baby, s’not nice,” he mumbles against your skin.

“Who says I’m teasing? Maybe I saw something I liked last night too,” you turn your body around to face him, hooking a leg over his hips, bringing your core closer to his.

His eyes lock onto yours, searching for any hint that you’re teasing him.

When he sees nothing but desire in your eyes, he closes the space between your lips, capturing yours in a searing kiss.

He grinds against you, tangling his hands in your hair. When he tries to deepen the kiss, you pull back in protest.

“I haven’t even brushed my teeth, let me go at least brush them before we do this,” you try to untangle yourself from his body, but his grip on you tightens, preventing you from moving further away.

“Not important,” he tells you, bringing you back in for another kiss.

This kiss was much slower than the first, the two of you simply savoring each other.

“Wanna take m’time with you,” Quinn mumbles against your lips, removing his hand from your hair to slip the strap of your silk tank top off of your shoulder.

Your response was a content sigh, feeling his hand slip under your tank top to fondle your breast.

“Just take it off, Q” you whisper, wanting the fabric gone.

He breaks the kiss long enough to remove your clothing, pressing his bare skin against your own.

You shift your position, laying your back flat on the bed and pulling him to hover over you.

Quinn lifts his head up, admiring your body, nothing but love in his eyes.

“You’re gorgeous, you know that? Don’t know how I ever got so lucky,” he speak softly, bringing a hand up to caress your stomach.

His words still make you blush, even after all this time. You move to bring your hands up to hide your flushed face.

“Nuh uh, no hiding that pretty face. Wanna see it always. Never wanna look at anything else,” he tells you, grabbing both of your hands in his large one, bringing them up to rest above your head. “Keep them there f’me, yeah?”

He trails the same hand down your body for a second time, this time letting it travel all the way down to the waistband of your shorts.

You gasp as he slides his hand under the waistband, his long fingers making contact with your clit.

“Especially wanna see your face when I’m doing this,” he slides his fingers down further, feeling the wetness coat his fingers. “God you’re soaking, baby. Guess I’m not the only one who woke up feeling needy.”

You inhale sharply, your mouth forming an ‘o’ when he slips a finger inside of you, pumping it in and out lazily.

“Can’t help it. You looked incredible in your suit last night. Even had a dream about it,” you gasped out, itching to thread your fingers through his hair, but keeping them above your head like he asked.

Quinn lets out a groan when he feels you clench around his fingers, bringing his thumb up to rub slow circles on your clit.

He notices your hands twitching as you squirm, deciding he wants to feel your hands on him.

“You can move your hands, pretty girl. Since you’re behaving so good,” he tells you as he adds another finger.

The second the words leave his mouth your hands are in his hair, tangling and twisting the strands around your fingers.

The strokes of his fingers are slow and steady, the pace driving you wild.

“Q, I need you. Need more,” you beg him.

“Uh-uh, told you I wanted to take my time with you. Need you to come nice and slow from my fingers before I give you anything else,” he picks up the pace just slightly.

You whine in protest, wanting to feel him.

Quinn circles your clit faster, but keeps the slow pace of his fingers. The contrast of the two paces causes the familiar knot to form deep in your stomach.

You remove one of your hands from Quinn’s hair to toy with your nipple, the added stimulation inching you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“There we go, get yourself there pretty girl,” Quinn rasps out, enjoying the sight of you underneath him.

His words aid in your impending release, always loving how vocal he is during sex.

He feels you clench around his fingers again, knowing you’re close to exploding.

“C’mon, just let go for me, baby. Show me how much you enjoy my fingers,” is all Quinn has to say before you’re seeing stars.

Your orgasm doesn’t match the slow motion of his fingers, your legs shaking as he rides you through the aftershocks.

Quinn removes his fingers from you, fully sitting up on his knees and bringing them up to his mouth and sucking them clean. The sight makes you fear another orgasm without even being touched.

As you lay there and recover for a few seconds, all you can think about is how badly you want to feel his dick inside of you.

“Please, Q, need to feel you inside of me,” you whine out, causing him to chuckle at your desperation.

“Well, who am I to deny a pretty girl what she wants?” he responds, lowering himself down to press a light kiss to your lips, moving a strand of hair out of your face.

You bring both hands up to rest on his neck, pulling him down to deepen the kiss, trying to show him just how badly you want him.

He meets your kiss with just as much enthusiasm, moving his hands to remove your shorts and underwear altogether.

You kick the pieces of clothing off of your feet, removing your hands from his neck to help him remove his own.

Once you’re both completely bare, you reach a hand down between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his hard dick, giving it a few strokes.

Quinn’s hips involuntarily buck forward, driving his cock further into your closed fist.

“Slow down, pretty girl. Told you I wanted to take my time with you. Won’t last if you keep touching me like this,” he grunts out, trying to keep some form of self-control.

He removes your hand from himself, replacing it with his own. He nudges your legs apart, bringing a finger to your entrance once again, collecting the arousal still dripping from you and spreading it around the tip of his dick, closing his eyes and shuddering at the feeling of your wetness on him.

“Remember, baby, slow and steady wins the race,” Quinn tells you as he guides himself into you inch by inch.

You cry out at the feeling, still sensitive from your first orgasm only minutes ago.

“Shit, you’re so tight. Always so tight,” Quinn hisses out, teeth clenched.

“Oh my god, Q, you feel so good. Needed this, needed you,” you whine, feeling every ridge and vein as he sets the torturous pace.

He brings his arms up to rest on either side of your head, going full missionary this morning.

Quinn pulls out completely each time before pushing back in, reminding himself with every stroke that he’s supposed to be going slow and savoring you.

“Don’t think I’ll ever get tired of this. Swear I’d stay here forever. Spend every second of every day between your legs like this. With my dick, my fingers, my mouth,” he tells you, earning a moan from you when you feel him twitch inside of you.

The slow, languid pace of his thrusts allows him to feel you in a way he’s usually too impatient for. He finds the soft, spongy spot deep inside of you, earning a moan that almost causes him to lose his composure.

“God, baby, can’t be making those noises like that. Gonna make me lose it,” he tells you, bringing a hand down to toy with your clit once again.

“Can’t help it. Feels too good. Need you to move faster,” you plead, loving the slowness but aching for relief.

He lowers his head, placing hot, open mouth kisses to your neck, keeping his current rhythm.

“Can’t. Enjoying this too much,” he mumbles against your damp skin.

Despite his words, you can feel him lose himself a bit, his thrusts getting just a little faster and sloppier.

All of a sudden he pulls out of you completely, removing his body from over yours. Up until this moment your eyes had been closed, but they snap open at the loss of contact.

Quinn sees your wide eyes and can practically see the whine of protest on your tongue, but he quickly brings himself to lay beside of you, pulling your body back into his.

“Don’t worry, sweet girl, just switching positions for a second,” he explains, lining himself up to your entrance once again, thrusting into you from behind as you lay on your side, opening yourself up to him with a leg slung over his own.

He keeps his same, slow strokes, but the new angle causes him to hit a place you’ve never known to exist until this moment.

“Swear I can feel you in my stomach, Q. Don’t stop. I’m so close,” you tell him, already feeling the coil tighten for the second time this morning.

The clench of your walls around his dick from this angle causes his balls to tighten, his own orgasm quickly approaching.

“Need you to let go before I can, baby. Wanna feel you make a mess all over me, think you can get there again?” he kisses the back of your neck.

Meeting his thrusts, you reach behind you to grab his hand and bring it over to stimulate your clit, needing some relief on the throbbing bundle of nerves.

Quinn presses his fingers down on your clit, hard, causing the bubble to burst inside of you, coming harder than you even had the first time.

“Oh my god, Q, I-“ you get cut off by your own moans, unable to prevent your body from shaking, his fingers still moving on your clit, intensifying the release even further.

The clench of your spent pussy nearly prevents him from pulling his dick out of you to thrust back in, causing such a pleasurable feeling it trigger his own orgasm, hitting him harder than he think he’s ever come before.

His body goes rigid, freezing inside of you with a groan. As you start to come down from your own orgasm, the feeling of his release inside of you brings a new wave of pleasure, knowing you’re the only person that gets to experience this from him.

He stays lodged inside of you long after you’ve both come down from your highs, wanting to stay as close to you as he can possibly be.

You let your fingers stroke the arm that’s slung over your frame, his large hand resting against your stomach.

After a few more minutes he finally slides himself out of you, turning your body to face him, assuming your earlier positions.

He stares at you, admiring the post sex glow on your face with the sun shining through the curtains behind you.

“What are you thinking about?” you ask him, wrapping a piece of his hair around your finger, playing with the small curls around his ears.

“How much I love mornings,” he gives you the cheesy line, causing you to laugh so hard you shake the entire bed, causing a large grin to break out on his face, looking forward to spending every morning for the rest of his life with you.

[percervall]

fight so dirty but your love's so sweet

pairing: Fernando Alonso x fem!reader warnings: mafia!Nando, sexual harassment, smut, knife play, p in v, unprotected sex words: 1802

In which Fernando knows you like the back of his hand

---

You’re not even sure exactly why it is your husband and you need to show your faces at this event. Probably to keep up appearances to those in politics that your husband is an upstanding citizen and not in fact their worst nightmare running the Madrid underworld. As if the farce of this charity ball absolves him of any illegal activities. You can’t help but scoff into your glass of wine. You’re married to him and only know a fraction of what your husband gets up to, half of which would have the people in this room clutching their pearls. 

Finishing your wine, you look for a waiter so you can get a refill. Unfortunately for you, instead of another glass of wine, you find the displeasure of the company of Mr. Sergio Pérez, an undersecretary to the Minister of Finance. Hiding your disdain behind a saccharine smile, you listen to his poor attempt at flirting.

“So what do you say? Wanna ditch this boring event and skip to where you and I get to know each other.. Biblically?” 

“No thank you, my husband doesn’t like sharing what’s his,” you reply, hoping he gets the implied not interested. 

“Who says he needs to know?” 

God, this guy really doesn’t know when to stop, you think, your jaw hurting from where you’re clenching it.

“Trust me, Mr Alonso would know.” 

“I don’t see that chihuahua of a guard dog anywhere,” he says with all the bravado of a man two whiskeys too deep to know what’s good for him. You fight the urge to smile when you see his eyes widen and feel the press of lips against your temple and the fabric of his suit against your bare back.

“Oh, you wish he were just a chihuahua when he’s done with you,” you respond with a wicked smile, resting a hand on top of the one Fernando has now wrapped around your waist. Without a moment’s hesitation, two men dressed in black appear and grab the undersecretary by the arm. Something tells you it’s hard enough to at the very least bruise by the way the man’s face contorts as they walk him out. Fernando spins you in his arms so you’re facing him, eyes scanning yours to make sure the only harm done was having to listen to the absolute garbage coming out of Mr. Pérez’ mouth. He pushes a strap of your dress back up your shoulder before taking your hand in his, pressing a gentle kiss to your knuckles. 

“He didn’t touch me, Nando,” you say quietly, watching your husband intently. The Spaniard’s eyes flash at the mention of him. 

“Let’s go home, princessa,” he replies and you wordlessly nod, letting him pull you outside. 

Fernando keeps a hand on your thigh through the entire drive home, the heat of his skin making your breath hitch. Judging by the way the corner of his lips twitches up in a smile, he’s well aware of the effect he has on you. Once you get home, he helps you out of the car –ever the gentleman, even though you know this will be the last courteous act for the night. Thanking the young guard at the door, you step inside and place your clutch bag on the console table before moving into the living room. Fernando is hot on your heels and something tells you he instructed the guards to make sure no one disturbs you for the rest of the night. You turn to face him, letting your eyes roam freely. Fernando always looks good, but something about him in a well-fitting suit without a tie just hits different, especially with that back tattoo hidden underneath it all; he plays the part of upper class and respectable brilliantly yet the samurai on his back serves as a reminder that he will do whatever’s necessary to protect his honour.

As your eyes move up to his face, you see the way his eyes have darkened. Biting your lip to stop yourself from smiling, you move back as Fernando moves to close the distance between you. Back hitting the wall, you press your palms against it as you arch up to look at him.  

“I thought you were going to stop killing politicians,” you chide, squeezing your thighs shut at the wicked glint in his eyes. He brushes a knuckle over your cheekbone, making your eyes flutter closed.

“I think I’m doing María a favour by getting rid of him, let alone his wife. The asshole should know better than to ignore a woman’s no,” he says as he slides a hand up the slit of your dress. You can feel his fingers brush against the lace garter and you can’t help but gasp.

“Oh princessa, so naughty hm? Chastising me for getting rid of a problem when we both know you would’ve had him on the floor begging for mercy just as much,” Fernando murmurs and slowly pulls the dainty little dagger free from its holster on the inside of your thigh. Having his fingers so close to where you need him most leaves you breathless.

“A girl’s gotta be able to defend herself,” you offer as an explanation.

“Oh, I agree darling but I also know just how much you love it when I do this,” Fernando says and runs the blade across your collarbone before sliding it under the strap of your dress. The fabric easily yields to the blade and Fernando’s smile widens when you whimper as he slides it under the other strap to cut you out of your dress. The burgundy fabric rustles as it falls to the floor where it pools around your heels, leaving you in nothing but a thong. It wasn’t even one of the sexy pairs, needing to opt for the black seamless ones to have no lines visible underneath your dress. Which is also why you’re not wearing a bra. 

“Very naughty I see,” Fernando murmurs. You gasp when you feel the cool steel of the blade against your hip where it slides under the thin material. The edge of the blade digs into your skin a little as it cuts through the fabric and you can’t help but whimper at the feeling. What’s left of it slides down your legs to join the ruined fabric already on the floor. Fernando moves the dagger again, the tip now tilting your face up. Eyes struggling to remain open, you’re taken aback by just how open Fernando’s affection for you is on his face. Here’s the thing about your marriage with him: he might be the most ruthless, the most cunning man you know, but he would never hurt you –not even when you literally hand him a weapon as delicate as your heart. 

“Love seeing you like this,” Fernando all but whispers, “so beautiful when you let me do this to you.” He presses a kiss against your lips and you all but melt into him.

“Mi vida, mi alma, mi sol, all I do is for you,” Fernando whispers in the space between your faces.

“I love you,” you say on an exhale as his fingers dance over your skin. Fernando hums in response, cradling your face in his hands as he dips down to kiss you once more. Still holding onto you, he walks the two of you backwards while making sure you don’t trip and fall over the discarded clothing. Breaking the kiss, he spins you around. His hand glides up your back to your neck before he tightens his hold on you, and pushes you forward so you’re leaning over the back of the couch. You can hear the clink of metal as he unbuckles his belt, the sound of leather getting pulled free from fabric sending a jolt to your already throbbing clit. Fingers digging into the cushions, you slide your feet further apart as you try to prepare yourself for what’s to come. Fernando chuckles darkly. “So needy, princessa. Want to be filled, hm?” 

“Y-yes, please..” you sigh, arching your back. It’s no longer a want, it’s a need. Your body aches to have him inside of you. 

“So wet for me, my devious girl. Look at you,” he coos as he so very slowly sinks himself into you. The stretch has you panting, fingers scrambling to keep yourself upright. Fernando groans as you clench around him. He presses two fingers against your clit, rubbing gently back and forth.

“Think you can cum like this?” he asks and all you can do is whine an uh-hu in response. Fernando begins to rub in circles, knowing just how you like it, and that in combination with the weight of him inside of you is enough to hurtle you towards your climax. It washes over you, legs trembling while you try to remain standing. Fernando groans and curses as you clench around him in waves, bucking his hips into you. Pushing back against him, you wordlessly tell him that you need him to move. Fernando lets go of your neck, dropping the dagger onto the tile floor, and moves both hands to your hips. His fingers dig into your skin as he fucks into you, slow at first but quickly picking up the pace as he uses your for his own pleasure. You’re incapable of forming any coherent thoughts as he hits that spot inside of you, your entire body wired to chase the high that’s threatening to consume you whole. Resting your forehead on your arm, you move your right hand down to messily circle your clit.

“Need you to cum for me, princessa,” Fernando pants, his restraint wearing precariously thin with each thrust. You whimper and whine in response, before crying out as your second orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. Fernando curses and tightens his grip on you as he fucks you through it, prolonging your orgasm. For a brief moment you wonder just how much more you can take before it does indeed pull you under. Fernando sinks into you once more, moaning as he spills deep inside of you. The two of you remain like that for a moment to allow you both time to come down from that high. Fernando slowly pulls out and you can feel his cum begin to drip down your inner thigh. Reaching a hand down, you swipe it away and bring your fingers up to your lips to lick them clean. Fernando curses behind you and before you know what’s happening, he picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Wrapping an arm around his neck, you rest your cheek against his shoulder. You know he will take care of you, always, and that thought fills you with more love than you have words to express. 

Inspired by this gif

This fic wouldn't exist without @feralnando and @ruledbyproblematique, biggest thank you to you both 🥰

Please feel free to let me know what you think! Your comments, tags, and likes mean the world to me 💜

[ghoststyles]

Casanova

HIIIII 🤍 Here is a little piece I've been working on for a while! This is inspired by the song Casanova by Rayland Baxter. Harry is a manipulative little twat in this, so bare with me 🤍

7.5K words;

TW: SLIGHT mommy kink. He doesn't call her mommy but he calls her mama and Miss/Missy. P in V sex, oral sex, phone sex. FACETIME SEX <3 Slight mentions of suicide. EXTREME drug and alcohol abuse. Arrests, jail. the works.

ENJOY AND GIVE ME A BOOP IF YOU LIKE IT :D

______________________________________________________________

Money, all I ever want is money But I never wanna work for the money So I borrow the money from a woman

Harry Styles knew who he was from a young age. A charmer. A flirt. He uses his wits and his good looks to manipulate the people around him until they have no choice but to give in, conning them and infiltrating their lives for his own gain.

His days are simple; He sleeps until 11, combs his hair into a perfect swirl of chocolate curls, brushes his perfectly white and straight teeth, spritzes his neck with his ridiculously priced Tom Ford cologne, climbs into his Porsche Cayenne to hit the gym, and grab an $18 smoothie for the ride home. From there, he lets the day unfold how it pleases, until it’s time to go to the club with his friends. Here and there, he’ll meet up with his dealer and his bookie to spice it up. 

Rinse. Reuse. Repeat. 

As a child, Harry was dirt poor. He’d never let anyone know that, however. His perfectly curated image blossomed the minute he got to college, leaving any ounce of mediocrity behind. His friends were none the wiser, assuming Harry was there blowing his trust fund like the rest of them, when really, he was a charity case.

Every day, he’d walk to the corner store for cigarettes for his dad and cans of tuna fish, stealing a small item to try and feel something. The owner, Mr. Abbott, knew Harry stole from him, but never said a word. He’d return to their one bedroom apartment, flicking the light on, only to find the electric bill hadn’t been paid. 

His parents are not addicts or criminals, by any means. If they were, he’d at least have a touching back story. Neither of them have the drive or the desire to succeed like he does. They lived their simple lives, worked paycheck to paycheck to support him and his siblings and never worked for more. 

On the day he left for college, he vowed to himself to never let anyone see him as the poor, pathetic boy he was. He’ll put his own silver spoon in his mouth, if he must. 

So, as he sits high and mighty on his throne after doing a few lines off a pretty girl’s tits in the VIP section of his favorite club, The Viper, surrounded by his fellow socialite friends, he thinks of one person.

You.

Harry isn’t unemployed, per se, but, he doesn’t exactly have a job, either. Two years ago, at the ripe age of 21, he graduated magna cum laude from university, with top marks in all of his classes. But, he knew he didn’t want to work a traditional job. He wanted to travel, he wanted to live lavishly, and he wanted to party.

That’s where you come in. The gorgeous, alluring and kind-hearted woman that feeds the beast that is his lifestyle. He wouldn’t change it for the fucking world.

Swiping aimlessly one day on the dating apps, he stopped his scroll abruptly to study your profile. You’re perfectly curated - the collection of photos reflecting your outgoing personality and beauty. 

38. Looking for some fun. Dog mom. CEO. Let me spoil you <3

Seeking a male ages 21-28.

His eyebrow quirks. A sugar mommy? Is that a thing?

He swipes right, hoping deep down you match. This could be it. This could be his way in. The funds from his financial aid are quickly dwindling, and he’d be sooner caught dead than with a part-time job. 

He dawdles around his apartment for a few hours, pacing the room to see if you matched with him. The possibility of this arrangement is scratching an itch he’s been desperate to quell. 

He readies himself to meet his friends at the club, placing cologne on his neck and wrists. For good measure, he adjusts himself in his trousers to get a little blood flowing down there. 

As he plucks his keys from the door, he hears the familiar ping from the dating site ring out from his laptop. Stopping in his tracks, he pivots to stand at his desk. He swallows thickly before entering his passcode.

