#my head hurts from excitement i need to get a GRIP

[todayisafridaynight]

i didnt just cry from how gorgeous ichi looks in this you did

[mahgyu]

Nanami smut + suggestive audio

• minors do not interact! 

──── Nanami, determined to make your first time memorable, dedicates himself to providing your with as much pleasure as possible, even taking care of the foreplay.

Lying side by side, your moisture glistens over your intimacy, with your head resting on Nanami's outstretched arm, one leg resting on his waist, keeping you open and vulnerable. Nanami's skilled fingers play incessantly with your clitoris.

"Kento... Please, I need more" you plead, lifting your hips in search of more contact with Nanami's rough fingers.

"Shh, you need to be well-prepared to receive me. I don't want to hurt your beautiful virgin pussy."

"Ugh, Kento, but I'm already ready" you grumble petulantly, with an annoyed expression that elicits a persuasive smile from Nanami.

"Oh, are you really?" Before you can respond, Nanami inserts two of his slender fingers into your untouched interior. He can barely move them due to the way you squeeze them; your eyes roll back in surprise and you moan sharply. Nanami feels the moisture in his boxer increase; if he weren't so skilled at controlling himself, he would have come just from the way he's touching you.

"You see? Your little pussy can barely handle my fingers, and you already want my cock? Don't be so eager, sweetie" Nanami intimidates you, chuckling softly as he sees you shrink back and then kissing your cheek.

He keeps his fingers moving slowly inside you, exploring your soft and tight walls. His thumb continues to stimulate your clit, applying enough pressure to make you see stars.

Your stomach knots tighten; you grip the sheet with one hand and squeeze Nanami's bicep with the other. Your doe-like eyes meet Nanami's cloudy gaze, both full of desire and excitement. He almost growls at the sight of you so surrendered to him.

"Yeah, good girl. Don't worry, the more aroused you get, the better you'll feel good. I promise, after you cum on my fingers, I'll fill you up completely. That's what you want, isn't it?" Nanami whispers near your ear, watching you nod frantically in agreement as you surrender to pleasure. He plants kisses along your jawline, moving up to your cheek and heading towards your mouth, where they start a slow and furtive kiss, savoring every second, every millisecond.

⠀

(Reposting)

I hope you're wearing headphones 🤭 Your interaction is very important to me, reblogs and comments are always welcome 🫶🏻💕

[lymtw]

Aftercare with Toji, where after all the roughness and manhandling is over with, he can't take his eyes off of you. All he cares about is making sure that you're not in excruciating pain, yet he hasn't been able to say a word for the past five minutes. You've pressed so many tender kisses to his face and expressed that you're okay enough times to him, but he can't seem to drop the smallest, lingering coil of guilt he feels at the sight of your scuffed up body. You look like you fought off a bear and ripped octopus tentacles off your skin—simultaneously, with all the scratches, bruises, and hickeys that littered you from your jaw to your ankles.

"Quit staring," you say, bringing your knees up and crossing your arms, your hands gripping your biceps.

"Nah- baby..." he finally says, softly, like he's quickly trying to justify the gaze he had set on you. "Come here."

Toji makes quick work of crushing this wave of insecurity that threatens your peace. He knows what you just endured was not the softest experience, and that you practically let him—a man capable of showing the aggression of a pack of wolves, devour you. Really, he did not hold back at all.

You slide down the bed and pull the covers over your body, laying your head on his chest with an arm thrown over his midsection. He pulls you close with an arm wrapped around your shoulder, and kisses the top of your head. "You know I love you, right, mama?"

"Mhm," you hum. Minutes ago you would have thought those words were a cruel joke being played on you with the way he gripped onto you like he wanted it to hurt.

"Wasn't trying to hurt your feelings by staring at you like that. Just did a lot of damage, this time, and it looks like it hurts... a lot."

"I'm fine," you repeat, for the nth time. You look up at him, briefly, sparing a smile before resting your cheek on his chest again. "A hot shower will melt it all away, I promise," you mumble.

He brushes over one of the many stains he left on the side of your neck. "My little trooper," he sighs, very much relaxed by your side. "You know i'd be proud even if you told me you were hurting." He knows it'll take more than a shower to get all these new semipermanent tattoos off your pretty skin, but for the sake of not making you feel small, again, he shuts up about it.

"I know," you assure. "I just don't wanna burden you. You're probably just as tired, if not more."

"What do you need?"

You lift your head again and look at him, confusion filling out your features. "You heard me, didn't you? I can take care of myself."

"I know that, and I don't doubt it for a second, but you're really gonna reject me?" He hisses, dramatically clutching his chest. "Damn, mama, just like that?"

"Well, no. Of course not-"

"Right. Of course not," he says, with that horrible tendency he has of cutting you off when the situation benefits you. "Gonna ask you one more time, and if you don't answer, i'm just gonna do what I want for you. What do you need?"

You had to think about it for a minute, about how you wanted him to help you. Independence shone through your thoughts. Everything he could help you with, you could also do alone. You didn't want to be needy.

"Five..." He's timing you, now. "Four..." The countdown has your brain scrambling to pick something. Anything, but you're blanking, losing second by second the already little time you were gifted. "Three... it shouldn't be this hard," he teases, a smirk on his face.

"I don't know, um."

"Two... you're gonna lose the option of telling me what to do, doll."

"No- I don't know."

"One." The countdown ends. "Alright," he groans, pulling you up with him as he sits up. "Let's go."

–

Sure enough, once the lukewarm water hit your skin, you gained a burst of energy. You made the washing of your body an amusing, yet tedious task for Toji. With all your little excitement fueled dances and laughter, what should have been a ten minute session turned into a twenty minute one.

"Doll, turn around. Let me get your back," Toji says, holding back a grin at the sight of you trying to soothe the burning sensation you feel in your nose after inhaling water.

You turn your back to him, before jovially turning to face him again. "Joking, joking," you say, when you catch his lidded eyes. You quickly turn your back to him, again, with giggles slipping past your lips.

He sighs, unable to hold back the gentle curl of his lips any longer. "What am I gonna do with you?" He lathers you from the nape of your neck to your lower back, with soap. The contrast of the white foam and the darkened stains on your skin, were enough to have him thinking about what ended just a little over half an hour ago. There wasn't a spot on you that didn't have some mark of his on it. Your shoulder blades and spine were mottled with stains of his lips, and your hips had opaque fingerprints on them.

You winced and took a step forward, away from Toji's touch, successfully pulling him out of his zoned out state. "You're scrubbing the scratches too hard," you say, turning to him while running your hands over the tender skin.

"Shit," he gently pulls you back and turns your back to him again, "sorry, princess." A few soothing kisses are pressed into the strikes, enough of them to make you forget that it even stung in the first place. He makes sure his mind stays out of the gutter, at least until he's done washing you, so that he doesn't hurt you again.

After showering, you stayed in bed while Toji went to the kitchen to make some tea for you. He did this for you after every night of intimacy, to expedite the betterment of your exhausted throat. He also knows of the calming properties that ease you into slumber. He wants nothing more than for you to sleep off the soreness your body retains.

"There you go, baby. I know you don't like it, but it'll make your throat feel better, so you have to drink the whole thing." He settles down next to you, on his side of the bed and watches you sip on the steaming hot drink.

The familiar scrunch of your nose appears at the taste that hits your taste buds, a sight that Toji has started looking forward to. "I hate the flavor just a little more every time I drink it. Oh well," you say, taking another sip, ignoring the scalding heat that embraces your tongue.

"I know. It sucks," he says, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Hopefully, next time we choose correctly and get something you'll like."

You set the mug down on the nightstand and turn to him. With warm hands, you cup his cheeks and tilt his head up slightly.

"What?" He asks, his eyes directed towards you.

Your smile evolves into a short giggle as you stare at one pinpointed spot on the side of his neck. "I got you, too. Right..." you drag a finger down his neck, gently pressing on the dark spot you left on him. "...here."

His hand tracks your touch and replaces it with his own, feeling the mark. "Damn right, you did. You got me, baby," he says through a grin. "My turn?"

You sigh, with faux irritation. "Fiiine."