Congratulations, Casanova94, you matched with BabyHoneyxo

A dazed smile makes its way to his lips, his dimple popping significantly. This is going to be good.

Can you believe I never met her? Can you believe she never met me, too? But she calls me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

Now, almost two years later, you and Harry have still never met in person. But, that’s by your request. You want a companion. A call boy. Someone who will always answer the phone when you need it. And ever since you inherited your family’s wealth and company, you want someone to spoil.

It started off slow; texts asking about one another’s day, learning about hobbies and interests. Then, the wire deposits came in. Harry wasn’t sure if he had hearts in his eyes or dollar signs. You don’t tell him how to spend the money, but you definitely drop hints.

“Get yourself a new outfit, baby. Then send me a picture,” you smiled lazily on FaceTime one night. “Maybe you can find something to match the Porsche.”

Harry chuckles boyishly, “You’re too good to me. I just went shopping last week!” 

He has you eating out of the palm of his hand. 

“I know, I know. I just want my baby boy to be happy. Can you pull yourself out for me, baby? Wanna see you,” you purr, making yourself comfortable on your king sized bed in your quiet penthouse. You’re winding down for bed, even though your lover is just getting ready for the night. 

“Mhm,” Harry responds, voice an octave higher and desperate sounding. He slides himself out, letting his cock harden slowly in his hands. “My friends will be here soon, Missy.”

“That’s okay, bubba. We’ll be quick. Mmm, look how big and gorgeous you are,” your sultry tone sends shivers up his spine. He adjusts the camera so you’re looking at his abdomen from below his thick cock. 

“My perfect boy,” you moan out as you touch your clit for the first time this evening. “Always so good for me.”

“Yes, Missy. Wanna be good for you. Can I touch myself harder now?”

“Yeah, baby, go ahead. Squeeze that big cock. Tell me when you’re close.”

At this point, you’re furiously rubbing your clit, and gently teasing a finger inside. His breaths are becoming more labored as he pumps his cock at a faster pace. You pause just before your climax, sending your heart rate to a thunderous pace you can hear the ringing in your ears. 

You look over at your phone propped up next to you to find your little love sweating and fisting himself hurriedly. The whimpers coming from the other end make the hairs on your arms stand up. After a beat, you continue the assault on your clit, starting off slow in order to reach that peak again. 

“I-I’m close, Missy. Please let me cum. I f-feel so good,” at the tail end of his begging, he moans deeply. 

“Uh-uh. Who always cums first, baby?”

“You, Mama. You cum first,” he pants, his eyes making panicked contact with yours. 

“That’s right. Good boy. I’m so close baby,” you squeak out as you stick two fingers in your cunt. You cry out, at your release, gently tweaking your nipple with your other hand.

Harry isn’t far behind, taking one last swipe over his tip, using his other hand to cup his balls. He cums all over his fist, small specks of white littering his belly. He whimpers again, barely able to open his eyes. 

“Let me see, baby,” you whisper, waiting for him to show you his load. He pans the camera silently, the haze already leaving his head. But he’d never tell you that. 

“Thank you, Missy. I feel so good.”

“Mmm, bet you do, baby. Now go clean up and have fun with your friends. I’ll talk you tomorrow. Behave!”

“Okay, I will. Goodnight.”

The minute Harry presses ‘end’, an ounce of remorse bubbles in his chest. Just an ounce. He rises from his bed to jump in the shower, ridding him of his guilt and shame. 

Sure, you’re gorgeous, and nice. But you’re not what’s getting him off. Or so he likes to tell himself. Throughout your sessions on FaceTime, Harry’s mind wanders to the girls he’s hooked up with the weekend before, and the countless drugs he’ll consume on a night out. That’s what gets his rocks off. 

You’re the means to his ends. The gateway to his wildest dreams. He’s going to hold onto you for as long as he can, even if he has to get off over the phone a few nights, or pretend to care about the philanthropy you’re supporting that week. 

Harry should be your only philanthropy, he thinks to himself. This is the easiest job he’s ever done. And it only makes it better that he can do whatever he wants, with no consequences.

As he gets out of the shower, his prick still swinging in the air, he picks up his phone to see a Venmo payment from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $2,000.00 - 😘

Without even hesitating, Harry, heart rate rising a bit, opens up a text field  - to his club promoter. He ignores the dozens of texts from family members over the last few weeks. He’ll make his yearly obligation call to his mother at some point.

Hey, Mike! Can we upgrade to V.I.P tonight? I can put $2K down now.

He’ll thank you later. Tonight, he’s the hero of his friend group. A slight nervousness prickles on his neck. Harry isn’t naive - he knows he should be smarter with his money - your money. But you haven’t given him any reason to believe the well will run dry any time soon. 

So far, despite your generosity, Harry still lives paycheck to paycheck. He blows his money on extravagant trips, nights out at the club, and plenty of booze and coke. It’s times he hopes to look back on one day and smile. He swears to you he’s saving the money and working towards investing and buying a house. 

Scout’s honor. 

I got a real bad feeling, I'ma let her down Got a hole in my pocket and I'm running around Spending all of her money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin' Back to the hole that I came from

Every night that he steps out of his apartment, he shakes the nagging feeling in his gut, the embodiment of the life he left behind. He calls his Uber Black to take him to the Viper, his little white baggy in the breast pocket of his Burberry overcoat. 

He nods to the driver when he opens his door and proceeds to pour a small line of the substance onto the screen of his phone, but not without seeing another text from you.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Enjoy the night, sweet boy! Be safe xo

Harry smiles to himself at your contact in his phone. You all but had a fit when you found out he’d never seen The Graduate. Once he saw it, his world changed.

Swiping away your message, he plugs up his nostril, inhaling sharply as he moves his face over the surface of the screen. He grunts lightly, throwing his head back and shaking it out. That should hold him over until they’re in their secluded area of the club. 

The car pulls up to the club around 11:45, the house music already bumping. The line looks brutal. He scans it to see if he spots any 10s waiting that can keep him company later. Miles, Marquise and Jade are already inside at their table.

The bouncers greet Harry, bumping his fist and patting him on the back. He can feel the eyes of the nobodies in line glaring at him enviously. When you spend the average person’s salary in one night at the club, you eagerly reap the benefits. 

As he’s escorted through the crowd by the five-foot-nothing hostess, his senses are on high alert. He can hear his heart beating over the music and can feel the bass shaking the floors. He smiles tightly at the girl as she leads him to his table and scurries back into the crowd. 

Marquise and Miles, his best friends from undergrad stand to greet him, as Jade greets him from the lap of her catch of the day, a burly, bearded dude already glowing from sweat and the 8-ball they’re about to dig into. 

Taking his first swig of the Don Julio his regular bottle service girl, Tasia, pours into his mouth, he cracks a wicked smile, convincing himself there’s no where else he’d rather be.

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

~

“So,” you start quietly on your daily FaceTime coffee date. You’re perched in your home library’s windowsill. “I was thinking of flying you in for my 40th. It’s going to be pretty chill. I’ll probably hire a chef and have a dinner at my place. Maybe 15-20 people.”

Harry is cocooned in a blanket on his bed, his iced coffee you had DoorDashed to his apartment slowly melting on his bedside table. His eyes had slowly drifted shut as he listened to you talk about everything and nothing. That’s how these things went — you talk and he listens. You’re after his companionship, after all.

At your words, his eyes shoot open, causing him to try and sit up gently so he can hear you better, not believing what you’re saying. Inhaling, he hesitates before he starts to reply. 

“Uh, um,” he bites his lip and looks at himself in the corner of the screen, trying to gauge if he looks as shocked as he sounds. “W-when are you thinking? I have a couple trips coming up and plans with my friends.”

He decides to play it cool. You have to know this is a huge development in this arrangement, right?

“Well, my birthday is the 27th, obviously.”

He scoffs, “I knew that part, Miss. When is the party?”

“Watch the ‘tude, baby. I was hoping for that Saturday, maybe. But I’d be willing to work around what you have coming up.”

He’s lying through his teeth. He doesn’t have major travel plans until the summer, when his friend group will jet off to Greece. He’s been saving up your pennies to charter a private plane.

“Don’t agree to it now, but please think about it. I love spending time with you and I’d love to finally meet you. We can tell my family that you’re part of one of my philanthropy groups. I’m your largest donor, after all,” you stick your tongue out at him.

“Okay, let me get myself together for the day, and I can see what’s going on,” Harry grits out, trying not to let you down. 

“Okay, baby. Have a good day. Let me know if you get up to anything fun,” you say with a mild hurt in your tone. The least he can do is make an effort to finally meet you.

“Will do. Bye, Miss,” He says quietly, swiftly hanging up the call and chucking the phone towards his pillows. 

“Fuck!” 

Hm, Casanova You know that I'm a casanova Throw my pennies in the well Waking up in jail 'Cause I never paid attention Do you remember all the good times? Do you remember all the bad times too? She reminds me everyday, telling me to behave And no I never listened

~

You didn’t let him off the hook that easily. Every day that passes as your birthday party looms, you mention flights, or activities you can do once he arrives. Harry laughs them off, distracting you by touching himself or telling a story from his gatherings with friends. 

It’s not until you’re barking orders at him over the phone, 1 week before your party, denying his orgasm that he finally relents. 

“Miss, please, I-I need to cum,” he whimpers as he has a ghostly touch over his angry, red cock. “P-please, I’ll do anything.”

“Anything, hm? I want my pretty baby at my birthday party. Wanna show you off and whisper filthy things in your ear and feel that pretty cock under the table. Agree to fly out to me and I’ll let you cum, baby.”

“Miss,” he croaks out, his stomach in shambles trying to stop himself from coming for the third time. “Okay, okay, Mama, I’ll go. I-I’ll come for your birthday! Please let me cum.”

You all but squeal in delight, instructing him to finally let go. Talking him through it, he keens from your praises for following the rules. A nervous heat travels up his neck, realizing what he agreed to in his post-nut clarity. 

“Good boy. Take a picture before you clean up, okay? I’ll talk to you in the morning and I’ll have my assistant send over your travel information.”

He nods, unable to make eye contact. You’re oblivious and overjoyed, thinking he’s just too fucked out to look at you. 

“G’night, Missy,” he chokes out. 

“Goodnight, sweet boy,” you hum before hanging up.

Harry snaps a photo of his messy left fist and cum-covered stomach before cleaning himself up and returning to bed. He eagerly picks up his phone to check his dating apps for his matches. He’d been talking to a new girl, Madelyn, for the past week, so excitement bubbles in his stomach. 

She’s meeting him and his regular group at the Viper tonight, so he’s excited to show off to her. Maybe she’ll even be down for a romp in the back seat of his Porsche.

His phone pings, signaling another deposit from you.

Y/N L/N paid Harry Styles - $5,000 - Can’t wait to see you 😘

He smiles, his right thumb picking at the skin of his ring finger. The guilt he feels from abusing your kindness starts to eat at him. But he didn’t get this far by being nice to people. You can’t possibly have feelings for him, right? You haven’t even met, for god’s sake. He shivers, shaking the feeling so he can focus on the night ahead. 

Pushing you far, far in the back of his mind. 

~

It’s now the night before your 40th birthday party, and you’re buzzing with excitement. Your penthouse is decorated in pink and floral frill - almost like your Great Aunt Gertrude exploded - but it’s chic and will be a hit amongst your New York City socialite friends. Your party planner floats around the room, puttering with the florals, candles and gem stones scattered around. 

You anxiously check the time, counting down the hours until Harry boards his flight from LA. He’s jumping on a red eye, so you’ll greet him with coffee and donuts when he lands. A pang of nervousness hits you as you remember how distant he was this week, saying he was busy with friends or doing god knows what an unemployed 23 year old does in Los Angeles.

Monday, 3:31 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry, missy. I’ve been at Miles’ art showing all day.

Wednesday, 11:27 AM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Sorry! At the gym with Do Not Disturb on. Hey, can you send me some cash? Last min car maintenance 😢

Friday, 5:58 PM

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: Hi missy. My friends want to go to the opening of the new Carbone out here. Think your friends can get us a table? It’ll be 9 of us. 

Hope your dad’s chemo appointment went okay.

You can’t be mad at the little monster you’ve let him become. You are always an after thought as his only priority is making sure the cash cow is alive and well. He extends effort just enough to make the butterflies in your stomach reappear when he does give you the attention you crave. 

Inhaling deeply, you ascend up the grand staircase in your Upper East Side brownstone and begin your pampering routine, sending photos to Harry of the hydrating eye patches on and curlers in your hair, blowing kisses and sticking out your tongue. 

Typically, Harry answers relatively quickly to your silly messages, but, tonight, he’s gone radio silent. Maybe he’s trying to conserve his phone battery for the flight? 

You open your medicine cabinet to examine your fast-acting anti-anxiety pills, hoping you can will away this uneasy feeling. Padding over to your bed, you pop your pills before tucking into your silk sheets. Before putting your phone on the charger, you send Harry one last message.

Mrs. Robinson 🤍: Safe flight, baby ♥️ I’ll be tracking you, but tell me which terminal when you land. Can’t wait to see you 😚

Flicking out the light, you close your eyes with the hopes of finally meeting your lover in just twelve hours.

~

I got a real bad feeling I'ma lose my cool Everywhere that I go, everything that I do Stop me using the money on drugs and things To keep my mind from runnin'

Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

Ping!

Harry, Delta airlines can’t wait to welcome you aboard Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35

Ping!

You may now board Flight 0723 to JFK, departing 18:35. Welcome aboard, Harry.

Harry’s leg is bouncing uncontrollably as he watches the busy bodies move around him. Despite his social butterfly nature, his social anxiety rears its ugly head every once in a while. Or, it could be tonight’s concoction of pills.

He places his phone on Do Not Disturb, just as he gets a text from you. Closing his eyes in defeat, he comes face to face with the awful, shameful and downright despicable choice he’s made.

He’s not going to New York.

Instead, he’s standing booth side at a club next to John Summit, his favorite DJ, as he passes around a bottle of 1942. The pills he’s on are plastering a wide smile on his face as the throng of bodies around him jump around, despite the absolute panic and guilt he feels in his veins. 

He’s wondering when you’ll realize he’s not coming. The lack of texts? The empty escalator to the pick-up area well after the flight has landed? He can picture your cherub cheeks reddening with embarrassment, fighting back hot tears.

To distract himself, he leans down to capture the blonde girl to his left in a kiss, despite not even making eye contact with her prior. When she peers up at him, her pupils are just as dilated as his as they sway back and forth.

He kisses her once more, just as Marquise offers him another baggie.

~

The panic sets in about 30 minutes after his flight landed. Surely that’s enough time to grab his bag and meet you here, right?

Your eyes urgently scan over every person that walks by probably sending them into fight or flight as a deranged woman looks them over in search for her boy. 

You look down at your phone, the background a photo of your dog, completely clear of any notifications. With vigor, you throw out the box of donuts and his iced black Americano. Swallowing your pride, you skulk back to the parking lot to cry in the safety of your car. 

You feel like a loser. A pathetic middle-aged woman who got fooled by a man half her age. The mental gymnastics that takes place as you drive home with white knuckles on the steering wheel should have you committed. 

Your dating life wasn’t easy. It started in high school, where you were invisible to the boys, always deemed not good enough to date. Extending through college, you were still nearly invisible, working over time to find just one guy to have any interest in you and take your virginity. Just to get it over with. 

As the dating scene expanded in your 20s, you still struck out with men your age. It wasn’t until your late 30s when your hopes and dreams of a family came crashing down on you that you’d made that godforsaken dating profile. 

You still remember how your heart skipped a beat when you saw Harry’s photo for the first time. His boyish charm was palpable, followed by his incredibly witty prompt answers. He was your solution. If you couldn’t earn someone’s love, you could at least buy it. 

The lump in your throat is preventing you from calling him and leaving the fiery voicemail you so want to do. You assume he’ll ignore any calls from you anyway.

Pulling into your private garage, you let out your frustrations by wailing and smacking the steering wheel of your Bentley. To prying eyes, the cops should be called. You allow yourself to flip for 5 minutes before putting on a brave face and going inside to begin getting ready for your birthday party, ringing in another year of heartbreak and disappointment. 

~

3 glasses of a 1982 Cabernet Sauvignon. That’s how much alcohol it took to have you crying in front of your friends and family. 

You couldn’t tell them what was really wrong, of course. They have no idea about your and Harry’s arrangement. They’d call you an idiot if they knew how much money you’ve sent him.

Everyone is shooting you sympathetic looks as you cry on your best friend’s shoulder. For all they know, you’re stressed with work and your dad’s cancer diagnosis. It’s a lot of pressure on a single woman. 

Rubbing your back, Candice whispers all the affirmations she’s been telling you since college. It’s incredibly annoying to get advice from someone whose life is perfect. 

You quietly thank her, clearing your throat of the lump that’s formed. Looking around the room, you make a break for it, grabbing your phone as you lock yourself in the guest bathroom.

Tears blurring your vision, you dial his number for the first time all day. It rings and rings, finally sending you to voicemail, as you’d suspected.

You’re silent for a beat after the beep. 

“I-I don’t even have words for how I’m feeling right now. I was so fucking excited to see you…feel you….kiss you. And instead I’m locked in a bathroom at my own birthday party, calling you like a fucking loser,” you start, snot threatening to drip down your face. 

“I give, and I give and I give, and yet you still let me look like a fucking idiot in front of my friends and family. You couldn’t do one fucking thing for me? You…You didn’t even have to put any effort. I paid for a car service, paid for a first-class seat, bought you a wardrobe…”

“I just hope whatever the fuck you’re doing right now is worth it. I don’t ask questions about what you do with my money, since I’m the one who started this. B-but I thought you were a decent person. I feel so fucking stupid right now,” you are talking to yourself at this point. You shakily inhale and stare at the ceiling. 

“We’re done. I’m done with your bullshit. I’m not gonna let some ungrateful brat take advantage of me anymore. Have a nice life, Harry. Hope you have to move back to bumblefuck and lose all the friends you’ve been lying to this whole time,” you end off the message with pure venom leaking through your words.

You press end, feeling slightly better that you’d used his deepest darkest secret as ammunition. The mirror in front of you shows a shocking picture; running mascara, watery, red eyes, and disheveled hair.

Patting some toilet paper under your eyes, you clean up the best you can before returning back to the party. If you were strong, you’d block his number. But you can’t help but wonder what his response could be.

~

He deserves it. It’s 4:40 AM and he just mustered the courage to listen to your message. His under eyes feel heavy as he listens to your words, hitting him where it hurts. His hands are shaking as he lowers the phone to his lap, drowning out the sound of your sad, heartbreaking voice. 

5 years ago, he was a decent person. Now, he looks in the mirror and sees his slightly gaunt face and tired eyes staring back at him. He even notices a few gray hairs every once in a while. 

His lifestyle takes a toll on him — He’s well aware of that. But for now, he has no reason to stop. Harry lightly smacks his head back on the seat of the Uber back to his apartment. Cracking the window, he lets the sounds of the early morning deter him from vomiting.

The car arrives at his apartment — a guest house in Hidden Hills, the only place he can afford with the zip code he desires so badly. He never brings anyone to his place, too paranoid of his secrets getting out. Vision doubling, he struggles to stick his key in the lock. He knees the door has he twists the knob, sending him tumbling flat on his face. 

Smacking his head on the tile floor, he recoils, lifting his hand to feel droplets of blood on his nose and bottom lip. The metallic taste is leaking into his mouth, sending him into a spiral. His front door is still wide open, allowing him to see the sun peaking over the hills in the distance. 

He crawls over to the threshold, slamming the door shut with his foot. He lays back down on the cool floor, exhausted from his efforts. His breathing evened out, lulling him into a comatose state before succumbing to the darkness.

But before he passes out, all he can picture is your gorgeous, disappointed face.

I'm back in the hole I got nowhere to go La la la la, la, la Spinning around In the cold dark hole deep down in the ground Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from

The thing about rock bottom is that you don’t realize you’ve hit it until you’re clawing your way back to the top.

In the days following your fallout, Harry’s experienced enough misfortunes to last a lifetime. It started off with his credit card declining on a $6 breakfast sandwich, only to come back hungry and sad to his car being repossessed in front of all the Hidden Hills housewives out and about. 

The panic rises in his chest, and it’s taking everything in him not to call you and beg for forgiveness. He’s come to realize how fucked up his actions towards you became. He misses the butterflies and longing he felt when you first started your arrangement. 

He stomps back inside, miserable and feeling like a loser. If it wasn’t for Marquise’s birthday party later, he’d be sure to go dive in the ocean in hopes of never resurfacing. 

His closet is taunting him — full of the clothes you’ve bought him. He can remember every single piece he tried on for you, and the praise you were so quick to give him. He never reciprocated when you’d show him new pieces and showing off your incredible body. But, you hadn’t called him out on it, so he continued on. 

The all black outfit he chose reflects his mental state. Filled with dread and remorse, he pulls out his kitchen drawer to peruse the substances he has left. His stash is dwindling as fast as his bank account, so he has to be strategic until he figures out his next move. 

Grabbing the baggies, he situates them in the breast pocket of his jacket to conceal everything. They’re going to a new club tonight, so there’s no being saved by the bouncers if shit goes south. 

The party goes off without a hitch. Bottles pouring, dancers hanging from the ceiling, and an influx of out of town girls willing to do anyone and anything. Harry has nearly pushed you completely out of his mind, but he does something completely out of character.

~

Mr. Gladstone 🤍: I’m sorry.

You’re at a wine bar with your girlfriends in the Village, and the message you receive shakes you to your core. You haven’t heard from him in days. Not even after you repossessed the car and canceled his credit card tied to your account. You thought for sure that would smoke him out of his foxhole. But, he’s Harry. He’s selfish and too full of pride to ever come forward and apologize.

Your friends notice the faltered look on your face, but opt to ignore it as they bitch about their husbands and kids. Despite your fleeting dreams of having a family, most of the time you’re thankful you can’t relate to them. 

Turning off your phone, you throw it in your new Kelly bag — a little treat to get over the heartbreak — and return to the conversation.

~

He doesn’t even remember how it went down. 

The last clear memory he has is being escorted out of the club to go back to Marquise’s. The combination of coke and alcohol, plus this week’s tumultuous events had him on edge, so when the unfamiliar bouncer at this mediocre club grabbed him wrong, it sent Harry into a frenzy. 

To match his bloody nose and busted lip, his knuckles are now decorated with crusty amber smatterings of blood — his own, and the bouncer’s. His jaw and wrist were aching, still mouthing off like a rabid animal as the cop read him his Miranda rights. 

So now, he sits in a cold cell in the county jail awaiting his arraignment — a seemingly straight forward assault and battery charge, now amplified by the 40 grams of cocaine and Adderall in his coat pocket. The bastard cop smiled to himself when he patted him down. Harry will give him this one, the rinkydink small town cop who is used to giving out traffic violations. 

Tired, in dire need to piss, and on the verge of a mental breakdown, Harry’s head snaps up when the officer notifies him of his bail — a measly $75,000 — and lets him know he has one phone call. Balling his fists, he looks up at the ceiling.

“Fuck!”

The cop assists him in standing up. His wrists are chained together behind his back, after all. Releasing him from the confines, Harry rubs his wrists where the cheap metal chafed him.

“You have 5 minutes to make a call. Do you know the phone number or do you need me to access your cell phone?”

Harry scoffs. Who the fuck still memorizes phone numbers?

“Phone,” he replies, a clear edge in his voice. 

“Whose contact am I looking for? Mom, Dad?”

“Fuck’s sake. No, I need the number of,” Harry pauses suddenly as he remembers your name in his phone. 

“Mrs. Robinson,” he finishes quietly.

The cop raises his eyebrows, but says nothing, and reads the number aloud to him. It rings, and rings, diminishing any hope that you’ll answer. It’s in this moment Harry is at his rockbottom.

“Hello?”

~

“This is a collect call from the Department of Corrections for the City of Los Angeles. An individual is trying to contact you. Do you wish to answer?”

You gasp as the automated voice informs you of your worst nightmare.

“Hello?” you say quietly. It’s 8:15 AM, and you’re at the cafe on the corner for a latte and reading, trying not to disturb those around you. 

“M-missy?” His voice sounds broken. It sends a stabbing pain straight through your chest. 

“Harry, what happened? What did you do?”

“I-I fucked up. I fucked up so bad. N-not just with you. I know I fucked everything u-up,” he’s starting to sob, unable to catch his breath between words.

“B-but I got into a pretty bad fight last night, and I had some,” Harry pauses to look over his shoulder to make sure the officer isn’t listening. He wipes the tears in his eyes with his thumb. “I had some stuff on me, so now I’m in a lot more trouble. A-and I know I fucked everything up and I don’t deserve anything from you, but I don’t have enough money for bail.”

You sigh, not really even sure where to begin. Tears are threatening to spill over as you hear his clearly broken sobs. 

“How much do you need?”

At this point, Harry hung his head at your silence. He snaps his head back up when you agree to help him.

“It’s $75,000.”

“Jesus, Harry, what the fuck did you do?”

“I don’t even know, I barely have any memory of—”

“Five minutes, inmate!” the officer interrupts him.

Harry rolls his eyes and continues. 

“I’m not sure what happens next. B-but thank you, Y/N. I know I don’t deserve this in the slightest.”

You shiver at his use of your first name. Closing your eyes, “I know you don’t. Just tell me who I need to call.”

~

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you mutter as you hear your incessant doorbell ring. It’s 6 in the morning, just a few days after you paid Harry’s bail. You’ve been laying low, unsure if you’ll even hear from him again. 

Your doorman, Paul, informs you of a visitor. A visitor? At this time? Unable to even comprehend what’s going on, you press the button to confirm opening the door, and wait. 

Your bunny slippered feet tap your coffee table anxiously. Is it your mom? Here to inform you of someone’s death? Or is it your best friend from college who couldn’t come to your party? Or is it —

You’re broken from your racing thoughts as a timid knock on the door echoes through the house. You shuffle hesitantly over to the door, unable to even bring yourself to look through the peephole. 

Closing your eyes while pulling open the door, the absolute wind is knocked out of you as you eye up your waiting guest. 

He’s tall, tanned and gorgeous as his photos. It’s unfair to look like this after stepping off what she assumes was a red eye flight. He looks exhausted. His lip and nose are busted, and he has a yellowing bruise on his left eye.

“W-what?” you flounder in disbelief.

His hands fold together at your reaction, unsure if he should hug you or keep a respectable distance. He opens his mouth to say something, but stops himself. He’ll play by your rules.

“What the fuck is going on?” 

You look adorable. The sleep barely wiped from your eyes. Slight bed head and disheveled silk pajamas. Harry is in disbelief that this is the woman he’s come to realize his feelings for.

“I know this is so fucked up,” he trails off. “Coming here. I don’t deserve even a minute of your time, but I needed to come here and tell you how fucking sorry I am. How deep into the superficial bullshit I got. I took advantage of you and your kindness and I lost myself in the process.”

You must look flabbergasted, because he inches closer, placing his hands gently on your arms. His touch is searing, but the first reminder that he’s actually standing in front of you and not an extremely lifelike apparition. 

“I-I,” you stumble.

“We don’t even have to talk right now. You can send me away, if you need. But I’m here, I’m here in New York and I want to change. I want to be better for you. These last few days— when I had absolutely nothing — made me realize something.”

His eyes are now earnest and starting to tear up. Your reflection is so clear in his tide pool green irises. 

“I had nothing, and it made me realizing you’re my everything.”

His profession had you clutching your metaphorical pearls. Your heart is racing, sending your central nervous system into a tizzy. You know he’s not lying, because he’s looking dead in your eyes waiting for your reply.

“H-Harry, I don’t even know what to say,” you stall. Your body knows what it wants to say.

“I know and like I said, if you need time, I underst—”

“If you’re here and you’re not bullshitting me; you really want to change. Then, you’ll fuck me like it.”

If Harry’s jaw could drop to the basement, it would. Instead of word vomiting, he lunges forward, guiding both of your bodies back to the hallway and placing a panty-dropping kiss on your lips. He doesn’t even have time to admire your beautiful home.

You break the kiss, grabbing his wrist to lead him to your room. The sheets are mussed, your clothes are all over, but you can’t even begin to fucking care. You all but dive back onto your bed, pulling your nightgown up to reveal your bare, perfect pussy. 

Harry drops to his knees, wrapping his hands around your thighs. The photos and the FaceTimes don’t do any justice to the sight in front of him. You’re complete and utter perfection. 

He waits for your approval before leaning forward to lick from back to front. Your back arches slightly, throwing your ankles over his shoulder. His fingertips dig into your skin deliciously, so you grab onto your blankets for dear life. 

“Give it to me, Missy. I’ve been waiting two years for this perfect cunt. What the fuck was I waiting for?”

You laugh, not expecting his sense of humor at this moment. For the last few months, it’s been like talking to a robot. It was an exchange of goods and services. But here, in front of you, is a man. A man who’s willing to change his ways for you. The man you’ve waited all your life for. 

“Always here for you. It’s yours,” you purr, placing your hands on top of his. 

He growls, vigorously licking into you. He removes his right hand to insert his two middle fingers into your center. This has you howling, unable to even remember the last time a man did this for you. 

“Baby, baby. I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum for you, finally,” you whine, focusing on the immeasurable pleasure stemming from your legs. 

“Mhm, I can feel you, Mama. Let go for me,” he begs, making direct eye contact with you. 

It’s the moment you lock eyes that you’re letting go. All the stars are aligning and symphonies are playing in your head.

“Ah, ah! There, Harry!”

Harry keens at hearing his name roll off your tongue. He slides up your body to kiss you, allowing you to taste yourself. You grab at his under shirt, insinuating that you want it off.

He peels it off and cheekily pulls your tit out of your nightie. He winks before connecting his lips to your nipple, rolling his tongue around the bud and sucking gently. 

“Please, want you inside me. Gimme my big cock, baby.” 

“It’s yours, Mama. All of me.”

Harry slides his briefs down his legs, revealing the main event. His dick swings slightly before hitting him in the stomach. You moan, unable to wait even another minute for him.

“Please,” you cry out, scratching down his chest. 

He lines himself up, moaning in ecstasy as he pushes in. Your mouth falls open, a silent whine escaping. 

“So big, baby. I should’ve flown out to you the minute you sent me a dick pic. Like a fucking middle schooler.”

Now Harry is laughing. He’s in disbelief that he would ever treat you the way he did. The clarity from the last few days is damning.

His pumps are getting faster and longer, bottoming out every other thrust. He looks down to where you’re connected, your pussy lips wrapped around him deliciously, a slight white substance leaking out of you. He leans down to kiss you, wanting this connection he’s subconsciously wanted since he met you. 

“Want you to cum with me, Missy. Cum with me. Want to show you I mean it. I mean everything I said.”

You gently put your hand on his cheek, to which he immediately nuzzles in at the touch. 

“I know you mean it, baby. It’ll be okay. We’ll figure this out.”

He nods, leaning down to kiss you again, his thrusts slowing but still ramming you to the hilt.

“You close?”

“Yes, baby boy. Cum with me, I’m cumming now.”

Harry’s cock twitches as he bumps your walls before releasing long and deep into you. You push your noses together, lips ghosting over one another’s. 

Harry is finally home. 

“You’re gonna fucking pay for this, little brat.”

He flashes a shit eating grin, kissing you again.

“I expect nothing less.”

And I don't ever Back to the hole that I came from Back to the hole that I came from And I don't ever want to go back

[lavenderfilledcoffin]

rest

verb

cease work or movement in order to relax, refresh oneself, or recover strength.

•*¨*•.¸¸♪✧•*¨*•.¸¸

It had already been a long run.

It had been approximately forty three hours since you had come down to the expedition site.

That's when you found out you were 'immortal'.

Your first death was brutal and painful.

You'd been killed by what Sebastian calls 'pandemonium'.

"Caught you off guard?" He spoke, pulling the document away from your view.

You shook your head, letting the memory be temporarily forgotten, focusing on the present.

You were nearing Sebastian's shop. You really needed a nap...

With your unwanted experience of the dangers down here, you easily passed by the doors.

Well. Somewhat easily.

Those damn turrets, it’s unfair how they have aimbot…

One of the bullets just narrowly avoided hitting your head, horrifying…

You stared at where the bullet landed.

After what felt like four minutes, you looked back up, deciding that you had a grudge against bullets now.

You quickly ran past the turret’s line of sight, and shut the power off, moving on to the next door.

It felt like your limbs had been set ablaze from the overexertion of your muscles, but after a nap, you’re sure it would go away. Hopefully.

The familiar noise of the vent cover falling onto the floor made you giddy. Finally.

“Hey, friend. Over here.” The sound of Sebastian’s voice nearly made you cry tears of joy. You don’t think you’ve ever felt more happier.

You kneeled down, making your way through the vent, and entered his shop.

“It’s good to see you again!” Sebastian made a small waving motion with his third hand, letting it fall to his side afterwards.

“…You look like shit.” He had to stifle a laugh by biting his lip harshly. “Thanks…”

You sighed, rubbing your right eye.

You walked towards the desk nearest to him, gently dumping out the contents of your bag so as not to smash any glass vials that contained DNA. It was a generous haul, you must say, at least worth over a thousand.

“What’s all this for? Wanna buy my file?” You shook your head at his words.

“I want to rest, please.”

“Listen. This isn’t a charity, so—“

“Seb. Please?” Sebastian stared at you. Sure, he was extremely fond of you, but that doesn’t mean he has to treat you like you were royalty.

That data was very tempting, though.

“Fine. Go ahead.” He crossed his arms, pointing to the corner.

“What is this, timeout?”

“Go in the damn corner and sleep before I change my mind.”

You turned your back to him, rolling your eyes before going to where he pointed.

There was a plushie of… someone? You grabbed it from behind the locker and held it close.

You curled up beside the plush and placed your cheek onto its head, shutting your eyes.

The position you were in wasn’t exactly comfortable, but it worked.

You fell asleep shortly after.

Sebastian watched you with curious eyes.

He felt creepy for watching you sleep, but he couldn’t help it.

You looked so peaceful.

He moved from his corner to yours, grabbing a few plush blankets he stole from a worker’s locker.

Trying not to wake you, Sebastian lifted you up, placed a blanket beneath you, and another over you.

You looked so cozy, he couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

He went back to his corner, holding his hand in his other like usual.

Sebastian didn’t bother you, he didn’t know much about immortality, but he knew it was definitely exhausting having to die over and over again.

How did that work? He didn’t even know.

His eyes fell back onto your sleeping form. Something inside of him tingled as he saw a small smile on your sleeping face.

How cute.

[tikosblogg]

A Helping Hand

Part 2 Here

Summary: you’re in college, still a virgin and frustrated. You just wanna know what sex is like. Noah wants to offer his help.

Warning: oral (f receiving), fingering.

A/N: college boy Noah. HOT AF. Not proof read I apologize for any mistakes. Please enjoy.

The air in the apartment was thick with laughter and the scent of popcorn as me and my only two friends on campus lounged on the couch, binge-watching a new series. The conversation had turned to relationships—everyone was discussing their latest crushes and dating escapades.

I listened, a bit detached, nursing a twinge of envy. The thought of my virginity weighed heavily on my mind.

"I want to know what it’s like," I sighed, glancing down at my half empty drink. "I don't want to be a virgin anymore."

My friends exchanged glances, and Clara leaned in closer, a mischievous glint in her eye.

"You know, I heard about that guy on campus, Noah Sebastian. He's supposed to be amazing in bed. I’ve heard stories, you should ask him." I rolled my eyes, feeling my insides flutter at the name.

"I am not gonna ask Noah Sebastian to fuck me. I don’t want to feel like some charity case." I sighed. If He asked me, you bet your ass I’d let him. But sadly I’m also aware, that he is way out of my league. Hence why he hasn’t asked me.

I’ve been around him and his friends at parties a bunch of times. We even had a nice long conversation one time about our favorite music. Yet he always found a girl the complete opposite of me to take home.

"Come on! It’s a great way to break the ice," Layna smiled nudging me playfully. "You’d be in good hands!"

I hugged my knees to my chest. "I don’t know. He’s had plenty of chances to ask me, and he hasn’t. He isn’t interested. I’ll probably just go out and find someone at one of the bars in town.”

They both smirk at each other, before quickly changing the subject. I decide to let it go, and join their new conversation. A couple hours later, I walked them to the door, as they gathered their things to leave. Layna turned towards me, pulling me into a hug. “Please just think about asking Noah. I promise you won’t regret it.” Clara nodded, hugging me as well.

I sighed nodding my head. “Yeah yeah, I’ll think about it.” I waved them off as they drove away, making my way back into the apartment. That night I stayed up late, looking up Noah’s socials, going through his pictures like a stalker. “God why are you so hot.” I mumbled under my breath. There is noway I’m asking him.

I entered my apartment, tossing my keys onto the counter. The glow from the livingroom lamp casting a warm hue in the quiet apartment. I settled into the couch, flipping through channels aimlessly as I tried to shake off feelings of loneliness.

Each ding of my phone caught my attention, but I dismissed the notifications as my friends being typical sent: memes, inside jokes, and rants about the day.

Suddenly, a knock echoed through the silence. I glanced at the clock—it was unusually late. Hesitantly, I stood up and opened the door, and my heart nearly stopped. There stood Noah, looking hot as usual.

“Hey, I hope I'm not interrupting,” he grinned, his eyes casting down, and slowly back up my body. Confusion washed over me, as I struggled to respond. "Clara and Layna sent me." He chuckled, as my face fell in shock.

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as I remembered our conversation from a few nights ago. “Oh… wow, um, yeah I’m sorry for… this," I stammered. "I didn’t know they’d... well, um…" I trailed off, feeling anxious and down right humiliated.

He chuckled softly, his presence magnetic, making it hard to look away. “It’s alright.”

I shifted, biting my lip, an apology spilling out. "I really didn’t mean for them to set this up. I’m just—I'm…you really don’t have to be here."

“No, I’m mean it’s okay. No pressure, but I’m glad they sent me,” he assured gently, taking a step closer. “I want to be here. And honestly? I’d love to help you.”

My heart raced as I processed his words. This impossibly sexy guy, the one everyone talked about, wanted to help me. The weight of my own inexperience settled heavily on my chest, embarrassment mixing with excitement.

“Noah, I’m really shy about all this. I haven’t—”

“Y/n,” he interrupted softly, tilting his head slightly. “We can take it slow. I want to make sure you’re comfortable. I won't do anything you don’t want to.”

His genuine tone wrapped around me like a warm blanket, easing my anxiety. “What if I mess it up, and completely embarrass myself?” I whisper, my face on fire at this point. “I promise, it’s not about perfection. It’s about enjoying the moment. And trust me, the right person makes all the difference.”

The room felt charged with tension, uncertainty melted into curiosity. I took a deep breath and gestured for him to come inside. As he stepped in, I felt a rush of disbelief. This was really happening.

Noah looked around the apartment, his gaze landing on me with an intensity that sent my heart fluttering. “So, what do you want to do first? You’re in complete control right now. We can take it slow tonight. start with the small things, and then next time we can a little further.” he smiled, his voice low and inviting.

I searched his gaze, finding kindness and patience. Next time? He wants to come back? My body fidgeted as I took a step closer. “Um I really don’t even know how to start..” I whispered, my shyness slowly overtaking me.

He smiled, and the warmth in his expression reassured me. “We can take all the time we need. Do you want me to take the lead?” His voice was low and smooth, carrying an invitation wrapped in gentle authority.

I looked up at him, his deep brown eyes searching mine, and felt a rush of warmth spread through me. My heart pounded in response, whispering its consent even before I found the words to say it. Nodding slowly, I felt a mix of excitement and nervousness coil within me.

With a soft smile, Noah took my hand, the warmth of his touch sending a jolt of comfort through me, as he guided me to the couch, the plush fabric a welcoming embrace as I sank into its depths. He threw a behind my head, resting it on the back of the couch. His grip remained gentle yet firm, a reminder of his steady presence.

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” he assured me, his voice rich with sincerity. “And if you ever want me to stop, you just say the word, okay?” I nodded again, a small but powerful gesture, and felt a wave of relief wash over me. I was safe here with him.

He leaned closer, his hand gently cupping my cheek, sending another rush of warmth through me. Our eyes locked, and Without breaking our gaze, he began to lean in, and instinctively, I tilted my head to meet him, closing the distance.

His lips brushed softly against mine, a tentative exploration, as if tasting the sweetness of the moment. The kiss deepened gradually, shifting from tender to a more passionate embrace. I found myself melting into it.

He pulled back slightly, and I could feel my breath quicken. The warmth of his palm still lingered on my cheek, and I craved more of his touch. “You okay?” he asked, his voice a blend of curiosity and concern.

I nodded again, a smile breaking across my lips, unable to find words that could capture how I truly felt.

Noah leaned in again, claiming my lips with a newfound urgency that sent my heart racing. I surrendered to the moment, letting him lead. I melted into him, as his hand slowly crept up my thigh, squeezing gently.

A whimper escaped my lips, surprising even me, but it drew a teasing smile from him as he pulled back just enough to look into my eyes.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, the corners of his mouth twitching upward in that way that made my wet core throb. His gaze was soft, and teasing an invitation to share my thoughts, and yet I felt my cheeks heat up.

With a shy nod, I felt a rush of warmth trickle through me. I was fumbling with my words, my heart racing as he challenged me to speak. “I—I…” I stuttered, feeling the weight of his gaze. “I feel really good.”