"Let's see..." He cups your cheeks the way you did his. "I got this whole area here." His thumb brushes over your jawline, dragging beneath it to where the marks end. "Then there's this entire patch right here." He turns your head, exposing the reddish-purple splotches on the side of your neck to the light. His eyes trace the slope that leads to your shoulder, spotting the marks that remain visible beneath the collar of your shirt. He coordinates his touch with his sight, dragging his fingers over your delicate skin. "Right here," he says, after pulling the collar of your shirt down your shoulder, revealing more of his marks.

"Okay, okay. You win," you say fixing your shirt, covering up again.

"There's one right there," he continues, tapping the column of your neck. "Some more there," his finger glides over your left collarbone.

"Toji, I swear, if you point out one more, i'm gonna bite your finger off."

He stares at you silently, the corners of his lips twitching as you watch him, intently. After a few seconds, he slowly starts directing his finger towards a mark on your chest. Once he makes contact with your skin, he gently presses on the smear of color that marks it, still holding eye contact with you. "Here, too."

You swat his hand away from you, and huff. "Why did I even try to threaten you? You want me to bite your finger off, huh?"

"Not in the slightest. I just knew you weren't actually gonna do it, so I pushed it."

You cross your arms. "Whatever. I'm just gonna put a hoodie on so you can't look at them anymore."

"Woah, baby, put down the knife," he says, hands up in playful surrender. "No need to take drastic measures over this. Don't hide all my hard work."

"Hard work," you mutter, an incredulous scoff following.

Toji's gaze falls on your lips. "You're pouting like you wanna be kissed," he teases.

"And you're... you're being annoying," you say, covering your mouth with your hand, concealing the involuntary lift of your lips.

"Yeah, but you still want me to kiss you," he says, with a sly, knowing smirk on his face. "Look at you. Look at that blush. Even your knuckles are red, doll."

"Oh my god..." you groan with embarrassment. You use both hands to cover your entire face, now.

He chuckles, pulling you into his arms. "You're so pretty, ma. A total work of art." His hands have never gotten lost on you, but for now, in any way he holds you, he'll be able to see the trails his lips left behind.

"Stop..." you mumble, smiling softly at the sweetness poured into his words.

"You look mine, with all these marks," he says, pulling down the collar of your shirt a little, to see the blots of color that appear at the start of your spine.

"Shut up," you say, blushing furiously against his chest.

"Sounds like you still want that kiss, huh?"

"Not anymore," you say, lifting your gaze to meet his. The look in your eyes betrays every ounce of your denial. Toji can very clearly tell that you're lying.

"Those rosy cheeks are saying something else," he says, grinning. "Damn, look at those pretty lips. They're ready for me."

"If you want to kiss me, just say so," you chide, lightheartedly.

"I'm gonna kiss you so hard, doll," he says, cupping your cheeks again. "Your lips lack a little more of me."

[wrioluvr]

『dumbass.』 slutty sub yandere x gentle himbo darling, male yandere x amab reader. pt 2

sub! yandere who likes to take advantage of your kind nature to fish for compliments. he would degrade himself in front of you, acting all self-loathing to get your attention. nothing compares to the rush he gets as you rush to comfort him, trying your best to make him feel better.

sub! yandere who gets so jealous when you're nice to anyone but him. true, that's one of the things he loves about you, but why do you have to be friendly to everyone? they're all sluts anyway, who only like you for your looks. he can't really be talking when he snuck a photo of your cock and had a dildo custom made to your size, thrusting it in and out of his tight hole whenever he's feeling especially lonely.

sub! yandere whose biggest fantasy is you fucking and spanking him until he can't walk. come to think of it, he's never really seen you angry, like ever. the idea of you upset with him is both terrifying and exciting, he doesn't want you to hate him, but also the thought of you hatefucking him is so... it's enough to make him feral. he's sure you have to have some pent up energy somewhere, he would gladly offer his body for you to abuse. he knows you would never ever consider hurting him, but one can dream, right?

"come onnn. let me give you head." he pleads, clinging onto your arm like it's a lifeline. his eyes prick with tears. much to his surprise, you're the one who gets on your knees, kneeling in front of him. "wait, what are you doing? i don't need you to please me first...." he starts to protest frantically, waving his hands about. "i thought you wanted to give me head? like...headpats?" "no, silly. head means i wanna suck your dick." "oh!" "speaking of headpats, can you pull my hair while i suck you off? like really hard, please." "i don't wanna hurt you, though-" "how many times do i have to say, you could literally murder me, and i would thank you." "...i don't think that's possible." "i'll find a way. so what i'm saying is, be as rough as you want. please." he gags on your length, relishing the feeling of it stretching the slick walls of his throat. no matter how many times he's done this, you always worry he'll hurt himself. "hey...you're okay, right?" you ask worriedly, stroking his hair. he responds by making eye contact with you, swirling his tongue around the tip of the head, eliciting a rather passionate response from you. "fuck, i'm gonna-" involuntarily, you grip his hair tighter and let out a load into his mouth. he came in his pants, too, from you merely tugging his hair a little forcefully. soft pants fill the room. this would be the perfect opportunity for them to degrade me right now, he thinks to himself. but you don't. instead, you take a tissue and dabble at the cum dripping down his chin, making sure to clean him up. he loves you and would never overstep your boundaries.... he just wishes you were a little meaner.

[seungfl0wer]

*Run Rabbit*

Pairing: Lee Know x Reader (Fem)

Genre: Smut

Warnings: Primal Play, Breeding, Hair Pulling, Spanking, Dirty Talk, Sex Outside, (P In V), Reader called Bunny. (not proof read)

Kinks: Primal Play + Breeding

˚ ༘♡Master List (Here) for the 1K Event

-🩵

Your boyfriend has invited you to go camping for the weekend with him. A nice peaceful area he has found, nestled in the woods a small cabin by the lake. The place was beautiful and at night you could see the stunning stars sprinkled across the sky. You had already set up everything and were just relaxing by the fire as he cooked some meat over it.

The two of you sat there just talking about everything until Minho left out a chuckle. You tilted your head as if to ask him what he was laughing at and he pointed. You squinted your eyes to see two rabbits chasing on another the bigger one mounting the other. “Ah to have the thrill of the chase” he said almost too nonchalantly. Staring at him for a brief second “hmm” you said eyes locked on him. “What? Don’t think it’d be fun for me to chase you through these woods like a little bunny running from a mighty cat?”

He was meeting your gaze now smirking at the way your eyes almost lit up at his words. “Yeah? And does it end in the big ol cat eating the rabbit” you teased. “Something like that. Something will probably get eaten in the end” he shrugged. You choked on your spit at his comment, you could feel yourself becoming turned on as you played fantasy’s in your head. “Bunny” he said his voice almost teasing “I’ll give you a minute to run as far as you can.” The devilish smile that was plastered across his face made you almost moan.

“And if you catch me?” You say tilting your head again. He breathed in letting the air out in a sigh “then I’ll fuck you like the little rabbit you are” he chuckled. You stood up looking at him with a smile “you gotta catch me first kitty cat.” You teased. You were ready to bolt out of there before Minho spoke “before I start the timer you remember the safe word right bunny?” He said already eyeing you up. You nod “mhm.” You said in almost a hum. “Good you better get going I hit the timer a good 10 seconds ago” he said with a laugh.

You didn’t even hesitate running through the woods looking everywhere for a place you could hide. You heard Minho yell “Oh bunny” your brain going fuzzy realizing the time was already up and he was on the hunt. You ran past a tree with a red mark realizing you had already passed it. You were going in circles. You could hear twigs snapping as Minho ran through the woods in search for you. You didn’t know if you wanted to hide because the chase excited you or wanted to be pounced on from how turned on you were with all of this.

A twig snapped again sounding too close for comfort this time. As you started to run again you could hear Minho behind you “bunny” his voice almost growl running close behind you. You bobbed and weaved through the brush trying to lose him. You looked back quickly and saw he wasn’t there which made you slow down a bit. You were trying to catch your breath before you hear another twig break this time directly behind you. Before you could even react Minho had his arms around you, he manhandled you to the ground.

He moved you into position ass up in the air head down in the dirt. “Dirty little rabbit gave me a good chase.” He growled gripping your hips nicely as he pushed his body down onto to whisper into your ear. “Did the stupid little bunny really think she could out smart the sly cat hmm?” He chuckled an almost villain laugh. “I’m gonna fuck this rabbit stupid. Gonna show her why little bunnies shouldn’t mess with big scary cats.” He said voice husky, he was gripping your thighs hard rutting into you as he talked.

“My pretty little bunny” he said moving his body back to smack your ass hard. You let out a whimper your core aching from his touch, from his hot words. God you needed him, you needed him so badly it almost hurt. Minho on the other hand his brain was so foggy. The scenario running through his head as he felt his animalistic desires taking over. He felt as if he just caught his prey and was ready to completely devour you. The glint in his eyes was almost unnerving but fuck was it ever so hot.

He had no thoughts in his head other than ‘breed bunny.’ His body was almost on fire from desire and so was yours. Everything felt hot felt like a movie scene or I guess a porn scene. Minhos hands yanked down your sweats, ripping the pretty little lace panties you had on before pushing his fingers into you. The feeling of having something finally inside you made you moan so heavenly. Your wet cunt dripping around his digits clenching around them.

He chuckled that same villain like chuckle “you’re so fucking desperate aren’t you” he said his free hand coming down hard on your ass. “You’re such a filthy little animal” his voice almost a growl at this point. He pumped his fingers in and out of you stopping abruptly pulling them out. You let out a loud whine at the loss of them feeling so empty now. “I’ll give you another minute to run hmm?” He said his tone teasing. When you didn’t move though he smirked “no? Rather stay here and let me fuck you senseless? Gonna be my little toy to fuck hmm?” His words made you groan in response “y-yes” you stuttered out.

Minho bit his lip hard, he pulled his pants down quickly his cock sprang up smacking his stomach. He wasn’t super girthy but was very long. You always joked he had a pornstars dick which almost inflated his ego of course. He aligned himself to your entrance rubbing the head between your folds hitting your throbbing little nub. The sensation made you moan you were so sensitive wanting just to be touched at this point.

Minhos eyes were locked on the way your juices wet his cock making a mess of it. He let out a low groan before he put the tip to your entrance pushing fully in, in one swift motion. He let out the most lustful moan as his balls slapped your wetness. You almost screamed at the feeling of being so filled so fast. He didn’t let himself adjust long before he was pounding into you. His hands gripping harshly at your hips nails digging deep into your skin.

The strewn of ‘fucks’ leaving his mouth started to mumble together, and you? You were such a moaning mess under him drool trailing down your chin. He let another harsh smack to your ass before moving his hand to in tangle in your hair gripping it hard pulling your head back. “This wanted you wanted? The big Cat fucking you like a rabbit in heat hmm? Wanting nothing more than me to fuck you hard like this?” He spat.

You groaned in response but it wasn’t good enough for him “Are you too stupid to talk? Use your words or are you just a dumb little bunny?” He hissed pulling your hair harder. “Fuck- Mm-Min yes- want-“ your words were almost incoherent at this point already so fucked out of your mind. He laughed in response “you can’t even speak properly to fucked out already?” He said this time he didn’t wait for a response. He let go of your hair pushing your head back down as-well as your body, keeping your ass in the air though.

The new angle let him get even deeper he watched as his cock disappeared and reappeared in and out of your sloppy cunt. You could hear him mumbling to himself ‘what mess, so wet for me’ he said ‘gonna cum deep and breed you good’ his voice was almost a whisper and a growl combined. It was so fucking hot. He left a smack to your ass again smirking at the big red print he had made. His movements were becoming a bit erratic, he could feel his high coming. Not wanting this to end just yet he pushed deep into you before stopping his movements.

He reached his hand down to play with your neglected clit rubbing harsh circles over it. He moved his body against yours once again sucking your shoulder and neck harshly. He loved marking your body letting everyone know you were taken. You were taken by him. And only him. The feeling of you being so stuffed, him now biting your neck harshly and his hand moving so perfectly against your clit was too much. Your legs started to shake it becoming harder for you to stay how you were positioned. Minho growled against your skin “stay” he staid feeling your legs become wobbly.

“Min- close- please” you moaned the drool dropping down your face now. The feeling of your walls clenching around him made him start to move. His movements were slow at first before he quickened them groaning against your ear now. “Cum on my cock while I pump you full, gonna breed you so good. Gonna fill you with all my cum- gonna-“ his words stuttered as his high was approaching “gonna make fill you till I know your pregnant with all my kittens” he said bringing his free hand to grip around your throat moving your head to kiss you sloppily.

Sucking hard on your tongue exchanging moans teeth crashing into each other. You felt your legs almost give out at the last hard thrust of Minhos burring his cock deep inside you before releasing all his hot cum. You could feel his cock poking at your stomach feeling all of his hot liquid fill you to the brim. His hand that was still playing with you clit moved faster as your high came along just as quick. Your high washing over you as your cunt gripped him perfectly. “Ah- fuck-“ he moaned out at the feeling “your cunts gonna suck every last drop out of me” he said body shaking at the feeling.

“Y/n” he moaned into your ear he wrapped his arms around you pulling you close to him as you came down from your high both of you trying to catch your breath. Once you two came down you could feel him still twitching a bit inside you. His arms lazily wrapped around you his head in the crook of your neck as he kissed you softly. “Ugh fuck” he groaned out. “What?” You said breathily. “We’re gonna have to walk the whole way back” he whined. You chuckled a bit “yeah guess so.”

He smiled against your skin “I’ll give you a minute to get back or we’ll just go for a round two if I catch you.” He chuckled a bit. “Minho, I don’t even think I can stand right now.” You teased. “Well better try before I start the counter again.” He said kissing your neck. You were gonna call his bluff but you could feel his cock become hard again. “If I make it home before you catch me we are taking a nice bath.” You bargained. He nodded “fine but you better start running I already started the timer.” He said with an evil grin. This little asshole I swear.

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

[jq37]

Aelwyn is sixteen and preparing for midterms at Hudol. Uniform pressed and starched, head full of incantations and spell components. She doesn't mean to bump into Adaine and get orange juice all over her shirt but today isn't the day she's going to start showing weakness.

"You know, you really should watch we're you're going," she says archly, playing off the clumsy mistake as a purposeful jab.

Playing it off a bit too well because, the next thing she knows, Adaine is flipping her off and a bolt of queasy looking, green energy is coming towards her. Ray of Sickness. And she can't spare the spell slot for Counterspell because she needs it for her exams.

"You little bitch!" Aelwyn says once she's emptied the contents of her stomach down the front of her shirt.

"Good luck with your exams," Adaine says sweetly.

Aelwyn is eighteen and the oldest, mangiest cat she's ever seen in her life has just vomited on her shoes.

"My," she says, casting a shield spell around her ankles to stop the cat from clawing at them. "You weren't kidding. He is a little bastard, isn't he?"

The shelter volunteer looks mortified. "Oh, gods! I am so sorry. I tried to warn you--I mean, not that I'm blaming you but--"

"No, it's alright. I did ask you to show me stragglers."

The shelter worker gestures to another pen on the other side of the room. "I can show you the kittens we just got in or there are some very well behaved older cats as well if you'd--"

But Aelwyn cuts her off, scooping up the old cat--though she holds him at arm's length for now, just to be safe. "No need. I haven't changed my mind. I'll take this one." She looks at the tag on his collar. "Hector."

Aelwyn is three and, as of a month ago, no longer the youngest Abernant.

She's had baby dolls in the past but never a baby sister and this is exciting new territory. She's full of questions. When is she going to be able to walk? When is she going to be able to talk? When will she be old enough to have lembas bread instead of formula?

Her parents seem less fascinated by the new addition to the family than she is but her mother is amused when she slaps away the hand of a colleague of her father's who tried to touch Adaine before sanitizing his hands, standing between the much larger man and her sister.

"So defensive. Perhaps she'll be an abjurer."

When Aelwyn asks what that is, her mother says that it's a kind of magical protector and she likes that a lot. That sounds like a good thing to be.

At night, Adaine cries. Except, she doesn't hear it because the mobile above her crib is etched with runes that cast the Silence spell.

"But what if she gets hurt?" Aelwyn asks.

Her father brushes her off. That's what the Unseen Servants are for. But she thinks that's what an abjurer might be for too and even though she isn't one yet, that doesn't mean she can't start practicing.

So, every night, Aelwyn waits until her parents have put Adaine down for bed and then tiptoes into her room. She checks to see if Adaine is silently wailing and if she is (and even sometimes if she isn't) she presses her face between the bars of the crib and sticks her little hand over Adaine's face.