His smile widened at my confession, and he leaned in closer, brushing his lips against mine in a soft, lingering kiss before trailing them down my throat. A soft moan escaped me, unexpected yet welcome, as I let my fingers find their way into his soft brown hair.

I gripped it gently, feeling the softness between my fingers, grounding me in this moment that felt unreal.

“Good? Just good?” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin, sending shivers through me. He licked, and nipped along my neck, each time igniting a fire in my veins. I could hardly keep the gasp at bay as his lips danced over sensitive spots, leaving a trail of warmth in their wake.

“More than good,” I finally managed to reply, my voice barely above a whisper, caught between vulnerability and desire. The honesty in my words caused his teasing demeanor to shift, his eyes darkening with something deeper, something more serious.

He raised his head, his eyes locking with mine, stripping away the teasing to reveal a sincerity that made my heart flutter. “I want to make you feel amazing,” he said softly, his thumb brushing lightly over my inner thigh, so close to where I really needed him. “Tell me what you want.”

His words hung in the air, and I could feel the weight of them. My breath hitched, and I felt a blend of excitement and insecurity. I wanted him to keep kissing me, to keep this connection alive. “Just—keep doing that,” I whispered, motioning towards his hand on my thigh, my voice cracking just a bit. “But…but higher.” I whispered. 

Noah grinned, a spark of mischief igniting in his eyes. His hand slid up the rest of the way, his thumb pressing directly on my swollen clit through my shorts. “Right there?” His voice was low, and teasing.

His eyes never leaving my face. I let out a whine, nodding my head, as he once more dove back in, planting soft kisses all over my neck and jaw, eliciting soft sounds from me that filled the otherwise quiet living room. With every kiss, and stroke of his thumb, I felt myself unraveling, losing the grip of shyness and diving deeper into the growing intimacy between us.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured against my skin, his words swirling around us that made my heart race. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Noah slips from the couch next to me, moving with a sense of purpose that sends a flutter of anticipation through me.

He kneels between my thighs, the warmth of his presence enveloping me as he gently pushes me back until my back rests against the plush fabric of the couch. Pure excitement courses through my veins.

“You want me to take these off?” he asks, his voice low and smooth. I nod my head, unable to form words, my heart racing at the thought of what might happen next. There’s a moment of stillness, as if time itself is holding its breath in anticipation.

With careful hands, Noah reaches for my shorts, and slowly pulls them down, and off. There’s a sense of vulnerability, a rawness in the air. My breath catches, and I can feel the pounding of my heart echoing in the silence that surrounds us.

He gazes at me, his eyes sweeping over my form, a mixture of admiration and desire illuminating his features.

Once my shorts are gone, his eyes land on my undeniably soaked panties, and I feel a surge of warmth flood my cheeks.

There’s something in the way he looks at me – not just with hunger, but with a deep appreciation that makes me feel confident. The moment stretches, electric and charged, and I can see the unspoken questions dancing in his gaze.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice softer now, checking in as if the weight of the moment bears heavily on him too. I nod again, feeling any nervousness fade slowly. His presence is grounding, and I find comfort in his gentle demeanor.

He takes his time, studying me as if he’s tracing the shape of my form with his eyes. A shy smile tugs at the corners of my mouth, and I can’t help but feel a sense of empowerment.

“You’re soaked baby,” he groans. His thumb stroking down the wet patch of my panties, mixed with the pet name, sending flutters through my stomach, igniting a warmth that spreads throughout my body.

He leans in closer, and I can feel the heat radiating from him, hitting my aching cunt. Our gazes lock, before he grips my thighs, pulling them further apart. His lips ghosting my core before placing the softest kiss against it. The soft action sending a desperate whine flying from my lips.

I looked down at him, my breath hitching as he looked up from between my thighs. His deep brown eyes sparkled with mischief and affection, a teasing smile playing at the corners of his mouth. The vulnerability in that moment was intoxicating.

"What do you want?" he asked, his voice almost a whisper, sending shivers down my spine.

I felt another soft whine escape my lips, a plea both innocent and desperate. "Please Noah... take them off," I managed to murmur, the words barely forming as they left my lips.

Noah’s smile widened, illuminating his features with a warmth that made my heart flutter. He leaned forward, placing a gentle kiss on my thigh. The sensation was electric, igniting every nerve ending in my body.

There was a playful glimmer in his eyes as he slid his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties, moving slowly as if savoring every second. I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks, the anticipation building with each deliberate movement.

Time seemed to slow as he carefully pulled them off, exposing my wet folds to the cool air of the room.

His touch was featherlight, and every instinct in me screamed to draw him closer, to press deeper into the moment. I offered a shy smile, nodding my head encouraging him to continue. Noah’s gaze held mine as he removed the last barrier between us, dropping them to the floor beside the couch.

"Fuck baby," he whispered, his voice a husky murmur that sent a thrill coursing through me.

He bent forward, wrapping his hand softly around my throat, before pulling me forward into a messy kiss. His tongue licked into my mouth, tasting every inch of it. He pulled away, releasing my throat.

His lips dropped down trailing soft kisses along my inner thigh, as his fingers reached up softly rubbing up and down my slit, making whine his name. He paused, looking up at me with that beautiful teasing smile. “You like that baby?” I nodded, my hips bucking slightly.

“Please Noah.” He laughed softly, before slowly reaching up, shoving two of his long fingers, into my mouth. I licked, and sucked on them until they were covered in my spit.

He bit his bottom lip, as he watched me before slowly pulling them out.

Without another word, he ran his wet finger down my slit, and back up softly circling my swollen clit. He watched my reactions closely, with a small smile.

He slid them back down before slowly sinking his middle finger deep inside me. I let out a loud moan, gripping the couch cushions beneath me. “Feel good baby?” He groaned, like he was experiencing just as much pleasure, while doing it.

I slowly ground my hips against his finger nodding my head. “Fuck…yes” he nodded before pulling it out, and shoving in his ring finger in with it. I whimpered at the stretch.

His fingers reaching deeper inside of me than I ever could. He pumped his fingers a little faster, watching my face for any discomfort. I was losing my mind in pleasure. If his fingers felt this amazing, I could only imagine what his dick feels like.

“You gonna cum for me baby?” He asked, his fingers never slowing down. “Fuck Noah please…please make me cum.” His usual sweet, and playful demeanor suddenly turned dark, as I met his eyes.

His fingers crooked up, hitting that perfect spot, driving me wild. He leaned down, placing a kiss on my throbbing clit, before running his tongue flat from his fingers all the way up to my clit before sucking it into his mouth.

Hips stuttered, as my hands flew to the top of his head. I gripped his hair, tugging on it as he moaned against me, sending vibrations through my clit.

He released with a pop, before flicking it with his tongue softly. “Oh fuck Noah please, right there right there.” I was babbling nonsense over and over, lost in the pleasure of his tongue and fingers.

Noah never let up, pumping his fingers faster. He pressed his tongue flat against my clit, before shaking his head side to side. I instantly lost it, my orgasm hitting its peak. Noah slowed down, and kept a steady pace, and his tongue and fingers continued fucking me through it.

“Fuck baby you taste so good.” He groaned, trying to keep his composure. My thighs shook before closing around his head. When I finally came down, he pulled his lips away, stilling his fingers. I laid there catching my breath, as he sent a proud smile my way. I couldn’t help but smile and blush, realizing what just happened.

I quickly covered my face, laughing softly. He slowly pulled his fingers out, reaching up to remove my hands, before pulling me into another kiss. When he pulled away, he tapped my lips with the two fingers that were just deep inside of me. I opened up, letting him press them against my tongue.

I softly moaned around them, as pulled them out, shoving them between his own lips, cleaning them. I could have came again at the sight. He finally stood back up, sitting back on the couch next to me.

His hand softly gripped my jaw, turning my face towards him “Was that okay?” He smiled, but his question was genuine. The smile on his face was infectious, I couldn’t help but smile myself. “It was amazing.” He let out a soft laugh, leaning down bringing me into another kiss. This kiss was slower but just has needy as the rest. His teeth bit down on my bottom lip, and pulled away letting it pop back in place. “Yeah? You just wait til next.”

[jessejaredstories]

Walk on the Wild Side

Sergio was a walking gay man’s fantasy. He was tall and muscular as fuck. Beefy could barely even begin to describe him as everything from his biceps, chest, thighs, back, and even ass were massive! He made his living off of flexing his hot body as well as fucking other beefy dudes on camera. Sergio was truly living the life many could only dream of having.

But although Sergio was living the good life, he couldn't deny that something was missing. More specifically, something about his sex life. Sergio loved his very active sex life and was more often than not satisfied after every hookup he had. Yet at the same time, Sergio found himself wanting more. He wanted something new, and he knew exactly who to contact. Kris the Kink Witch.

Sergio reached out to Kris through Twitter DMs. Kris, like Sergio, also made his living off of recording and selling the videos of his gay escapades. He was known to be one incredibly kinky motherfucker online, and he took great pride in it too- as evidenced by his self proclaimed title the Kink Witch. But unlike Sergio, Kris took a much more professional approach to his line of work. For Kris, it wasn't about pleasure, it was about money. He meant business, and he never shied away from demonstrating that fact.

Fortunately, Sergio was also pretty well-known in the online gay community. Kris recognized Sergio and responded back to him within a couple of minutes. Their conversation went as follows...

S: Hey, you're the Kink Witch right? I've got a request in mind.

K: Yo. Yeah that's me. You want to film a collab together?

S: Not at all. I was actually thinking you and I can link up and have some fun. No cameras. 

K: Sorry, I don't do charity work. 

S: Trust me, I don't either. I just need to have some real fun and I know someone like you can help me out with that goal. I'll pay you a good amount too if you're interested.

K: Go on, I'm listening...

Sergio and Kris went on to negotiate the deal. In exchange for a kinky night of fun, Sergio would pay Kris $2500 in cold, hard cash. However, in order to earn that money, Kris needed to get Sergio to cum and to feel real pleasure while doing it too. But before they could seal the deal, Sergio gave Kris a heads-up by saying that he had already done almost everything anyone can think of. If it wasn't something new and exciting like he wanted, then Sergio had no problem calling the deal off. Yet despite his stark warning, Kris accepted the deal without any hesitation. It slightly unnerved Sergio how confident Kris was. He was pretty sure they both had more or less the same amount of experience when it came to sex. Could Kris really know something Sergio didn't?

Regardless of the initial unease Sergio felt, it was too late to back down now. Kris was already on his way to his apartment. Sergio passed the time by doing the usual prep work of cleaning himself out, just as Kris told him to. Yet despite his best efforts to distract himself, Sergio couldn't help but wonder what Kris had in store for him.

Does this twink really think he's gonna satisfy me just by fucking me? Ha! I've already taken on plenty of men, there's nothing new he can do there! 

Sergio chuckled at his own thoughts. His curiosity was making his mind run wild. Luckily it didn't take much longer for Kris to arrive. He showed up at the entrance of the building and Sergio buzzed him in. Sergio then welcomed the young man into his home, and although he was excited to hook up, he couldn't help but wonder if he was in over his head by hiring some 20 something year old dude with messy hair and a dirty hoodie. 

"Alright, you ready?" Kris said as he began to strip down to nothing but his underwear. 

"Yeah, do you wanna go-" 

"Wrong answer," Kris interrupted Sergio. "I'll excuse the first mistake but you'll only address me as Sir, Daddy, or Papi from here on out. Got it?" 

Sergio was thrown off by how to-the-point Kris was but decided to just ignore it. 

"Yes, Sir." 

"Good boy, now whip out your cock. Get hard too,"

Sergio did as he was told. Kris did the same. Sergio was impressed with Kris' member. It was long and hairy with some decent girth too. Although his was definitely longer, Sergio's cock was the thicker one. They were both hung, Sergio like a bull and Kris like a horse. Once they were both erect, Kris reached down to his pants. He pulled out two rings out of the back pocket, one gold and one silver. He put the gold ring on, then handed the silver cock ring to Sergio.

"Put this on, then on the count of 3, twist it to the right."

Sergio held the cock ring in his hand. The silver hue of the ring almost seemed to glimmer under the light. He hesitated putting it on. It definitely wasn't the first time he wore a cock ring, but Sergio got an inexplicable feeling telling him that he shouldn't put it on. Kris noticed his hesitation right away.

"C'mon, don't be shy, put it on!" Kris said firmly. Sergio looked up and met his gaze but didn't say anything. A moment of silence passed, then Kris sighed.

"Look man, you paid me to do a job and I plan to deliver. You trust me, right?" 

Kris seemed slightly more empathetic now. It was just enough to make Sergio trust him. Sergio nodded, then proceeded to put on the ring. He placed it on the tip of his dick and slid it down to the base of his rock hard member. 

"Alright, ready? 1... 2... 3!!!"

Sergio and Kris then twisted their cock rings to the right at the same time. The moment they did, a wave of orgasmic sensations hit their bodies, causing them to throw their heads back with pleasure. 

"UURRGGGHHHHH!!!" They both moaned obscenely loudly. 

Sergio's vision blurred as he felt the wave of pleasure overtake him. His body trembled as the ring grew tighter around his cock, making it engorged. Then suddenly, Sergio became extremely lightheaded. He could feel his very soul leaving his body. As his soul stepped out of its vessel, Sergio lost all physical feeling as he became nothing but a mass of light. He looked ahead and saw the same had happened to Kris. Both of their souls had just stepped out of their bodies!

Sergio was mind blown by what he was seeing. But before he could even react, his soul began moving on its own. His soul was floating towards Kris' body. At the same time, Kris was floating towards his body. During the brief moment they passed each other, Sergio could've sworn he saw Kris smirking. His soul continued its march towards Kris' body, and as soon as it made contact, it began sinking into the soulless body. Sergio's soul aligned with its new vessel within seconds. Every single cell of Kris' was invaded by Sergio's soul, and he could feel ecstasy wash over him as his soon-to-be new body surrended itself to his control. Once it was done, Sergio immediately felt the difference as he longer possessed his jacked, beefy body but instead a hairy twink like Kris. 

"Arghh fuckk.. what the fuck..." Sergio said with his new voice. All of the extraordinary sensations he just experienced made him fall to the ground. While he was busy trying to recover, he could see his body moving out of the corner of his eyes. 

"Bro look at these fucking pecs! These are some massive slabs of meat on your chest!!" 

Sergio watched as Kris bounced and groped his pecs with shameless joy. Slowly but surely, while Kris was enjoying himself, Sergio came back to his senses. He sat up, then kneeled down onto his knees. Well, Sergio was mostly back to his senses anyway. The sight of seeing a burly man play his own chest was filling him with lust. The only thing on Sergio's mind was how to best worship and please his master. 

Kris noticed Sergio was basically drooling and smirked.

"What's the matter, you want something?" Kris stripped down naked, then bounced his pecs again. Sergio nodded his head vigorously. "Then ask for it, tell Daddy what you want."

"I want milk Daddy..." Sergio said with bated breath and dilated pupils. "Please, Sir, let me worship your beautiful pecs!" 

"Good boy," Kris put his thumb on Sergio's chin and flicked it down, leaving his mouth hanging open with his tongue out. "Now show your Daddy what you can do with that mouth."

As soon as he heard he got permission, Sergio couldn't contain himself anymore and pounced onto Kris. He immediately planted his mouth on one of Kris' nipples and began suckling away while Kris enjoyed getting serviced. He was smirking all the while. His plan had gone off perfectly; the cock rings switched their bodies! That was the kink Kris had planned for Sergio, and he knew it would be the fun night he could've never predicted. After all, nobody knew how literal his title of Kink Witch was. But while Sergio was aware that they switched bodies, there was one little detail Kris kept to himself. Both rings would allow a body swap, but only the gold one would let the user retain their original personality. Because Sergio used the silver cock ring, his soul was forced to absorb Kris' hidden total sub personality when it took over his body. It might still be Sergio in mind and spirit, but it was now Kris in personality. With Kris possessing Sergio's muscular body with his mind still intact, the conditions were now set for him to complete the request Sergio made. 

"FUCK yeah, just like that!" Kris moaned. He could feel as Sergio alternated between licking, sucking, and flicking his nipple with his tongue. His warm mouth felt amazing against his sensitive nipples. Kris pressed Sergio's face down into his chest. Sergio let out a muffled groan of pleasure as he motorboated Kris. They were both having the time of their lives, filling the room with their sensual moans. 

Kris let Sergio worship his chest for a while longer before moving onto the next phases. Within the span of the next half hour, they made out passionately and intensely. Kris stuck his tongue inside Sergio's mouth as they grinded their bodies together, sharing their body heat together. Kris then began moving his mouth down Sergio's body, covering his neck and torso with hickies as he bit and sucked on his body. All while Kris had his middle finger firmly set inside Sergio's ass, massaging his hole and making him squirm while he claimed him as his sub. 

Then, before the final act, Kris tore Sergio off his body. He had a hand wrapped around his throat, lightly choking the panting young man. Sergio's eyes were lit with an intense lust, begging and desperate for more. Kris smiled internally. He had him right where he wanted him.

"Fuck, Boy!! You really know how to please your Master, I wanna give you a reward... Are you ready? Are you ready for Daddy's present for his favorite sub?" 

Sergio whispered "yes Sir, please Sir." Kris then pulled out a couple more things he brought and gave them to Sergio, who put them on enthusiastically. 

Sergio laid there with his ass perked up. Kris came up from behind and laid his big, strong hands on Sergio's perky cheeks. He massaged him first, letting Sergio's bubble butt jiggle in his hands for a bit. He then spread his cheeks apart and leaned down to stick his tongue deep inside his ass.

"Nghh..." Sergio groaned. He could feel Kris' tongue swirl and flick around inside of him and it. Felt. AMAZING. 

Kris ate Sergio out for a while, making sure his ass was nice, wet, and ready for his girthy cock. Once he had enough of using his tongue, Kris got back up and positioned himself just above Sergio. He let his dick rest in between his cheeks and moved it up and down, making Sergio squirm in anticipation. Then, with a wide grin on his face, Kris stuck his dick inside of Sergio. He let out a silent "fuck..." as he watched his cock head penetrate his bound up sub. He thrusted slowly, letting inch by inch of his fat member disappear into Sergio's hole. Kris was proud of his tight and warm hole, and now he finally got a chance to fuck himself in a very literal way. He waited a bit to let Sergio's wall expand to accommodate his dick, then began pounding away at him. 

Loud obscene moans, guttural groans, and boorish grunts filled the room as the two men fucked. Kris found the perfect rhythm to move his hips, fucking Sergio like he was a jackhammer. Sergio closed his eyes as he took the dicking down like a champ. Somewhere in the back of his head was the vague memory that he and Kris had switched bodies. The thought of getting fucked by his own body made his pleasure increase tenfold. It was his own cock stretching out his hole and rearranging his insides. It was a strange thought, but Sergio didn't care. All he could think about was how he was Daddy's personal fleshlight and how much he was loving servicing a big, strong man like Daddy. 

They fucked for a while longer until Kris couldn't hold his load in any longer. He pulled out, flipped Sergio over, tore off the jockstrap, then stuck his cock back on.

"C'MON! CUM FOR ME! COVER ME WITH YOUR- FUCKKKKK!!!!"

Kris finished mid sentence. He rammed his throbbing dick deep inside Sergio and let out all of his loads inside of him. Hearing Kris' satisfied groaning as he cummed along with the sensation of getting filled with his seed made Sergio shootout ropes of warm jizz all over. Within seconds, they had both become incredibly sweaty, potently musky, and drenched in Sergio's spunk. Sergio got his walk on the wild side and Kris completed his job.

Once they cooled down and cleaned up, Sergio collapsed onto his bed. Aside from the mind blowing sex, he was also exhausted by swapping bodies. He was a first time swapper after all, it was only natural. 

But just before he could drift away into a deep sleep, he noticed Kris was still moving around with his body.

"Hey... what are you doing?"

"Daddy's gonna go have a night out with his bros. Don't worry about it, just go to sleep."

Kris hopped into bed with Sergio. He kissed him on the forehead, snuggled with him, and watched as he fell asleep in his embrace. Sergio was way too tired to question it, and Kris was glad. Kris then hopped out of bed and let Sergio rest inside his body while he went out to complete his next assignment: find a hairy, muscle bear with a big ass. Now it was his turn to bottom, and although Sergio woke up the next morning not knowing where Master was with his body, he had no problem patiently and eagerly waiting until Daddy returned home.

[thejakeformerlyknownasprince]

Have you ever considered one (probably Marco lol) or multiple of the animorphs post war on some kind of celebrity tv show (ie game shows for charity or something like dancing with the stars)?

Oh man, if you throw Marco's win-at-all-costs attitude in with his natural trollishness, and then you take into account the media landscape of the naughts... Hoo boy.