"Don't cry," she says, even though the Silence spell mutes her words as completely as the tears. "Mum said I'm an abjurer. Nothing will get you. Don't cry, baby."

Adaine grabs her hand with impressive grip strength for something so small and, within a few minutes, she's trancing peacefully.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her sister is off to save the world again. This time from a Night Yorb--whatever that is.

It feels cruel that Adaine should have to go risk her life again so soon after she just almost died--not almost died, she did die before being raised by her cleric.

She wants to come with, to help in some way. Surely she could be helpful--last quest they brought Gilear for Helio's sake!

But Adaine doesn't ask her and she can't bring herself to say the words she needs to have the conversation she wants. So, instead, she lightly whaps Adaine on the shoulder with her spellbook as she's packing for the quest.

"I know you haven't done much studying lately what with your grades being based on how many hobgoblins you kill or whatever ridiculous system Aguefort has cooked up," Adaine rolls her eyes at that, "But if you don't mind a little cram session before you leave tomorrow, I can show you how to cast Teleport like I said. Might help you stay a touch less dead on your quest."

Her tone is light but her eyes betray her: Please, please, please don't die again.

Adaine's expression softens but then she scoffs, playing her half of their game. "I don't know what a Hudol dropout who's been in jail for the past year is gonna teach me but do your best."

Aelwyn is seven and her father is cross with her.

"Really Aelwyn," he says and even though they're talking via crystal she can feel the frost of his glare. "You thought it was appropriate to call me at work for no good reason? How many times have I told you and your sister to not bother me while I'm working."

She hates the word bother. She doesn't want to be a bother. She tries very hard not to be. Maybe she just didn't explain herself well enough.

"I know, father. But Addy got really scared and panicky on the playground. She was breathing really hard and--"

Her father makes a noise of disgust. "I don't have time for this. She is in primary school now. Stop coddling her. And her name is Adaine, not Addy. Please speak properly. I'm raising you better than that."

He hangs up before she can say anything else.

Aelwyn is eighteen and most of the claw marks on her arms have healed, which is nice. On her lap asleep is Hector who has apparently decided he likes her enough to use her as a radiator but not enough to submit to medical treatment without using her arms as a scratching post.

"You little heat vampire," she says as she slides her thumb across the screen of her crystal, searching for a video that will help her out. Eventually she finds one that looks promising and she calls it up.

On the screen, a halfling is standing next to a cat who is actively shredding her sweater with its claws. "You're going to be tempted to use some kind of a shield spell when applying the ointment," says the halfling. "But cats can smell abjuration magic and they don't love it. You won't get close enough to do the job. Isn't that right my darling?"

In response, her cat hacks up a hairball.

"Darling indeed," she says under her breath.

But even laced with sarcasm, the word is sweeter against her tongue than she anticipated.

She sinks her hand into Hector's fur and scratches his back for a few moments before tentatively speaking aloud. "Sleeping well, my darling?"

Hector says nothing--he's asleep and a cat. But warmth blooms in Aelwyn's chest--more than enough to make up for what Hector is leeching from her.

Aelwyn is seventeen and her father has just given her the most horrible command she's ever received in her life--and she's counting being made to sink a ship full of people in that calculation.

She knows her father doesn't expect her to delicately extricate the knowledge he needs from Adaine's mind. He expects her to get it at all costs. To ransack and pillage the memories if necessary with no heed of the consequences on her psyche. He'd probably prefer it that way--the more broken Adaine is, the easier it will be to mold her into a version of herself that is more useful to him.

Aelwyn is usually a smooth talker and a convincing liar but now, she stumbles all over her words, babbling out a stream of deflections and pleas as her heart squeezes tighter and tighter in her chest until she can't hold back the truth that she's been suppressing for years anymore.

"Adaine's just…she's a baby."

Aelwyn is eighteen and her apartment is full of cats.

She's always thought that the phrase, "One thing led to another" was a bit of a cop out--clearly there were key steps between point A and point B being glossed over--but in this case, there is truly no better way for her to articulate how she went from zero cats to ten cats in such a short amount of time.

She's sure that if she was still living with Jawbone, he'd have something to say about it but that's exactly why she isn't currently living with Jawbone.

She portions out food for all of the cats, saving Hector for last because he likes to eat curled up next to her.

"My darling baby boy," she says, lifting him onto the couch with her because the jump up is a bit much for him and his old bones. She kisses him on the top of the head and then pulls out her crystal. She scrolls mindlessly for a bit before checking her messages despite the fact that there's conspicuously no notifications.

Not that she has many people to expect texts from but she hasn't heard from Adaine in a few weeks and it's unsettling. When they weren't getting along, they were still living under the same roof. She was able to keep tabs on her, more or less. Now, they're closer than they've been in ages but barely talking.

I'm the older sister, I suppose, Aelwyn thinks. I should take the initiative.

She pets Hector with one hand and drafts a message with another: Are you alive, bitch?

She's about to press send but then she frowns and deletes the draft. After a few moments of thought, she taps out a new message: Can't believe I'm gonna say this. Miss my little sister. Everything all right?

Aelwyn is seventeen--though she doesn't feel like it.

Her mind is telling her that she's sixteen and that she was just been broken out of a jail cell in Solace but Adaine is telling her that she's just been broken out of an entirely different prison after being tortured for months even though she doesn't remember any of that.

But her body feels frail and Adaine says she's been in her mind which means she must have used the hard reset.

She's suddenly feeling very vulnerable--not because of the disorientation or the of the levels of exhaustion she can feel weighing on her like leaden chains. No, it's because of the fact that Adaine using the reset means that she must have read the treacle-y note that she left there for her to find.

It was just an insurance policy, she tells herself. There was wisdom to buttering up your savior to make sure she'd do what you needed her to do.

She manages to mostly believe it. But the small, truthful part of herself that knows how deeply she meant the words is so uncomfortable that she antagonizes Adaine until she's annoyed enough to hit her with a spell, sending her into blissful unconsciousness.

Aelwyn is nineteen and she's going to kill her mother.

Well, not alone of course. Adaine deserves the kill at least as much as she does if not more. It'll be a group effort.

It's a strange mix--the cold fury at her mother mixed with the warmth she feels for her sister, sitting across the table from her. She summons a flame to her palm, a preview of what their mother has waiting for her. She watches Adaine's eyes harden with resolve and she sees the face of her baby sister, left to wail alone silently for hours, soothed by her presence. "Let's get her."

"Yes, my dear," she says, the endearment coming freely as if this has always been their dynamic. "We'll get her."

But there will be time for that later. Right now, it's time for ice cream and seeing Adaine so content in such a simple pleasure causes the warmth in her to surge so suddenly that it would be startling if it wasn't so pleasant. The urge to voice it is so powerful that she doesn't know that would have been able to stop it at any point in life, let alone now.

"I hope we get to eat ice cream and cast magic forever," she says, words that would have been impossible for her to say one short year ago and impossible not to say now.

And, to her delight, Adaine agrees.

[novulen]

𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓 — *:ꔫ:*

A strong hold on your wandering hand stops you.

“Not here, sweetheart.” Nanami groans, gruff and utterly commanding. You feel yourself shiver involuntarily at his tone, body falling pliable in his hold in bitter defeat.

“But Ken…” you whine, your small, angry fists banging on his chest. “We haven’t done anything in weeks. You’ve barely even touched me.”

A drawn out sigh fills the expanse of Nanami’s office. Had you really come all this way, up two flights of stairs, for such a thing?

“We just can’t.” his hand reaches up to his temple, rubbing, and momentarily, his eyes flicker with sour jealousy.

But Nanami��s not stupid. He’s seen the way the men in the office stare at you–their gazes journeying the curves of your body as if you were on display. And, while he does put you up on a pedestal, men lusting over his wife is something Nanami doesn’t exactly find mirthful.

So, then why would he give them the opportunity to hear your sweet, sultry moans?

“My final answer is no, love,” his voice booms–a deep rumble that you feel ripple against your skin.

You frown. “I locked the door…”

Nanami shakes his head dejectedly. “Some of my colleagues have keys.” he hums, his chair turning towards his desk to resume his work, but you stop him.

With determination in your eyes, you place a delicate hand to his cheek.

Stroking his face, “Can I at least?..” you trail off, venturing your free hand down his sculpted body and rippling muscles to his belt. Your fingertips caress the expensive leather, waiting for a response.

Nanami exhales. You’ll really be the death of him.

“I–” he begins, his mind battling between right and wrong–morality or pleasure. But, surely, this wouldn’t hurt.

Right?

The slight nod he soon gave you was all you needed.

You start to undo the garment, succeeding and tossing it elsewhere. He stops you. “Under the desk.”

Swiftly and almost embarrassingly so, you comply, hissing as your knees make contact with the cold, ceramic flooring. Liquid heat and anticipation begins to bubble in your stomach, your mouth watering at the bulge poking through his khaki pants.

Slowly, you peel down his slacks and soon his boxers. His cock springs up, sturdy and excited, and your abdomen clenches fiercely.

“So big,” you mutter to yourself as you lean your head in to place kitten licks on his tip. Soft and supple against him, your hands twist around him, pulling out little whimpers from his lips.

“Mhm..take it all in, sweetheart.”

Nanami’s hips stutter upwards as you bob your head down his shaft, taking it in little by little. You gag as his protruding veins rub against your throat, the neatly trimmed hair at his base tickling your nose.

Breathing in heavily through your nose, fat tears swell in your eyes.

“Don’t back down now,” Nanami tilts his head, amused. His calloused thumb swipes at your tears, a bittersweet feeling of soft and rough against your skin.

Pleasure courses through the both of you. And although there’s no physical feeling for you, the satisfaction you get out of seeing Nanami finally wind down is just about enough.

Just.

Underwhelmed, you grind the balls of your feet against your core. Your shoes had been discarded long ago since you’d practically skipped into his office.

The moans you emit vibrate flush to his cock, a deep groan as his hands tangle in your hair.

“You—fuck, don’t do that,” he rasps, tugging your head backwards and watching as your tongue lolls out instinctively in an attempt to lick him. “I’ll be too loud.”

His cheeks flush a blush pink in realization…He’d just told you his weakness.

“Too loud, huh?” you grin, taking all of his girth in, purposefully humming around him. And it takes all of his strength not to cum right then and there—and he still fails.

Hot spurts of his seed flow into your mouth, bitter and warm on your taste buds and tongue. Nanami grips the armrest of his chair and swallows hard, head thrown back and mouth pressed into a tight line.

Through his orgasm, he still has the strength to order, “Swallow.”

And you do, proudly showing him your tongue after, clean of any residue.

Satisfied, you both take in a shared inhale. You stand to sit on his lap once again, humming into his skin. Silence as his fingers caress and he kisses your hair.

“Love,” Nanami breaks the silence, and you frown, knowing his next words. “I know, I know,” you interrupt, planting a chaste kiss to his lips as you get up and put your heels back on. “I’ll be waiting for you at home.”

Tasting himself on his lips, he moans, albeit faintly.

Giving him a sultry smile and wave, you exit. Your heart almost jumps out of your chest when you turn around only to be met with a certain white haired person.

“Gojo, fuck,” you whisper under your breath, clutching your heart and things. ‘What are you doing…”

“The same could be said to you,” He grins and arches an eyebrow, pearly whites on display. “Coming out of Nanamin’s office like…this.” He sassily looks you up and down, referring to your unruly hair and wrinkled clothes.

You place a hand on your hip and look up at the freakishly tall man. “And just what do you mean by that?”

“Hm, nothing. I’ll just be going now,” He shrugs, giving you one last look before he begins to strut away from you. Confused by the whole interaction, you stand there, wondering.

“Oh, and…” Gojo turns around to face you again. “There’s something white on your top lip.”

[worldlxvlys]

i can’t stop thinking abt these clips so i was thinking of an idea for a fanfic where reader sees these clips and notices that it looks like matt enjoys it so she gets an idea to ride him and choke and cover his mouth with her hand to muffle his moans and it turns him on

please 🙏 this would be so hot 😫

drive you crazy

matt sturniolo x reader

warnings: smutttttt, degradation, choking, use of blindfold, p in v, cream pie, squirting, cursing

a/n: enjoyyyy 🫶🏾🫶🏾

every time i opened up tik tok, i was met with my boyfriend’s face.

i tended to like and repost the fans’ edits of the triplets, so it wasn’t unusual for my for you page to be filled with them.

lately, however, i’ve been seeing a clip from one specific car video more and more frequently.

“how disrespectful is this motion, matt?” chris asked as he reached his hand to matt’s face, covering his mouth.

matt’s head fell forward as chris let go, smiling and covering his face with his hands.

“ohhh that drives you crazy, i know it did” chris yelled.

chris did the motion again, covering his mouth as matt continued to smile.

chris was right, it was driving him crazy.

i quickly saved the video, before continuing to rewatch it several times.

when i scrolled, the next video was an edit of nick choking matt.

his hands wrapped around matt’s neck from behind, and matt’s head fell back.

his eyes closed as his mouth hung open, he clearly enjoyed it.

i felt a dull aching between my thighs as i rewatched the clip.

i saved the video, before an idea popped into my head.

on my way out, i spotted matt’s white bandana laying on my desk.

i had been meaning to give it back to him since i realized he left it here.

i quickly grabbed it before heading out, sticking it in my pocket.

when i got to his house, i let myself in. i passed chris and nick in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before making my way to matt’s room.

when i walked in, i was met with the sight of matt sitting at the edge of his bed, naked.

he held his phone in one hand, jacking himself off with the other.

he was letting out light grunts as his hand slid up and down his hard cock.

i closed and locked the door quickly behind me, before making my way over to him.

“what are you looking at?” i asked as i glanced at his phone.

“you” he whispered as he showed me the mirror pictures that i had sent him.

“i’m right here, baby” i spoke as i grabbed his jaw, pulling his lips to mine.

he moaned into the kiss as he placed his phone down on the bed, his hands wrapping around my waist.

“you said i could do anything, right?” i asked as my lips hovered over his.

“of course, i trust you ma” he responded, gently rubbing his thumb against my waist.

“good” i said before wrapping my hand around his throat, watching his eyes roll back immediately.

he let out a low moan as i squeezed my hand, applying light pressure to his throat.

“you like that, matt?” i asked.

his eyes fluttered open, half-lidded as his mouth opened slightly. he nodded his head slowly in response.

i used the grip i had on his neck to pull his lips back to mine.

“fuck” he whimpered against my lips. “i need you so bad, it hurts” he said as he squeezed my arm lightly.

“yeah? scooch back” i said as i pulled my shirt and bra off.

he obliged, moving back towards the headboard to lean his back against it.

when i pulled off my pants, matt’s bandana fell out of my pocket.

once i pulled off my panties, i grabbed it off of the floor, planning on placing it on his nightstand.

seeing it in my hand, he perked up slightly. “you’re gonna blindfold me?” his eyes widened slightly, but the tone of his voice almost sounded excited.

i tilted my head at him, before crawling onto his lap.

“you want me to blindfold you? such a little freak” i spoke as i gripped his jaw, tilting his head back.

“i love it” i grinned down at him before tying the bandana around his eyes.

he looked so good, and it only made me wetter.

i waved my hand in front of his face, checking to make sure he couldn’t see anything.

when he didn’t react, i grabbed his hand and pulled it down to my pussy.

his fingers ran through my folds, making us both moan out.

“you feel how wet you make me, matt?” i asked, eliciting another moan from him.

i pulled his hand to my mouth, making him gasp in surprise at the feeling of my tongue swirling around his fingers.

“oh my- please, please, i need you so bad. don’t tease me, please” he whined.

in response to his neediness, i wasted no time in lining him up with my entrance and sinking down on him.

“ohhh my god” he groaned loudly, making me place my hand over his mouth.

“shhh, don’t want your brothers to hear” i whispered into his ear.

he groaned and whined into my hand continuously as i began to find my rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock.

his fingers dug into my waist, his head flying back.

the headboard thumped against the wall as i rolled and lifted my hips on him.

“how you feeling, matt?” i asked as i continued my movements.

MATT’S POV

“how you feeling matt?”

how am i feeling?

i had never felt this much pleasure at once and i could barely handle it.

the way she silenced my moans with her hand was driving me crazy.

due to my sight being taken away, all of my other senses were heightened.

not being able to see allowed me to focus on the feeling of her tight pussy wrapped around my cock.

her walls gripped my dick tightly, holding onto me as she slid up and down my length.

if she was tired, she didn’t show it as she continued to fuck me at a relentless pace.

she seemed to keep her composure, keeping her moans low enough for only me to hear them.

i heard the soft moans clearly as her mouth was right next to my ear.