Survivor: In a rare unanimous outcome, Marco is voted off by complete consensus after the third incident where he gets his team disqualified from a challenge by turning into a chimpanzee to complete an obstacle course.

The Dating Game: Marco is supposed to be the third contestant to introduce himself to the bachelorette. Instead, he comes out of his booth directly after the second contestant is done speaking, declares "Well, that's me persuaded!" pulls out his bouquet, and presents it to the man next to him: "Wanna go on a date, handsome?" The second contestant, blushing but looking flattered, takes Marco's hand in his; they walk off the set together.

Crossfire: After public statements about "not too sure on this climate change," Marco is invited to oppose an ecologist as they debate the reality of global warming. During the episode Marco remains silent as the scientist presents her arguments, even when the host prompts him repeatedly to argue. The host starts arguing with the scientist, only to have Marco shush him and go "I'm trying to listen!" After filming 3 hours' footage, during which the climate scientist spoke for 2 hours 50 minutes, Marco goes "Gotta bounce — have fun editing that!" and disappears into an air vent.

The Apprentice: Honestly, we're not sure what happened here? The host, like, disappeared, directly after the end of the season Marco appeared in. He's not dead, we don't think — I guess he moved to Uzbekistan? But no one's heard from him since he donated all his real estate holdings to the American Cancer Society and fled the country. Go figure.

[spaghettificationandpretzels]

Hello my dear! So excited for Kinkfest! Could I please request praise kink & size kink with Mr. Sex-On-Legs himself, Billy Russo? 😍

Thank you so much for requesting, everyone seems to like size kink with this man!

Masterlist

A soft touch

Contains: Protective Billy, violence, oral sex (f receiving) fingering, P in V, fluff.

1.3K words

Billy is very gentle and sweet, at least with you he is.

Billy was so proud, the charity auction you had put on for Curt's group had raked in more than enough to keep the doors open and butts in seats for months to come. To make matters even better, he got to stick to the rich assholes who acted like donating a few bucks on their out of the Anvil office was saving humanity.

He walked up behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulders as he whispered into your ear. "You did good tonight gorgeous."

You craned your head and kissed him, and his fingertips grazed your cheek as he spun around to pull you close. "You wanna get out of here?"

Billy grinned. "Fuck yeah."

He took her hand and led you outside, but before he could open the car a shout stopped you both in your tracks. "Hey, baby why don't you leave the pretty boy and have some fun with me?"

Billy went stiff as a board, placing you behind him so he could stand between you and the yelling man. "Billy, let's just go."

You didn't have time, the man was already swagging over, his drunk gate wobbling as he walked. You wrapped your hand around his upper arm and tried to pull him, but it made no difference. "You should listen to your girl buddy, you wouldn't want to embarrass yourself getting into a fight you can't win."

You tended to forget how tall Billy really was, how imposing his height could be with just a change in his mood because he never gave you a reason to notice it. "Go the fuck home, I won't ask again."

Damn alcohol and its effects because all the man did was laugh and rear his fist back. Billy didn't even need to think to stop it, he just dropped the man with one punch. He watched the man get up and hobble away, ignoring the string of obscenities that came from his mouth. He placed his hand on your lower back as he opened the car door and helped you inside. "Sorry about that gorgeous."

You reached out and grabbed his hand, looking over his bruised knuckles as he smiled down at you. "Are you alright?"

He nodded. "Yep, that guy was nothing."

He pushed your door closed and climbed into the driver's seat, kicking the car over as his hand found your tight. "Let's go home."

****

Billy placed his folded suit jacket over the chair back and cleaned his bruised hand in the sink before walking behind you and unzipping your dress. "Did I tell you how beautiful you look tonight?"

You nodded. "Twice."

He kissed a path from shoulder to shoulder across your upper back, ending up kissing a line from shoulder dome to neck until his lips were at your ear. "Then let me tell you again, you look beautiful."

Your dress fell to the floor, and he walked in front of you, stretching his hand out for you to take so you could step out of the pile. He walked you to the edge of the bed and paused, his eyes moving up and down your body to take in the lacy set of lingerie. "I'm am the luckiest man on the planet."

You unbuttoned his dress shirt as he slid the straps of your bra off your shoulders, licking his lips at the newly revealed skin when it hit the floor. He stilled for a moment, his fingers drifting down your chest until his thumb was circling a nipple with the softness of freshly fallen snow, and then the air caught, and his lips slammed into yours. There was a rush to shed the rest of your clothes, and then you were scurrying up the bed with Billy hovering over you.

He was rock hard, his long, thick cock standing attention as the tip leaked with his arousal. His lips were on yours again, all lust and heat and his massive hands grabbed at whatever flesh he could reach. It was hard to know where to touch, there was just so much of him that it left you spoiled for choice. His back rippled under your hands as you dug your nails into his skin when his lips sealed around a nipple, your head falling back into the pillows as heat filled you.

The other one got the same treatment and soon enough, he was pressing kissing all over your abdomen on his way further down. He lifted your legs over his shoulder and kissed every inch of your thighs that he could reach before looking up at you through his long eyelashes. "Can I?"

"Yes please."

You loved the way he held you when he did this, his forearm thrown over your hips, keeping you still while he licked at you like he wanted to win some prize and the other holding your thigh, his fingers pressing into the skin in indistinct patterns like he was typing out a code. A gasp caught in your throat as the hand on your thigh moved towards your centre, his fingers slipping under his lips as he slid them inside you.

His thumb replaced his mouth, and he looked up at you with a soft smile. "Does that feel good, Sweetheart?"

"Yes." His lips were back on you as he stroked your G-spot with his calloused fingertips as you wove your hands into his hair. Pleasure zipped up your spine with each pass of his tongue and curl of his fingers and you yanked his hair as he moaned against you. "Billy.." He groaned an affirmative, and you held him to you as you came, him riding the wave with you until your hips stilled against the bed.

He pulled away, wiping his face with the back of his hand before kissing a line up your body to your lips. He took your face in his face, resting his forehead against yours and smiled. "You're so good for me." You spread your legs and he settled between them, gripping his cock and rubbing it up and down your slit. "Can I?"

"Yes please." He didn't leave you waiting, sliding home with a grunt as he hiked your legs over his waist with one hand.

He buried his face in your neck as he started to rock his hips, his voice tight with pleasure as he spoke. "My good girl, I love you so much."

He shifted angles to hit your G-spot as he picked up sped, and you tilted your head to the side to give him more room to suck at your neck as he ran one hand downwards, between your bodies to rub your clit. His lips broke away from your flesh so he could gaze into your eyes, his face filled with affection as he watched your expression fill with pleasure. "Can you give me another one?"

You gasped and nodded with each hitch of his lips, and he smiled. "I know you can." Your nails dug into his back as the edge approached and he kissed you again, nibbling your lower lip as he pushed you into a spine snapping orgasm. "Good girl."

He shifted again, putting his weight onto his hands as he chased his high. With one last thrust, he collapsed on top of you, his chest heaving as he kissed you softly. He rolled off you, moving onto his back to take you with him so your head rested on his chest. "Thank you gorgeous girl."

You sighed. "I should be thanking you."

He smirked and pressed his lips to your temple. "No, you have no idea how much I love you."

You turned your head and pressed a kiss to his firm chest. "I do, and I love you too."

He wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in your hair. "I'll run you a bath in a bit, I just want to hold you a little longer."

You laid your face on his cheek, and his eye fluttered closed. "I like the sound of that."

Fin

[cleoluvrr]

high school sweethearts (rafe cameron x reader) III

these are the requirements, if you think you can be my one true love

WARNINGS: mature content; dark!rafe, dub!con, corporal punishment, domestic violence, substance abuse & addiction, controlling behavior, coercion, manipulative behavior, stalking, toxic relationship, attempted suicide, kook!reader

masterlist

series masterlist

in spite of your refusal, rafe decided that the two of you were going shopping. it was the last thing you wanted to do, but rafe had an obsession with showing you off to everyone who had working eyes.

ironically, he didn’t hate when men looked at you–at least not while he was around. he loved it. he got a rush from watching other guys ogle you and know they could never have you. you hated public affection, but he loved to kiss you or walk around with his hand dangerously low on your back wherever you went just for wandering eyes.

fancy dinners, midsummers, the country club, charity events; anything that he got parade you around like a prized showhorse. you were sure rafe only took you to those things just to rub it in his father’s face. the child with a reputation of being a drug dealing deadbeat had a smart, well-mannered, soft-spoken girl hanging off his arm everywhere he went. one with reputable parents and was pursuing a college education. it made ward red in the face to know that someone like you was committed to his son, and it made your boyfriend feel overjoyed.

today was no different–not at first.

the last place you wanted to be was in a shopping center filled with rich kids and tourons, but rafe insisted that he wanted to buy you new clothes for the rapidly cooling weather. fall was in full swing and he refused to have his girlfriend walking around town in out-of-season fashion. it made no sense to you; rafe never cared about fashion being in or out of season, but you didn’t feel like putting up a fight.

the exhaustion of pulling your clothes on and off repeatedly was starting to overcome you. your skin was sticky and itchy from the hot fitting rooms, your feet were aching from the mary janes squeezing against your toes, and all the noise was overstimulating you. 

usually, you wouldn’t complain. you would just suck it up until rafe decided to take pity on you and bring you home with pounds worth of shopping bags that you didn’t even want in the first place. it was just something you had to do and there was no use in fighting him on it.

this time, however, you weren’t in any mood to be pulled around by rafe beneath the fluorescent, sterile lights of a crowded mall. 

after the second hour you began huffing and dragging your feet. you were sure rafe noticed, but he said nothing; you were still going along with it enough for him to leave it alone. it was hour three that you actually began to put up noticeable resistance. still he said nothing.

you hoped that your incessant whining would annoy him enough to take you home, but it was of no assistance.

your shoes clicked against the linoleum floor loudly as you stomped behind your boyfriend, jaw clenched and lips jutted out in a glossy pout. rafe’s fingers laced through yours as he led you around, paying no mind to your silent tantrum. you exhaled again, feet planting firmly into the ground as you tugged your hand away from him.

that was what made the blonde finally turn back to face you.

“i wanna go home, rafe.” you folded your arms across your chest as you said it, eyes wide and glaring up at your boyfriend just a few steps away.

he rolled his eyes in response, tongue in cheek. he was clearly annoyed, but you continued pushing anyway.

“we can leave soon, baby.” he reaches for your hand again but you step back to avoid his grasp. a pair of blue eyes squint at you in reaction to your act of defiance.

“don’t ‘baby’ me.” you snipped at him. “i wanna leave now, rafe. i’m tired–i didn’t even want to come here in the first place.”

he reaches for you again silently, his silent response only managing to irritate you further. you smacked his hand away before it landed on your waist.

“don’t fucking touch me!” a few people nearby turned their heads in your direction, your raised volume capturing the attention of passerbyers. “you’re not even listening! i just said i wanna go home now, we’ve been here long enough and i’m fucking irritated.”

rafe hardly seemed moved by your outburst, but his calmness was deceiving to the average onlooker. looking down at the hand you smacked away, his head slowly raised to meet your eyes with a look that had you struggling to collect saliva to wet your dry mouth.

the two of you held the tense contact for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have lasted more than a few seconds. nodding at you, he moved to walk in the opposite direction towards the mall’s entrance. his strong hand snatched you into his hold as he passed by you, long legs leaving you stumbling behind him as he stalked through the center.

rafe’s anger was radiating off of him in waves, so strong that anyone passing by could feel the heat filling the air. he never looked back at you once, but you felt as if he had a second pair of eyes in the back of his head that left your skin boiling. 

though his demeanor was calm, the bone-crushing grip he held on your hand as he dragged you through the mall was enough to know you were in for it. 

you, on the other hand, couldn’t help the chill that ran through every layer of your being. it was hard to tell if your heart had stopped beating completely, or if it was beating so fast that you couldn’t differentiate each thump of it against your chest. your mouth had gone completely dry and the irritation that once filled you was now replaced with a heavy cloak of dread.

reaching his dark colored truck, rafe opened the back door to place the shopping back in the back seat before slamming it shut. the harsh sound made you flinch but rafe paid it no mind as he dragged you to the passenger’s side. your lips were tucked into your mouth tightly as you eyed him warily, the blond man tugging at the handle to reveal your seat in the car. 

the drive to his house was as uncomfortable as you thought it would be. he didn’t turn the radio on like usual, forcing you to sit in silence as you traveled to your destination. it was five minutes in that you realized you weren’t going to your own house like you requested. the realization made your stomach drop. you knew that it meant nothing good was going to happen once you stepped out of the car.

the driveway was empty when the two of you arrived at tannyhill, neither rose or ward anywhere in sight as you approached the large estate. 

your footsteps were light and hesitant as you trailed behind your boyfriend, shoes barely making a sound as they landed against the old floors of his family’s house. the feeling of dread intensified the closer you got to rafe’s bedroom. you weren't sure what would happen and the feeling of unknowing unsettled your stomach.

“y’know…” rafe finally broke the silence between you two as his bedroom door clicked shut. “i do so much for you.”

sitting the shopping bags down in the corner, rafe takes slow steps towards your frozen figure. you sniffed nervously and cleared your throat in response. he places a warm hand on your face when he reaches you, the soft gesture not matching the fire in his eyes. 

“i do so much for you. all i ask you to do for me…is show some respect.” his pink tongue pokes out the side of his mouth to wet his lips before retreating. “isn’t that right?”

“yeah…” the single word came out just as wobbly as you felt. he nodded at you, eyes flickering down to your bobbing throat as you swallowed dryly. 

“‘yeah…’” he mocked your unstable voice. “so–tell me why you think it's okay to talk to me like that? is it ‘cause you don’t respect me?”

you shook your head against the palm he held against your warm cheeks. his gaze was unrelenting and you felt like you were gonna be sick.

rafe already had you on thin ice from going to the cut last week. he was still mad about you blatantly ignoring his request, and this was only another stroke of a hammer to a frozen lake. he hated feeling like you were questioning his authority, but it felt ridiculous to you that your boyfriend thought he had any authority over you as a grown woman. that never mattered to him though; what he says is law in his eyes and if you disobeyed that then you had to deal with the consequences.

cursing at him in public had to be one of the dumbest things on planet earth, but your overstimulated mind couldn’t handle thinking about what could possibly happen. it didn’t quite dawn on you until he started dragging you through the mall, but by then it was too late to fix it. 

he had a short fuse and you’d lit it with your thoughtless actions. 

“i was just tired, rafe, that’s all.” you pouted up at him in hopes that he’d feel some sympathy for you rather than whatever had his bright blue eyes turn a dark shade of navy. “i didn’t mean to disrespect you. i just wasn’t thinking and it came out mean, i’m sorry…”

“you wouldn’t have to apologize all the time if you just…started thinking, huh?” his hand retracted from your face just a couple inches before reconnecting harshly. his palm stung against your skin, not enough to leave a mark but enough to serve as a warning. “fucking answer me.”

“no, i wouldn’t. you’re right,” the warm tingling of your cheek let you know there was no pouting your way out of this. “i was being dumb. i’ll do better, rafey, i promise…”

manipulation was wrong, but what choice did you really have? despite rafe being quick to anger, his soft spot for you was a weakness you’ve learned to use to your advantage over the years. 

when you looked up at him with pitiful, teary eyes and used that cute nickname for him in that little voice that pulled at his heartstrings, how could he stay mad at you? how could he reprimand you when you were being so sweet, so docile? 

you knew very well that he was wrapped around your finger even if he did have the upperhand in the relationship, and you would absolutely play on that when you needed to. 

like right now.

“baby…” rafe sighed at your wet eyes, demeanor softening at the sight. he thumbs over the skin of your cheek where he struck just you moments earlier in a soothing manner. 

looking down towards the floor you begin picking at your nails, the glossy french tips occupying your line of sight instead. it was something you always did when you were nervous, but this time it was only for show. 

“i’m really sorry.” if rafe were so close he wouldnt have heard the words leave your mouth. you prayed to whatever deity was watching over you to let the act work; rafe’s punishments were nothing you wanted to be on the receiving end of at the moment. 

rafe exhales again before removing his hand from your face. pulling you into his chest, he leans down to place a kiss to the top of your head amidst your embrace. if it wouldn’t completely jeopardize the situation you’d jump for joy. you melt into his arms, your own limbs moving to wrap around his lean torso. his hand reaches up to stroke over your head sweetly as he speaks into your scalp.

“go lie on the bed.” 

you tilted your head up at him in confusion. his softened eyes started down at you expectantly before glancing pointedly at the bed a few feet away. your feet carried you to the frame hesitantly, brows coming together as you pulled yourself up on the mattress. you’d barely settled before rafe was right there with you, his soft lips capturing yours in an embrace.

a sound of surprise on your end was swallowed by your boyfriend as he kept your lips connected. his hand came up to cup your jaw, using his thumb to pull your chin down and give him access to the pink of your mouth. you felt his tongue roll over yours gently a few times, the wet sound of saliva mixing filling your ears. 

there was nothing rough about it. even when he nipped at the flesh of your puffy bottom lip, he would take it in between his own and take away the sting of it. his air mingled with yours, and the taste of him almost distracted you from what got you here in the first place. he was good at that–distracting you.

so good, that you don’t notice the sneaky hand traveling between your bodies.

you jolt when a pair of fingers lands between your legs, ones that were not your own, and traces over the thin fabric of your underwear. rafe stopped you from pulling away, the hand on your chin moving to the back of your head to keep you in place. it was hard to focus on reciprocating the kiss when you were trying to stop yourself from pushing your hips up into his slow moving hand.

the feeling of him ghosting over your panties had you whining involuntarily, face heating up with embarrassment after the sound escaped your dry throat. rafe pulled away at the noise, a small smile grazing his lips as he watched you from above. you didn’t even notice that you were grinding into his barely there fingers, desperate for him to give you something more. it had been weeks since you touched yourself, and the last time rafe touched you was before you tried to break up with him.

“you’re so cute…” rafe spoke softly against your parted lips. a breathy chuckle escaped him when you frowned at him frustratedly. “stop pouting, it’s not gonna make me go any faster.”

despite him saying that, you feel him apply more pressure to your now pulsating clit. the friction of the fabric separating his fingers from your bare skin felt good, but not good enough to satisfy you for long. he stroked you from the bottom of your clothed slit all the way to the very top of your pussy before traveling back down and repeating the action. 

the slow, tantalizing circles around your attention–seeking bud made you feel just as miserable as you felt desperate for him to continue. 

rafe’s eyes scanned every inch of your face; the way you trapped your lip between your teeth to keep yourself quiet, the way your big, glossy eyes stared up at him, how your breath hitches when he applied the smallest amount of pressure. there was no hiding anything from him, not when both of you could feel the arousal leaking through the thin, pink fabric that kept your modesty.

he chuckled breathily when you brought a hand down to meet his wrist. you were sure if you wanted to push him away or pull him in closer.

“what is it, baby?” rafe asks curiously. he raises a dark blond brow at the soft whine that slips from your mouth, the answer not satisfactory enough for him. “know how to cuss me out, right? your mouth works just fine–use it.”

you blinked at him slowly, the snippy response on the tip of your tongue being forced down with the saliva gathering beneath the pink muscle. 

“can you…” the words were shaky as they left you, partially due to the teasing fingers spreading your wetness through your underwear. “c-can you touch me…please?”

rafe never made you ask him for anything. he always knew what you wanted, and he was more than willing to give it to you. you were a shy person and that timidity didn’t suddenly disappear when you two started being intimate with each other. it was hard for you to open up to him in that way, and he always made sure that you felt comfortable with him.

if he asked what you wanted, it was normally just teasing. he never really expected an answer and your mousy whimpers were enough for him to keep going. this was not something you were prepared for.

the blonde tilted his head to the side, feigning confusion. the way his digits were pressing into your entrance over the material made your lips part to allow a puff of air to escape.

“touch you?” he said. briefly his eyes flicker down to the hand between your legs being hidden by the fabric of your skirt before returning to meet your eyes. “am i not touching you?”

“but–i…” he was touching you, so you couldn’t argue against that, but he knew that wasn’t what you meant. “you are but th-that’s not...i mean really touch me.” 

“but i am ‘really’ touching you?” you pouted at him, eyes straining as you tried your hardest to prevent them from rolling. “you want more?”

rafe made no moves to oblige to your request when you started nodding your head frantically. instead he squinted at you, blue eyes burning against your skin fueled by his irritation.

“y’know, you’re being kinda…ungrateful, don’t ya’ think?” his tongue sneaks out to moisten his pursed lips. “i’m being so nice and you aren’t even thanking me?”

the hand not occupying the space between your legs travels to take place on your face, his strong fingers pushing in on your cheeks to squish them together roughly. you could feel the pads of the digits digging into the hardness of your teeth and it made you wince from the pain.

his fingers hook beneath the fabric of your panties and move them to the side. the cool air blowing against your newly bare skin was barely noticeable when all of your focus was on your boyfriend sliding through your slick folds. rafe’s face remained stoic even when you released a borderline pornographic moan from the sudden skin to skin contact, his grip on your face preventing you from hiding the sounds of pleasure.

he’d barely touched you and you were practically leaking; it was embarrassing. it’d been forever since you felt relief and he could tell, especially when the sticky mess was all over his fingers. you wanted so badly for them to sink inside and graze against your sensitive, gummy walls, but they never went any deeper than grazing against the entrance.

“i know what m’girl wants, what she needs–” rafe’s voice is soft but he looks the very opposite. the one-eighty almost gave you whiplash; he was being so sweet just a few minutes ago and now he looks just as agitated as he did on the ride home. “i know what you want, baby, i promise…”

you have to force yourself to not chase after his retreating hand with your hips. the loss of contact brings your mind out of its fuzzy, dazed state, bare pussy exposed to the blasting air-conditioning.

his thick digits are glistening in the light and covered in your arousal, strings of the sticky substance connecting his fingers together as he examines them in front of your face. with the hand on your face he forces your mouth to open wider, the flavor of your excitement coated the pinkness of your tongue. the sudden intrusion makes your mouth water reflexively and a sound of protest makes its way out.

“but what you need, is to learn how to be fucking grateful for what i give you.” rafe drags his fingers in and out of the moist coven of your mouth, making sure to thoroughly cover your tongue in the slick that was collected on his fingers.  “you should be grateful that i even touched you at all instead of shoving my cock in that nasty fucking mouth.” 

you almost gasped at the vulgar language but it was interrupted by his fingers shoving themselves deep into your throat. he was unmoved by your gagging, his face getting so close to yours that your noses touched. you could feel stray tears starting to run down your face and leave wet trails in their wake. 

watching as he gathers a pool of saliva in his cheeks, you could do nothing to stop him from allowing it to fall into yours. you feel it land in the back of your throat where his fingers were and flinch. the taste of him joins your pre-release in being fucked down your clenching throat by his fingers, your incessant coughing and gagging no deterrent to him. 

in fact, he finds some joy in it. he chuckles at the sound of your struggling, eyes focused on the wet mess created by your mouth.

“but you don’t even deserve that…my dick is too good for you. filthy ass mouth needs to be cleaned before i’d ever give it to you. ” his blonde locks fall in his eyes as he shakes his head in disapproval. “you know what–get the fuck up.”

pulling his fingers out of your mouth completely and releasing your face, he snatches you up to your feet. he drags you to his bathroom, one of his hands flicking on the lights while the other digs into the flesh of your bicep. 

you watch as he opens the medicine cabinet above the sink and slams it back shut, a white box visible in his hand from the mirror. he releases you for a moment to rip the packing open and reveal a brand new bar of soap. a state of paralysis overtook you from where you stood, eyes following him silently as he cut on the faucet. his gaze is fixated on you through the reflection of the mirror as he allows the bar of soap to foam up underneath the water.

rafe pulls you close, not giving you any chance to escape as he traps you against the bathroom counter with his back against your chest.

“open your mouth.” he says sternly. when you don’t follow instructions, his free hand reaches up to force your jaw open. “i said open your mouth!”

the bitter taste of dial disturbs you, the oval shaped bar scraping against your teeth as it’s shoved into your mouth. a muffled sound of rejection is silenced by the soap occupying all of your senses. you watch in the mirror as rafe holds both you and the foamy bar in place. 

“‘i just wasn’t thinking, rafey, i’m sorry.’” the mocking words were a repeat of what you said earlier. “yeah, you are sorry–but i bet you’ll start thinking now.” 

it felt like an eternity that he held the bar between your lips. when he finally pulled it away, you immediately leaned forward to spit out the substance. rafe was quicker than you, though, his large hand smacking against your lips to prevent you from ridding your mouth of the residue. your hand flew up to his wrist in an attempt to remove it but he doesn’t budge, his palm firm in its placement.

“no, you’re gonna keep it in that dirty fuckin’ mouth.” his voice was harsh in your ear, more annoyed than empathetic towards your desperate squirming. “you think some tears are gonna save your ass? not this time, baby…bet you’ll remember to watch how you talk to me, huh?”

nodding frantically, you plead with your eyes in the reflective glass before you. it was getting hard not to swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth and you weren’t sure how much longer you could handle the harsh taste of filmy, anti-bacterial suds. 

you filled your mouth with handfuls of water as soon as he released you. no matter how many times you brought the liquid to your lips to rinse the residue away, it was all you could taste. rafe remained stiff at your back, the heat of his body radiating against yours as he observed you judgmentally.

“remember how that shit tasted before you ever talk to me like that again, alright?” rafe all but spits the words out at your hunched frame over the faucet. “next time…i won’t be so nice.”

you glance up into the mirror and follow his back as he exits the bathroom. straightening up to your full height you’re met with the disheveled state of your reflection, dry tear stains over your cheeks and chapped lips left behind to show for the mercilessness of your boyfriend. the counter beneath fell victim to the crushing pressure of your fingers as your knuckles strained from the tightness of your grip.

sniffling, your tongue lolled over your chapped lips to moisten them before retreating back to its place. your throat bobbed as you forced the saliva down your throat, the sound of your gulping audible in the silent bathroom. you could hear rafe was shuffling around the bedroom a few feet away, footsteps traveling back and forth as he went through the shopping bags to presumably separate his stuff from yours.

rafe hadn’t done something like that in…in forever. 

the last–and only–time it happened was because you called him out of his name. you could suddenly remember the taste of lavender scented hand soap being scrubbed across your tongue by his angry fingers as he cleaned the words out of your mouth. the way your stomach turned when you would accidentally swallow the liquid every time he pushed too far down your throat. how he treated you like a petulant, misbehaving child deserving of corporal fucking punishment like it was the 1950’s.

you’d nearly forgotten that even took place–maybe because your brain decided it was a memory that had to be blocked out in order for you to stay with rafe after it occurred. you wish it had remained at the forefront of your mind so you wouldn't end up in the position again.

splashing water onto your tearstained face, you wipe away the mess before warily joining rafe in the bedroom on the other side of the doorframe. the end of the mattress was occupied by his body, the back of his head being the first thing you see. 

“come here.” his voice was softer than it was earlier but it still startled you, heart beating through your chest as he beckoned you towards him.

you were suddenly reminded of the wetness between your thighs as you approached him. the way your folds slid against each other beneath your ruined underwear as you took hesitant steps in his direction. it made you feel dirty–even after being gagged with a bar of soap.

pulling you between his legs, rafe rests his arms around your waist as you stand before him. he stares up at you apologetically, almost, eyes soft and bright as he toys with the hem of your sweater. your arms hung awkwardly by your sides, stiff and unsure of where to go.

“you know i just want you to do better right?” he asks. “i’m going to marry you one day, y/n, and my wife can’t talk to me like that…especially not in public. you understand why i had to do that right?”

you say nothing. it feels as if you’re on autopilot the way your head nods, the movement almost a reflex you’d learned just to appease him.

“i can’t keep letting it slide anymore, baby. you’ll just keep doing it and i can’t let everyone think i’m–i’m a pushover…’cause i’m not. i don’t want people thinking i can’t handle my girl–you get that, right?” he nodded his head and you followed his movements, still on autopilot. “you help me be better too, y’know…i just wanna do the same for you, okay?

“okay.” the single word came out so softly you weren’t sure if he heard it. your hands came together to pick at your nails, the slightly grown-out french tips falling victim to the nervous habit.

rafe unwrapped his arms from around your waist and pulled your hands apart as he took them into his own. the warmth of his palms thawed out your freezing fingers, blood rushing back into the tips. his lips ghosted over your knuckles as he blew hot air over them and rubbed the coldness out of them. your body had focused on keeping your organs warm over your extremities, poor blood-circulation a symptom of the persistent anemia you just couldn’t seem to get rid of.

“i love you so much that…th-that i don’t even know how….” he stumbles over his words. his adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, collecting his thoughts before speaking again.  “i do what i do because i love you, not because i wanna hurt you. i’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose, so don’t ever think that…okay? do you understand?”

you believed him, even though it was the last thing you wanted to do.

truly, you believed he didn’t do anything to hurt you. you knew that he never really had any bad intentions with his actions. rafe was irrational, short tempered, and had never seen what a healthy romantic relationship looked like in his life.

even with all of his flaws, has never hurt you just for the fun of it. he was mean sometimes, sure, but he was like that with everyone. actually hurting you has never been on his agenda, which is probably why you allowed yourself to stick around so long before. however, most of the things he did were reactionary to losing control. it was one of the few things he lacked in his life and he hated when the little he had was taken away from him. 

you were, quite frankly, the only stable thing he had.

if anything were to threaten that stability he would lose his mind. he would do whatever it takes to eliminate that threat; even you. he couldn’t lose you, not when you were all he had. his dad treated him like a disgrace, sarah barely liked him, and sure he had friends–but if he didn’t have money or status, would they stay with him?

you’d seen rafe at his absolute worst, but you never left. when he barely treated you like a human you stuck around because you saw something in him that no one else did. he knew that even if he left, you’d still take him in with open arms and love every part of him. you understood him in a way nobody else could, and he so desperately needed that.

violence and wealth is what his father uses to maintain control over him and everyone else, so that’s all rafe knows how to do. that’s what he was taught, and it’s hard to unlearn when it works so well. 

you’ve seen the things he has done to other people that have crossed him, and though he loved you to the ends of the earth, he would have no problem doing the same thing to you. he made good on his threats to the people that have done him wrong. you knew this first hand because it was you that washed the blood of his hands and bandaged his knuckles. you’d seen the dents in his golf clubs and the scratches in the paint of his car that looked an awful lot like fingernails. you never question it because getting involved in the world of drug dealing rich kids isn’t something on your list of priorities, but you were well aware of what he did to people.

he knew scaring you would keep you around, so that’s what he does. keeps you in a constant state of fear. even if it meant giving you a mouthful of soap.

“i understand.” you dropped your chin lower to look him directly in the eye. his long lashes brushed over the tops of his cheeks as his eyes fluttered open and shut. “i know you’d never hurt me on purpose, so don’t worry about that. i love you…and i’m sorry.”

rafe sighed heavily–out of relief or exhaustion? you weren’t sure. 

opening up your hand to reveal your palm, you watched as he brought it close to his face to place gentle kisses over the skin. you felt him press his lips against each section of your hand from the bottom to the top, no area left untouched. turning it over, he repeats his previous actions. each knuckle on your right hand is left tingling by the pink, pillowy flesh.

“you’re so perfect for me…my perfect girl.” he whispers loud enough for you to hear, eyes opening up to stare back into your watchful gaze above him. “you’re gonna be my perfect wife, too; i know it. gonna put a ring on this finger right here–”

taking a hold of your forefinger, he places a kiss there in the same manner he did your other fingers. he keeps his lips there longer; the intimate action makes your stomach do a flip and your heart swell. you’d felt so many emotions today that you wanted nothing more than to turn your brain off–but he made it so impossible.

“and make you mine forever.” rafe finishes the sentence after pulling away. he laces his fingers into yours and pulls you in with his freehand on your lower back. “everyone’s gonna be so jealous because they can never have you–could never be you.”

even though it killed you to admit it; you wanted it just as much as he did. well, probably not as much–but you’d be lying to yourself if you said you couldn’t see yourself with him forever. the idea of him putting a ring on your finger put a smile on your face even when you tried your hardest to suppress it.

fear wasn’t the only thing keeping you around.

[kafka-ish]

I think if Art wasn’t as serious about tennis he’d be such a coworker. Maybe it’d be in between summers at Stanford and it’s your first week there. He’s scheduled to train you, show you the ropes but when you first walk in he thinks you’re just another customer, a really pretty customer that’s got him changing up the script. Hey! How’s it going? What can I do for you? Find everything alright? He’s already thinking of ways he can slip you his number, maybe he’ll write it on your receipt. And he’s typing in his ID to give you his discount, anything until you say, “Actually, I work here.”

Art stops typing. Looks up, completely dumbstruck because you’re too pretty to be selling yourself out for some minimum wage corporation, to be doing any sort of labor. You need to be taken care of; any reason you should step foot in here would be to pick out a new tennis racket for a match you have. But you’re here. You work here. So he cancels out the order and says something about how he’ll get you a t-shirt, stay there.

He’ll take you to the back where the employee bathrooms are. You watch his fingers when he punches the numbers. “It’s like a six,” he says, and you think about that every time you use the code to get in. He waits for you outside the door while you’re changing, wishing he could get a glimpse, wishing he could be on the other side. He gets hard just thinking about it. He thinks about the kind of bra you’re wearing, if you’re wearing one, what you look like underneath the fabric. And he thinks you look so cute in that work-issued uniform even if the collar of your shirt isn’t folded over correctly - it only gives him the urge to reach over and fix it. Sorry, he says when he retracts his hand and sees the look you give him. He doesn’t mean it, not entirely, by the way a smile starts working its way on his face.

Art would give you a tour before you get started. He wants to show you around and he loves that he gets to be the first one to make an impression. Fucking revels in it. But he’s also weighted with the worry of making a good impression so some of his delivery is awkward: this is the stockroom it’s where we get stuff to… stock / we separate brands in sections so if someone asks where adidas is you can point to the three lines back there / managements making us ask everyone if they wanna round up their change but you don’t have to. I just ask anyone who’s paying cash. Or if they’re cute. The system makes you put their email in. He flushes a little because he doesn’t know why he says that last part.

I think Art would be so patient when he’s training you. He would take his time to over-explain everything and he doesn’t realize he comes off sounding like a douche. Telling you what all the buttons mean and asking if you want to come with him when he’s about to stock something just so you can see where it is for next time, obviously. But it’s just an excuse to talk to you!! He doesn’t know how and he figures since you both work there it’s an easy in and you think it’s so adorable that because it’s a slow day he’s pretending to be your first customer, gathering random items, having you scan them, and reminding you to ask if he wants to round up his change for charity.

“Not today”

“Okay, your total will be—”

“Hold on. You don’t want my email?”

“Well, you said no so…”

“No. Convince me. Really try and convince me.”He wants to know what lengths you’d go for him if this is how you’d happen to meet. So you say, okay it’s for this charity you guys are having.

“Say it’s for homeless animals. They eat that shit up,” Art lets you in on this piece of information like the manipulator he is.

“Is that what you do?”

And Art would make sure to stay near you just in case you need something, always bags the customers’ items so you can focus on the transaction. He loves the way you say his name, how timid you are when you whisper Art when you need help. He imagines that’s how you say it when he’s eating you out.

[rebelliousstories]

Toxic as Rads

Relationship: Cooper “The Ghoul” Howard x Reader

Fandom: Fallout

Request: Yes by @silverose365

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Strong Language, Suggestive Themes

Word Count: 1,307

Main Masterlist: Here

Fallout Masterlist: Here

Summary: They had not been alright for a long time. They would breakup, and then make up. A vicious cycle with no foreseeable end.

“Damnit Coop! I am so sick and tired of running in these damn circles.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t be chasin’ your own bullshit.”

This had been going on for hours now. The couple had holed up in an abandoned facility that was still somehow standing after all the years, and bombs. Neither one could remember what this argument was about this time, but that is how they worked. They would fight. They would make up. And they would do it all again the next day.

It did not used to be like this though. They used to be happy, and in love.

~

“Listen, I just need someone to show me the ropes. I was thrown out here and I don’t wanna die.” A feminine voice pleaded with a cowboy that was busy walking away.

“Don’t do charity cases, darlin’. Not even if they’re cute like you, Vaultie.” His voice was growing more and more distant.

“Hey! Ghoul, you want this back?” Turning back around, Cooper found that she was holding a gun, and a box of chems. Patting himself down, he found that he was missing one of his guns, and his box of chems. He marched right up to the girl with a low growl.

“Gimme that, little girl. You don’t know what that’s gonna do.” He tried to get his effects back, but what unsuccessful. Cooper tried again, and finally got them back, but she just swiped his hat off of his head while his hands were full.

“Listen here, I don’t do no damn charity cases.” The Ghoul grabbed his hat back once he had stashed his gun and chems.

“Please. I’m really good at stealing. I can get you anything you want.” She begged once more, looking close to getting on her knees.

“Anything I want?” He pressed, watching in amusement as her head nodded up and down fast.

“Alright, Vaultie. Let’s see what you’re made of.” He turned on his heel and left, smirking as the vault dweller was hot on them to follow.

~

“Coop, I am tired of this shit. Can you just trust me to do a job, or do fuckin’ anything?” She screamed, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Well then maybe you should make it easy and go. Not like I expected a damn vault dweller to stay around me like a lost puppy.” He thought to himself, but did not realize that he had actually said it aloud. Cooper watched as the horror morphed into melancholy on her face. With her face, he finally realized his mistake.

“Darlin’, now I didn’t mean that. Come here.” Cooper tried to gather her in his arms, but she slipped out faster than him. She ran around the room and collected her items that were strewn about, trying to get them on faster than Cooper could get to her.

“Sweetheart, you know that’s not what I meant. I was just upset. Please let’s talk this through. No need to do anything rash.” But she had bolted out the front door before he ever got there, and ran into the night. Howard tried to follow her, but there was a reason she was good at stealing; she was also amazing at not being found. Looking out into the night sky, Cooper screamed to the heavens, although he knew no one would hear his call of despair. Retreating back into the building, he threw, kicked, and hit anything he could get his hands on. Once his rage had been exhausted, Cooper made sure he had all of his gear with him, before he set out into the night.

By day three, he was pissed. Cooper should be proud; he had trained her on how to survive in the Wasteland and avoid detection. But this was him, using his own tracking skills to track down on someone he had personally trained. The fact that she was staying a step a head was impressive and infuriating. He had followed her near a settlement; a very familiar settlement. This was the same town that he had gotten her from all those years ago. It was a little more rundown, but the structures still stood as strong as they could.

“God damnit woman.” Cooper knelt down to collect a familiar pouch that held a vintage camera with a little bit of film left. They had found it together their first year traveling together and she took every opportunity to get pictures together. He knew the negatives on that film were all of him, or of them together. Why she dropped it, he did not know. But it could not have been a good reason. Strapping it into his own pouch on his saddle bag, Cooper made his way around the town. People moved out of his way as he moved, but he could not find her there. If she came all the way back here, why was she still avoiding him?

That is when a thought came into his head. Leaving the designated town, Howard stalked along the sides, and found a house on the outskirts. This house had remained abandoned the entire time he had been coming here for some reason or another. He did not particularly care to remember why it remained empty. There was a shift of fabric that he could hear from the front door. Making his way into the house, Cooper heard the soft sniffles and quiet cries of his woman as he grew closer and closer to the bedroom.

The door was halfway open, which meant he could not have snuck up on her even if he wanted to. And the sight inside made his heart hurt. She was curled up on the bed with blankets and pillows. It looked more like a nest than a bed, but she found herself in the middle of it all.

“Go away.” Her voice was hoarse as it tried to spit out and sound meaner than she actually sounded.

“Now, I think you don’t really want that darlin’.” Cooper replied, placing his hat on the bedpost at the foot of the bed/nest situation.

“You don’t know what I want. Besides, I’m just some stupid vault dweller who follows you around like a lost puppy. Figured you’d be having a damn party with me gone.” Turning further and further away, the scratch to her voice almost made it like a growl. Howard shrugged off his duster and threw the rest of his guns, belts, and bags into a chair in the corner before encroaching upon her space. She tried to push him off, but he kept wrapping his arms around her to pull her into his chest.

“I’m sorry for what I said, darlin’. Didn’t mean what I said.” He pressed a kiss to the back of her head, and squeezed her closer while her arms dropped in defeat.

“I just don’t understand why you would say that if you didn’t mean it.” She lamented.

“Was just angry darlin’. Not at you. Just- we’ve been fightin’ a lot. We never used to and it seems every day we’re findin’ somethin’ to get pissed off about.” He replied, settling into the comfortable bed.

“I know. ‘M sorry for running. Just didn’t know how to deal with it all.” Rolling over, she tucked her face into Cooper’s chest and smushed them closer together.

“No need to apologize sweetheart,” came his response. He pressed another kiss, this time to her forehead, and started to stroke her hair.

“Oughta redden your ass though. Makin’ me chase you all over this damn desert.” Cooper teased, his gloved hand reaching down to give her rear a teasing squeeze.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Ghoul.” She teased back, snuggling in closer. They were not perfect, that was for certain. But from that point forward, they would be doing better.