“you look so pretty like this, matt. how does it feel to know that you’re powerless? can’t talk, can’t see. just gotta take whatever i do to you” she whispered.

my eyes rolled into the back of my head when she choked me again.

“love this blindfold on you, but i wanna see the pretty faces you make when you cum inside of me” she said before pulling the blindfold off, throwing it to the side.

i moaned loudly into her hand at the sight of her tits bouncing in front of my face.

i looked down at where our bodies met, watching her take me effortlessly.

she moved her face closer to mine, her nose hitting mine as her hand pressed harder against my mouth.

“i told you to be quiet” she whispered down to me.

she glared at me squeezing the hand around my throat, as my head dropped back into the headboard.

“look at me” she spoke as she tilted my head down to look at her.

“you gonna cum?” she asked, making me nod quickly in response.

“yeah? do it. fuck your cum into me, matt.” i cried out into her hand as my body tensed up.

i held her hips down against me as i shot my load deep inside of her, coating her walls with my cum.

“f-fuck, i’m cumming” she moaned out as she moved her hand from my mouth, her head falling onto my shoulder.

“i got you, baby. let it out” i whispered as i hugged her close to me.

she gasped as her body shook against mine, her arms wrapping around my shoulders.

she lifted herself off of me, her juices shooting out of her and onto my dick.

“fuck” i groaned in surprise at the feeling of her pleasure dripping down my length.

i watched as my seed dripped out of her stretched hole and down her thigh.

“god damn” she whispered as she laid down next to me, catching her breath.

“so” she began, a cheeky grin forming on her face, “did you like it?”

i rolled my eyes at her playfully, shaking my head, “shut up”

“hey, i’m not the one the was whimpering and moaning uncontrollably”

“and who’s fault is that ?” i asked, raising my eyebrows at her.

she shot me a small grin in response.

she got up, holding her hand out to me, “let me clean you up in the shower?”

“yeah” i agreed.

“do you need help getting there…or?” she teased.

i grabbed a pillow off of the bed and chucked it at her, making her burst out laughing.

“i just wanna make sure you aren’t sore!”

🌷🌷🌷🌷

😵‍💫😵‍💫

masterlist

tag list: : @lustfulslxt @flowerxbunnie @sturnssx @mattslolita @its-jennarose @sophssturn @bernardsleftbootycheek @queen161718 @cupidsword @imwetforyourmom @nickmillersn1gf @mattsneezing @chrisstankyleg @sturniolobltch @ciarasturn1 @bethsturn @bernardenjoyer @mbbsgf @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @ssturniolo @blueeyedbesson @mxqdii @sturniolowhore @heraakayourname @defnotayonna @urmom2bitch @rootbeerworshiper @starsturniolo @hearts4chriss @theyluv-meee @carolinalikesthings @itzdarling @chrisstopherfilmed @judespoision @sstvrnioloo @littlebookworm803 @nicksdrpepper @chrisloyalgf @robins-scoop @fandomhopped @chr1sgirl4life @bbglmfao @55sturn @sturniolololover @meg-sturniolo @mattsnymphette @leah-loves-lilies @vanteguccir @ineedchriscock @junnniiieee07

[vivwritesfics]

Can you write a max verstappen x fem reader where they do anal (fem receiving) cause he won a championship or a race please

I made this goofy because... i can and i love goofy max

Mornings: Smut, foreplay, fingering, use of good girl, anal, mention of handcuffs

March 1st, 2023

"You know how we pulled out the handcuffs when I won the championship last year, what do I get this time?" Max asked his girlfriend as they laid in bed together.

They were days away from the season opener. Max didn't need any motivation other than to get the win, but he wanted something else.

Y/N thought on it. "Something kinkier than handcuffs, right?" She asked and Max nodded his head. "Okay, how about... anal?"

"Huh?"

"You heard me." She wasn't going to repeat it.

Max didn't agree, not right away. "I've got one better," he said. "Anal, but whenever I get a win. Then we do something properly crazy when I win the championship." He wore a smirk as he said it.

She thought about it. There was no way Max was gonna win almost every race, right? She held her hand towards him. "Alright, deal."

March 5th 2023, Bahrain

"Shit," she whispered as she watched Max finish his final lap twelve seconds ahead of his teammate. Thank God nobody had heard her. Thank God Jos Verstappen hadn't heard her.

No, she was genuinely happy for her boyfriend. She ran to the barrier to great him, throwing her arms around him. She wasn't going to kiss him, not when he was wearing his helmet after a race (those things get diiirty).

He did what he had to, held his trophy up on the podium, sprayed the champagne, conducted the interviews. As soon as he was done he walked out of the paddock, holding his girlfriends hand. "Excited for tonight?" He whispered in her ear, his arm slipping around her body. For once he didn't care about the cameras on him.

"Max, I'm so proud of you, but my ass already hurts."

Max waited until they got into the car. "We don't have to do it if you don't want to," he said gently, his hand on her knee.

She shook her head. "I made a promise. We bought the lube for a reason."

Max pulled her close and kissed the top of her head. "That's my girl," he whispered and they set off to the hotel.

Normally she and Max would by flying straight back to Monaco, not staying in the country of the Grand Prix. But tonight? Max couldn't wait to get her back into the bed. "Any time you want to stop, we can," he said as they parked up.

Taking her hand, he led her up to the hotel room. In the elevator he held her hips, squeezing. He kissed her neck, her head thrown back against his shoulder, until the elevator doors opened.

They walked down the hall, his lips still on her neck, with her giggling as she struggled to open the hotel room door. She just about got it open when Max lifted her up and it closed one again. "Maxy," she whispered, her forehead against his. "The door."

Using one hand (while still holding her up) he struggled to get the keycard into the door and push it open. It took several attempts, but eventually they were in the room.

"Fuck yeah," he whispered, dropping her onto the bed. She erupted into laughs and giggles.

He was going to make this fun for her, make it enjoyable for her. As long as she was having a good time, he was happy.

She rolled onto her stomach and Max immediately pulled down her jeans. He slapped her ass and then squeezed. "Fuck, I love your ass," he said. He squeezed both cheeks at the same time. "I'm gonna win every race this season."

"Oh, I have no doubt you are," she responded.

Max pulled down her panties. He felt her, lightly touched her folds. Even just his fingers barely touching her had her shivering. "Hurry up and touch me," she whispered, pushing against his hand.

"Alright, needy," he said and gripped her ass again.

He pushed her folds apart, caught a glance of how wet she was. "Holy shit," he whispered.

In the years they had been together, Max had become an expert. He knew just how to touch her body in a way that had her trembling beneath him. He knew just what he wanted to do, knew how he wanted to treat her.

"Just one orgasm first, yeah?"

She nodded, unable to bring the words to her lips. "That's it, that's my girl," he said, pumping his fingers in and out of her.

She quivered below him. "Max, fuuuuck!" She cried out, clenching around his fingers.

He slapped her ass. "Shit!" She squeaked, eyes shut as she came.

"Now to the fun stuff," Max said. He pinched her thigh and got up, wandering over to his bag.

Buried beneath everything was a great big bottle of lube. She just turned her head, watching as Max pulled it out and walked it over. "I didn't realise we bought such a big bottle," she said, somewhat astounded.

Max took his time with her. He dropped a good amount of lube onto her ass and worked her open. It was a slow process, painful at first. But she relaxed, trusted Max to take care of her. "That's it, my good girl," Max whispered. He squeezed the flesh of her ass, trying to relax her.

When she was nice and loose, Max leaned forward and kissed her shoulder blade. "You're nice and loose now, Mijn liefje," he whispered. "Are you ready for me?"

She nodded her head.

"Words, baby."

"I... I'm ready Max," she stuttered out.

Max still took his time. He pulled her apart and pushed himself forward. When his tip met her hole she gasped, and Max slowed himself down. "You're doing so good," Max whispered, pulling himself back.

Each time he pushed into her, he went just a little bit further. No amount of preparation could have made this any easier. But Max was so soft, so sweet, so gentle with her.

He thrust himself into her, his pace slow. Her squeezed him gasping every time he pushed his head inside of her. "Holy shit, Max," she whimpered.

There was no feeling like this. Max was hitting spots she didn't know existed. With some more work from his expert fingers on her pussy she came, body shaking. Two orgasms and the new sensations Max was providing her with, it was all too much. She couldn't quite take it.

He suddenly pulled out, spilling his seed over her back. Gasping, Max fell down beside her. "You did so good for me, Schat," he whispered, leaning over to kiss her.

Her body twitched as Max chased his high. "All... most... there...

Mijn liefje," he grunted, his thrusts speeding up.

Max took a moment to catch his breath. As soon as he did he ran the too small hotel bath and carried her to it.

March 19th 2023, Saudi Arabia

Y/N watched, biting her nails. "C'mon," she whispered under her breath. "C'mon, Maxy." It was embarrassing, how excited she was for his next win. More importantly, how excited she was for the aftermath of his next win.

But Max didn't win, Sergio Perez won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix. "Fuck," she hissed under her breath. Beside her, Jos Verstappen lost his mind. She didn't. She stayed calm, because she knew that was what Max was going to need.

After the podium, Y/N held Max close. "Well done, Maxy," she whispered, kissing him.

Max said nothing. He just held her close for a minute, his head pressed into her shoulder. But then he spoke up. "I know I didn't win, but..."

"No, Max. We said if you win, remember?"

"Next race. Your ass is mine."

[l1tw1ck]

top!amab male character x bottom!ftm reader

800 Words | Kinktober

think of whoever (endeavor, william afton, zhongli, etc)

Terminology Used: pussy, cunt, t-cock, slick

CW: Non-Con, Boss/Employee, Creampie, Daddy Kink

Your boss, the CEO of the most well known company in the country, decided that he needed a new assistant. An assistant that fits a special criteria. You applied and got hired on the spot, you barely even spoke. You were too excited to realize how bad that was. It was fine for the first few days and then he started making comments and staring at you for a bit too long. The job pays really well so you've been ignoring it and hoping he'd keep his hands off you. It was wishful thinking.

Your boss pushes himself against you, placing his hands on your hips while you make him coffee. He has his own private break room and decided to use that to take advantage of you. He leans into your neck and takes a deep breath in. "You smell nice."

You let out a shaky breath, trying to build up the confidence to tell him off. "With all due respect sir, I'm not very comfortable with this." You sound the opposite of confident. He ignores you and sucks on your neck while unbuckling your pants. "Please, sir..."

He groans. "Shh, it's okay." He touches you through your underwear, getting you aroused against your own will. Your breathing turns shallow as he spreads your legs slightly more apart so that his hand can comfortably slip into your boxers, thick fingers sliding into your entrance.

You grip the edge of the table for balance, your head hanging low as he fingers you. Your fear of his reaction stops you from telling him to stop. He could hurt you if he wanted to. You let out shallow breaths, staring at the coffee maker that just finished pouring his drink. If you could manage to grab it without hesitating, you could spill it on him. It might spill on you too but it’d be worth a shot.

He pulls his fingers out and the small feeling of relief you feel is quickly ripped away with the sound of his belt unbuckling and dropping to the floor. He pulls down your underwear, quickly escalating the situation and filling you with more fear and discomfort. You hold your breath, feeling his length in between your legs. "Sir..." You breathe out, anticipating his next move and planning your own.

He lubes up his cock with your slick and prods his tip against your entrance. Your boss groans into your ear as he forces himself inside your cunt. "Yes...so warm." He murmurs. You hiss as his fat length stretches you open. His fingers were not nearly enough to prepare you for his cock.

He doesn't give you any time to adjust, already starting to fuck you at a rough pace. You grip the table harder than before, moans involuntarily slipping out of your mouth. You lost your chance. You’d just burn your own hands if you tried now.

He lets out a dragged out groan. "You feel so damn good—" He moans your name. "You’re taking my cock so well, baby."

"Please–" You gasp. "Mr—!"

“It's Daddy.” He runs his hand up your body, from your pelvis to your jaw. You feel yourself twitch from the unfamiliar touches. He gently grips your jaw. “Say it.”

“Da— Daddy-” You choke out.

He lets out a deep groan of pleasure. “Good boy.” He leans into your ear, his heavy breaths and groans becoming easier to hear. “Your pussy’s so tight, so warm…you're perfect.”

“It hurts-” You let out another involuntarily breathy moan. “Too fast-”

“I’m sorry, baby, but I can't slow down. You feel too fucking good.” He kisses your cheek. “You can take it.”

You shut your eyes, knowing this’ll be a common occurrence from now on. Even if you managed to escape he’d try again and thanks to the contract you signed, you can't quit yet. Not like quitting would save you anyway. He’d find a way to keep you in his grasp. He lets go of your jaw and brings his hand down to your crotch, lovingly stroking your t-cock. You shiver in pleasure as your legs start to give in thanks to that. “I can't– I can't–”

“Yes you can. You're doing so good.” He gets even more aroused by the sound of your voice. He aims at your g-spot, earning a loud gasp from you. “Right there..” He hits it again. Your cunt flexes around his length. He fucks you through your orgasm, somehow going even faster. “You're so good for me...”

“Too much– Please, it's- fuck~”

He ignores you and chases his own orgasm. “Gonna come right in your tight fucking pussy…” He moans. “Make you mine..”

He seems to like the idea of claiming you. Considering how good you feel right now despite everything, he might be able to fulfill that fantasy. And surprisingly, him coming inside you is the least problematic thing that's happening right now. Thankfully for you, he won't have much luck getting you pregnant.

He slows down, filling you up with his cum. He doesn't pull out though. Not even as he softens inside you. He doesn't want to leave your warmth, not yet.

[misswynters]

Tamed Targaryen Heart

Aemond Targaryen x fem!wife! reader

[warnings: pregnancy, difficult birth

[word count: 1.1k

[a/n: maybe i will turn this into a series…

[note | pls don’t just like, reblog & give me feedback. i don’t want to get shadowbanned

The dimly lit chamber was filled with the scent of lavender and the muffled sound of Aemond Targaryen’s pacing footsteps. He glanced over at you, lying on the bed, sweat beading on your forehead as you gripped the bed sheets tightly. Your two sons, Aerys and Daeron, were asleep in their chambers, blissfully unaware of the turmoil that you were enduring.

“Aemond,” you groaned, your voice strained with frustration and pain, “I can’t take this anymore. This girl is taking her sweet time.”

Aemond moved swiftly to your side, his single eye filled with concern. He brushed a damp strand of hair from your face. “You are strong, my love. She will come when she is ready.”

“I’m tired of waiting!” you snapped, your patience long gone. “I just want her out. Now!”

The midwives and nurses exchanged wary glances but kept their focus on preparing for the birth. Your irritation was palpable, and the tension in the room thickened with each passing moment.

“Why don’t we try going for a walk?” you suggested suddenly, struggling to sit up. “Maybe that will help get things moving.”

Aemond hesitated. “Are you sure that’s wise? Perhaps we should bring one of the nurses.”

“No,” you insisted, your eyes blazing with determination. “Just you and me. I need to get out of this room.”

Aemond nodded, knowing better than to argue when you were in this state. He helped you to your feet, supporting you as you made your way out of the chamber and into the dimly lit corridors of the Red Keep. The familiar halls were quiet, the stillness broken only by the occasional flicker of torchlight and the distant murmur of guards on patrol.

As you walked, Aemond kept a steadying arm around your waist, his presence a comforting anchor. “What shall we name her?” he asked softly, hoping to distract you from the pain.

“I don’t know,” you admitted, leaning heavily on him. “I haven’t been able to think of anything that feels right.”

“How about Visenya?” Aemond suggested, his voice thoughtful. “After the conqueror queen.”

You shook your head. “That’s a cursed name. Even so, it doesn’t fit. She needs a name that’s isn’t so common.” You continued your slow pace, Aemond offering more suggestions: Rhaella, Alysanne, Naerys. Each name was met with a thoughtful pause, then a gentle shake of your head.

Finally, as you turned a corner, you stopped abruptly. “Aemond, what about Aelora?”

“Aelora,” he repeated, testing the name on his tongue. “Aelora Targaryen. It’s beautiful.”

You smiled faintly, a glimmer of excitement breaking through your exhaustion. “Aelora it is.”

Suddenly, a sharp pain gripped you, and you doubled over with a cry. Aemond’s grip tightened as he steadied you. “What is it?”