[onlyangel4]

so high school. DR3.

daniel ricciardo x singer reader

y/n is a singer and her new single has hit the charts by storm. Lets look into moments before and during her relationship with formula one driver Daniel Ricciardo that influenced this new chart topper.

warnings-18+. cursing. drinking. brief mentions of pet loss. suggestive moments (no smut tho). tooth rotting fluff.

authors note- moments in order the lyrics appear in the song, not chronological. this is truly self-indulgent, an idea I have had forever, not requested by anyone. reader is australian but is constantly travelling and has properties in the english countryside and new york which end up being shared with daniel.

smau

i feel so high school every time i look at you

i wanna find you in a crowd just to hide from you

one month knowing daniel

you had met daniel a month ago, he had been at a charity event that you had attended and since then you kept on bumping into one another. and each time you bumped into him you shared flustered words and then found an excuse to leave his side and go and mingle with someone else. it was safe to say you felt chemistry with daniel. he was able to make you smile even when you were attending events on your off days. it had been one of those days.

there was nothing you wanted to do less than attend this premiere but it had already been released to the public that you were going to be in attendance. so you had to attend because otherwise there would be a flurry of disappointed fans, and you hated to think of disappointing the people that were the reason why you did what you did. so you painted on a smile, got into a dress that had been handpicked for you and forced yourself out of your hotel room and into the town car that had been waiting for you.

as soon as you arrived at the event you were reminded why you did not want to attend in the first place. the orchestra of camera shutters and paparazzi calling out for you sounded like a death march. but you were used to this so your false smile stayed on your lips, looking in the direction of whichever person called your name the loudest. this was a role that you knew how to play perfectly.

your eyes faltered from the cameras for a moment and found a certain driver halfway down the red carpet. In that moment you just wanted to run off, you liked daniel but you did not want him to have to deal with the false happy version of you. he deserved the happiest version of you, the one that could match his energy. your eyes flitted, looking for a way to get around him but it was too late the australian was already calling your name. oh the cameras were going to fucking love this.

you made your way over to him that fake smile playing on your lips, “fancy seeing you here stranger”, he spoke walking by your side.

“yeah i was here thinking you had a job that meant you travelled all over the world, however you are always in the same place as me. do i have a new stalker ricciardo?”, you teased softly, the fake smile turning into a real one for a moment before that light left your eyes.

“well if you must know the Silverstone grand prix is this weekend. So I had some free time and who doesn’t like a movie premiere”, he retorted, “i could accuse you of being my stalker, you are always where I am y/n”, he spoke and you rolled your eyes shaking your head slightly.

“i guess you could”, you said and you watched as the usual playful glint in his eyes turned to one of pure concern. you usually had a comeback for everything that he said to you, something that would make him laugh, so your blunt response made the man frown. wordlessly he took your arm leading you away from the paparazzi and into the cinema. it was early on in the premiere so not many people were there just yet and the press were all outside waiting for the arrivals. so you were safe away from prying eyes. he had found a dark corner in the entrance way and he looked down at you, concern still etched across his features.

“what’s wrong y/n?”, he questioned, “and don’t lie to me, i can read people pretty well, there is something up. I know it”, he spoke and you were left bamboozled. how could someone read you so well after only meeting you a maximum of five times.

an exasperated sigh fell from your lips, your eyes avoiding his. “i’m just having a bad day”, you whispered softly, “i had to have my cat, julien, put down at the weekend. this is the last place i wanted to come to but the fans knew i was going to be here so i didn’t want to disappoint them. but i know they will ask about him, that is all people are commenting after some paparazzi pictured me crying outside of the vets”, you spoke softly and you could see the worry on daniel’s face.

“oh y/n,iI saw that picture”, he frowned softly recalling the moment he saw the picture of you crying on twitter. It was a massive invasion of your privacy. daniel pulled you into his arms his arms enveloping you into a tight hug and you relaxed against him. “i am sorry for your loss”, he whispered softly and you just hugged him back.

the rest of the premiere daniel was pretty much glued to your side. usually he would mingle at these things but he did not feel comfortable leaving you especially since there were press interviews after the film. he made sure to be near you while you spoke to interviewers and if they brought up the picture of you outside of the vets he would laugh obnoxiously to divert the attention away from you and make the journalist lose their train of thought.

the one person you had hoped to avoid that night ended up being the one that made it tolerable.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

i'm sinking, our fingers entwined

cheeks pink in the twinkling lights

tell me 'bout the first time you saw me

one year dating daniel

“come on humour me danny”, you teased softly.

You were sat on your boyfriend’s lap hands playing with his loose curls. Two glasses of wine on the coffee table in the centre of your apartment.

“i have told you this story before”, he spoke with a laugh, finding it cute how much you wanted to listen to him.

“yeah but that was before we had been together for a year. come on danny it is our one year anniversary. i think you should treat me. come on tell me about the first time that you saw me.”, you basically begged. If you had been sober you definitely would not be acting this desperate but you were loved up and you just wanted to hear those words leave his lips. it was a story that warmed your heart. Even if you had heard it before.

“well it was at that charity event. i knew who you were, as you know my sister fucking loved you when she was a teenager, i couldn’t go anywhere near her room without hearing your first album”, he spoke and you laughed softly.

“that’s why she is my favourite sibling”, you chimed in.

danny just playfully rolled his eyes ignoring you and continuing with his little story, “and when i saw you i understood why people were so obsessed with you, the way you carried yourself was different than anyone else i had ever met. you were elegant but also down to earth at the same time. I think right there i knew you were going to become a fixture in my life”, he spoke truthfully. you were blushing as you buried your head in his neck, “see that is all i wanted to hear”, you laughed softly,

“so what did you think when you first saw me?”, he asked.

“i thought you were alright”, you spoke and he let out a bellowing laugh.

“ y/n y/ln you will never fail to amuse me” he spoke making you laugh. “i know you saw me and fell straight in love right there”, he spoke and you shook your head with a smirk.

“if that helps you sleep at night”, you teased and daniel just attacked your face with kisses moving so you were now laid on the couch with him hovering above you kissing your face. “well all that matters is right now and how incredibly in love i am with you y/n”, he spoke with a smile.

“and i am so in love with daniel”, you smiled before craning your neck upwards so you could kiss your boyfriend. just relishing alone time like this with him.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

i'm watching american pie with you on a saturday night

your friends are around, so be quiet

i'm trying to stifle my sighs

two months dating daniel

“babe it is just movie night, you can quit pacing”, daniel spoke watching rearrange the cushions and blankets sat out on the sofas in his apartment for the hundredth time in the past hour.

“danny it is not just movie night. i am meeting your friends for the first time it is a big fucking deal. what if they don’t like me or something”, you spoke your mind going at a million miles an hour. you had agreed to attend the weekly movie night that danny had with his friends whenever he was back home for summer break. this week danny was hosting so it felt like the perfect moment for you to meet his friends. you were going to meet six people in total. four of his closest childhood best friends and two of their girlfriends.

“babe they are going to love you. leah and emma have been bugging me about meeting you since the day they found out we were dating. they are big fans of your music and the boys will love you”, he spoke as he moved in front of you blocking you from your constant pacing his arms wrapping around your body caging you in, “you do not need to be worried. i promise”, he whispered softly as he pressed a gentle loving kiss to your lips. you relaxed in his grip, he could always bring you back down to earth and you were so grateful for him.

when the doorbell rang you took a deep breath grounding yourself taking daniel’s hand and walking over to the door with him. when he opened it you were met with two girls and their respective boyfriends behind them. “i am so sorry for this”, the taller of the boys, liam called out and before you could question what he mentioned both girl pounced on you pulling you into a tight hug. making both you and danny laugh out loud. “hiya”, you spoke with a smile. “danny told me you guys were fans i should have expected that”, you spoke with a smile.

the girls pulled you into the kitchen wanting to have ‘girl talk”, you did not seem to have a choice in the matter so you followed them and soon enough the other two guys showed up going into the living room to talk to daniel and the other guys.

“man when you told us that you were with y/n we started a separate group chat just so we could talk about whether you were having some kind of delusions”, liam spoke and danny playfully punched his shoulder.

“she’s real i told you”

“yep mate she is real. i have no idea what she sees in you but she is real.”

you and the girls wandered into the living room, “okay we are ready for movie night, debrief completed”, leah announced to the boys making them laugh. the group had already decided to watch american pie due to a horrified danny informing them that you were yet to see one of his favourite movies.

from his place on the sofa Daniel reached for your hand pulling you down and into his lap as you giggled softly. he grabbed one of the many blankets that were scattered across the sofa and pulled it over your bodies before pressing play on the film. the room was silent other than the sound of the television and laughs at the funniest parts of the movie. danny was watching your face attentively, trying to work out whether you were enjoying the film and from the smile on your lips he could tell that you were.

his lips ghosted across your neck scattering kisses on your skin making you turn to look at him. he then moved his lips to your ear, “eyes on the screen baby”, he gently scolded and you did as you were told, you continued to watch the film trying to not be distracted by the feeling of danny’s lips on your neck and his hands wandering over your body. Yyu just bit your lip, trying to keep your composure. moaning in front of your boyfriend’s friends was not the first impression you wanted to make. so you kept your eyes on the screen for the entirety of the film.

once it was finished you stood up saying goodbye to all of his friends, thanking them for letting you join the tradition of movie night. after you had shut the door behind the last one you turned to your boyfriend, “daniel ricciardo, you are going to be the death of me”

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

are you gonna marry, kiss, or kill me? (kill me)

it's just a game, but really (really)

two years before daniel

you were sat in your dressing room at the tonight show starring jimmy fallon when your best friend, heather, stormed into the room. “y/n you need to see this”, she spoke and you cocked on eyebrow, confused as to what was so important but from the smile on heather’s face you could tell that it was a good thing and that you shouldn’t be worried.

she thrusted her phone into your hands and you met with a paused youtube video of a man who you recognised to be daniel ricciardo, a racing driver that your ex boyfriend had been obsessed with, in an interview setting microphone in his hand. he was kitted out in the full racing suit but the top half was tied around his waist signifying that this was post race. your finger extended to press play.

“so daniel, we all know that you like a little bit of pop culture”, the interviewer spoke and danny laughed.

“i’m well educated what can i say”

“well lets play a game of kiss, marry, kill”

“oh this is going to get me in trouble”, he spoke with a laugh running his hands through his hair, “but go on”

“so… ariana grande, katy perry or y/n y/ln”

a gasp left your lips when you heard your name mentioned, “just keep on watching”, heather encouraged so you looked back down at the phone.

“i wish i could say that is a hard one but it is so easy man”, daniel spoke, “kill katy perry, sorry katy cats, I just don’t know that much about her”, he explained. “kiss ariana grande, because well any guy would say that”, he laughed.

“and may y/n y/ln, number one, because my sister would kill me if i said anything else, she is obsessed with y/n”, he spoke and that made you laugh, “and she just seems like a genuine person and she is incredibly talented, if i could trick her into marrying me i would be a lucky man.”

your mouth was agape when you paused the video and handed heather her phone back, “how fucking cool is that”, heather spoke and you nodded your head.

“that is insane, I was not expecting that”

“not to mention he was sam’s favourite driver. Iibet he is realising what he fumbled when he lost you”, heather spoke and you just laughed shaking your head.

“it is very cool”, was all you could say.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

get my car door, isn't that sweet? (that sweet)

then pull me to the backseat (backseat)

no one's ever had me (had me), not like you

first date with daniel

it was safe to say that danny was fucking buzzing. it was the week after that award show that he stayed stuck to your side like a shadow and the week after the silverstone grand prix. He had gotten the courage to give you call and ask you whether you wanted to go to dinner with him. he had been expecting you to tell him to fuck of but when you said yes he was met with the need to plan the perfect date to sweep you off your feet.

you were also stressing about the date, you were a superstar, brands would die to have you wear their clothes so you had a million dresses lining your closet yet you couldn’t find the right thing. heather had to come over and stage an intervention. “this is not a life or death decision”, she told you, “daniel would die if you wore a paper bag”, she explained and you laughed softly.

“i just haven’t been on a date in a while, i don’t know where to start.”, you spoke and heather pushed past you going into your closet, “good job i know exactly what you need to wear”, she spoke as she knowingly reached for a hanger. pulling out a dress you forgot you own. It was black and floor length with a slight up your leg. it hugged all your curves just right and the neckline and straps were encrusted with silver diamonds. it was perfect.

“see i knew you would know what to do”, you spoke making your friend laugh. you got dressed and as soon as you put it on you knew it was the right thing to wear, your best friend had been right.

you smiled as you looked at yourself in the mirror, “okay perfect, now i better get going, henry will be waiting with the car”, you spoke to heather who nodded.

you made your way outside where you were met with your usual driver. you got into the back seat and he drove you to where you were meeting Daniel, “i will call you if i need you to pick me up henry”, you explained.

“okay dear, well i hope you don’t call because that means it is going well and you deserve this after some of those guys you have been involved with”, he spoke making you smile. henry was a father figure to you, he had been your driver since you first needed one seven years ago. he had been there through awful relationships and bad break ups. he had seen you at your worst and he only ever wanted you to be happy.

henry pulled up to the restaurant and before you could open your door it was opened for you. daniel had been waiting outside looking for your car and when you had pulled up he had come running over to be a gentleman and he had opened the door for you. it was a simple action but had been a massive green flag for you. he took your arm in his and brought you inside.

the night had been a great success, it was spent laughing and looking at one another longingly, it felt right for both of you and it was safe to say that you didn’t call henry. daniel ended up taking you back to his.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

truth, dare, spin bottles

you know how to ball, i know aristotle

first christmas break dating daniel

spending the Christmas break with your boyfriend was an absolute no brainer, you ad just finished a world tour so some much needed time off was exactly what you required. spending time with his friends with you by his side was something that he had very much looking forward to. this was what had led to you being sat on the grass adjacent to a basketball court. daniel was playing basketball with a group of his childhood friends.

you had both leah and emma either side of you, just catching up while the boys played ball. you had found good friends in both of the girls, yes they had been a little starstruck when they first met you but now they were totally chill, just seeing you as another friend something that you were very grateful for.

your focus was on emma as she spoke about the holiday she had been on with her boyfriend when the boys came running up to you, “we have decided that you ladies are slacking”, Daniel joked the playful look in his eyes telling you that he had something planned. and wordlessly he swooped you up into his arms running over to the basketball court with you.

“you know i am shit at sports danny”, you whined when he set your feet on the ground.

“well you will be shit if you don’t try”, he teased and you scoffed rolling your eyes at your boyfriend.

the boys started the game again this time with you, leah and emma on the court. you were not the best at the sport just running away from the ball so that you did not have any responsibility. yet you still somehow ended up with the ball in your hands.

“come on babe you got this”, danny cheered from the other side of the court. shit you were next to the hoop, time to embarrass yourself in front of your boyfriend’s friends. brilliant. you did a small run up before shooting, closing your eyes not wanting to see your horrid effort of a shot, but instead the others started cheering for you.

“i scored”, you spoke in disbelief

“you scored baby”, daniel cheered running up to you pulling you in for a kiss, “i fucking love you y/n”, he smiled

“i love you too Daniel”

and that is the story of how you and Daniel told each other that you were in love for the first time.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

i feel like laughing in the middle of practice

do that impression you did of your dad again

i'm hearing voices like a madman

two years dating daniel

this was a one night only show in paris. it was a very special show that fans from all over the world had been fighting to get tickets for. You had been very excited for it. daniel had been at a race the day before, so with his flight timing you weren’t sure whether he was going to be able to make it. you didn’t mind you had an equally as busy schedule, so you understood him not always being able to make the countless events that structured your life.

you had been in your dressing room just fixing your make up making sure that everything was perfect for the show. your manager had knocked on the door letting you know that the stage was ready for you. you thanked her before heading out of the dressing room and soon enough you were on the stage performing your first song, cruel summer. you were halfway through the song interacting with the fans in the front row when you heard a loud cheer from the balcony. your eyes drifted upwards and there he was clear as day, daniel had made it to your show. your smile widened as you continued to sing sneaking glances over at him. in between songs you would look at him and he would be sticking his tongue out or doing heart symbols with his hands making you laugh softly before you focused back onto the songs you were singing. the crowd fucking loved it and twitter was going mad seeing footage of you and daniel being so in love.

when you were singing your last song you had glanced at the seat daniel had been sitting on only to see it empty. you didn’t think too hard about it, he was probably grabbing another beer or something. You stayed on the stage for a few minutes listening to the crowd scream for you as you did your final bow before running off the side of the stage.

“you are fucking brilliant”,aDaniel called out and you ran right into his arms, clinging onto him like a koala.

“why didn’t you tell me you could make it”, you whispered into his ear just holding onto him as if he could vanish into thin air at any given moment.

“i wanted to surprise you love”, he spoke pressing a kiss to your lips, “and I am so glad I did the look on your face was priceless”, he spoke just holding you tight. god you were so in love with him.

∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•················•∘

'cause i feel so high school (i feel so high school)

every time i look at you

but look at you

three years dating daniel (present day)

“i’m home”, you called out into your shared new york townhouse.

“kitchen”, danny responded and you smiled making your way to the kitchen.

“danny how many times have I told you kyla can not be on the worktops”, you spoke picking up your white fluffy cat and placing her back down on the floor.

“i can’t help it, it is the eyes she gives me. she melts my heart”, he spoke making you laugh.

“you big softie”, you rolled your eyes.

“how was your day, did you get that track finished?”

you nodded, “i did, it is all done and ready for the album. i was thinking you could give it a listen”, you spoke. usually you made danny wait until the release of the album to hear the tracks just to give him the full album release experience.

“is this track different from the others, because you told me you would kill me if you caught me listening to them”, he spoke.

“well this one is about you and it is a little more personal than the others, it is about our memories”, you explained and he looked at you a big wide goofy smile on his lips.

“oh wow y/n”, he smiled his arms wrapping around your middle, “of course i will listen to it”

you decided you could not be in the room when he listened to it, that would be too much pressure. you wanted him to listen to it without having your desperate eyes on him trying to pull apart what he was thinking. so you texted him the track before retreating to the master bedroom, leaving him to listen to the song in the kitchen.

the song was only three minutes long, so why the hell had it been fifteen minutes and you had not heard from danny. you were beginning to get a little worried when the door swung open and danny looked at you with the biggest toothy grin. “i had to listen to it three times y/n, i could listen to that song forever”, he spoke as he leaped onto the bed joining you and pulling you into his chest. “it is so fucking perfect, i remember all the moments referenced in it.”, he smiled and you looked at him so happy that he liked it.

“i know you said you weren’t going to. but you need to play that at our wedding”, he spoke hand going to the ring he had put on your finger two months prior.

“i’ll think about it”

[piratefishmama]

Finders Givers | Part 2

“STEVEN MARION HARRINGTON.”

“Not my middle name.” Although Robin had made several valiant attempts in guessing it every time she needed to burst into his office all guns blazing. Which was unfortunately… often. She still hadn’t managed to crack it.

He didn’t actually have a middle name. He wasn’t going to tell her that though, this was funnier.

She slapped a sheaf of papers down onto his desk, a brief flick of the first page told him they were call logs and transcripts “What did you DO?! Claudia’s been getting calls all morning asking about renovations?”

“Okay, so, in my defence. It was Nancy’s idea.” That was his whole defence. It was Nancy’s idea. His idea had been worse.

“Explain.”

“You know, most people in my position don’t have to explain themselves to people who work for them, their people just respect them, and do as they say without argument.” He mused, mostly to himself, but he could see the woman’s eye twitch in annoyance and so he sighed in defeat, it’d only wind up with him having those papers whapped around his head. “Remember the wallet I found?”

“The one that was bumming you out?”

“Yeah! Well, when I went out for a walk, I found the guys work address and—”

“You know we have guys who do that sort of shit for us, right? You can’t be stalking people, Dingus, what the fuck?” That sheaf of papers was dangerously close to hitting him. She’d picked them back up an everything.

“Just listen! He was at work, I didn’t talk to him or anything I’m not stupid, but... his manager made this girl cry so he just decked him, laid him out, one punch an he was down, then he just quit his job, right there, shit was spectacular.” Steve could appreciate a good bit of muscle, could appreciate a scrapper. Plus the guy was hot so, that helped. “Doesn’t look like his photo either, he’s got so much hair, Robs, it’s... wow, he’s just—”

“Ew, I don’t wanna hear about your crush on some random guy, what’s this got to do with these renovations Claudia’s being spammed over?”

“Okay so, guy lost his job.”

“Quit, quit his job.”

“Defending a ladies honour, something I thought you’d appreciate.” She raised a single unimpressed brow “but, I... I was gonna just send him rent money for a few months, y’know, cover a few bills, charity!” His heart was in the right place, his head however, his head was in space.

“That’s not charity that’s stupidity, but go on.”

“That’s what Nance said! Apparently it’d be suspicious if I were to be found sending large amounts of cash in nondescript envelopes to an apartment block notorious for drug activity, so she suggested that since I’m already buying that bar nearby, it’d look less conspicuous if I just... bought the building the guy lives in and claim I was developing it, make it seem like I have an interest in building up local problem areas.” She frowned, silent in her thoughts as she processed.

“... And what about the rent forgiveness?”

“I was gonna pay for his rent, might as well just not have him pay rent, y’know? An it’s gotta be building wide or there’ll be questions, like why is he so special, it’d put him under scrutiny. So Nance suggested putting a stop on rent as we ‘renovate’ as a sort of, we’re disrupting your life so here’s a break for you kinda deal.” Honestly Nancy really was a life saver, he really ought to give her a raise, he’d have been fucked over years ago had he not pulled her into the fold.

“So that means we’re actually going to have to renovate this block then?”

“I mean—”

“Were going to have to renovate this block, Steve. We can’t just forgive the rent forever, that’s bonkers, that would raise eyebrows, and we can’t afford eyebrows being raised at us right now. So you’re going to have to have professionals go in and survey the apartments inside for renovations.” This was now an actual thing he’d have to do.

“Ah well, gives me something to occupy my time with. Also I was thinking—”

“Never a good sign”

“Shut up, I was thinking of putting Argyle in there as a plant, like... the drugs being peddled out of that block are just trash, at least we could get a solid dealer in there and get Argyle out of the Wheelers basement.” He’d only been staying there because Joyce didn’t have a basement and Jonathan didn’t have room for him.

He was Jonathan's friend, and Jonathan came with Nancy, Steve didn’t have any reason to help him out. Now he did! And that reason was getting those poor people better weed.

“Are you not worried that the existing dealers will start shit with him for moving into their turf?”

“They touch him they deal with Hargrove, he's been particularly irritable lately, anything could set him off, pretty sure he’d be jazzed to break a few legs.” Release some of that pent up rage he seemed so good at bottling up in tiny easily burstable bottles. “One visit from that nut job and they’ll settle right down.”

He didn’t like Hargrove, but he had to admit the guy was a useful enforcer. Indebted to Steve too after Jane had taken a nail imbedded baseball bat to his old employers head in a bid to help her friend Max escape the debt her stepdad had racked up with him. Billy had also been freed, being Max’s step brother, left unmoored and in danger of a jail cell.

Steve had taken them both in after getting rid of Creels corpse. It was Hopper’s idea. Billy wouldn’t have survived in jail, too many enemies in there.

“It only takes one hit to hurt Argyle beyond repair though, maybe get rid of the dealers in there already, then give Argyle one of the apartments.”

“See you’re already on board!” And there was the whack round the head with the papers, his sharp objection going ignored.

“Fine, I’m on board, but only because it’s Nancy’s idea.” She was retreating as she spoke “Yours was a trash fire, like, not just one of those little oil barrel fires I mean like a whole dumpster fire. Argyle stays out until it’s safe though, I mean it Steve, I will get Hopper involved.” She opened the door, ready to go.

“You can’t threaten me with my own Chief of Police! That’s so mean!”

“Watch me, dingus. Also you have two people downstairs from your little block purchase wanting more information, do you wanna deal with them or should I?”

“Do you think I could actually spin a good idea to explain this that won’t get immediately reworked by either you or Nance?” She paused, a thoughtful expression on her face that answered his question more than any actual answer would have. “Exactly, you deal with it, you’re better at timelines an stuff anyway.” He was more the big idea guy.

“Yeah but you’re better at people.” It was true, Steve was more the people person out of the two of them. “Fine, I’ll deal with it, and I’ll ask Nance to find some decent contractors to do the work for us. Maybe… drop into my office in like, ten minutes? Considering you let your dick lead you to places I wouldn’t even go with a gun, you should at least make an appearance for these people whose lives you’ve interrupted.”

“Ngghhh fine. Fine. I’ll be there in ten.” And she was out with a tiny salute as her goodbye.  

Part 4

[literaila]

Ur writing is great and all but can you write something where Peter is nicer?! I'm over here squirming like a donkey with a carrot dangled in its face and idk I wanna see Peter squirm for once

Ps. I literally inhaled all of ur blurbs in one sitting

dress

tasm!peter x fem!reader

a/n: actually i am physically incapable of making either one of them nice. it’s a character flaw

*

“peter,” you call, slipping some elaborate strap through shoes you know you’re going to regret later, but are far too good, too hot for now. “are you almost ready?”

last you heard, he’d been putting on his socks and just needed to grab his tie—which he had conviently forgot about.

but knowing peter, you’re not so sure.

you hear a grunt from the other room which means absolutely nothing, and, of course, everything.

“babe,” you whine, standing up to admire your leg for a moment, and then walking into the bedroom, click-clacking on your way. “we’re already fifteen minutes late.”

peter is standing in front of the mirror messing with his hair while his tie hangs loose from his neck. “ j’st one sec,” he mumbles, flipping his mop of a head to the other side like it’s going to fix anything.

“you know you’re supposed to tie that, right?”

“it’s in the name,” peter answers, rolling his eyes before they meet yours in the mirror, and widen every so slightly. “ouch,” he says, turning around you look at you.

“what?”

“that’s what you’re wearing?”

you look down to your dress; you’d been saving it for some special occasion, been waiting at least a year to pull it out from the back of the closet. it’s long and elegant, shows off just the right amount of skin, and is in peters favorite color (not that it matters).

you frown. “yes? is there something wrong with it?”

peter turns around again, clearing his throat. his hands reach for the ends of his tie, but he doesn’t do anything more. his eyes are on yours through the mirror. “nothing,” he says, while watching you.

but his voice is off and he’s still frozen, like he can’t move until you look away.

but you’re not going to back down first, obviously. he doesn’t get the win.

“no,” you say, walking to place a hand on the side of his waist. “what’s up?” you ask, leaning up so your whispering in his ear.

“it’s pretty.”

“then why do you look like i’ve just stolen your baby or something?”

peter shakes his head, and finally, he looks away. his hair gets more messy with every movement he makes. “i’m just nervous.”

“you’re nervous about a charity event that you volunteered both of us to go to?”

“i think the mayor might be there…” he mumbles, messing with the cuffs on his sleeves.

(it’s only slightly distracting)

you snort. “you literally asked the mayor for a fist bump on the news the other day.”

“hey,” peter says, tilting his chin up, “i didn’t do anything.”

“whatever, peter. what’s really going on?”

“i already told you.”

he’s messing with his tie again, but his hands are shaking a bit. and even though he’s pretending to wrap two ends around eachother, he’s not really doing anything at all. just mindlessly fidgeting.

you look at his face, brows furrowed. there’s a hint of pink on his cheeks, and when his eyes meet yours for just a split second, he’s flashing them away like he’s afraid that you’ll catch him.

you blink, frowning, and then you get it.

you smile at him, a bit cruelly.

“you’re nervous, huh?” you say, moving even closer to him. a hand falls on his shoulder, and the other plays with a loose strand of his hair. “this is a big event.”

“uh-huh.”

“i completely understand. who knows what might happen,” you whisper, faux pity in your voice. you turn so you’re facing him, pulling him towards you from the two ends of his tie. peter follows almost limp. “here,” you say, smiling at him, “let me help.”

you wrap the ends into a knot, not looking away from peters eyes for even one moment. you don’t think he’ll mind if his tie turns into a bow.

“you look really nice,” you tell him, whispering even though he’s the only one that can hear you. “i knew you’d look good in a suit.”

peter swallows. “you’ve seen me in one before.”

“mmm, this is different. i’ve never seen you put one on before.” a finger trails up his jaw, and you tilt your head at him.

“oh.”

you giggle, and finally look away, tightening the tie up to his neck. when it’s done you look up at him, pressing a soft kiss to the tip of his chin. “there. good?”

peter clears his throat again and turns from your hands to look in the mirror. he straightens the tie, though clenches his fist before he can do it. he nods at you. “thanks.”

“anytime,” you tell him, moving away. you look in the mirror, playing with your hair. “do i look alright?”

peters head snaps towards you. “of course. you look great.”

“really? cause i wasn’t so sure about this dress…” you look down at it, a false pout on your lips.

“it’s beautiful.”

“are you sure, peter? because you kind of froze when i walked in, so… if there’s something wrong with it—“

“no,” peter interrupts. he spins you so your facing him. “it looks great. you look great.”

you sigh, and pull away the tiniest bit. “i guess i could still change, but we might be even later.”

“you don’t need to change,” peter says. his cheeks are even rosier now, and his eyes seem almost pained. but he doesn’t look away from your face.

“you cant even look at me, peter. you don’t need to lie.”

there’s a pause where you’re looking at peter—and even though your face is serious, your eyes are deadly. you want to watch him break. he’s looking back at you, eyes faltering, mouth opening and closing like he’s not quite sure what to say.

and then he shakes his head, sighing. “i cant look at you,” he admits, voice a bit harsh but quiet.

you tilt your head, “why not?”

“we’re already late.”

“what do you mean?”

peter hangs his head for a moment, laughing at the floor. then he looks back at you, and pulls you in by your waist. “if you want to leave any time tonight, then we can’t stand here any longer. i’m already going crazy.”

“why? are you okay?”

he scoffs at you. “c’mon, don’t tease.”

“i would never, peter.”

he rolls his eyes. “i know what you’re doing,” he whispers, leaving a peck on your nose. “and so do you.”

“i’m not doing—“

but he kisses you, rough like he’s been waiting to do it for years on end. his mouth his hot and his hands are desperate as they cling to your waist, your neck, keeping you from moving even a centimeter away from him.

you cant breathe when he kisses you like this, but it’s not completely necessary. you kiss him back with just as much fever, your fingers wrapping into his hair.

when he pulls away, he’s breathless and his eyes are dark. “we really have to go,” he says, voice raw.

you smile up at him, feeling just as breathless. “so you like the dress?”

*

[simpcityy]

My Little Spawn Pt.2 (Dadstarion X Child!Reader)

Summary: Astarion was finally free from Cazador after being kidnapped by a mindflayer but he was stuck with one annoying task, you.

Disclaimer: I do not own Baldur's Gate 3 or any of its characters.

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Use of (Y/N), Cazador, language, violence, spoilers for those who haven't gone far in the game....Uhhh...I think that is all.

You sat by the river bank, looking at the fishes as everyone was once again getting ready to go back on the road. Hearing footsteps you look seeing Astarion crotch near you. “Here, drink up before anyone sees us.” He hands you a small goblet with blood.  You grab onto the silver cup and drink it all in one gulp. Astarion looks around making sure no one was watching as he wipes your mouth with his sleeve “There now we are both less cranky.” He smirks, washing the cup right away. “I feel much better now” You look at him savoring the taste of the bitter blood. “Now I promise I won’t run off!” You grin showing your sharp fangs. “Easy on the smile now, I can see your little pathetic fangs.” He boops your nose before walking back to his tent. Walking around the camp you collected some flowers near the riverbank before looking around seeing everyone has left besides Karlach. “Hey! Where did everyone else go?” You pouted walking to her. The tall woman smiles looking down at you, “It’s just the both of us, little soldier. We think it’s best if one of us stays at the camp with you. It’s dangerous out there.” She chuckles seeing you cross your arms. “But we can take this opportunity to get to know each other.” She sits down on the ground. “Hmmm…”You look at her, was she part of the game as well? You did promise Astarion you would win this game for them. “Okay!” Sitting down next to her, you look up at her “Tell me about you! I wanna know why you have a broken horn” You pointed. “That will be a tough one…let me see if I can give you the kid friendly version.” 

“Why in the hell did you accept this charity work when our goal is to get this thing out of our heads?!” Astarion frowns after Tav was done talking to Zevlor. “Hey, Halsin can be our ticket to healing us after seeing what Nettie was going to make us do. We need to rescue him.” Tav looks at Astarion, “You are welcome to switch places with Karlach and look after (Y/N)” They crossed their arms. Astarion stops whining, “ On second thought I rather do this than babysit a child.” He mutters. “You know, you two seem to know each other.” Gale began to poke. Astarion rolls his eyes “Stay out of my business will you wizard? The child must have seen me somewhere in Baldur’s Gate and felt much safer with a familiar face. “ The elf shrugs and walks around the grove seeing what he can take. Shadowheart walks around as well. “It’s going to be harder to travel with a child, the dangers we will face.” She comments “We can’t leave them either since they also have the tadpole. Poor child” She hissed something glows on her hand hurting her. Astarion ignores her, thinking back how your life is. It’s already over since Cazador made you a spawn. “Yeah…poor kid” He mutters and walks further into the Grove. 

You lay on the ground in Astarions tent, after hearing Karlachs story, you look at the sky admiring it. You wonder why didn’t papa let you step outside the big palace. He would always warn you to stay away from the windows and never step foot out of the palace. The sky was beautiful, you want to keep admiring it after you go back home. Maybe if you convince him, he’ll let you at least see it outside of the window. “Papa…Mama…” You whisper thinking back to them. Rubbing your eyes, you were met with Astarion looking down at you. “Aww did you miss me little creature?” He smirks laying down next to you. “I miss papa” Sitting up you play with his hair. “Of course papa…hmm (Y/N) what did you mean about mad like papa?” He leans on his side looking at you. You look down “I remember papa getting mad at mama…” You whisper the memory fresh in your mind. “Mama…and do you know what Cazador was mad at?” He once again began to play with your hair, a habit he’s been getting. “I couldn’t hear…they were talking very lowly but I saw papa grab mama’s neck and then he took a bite on it. I wanted to check on mama but papa said she was going to sleep and took me home with him in the big castle.” You retold the story. Astarion only watches you retold it, he hums thinking. Must have killed her in front of her and took in the child before turning them into a spawn. “ I see, I bet you miss your mother.” He looked at the sky as it was setting down. “I do but papa says she was a terrible mother…I don’t know why but I don’t want papa to get mad at me?” You play with the dirt only for Astarion to stop you. “Careful you’ll get dirty.” He sighs before looking at you. “How are you? Blood wise little spawn.” He dugs into his bag to pull out another small vial of blood. “Gimmie!” You try to reach for it only for him to pull back. “Drink a little, this should last you till the morning.” He gently tips the vial on your mouth giving half. 

The next day, Astarion sighs sitting on the ground watching you chase a butterfly as he was replaced, Karlach taking his spot. You giggle chasing the small insect. “Astarion! When will I be able to see papa?” You walk over to the pale elf. “I don’t know.” He groans “This the 5th time you’ve asked me, don’t ask me again, got it?” He fixes your shirt before seeing a hole. “Where did you get this from?” He tuts. You look down shrugging. “Children I swear.” He mutters “ I’ll patch it up tonight.” He looks at his small kit. You grinned, “Thank you!” You wrapped your little arms around his neck. He tense up, before slowly rubbing your back, “Yeah yeah, now go back to chasing this pointless butterfly.” He gently shoves you away as you run off to chase the poor butterfly. How can a little spawn like yourself make him feel different?

   Night came rolling, You were asleep on your side of the tent. Astarion looks around and sees everyone asleep. He slowly got up and walked over to the Tav leaning in before seeing them awake. “Shit…” He mutters and backs up. (The rest is history for us Astarion Fans)

You woke up to the sound of chatter. Sitting up, you noticed everyone around Astarion. Getting up, your little legs walk over clinging on to his pant leg. “ And is (Y/N) a vampire Spawn as well?” Tav looks down at you. Astarion sighs “Yes, Cazador, my old master also made them into a spawn.” He looks down at you. Hearing the name Cazador, you grin “He’s my papa!” You bounce happily. “But she’s so young” Gale looks down at you, “Will she be needing blood as well? Right away, We don’t bite out of nowhere okay?”

Astarion frowns seeing Gale already showing you manners on being a spawn. “Yeah yeah, we bite before asking, don’t we (Y/N)?” He pulls you closer to him and away from Gale. You only nodded still clinging on to his pants. “ Has she taken blood yet?” Karlach looks over to you smiling “For a little spawn they are rather adorable.” She chuckles as you get distracted chasing once again a butterfly. “Why don’t they have red eyes? Where did Cazador bite them?” Astarion goes to speak but stops as they were right. “I…I don’t know…” He looks at you before walking over  “ Come here.” He gently stops you and looks at your (E/C) eyes before looking down at your neck seeing nothing. “(Y/N) I need you to tell me the truth, where did he bite?” He looks at you sternly. You only tilt your head “Bite…he only bit mama…” Upon hearing you, his eyes widened and stood up, backing a bit. “What is it?” Tav walks over. “They are a Daywalker. Dhampire’s….You…they…Cazador…” He whispers trying to make this all sense. “When has Cazador been…involved with a human…” He whispers looking at you. “Especially to have you…” He looks down at you as you stare back at him, only one thing crossing across his mind. 

What did he get himself into

~~~~~~~~~~

Important Author's Note: Thank you so much, it seems all of you are loving this, please do be patient. This story will start off slow but all the action and more secrets will be out in the upcoming chapters. I also have another idea, what about a fic where Astarion was married to the reader before he was killed and now that 200 years have passed he sees her again. Would you guys like that? I have another Astarion Fic as well in my blog called Hunted Past so please do check that out. Thank you everyone! Stay safe and stay hydrated!

-Axie

[fandomnerd9602]

New Friends

Bambi!Wanda x Reader

Life was slowly adjusting for you, your lovey doe-human mate Wanda and of course the twins Billy and Tommy.

Your wolf pal Natasha had noticed how the boys were only playing with each other. Which was all fine and dandy for brothers but they needed socializing too. They needed friends their own age too.

The boys weren’t old enough for kindergarten yet so they spent each day with you and Wanda at the Sanctuary. They spent it with either you and Wanda or with aunt Natasha and uncle Pietro. And they wasn’t any hybrids around the boys’ age. Moreover the other hybrids were more amazed that there even were hybrid children.

You and Wanda could tell that the boys were starting to feel it too. There was a certain level of loneliness that the two felt and as their parents, you and Wanda could feel it too.

That all changed when one day, an old friend of yours pulled up to the Sanctuary. A hybrid Doctor by the name of Stephen Strange.

“(Y/N), Wanda,” he gently motioned for you and your mate to join him at his car. “This hybrid came to my office, she had nowhere to go and she couldn’t find the Sanctuary.”

He opened his passenger door and there sitting curled up in a tight ball was a young wolf hybrid girl around three or four. She was scared, her eyes red from crying.

“Oh,” Wanda’s heart went out to the little hybrid, she knelt down to meet the wolfling at eye level. “Hi there. I’m Wanda. And this is my mate, (Y/N)”

“Hey there kiddo,” you gave the little hybrid a smile as you joined Wanda in kneeling before the little girl. Her tail unfurled a little, your presence was calming to her.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?” Wanda asked.

The little wolfling spoke up, uncertain, “America. America Chavez”

“Welcome to the Sanctuary” you whispered, “would you like a tour?”

America nodded softly. She unbuckled her seatbelt and got out, giving Strange a quick hug before joining you and Wanda.

Wanda’s motherly instincts kicked in as she took the young wolf into her arms, carrying her as you and your mate showed America around the sanctuary.

The young wolfling relaxed, her ears perked up and her tail began swishing as you showed her around. She was beginning to feel safe and relaxed in your mate’s arms.

And then the boys came running down the hallways. They could only see your backs.

“Momma! Poppa!” The boys yelled out as they charged down the halls towards you.

You quickly intercepted your boys and gestured for them to lower their voices. They quickly obeyed as Wanda turned around and showed America to the boys.

Billy and Tommy’s whole demeanor changed, they became more gentle and docile.

“Hi there” Billy smiled at America. “I’m Billy and that’s my brother Tommy.”

“Howdy!” Tommy answered with a smile. America offered them a shy little wave.

Billy walked up and handed his stuffie to her, “this is Lizard Wizard. He helped me when I first arrived.”

America gently took the stuffie and held it to her chest.

“Wanna come play with us?” Tommy asked excitedly.

America tenderly looked to Wanda and you. “C-can I?”

Wanda smiled and set the little wolf cub down. The next thing you knew that little girl was off, chasing after Billy and Tommy as they ran towards the courtyard.

Wanda breathed a sigh of relief as she hugged you tight. It appeared like the boys finally had a friend like them.

You and Wanda went back to work. Wanda went about helping to counsel the other hybrids as you went back to filing the paperwork and setting up the charities.

As the day turned to evening, the boys and little America came running over to you and Wanda.

“Momma? Poppa?” The boys inquired, “can America stay the night with us?”

Wanda gave it some thought, putting on a rather funny little face, earning a giggle from the three hybrid kids, “oh alright”

America giggles before jumping into Wanda’s arms. You picked up Tommy as Billy jumped onto your back.

Natasha watched the whole thing from a distance, smiling as she joined Pietro in her den for the evening.

“What do you feel about adopting, Piet?” The reddish wolf asked her boyfriend.

“Adopting what?” He asked inquisitively. He really didn’t know what she was talking about.

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