A pool of water began to form as it dripped down your leg. “My water just broke,” you gasped, clutching your swollen belly. “Its time now…she likes the name Aelora.” You slightly chuckled in pain.

Panic and excitement surged through Aemond as he helped you back towards your chambers, shouting for the midwives as you neared. The nurses rushed to your side, guiding you back to the bed and preparing for the final stages of labor.

The next few hours were a blur of pain and struggle. You gripped Aemond’s hand tightly, your nails digging into his skin as you fought to bring your daughter into the world. Aemond stayed by your side, whispering words of encouragement and love, his own heart aching to see you in such pain.

“Come on, my love,” he urged softly, brushing his lips against your forehead. “You can do this. She’s almost here.”

“I can’t,” you cried out, tears streaming down your face. “It hurts too much.”

“You can,” he insisted, his voice firm but gentle. “You are the strongest woman I know. Just a little more.”

With one final, agonizing push, a wail filled the room, and your daughter was born. You collapsed back against the pillows, sobbing with relief and exhaustion. Aemond’s eye shone with pride and joy as the midwife placed the tiny, crying bundle into your arms.

“Look, Aemond,” you whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “She’s finally here. Our little Aelora.”

Aemond gazed down at the newborn, his heart swelling with love. He gently touched the baby’s cheek, awed by the miracle in his arms. “She’s perfect,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “You did it, my love. You brought her into the world.”

You held Aelora close, tears of happiness mingling with the sweat on your face. Aemond wrapped his arms around both of you, a rare, genuine smile spreading across his face.

Once the midwives had cleaned and tended to both you and the baby, Aemond and you made your way to your sons’ chambers, eager to introduce them to their baby sister. Aerys and Daeron, roused from their sleep, looked up in wonder as their parents entered with the tiny bundle.

“This is your sister, Aelora,” Aemond said softly, kneeling down to their level. “Say hello.”

Aerys, the elder of the two, reached out a tentative hand to touch his sister’s tiny fingers. “She’s so small,” he whispered in awe.

Daeron, younger but no less curious, leaned in to peer at the baby. “Can we hold her?”

“Of course,” you said, carefully transferring Aelora into Aerys’s waiting arms. The boys’ faces lit up with joy as they cradled their sister, their excitement infectious.

Aemond watched his family with a sense of profound contentment, a rare, unguarded smile gracing his lips. For this moment, all was right in their world. His heart swelled with love and pride, knowing that together, he had a beautiful family. And so, in the heart of the Red Keep, surrounded by the warmth of your family, you both welcomed your daughter into the world. Your hearts full of hope and love for the days to come.

© misswynters ‘24 - don’t modify or steal my writings

banner by: @cafekitsune

[stevie-petey]

episode four: dear billy

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.” “Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed. You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

Summary: steve almost hits lucas with a lamp, you try to trick your boyfriend into a gloomy arrangement, steve and nancy have a Talk, robin suddenly becomes an academic weapon, and max threatens legal action, gets really into hallmark cards, and levitating. all in that order.

Rating: general, some swearing

Warnings: swearing, fem!reader, use of y/n, slight suicidal thoughts if u squint

Words: 11.7k

Before you swing in: hey gang !!! im back, wrote this severely hungover, and ive never been more excited to share a chapter with yall. dear billy is my favorite ep from season 4, the ending haunts me, so i hope i can haunt yall too <333 enjoy !

–

Max won’t wake up.

Your fingers grip harshly on her shoulders as you shake her. Her eyes remain vacant. There isn’t any life within them. “Max, wake up, please.”

Dustin grabs your arm, he’s never seen you so broken. “Y/N, you have to tell us what’s going on.”

“It’s–” your eyes sting with tears. The metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. You think you’ve bitten your tongue. “I-I can’t.”

You’ve forgotten how to speak, how to say anything other than Max’s name as you plead with her to come back to you. 

Steve’s hand finds your other arm. He’s trying to talk to you, telling you to steady your breathing. He tells you that you’re having a panic attack. He’s worried you’ll hurt Max or even yourself if you continue to thrash with blind fear. 

“Y/N, angel, I need you to listen to me, alright?” Steve’s breath hits your face, but you refuse to let go of Max. “We can’t help her if you’re panicking–” Suddenly, after an agonizing minute, Max breaks out of her trance. The sound of her sharp inhale echoes off the office walls. Immediately she collapses into your arms, she’s crying and hiccuping uneven breaths. 

“Y/N,” she shakes against you, you pull her even tighter into your chest. Her hands grab at your arms, your waist, anywhere they can reach. Almost as if she’s afraid you aren’t real. “Am I-am I awake?”

Your nose presses against her red hair, your arms tremble from how tightly you hold her. “You’re awake, this is real.” 

Dustin kneels next to you and Max. His tone is gentle, his eyes fill with concern. “Why wouldn’t any of this be real?”

Max pulls her face away from your body, her eyes look up at you. She’s looking for the answers you don’t have. Her eyes are still frightened, wild with fear. Her body stands on edge. Her spine stiff, her skin cold. Placing a soft hand over hers, you answer for her. “She had a vision.”

Steve’s breathing stutters, Dustin lets out a quiet curse. Max slowly starts to remove herself from you, although her hand never leaves yours. She stands up, albeit with some difficulty, and she tries to wipe away her tears. “I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”

“That’s okay,” you murmur to her, easing her distress. You feel as if you’re talking to an injured animal. “Let’s start with telling us what you saw. Can you do that?”

Max jerks her head, nodding. With Steve’s help, she’s able to take uncertain steps out of the office. She quietly instructs him on where to guide her. He’s careful with her, he takes his time helping her. Dustin walks next to you, his own arm extended towards you to help, but you gently decline him. 

At the end of the hallway, Max points her flashlight against the wall. “Here.”

“What was here?” Steve asks.

“A grandfather clock. It was ticking, over and over, but it,” her voice catches on fresh tears. “It isn’t here.”

Dustin looks at you, raising his eyebrows to silently ask you if you understand what Max is saying. You shake your head. There was nothing about a grandfather clock in the files you read, but it’s a detail that you can’t overlook. There has to be a reason she saw it.

Doors burst open behind you, disrupting the quiet of the night. You spin around in alarm, hand finding your knives, but you relax when you recognize the squeak of Robin’s sneakers and the click of Nancy’s heels. 

“What’s going on?” Nancy takes in the scene before her. You’re all standing against the wall, flashlights illuminating it. Fresh tears stain your face and Max’s. 

“Max, she…” Dustin sighs. He hates not having all the answers. There’s an unease that comes with not knowing. He’s spent his entire life trying to outrun it. “She saw something. A grandfather clock, I guess.”

“It was here. Right here,” Max insists, frustration in her voice.

Nancy tilts her head. “A grandfather clock?”

“It was so real.” 

You step closer to Max, your hand finding her shoulder once more. She doesn’t have to explain anything else. It’s clearly hurting her too much to do so. “Hey, you don’t have to give us all the details–”

“When I got closer, suddenly I just…” She doesn’t look at you, doesn’t listen. “I woke up.”

“It was like she was in a-a trance or something.” Dustin mumbles, before he remembers something. “It was exactly what Eddie said happened to Chrissy.”

Unease settles over the group. Eddie had been telling the truth. If there was any doubt remaining of his innocence, there’s none left now. Slowly, you watch as everyone pieces together what you and Max already know. One by one, the light in their eyes dims; Steve’s finds yours. 

The look in his eyes shatters you. The brown is coated with anguish, he’s already mourning you. He doesn’t like where this is going.

You look away. 

Max turns, her breathing quickens. Dried tears still mark her face. She looks at you, silently asking how much she should tell the others. You’re a part of this, too. It isn’t just her life in their hands. She’s giving you the choice to run, to pretend that everything is fine. To continue what you’ve been doing since senior year started. 

She wouldn’t blame you, and you know this. 

But you can’t run. Not this time. Not when Max needs you, not if somehow you can figure out a way to make sure that she survives. 

You nod at Max. 

She inhales, prepares for impact. “That’s not even the bad part.”

– 

Everyone crowds around Ms. Kelly’s office. No one dares to turn the light on. A part of you wonders if this is done consciously, if the light would make everything more real. 

“Fred and Chrissy, they both came to Ms. Kelly for help.” Max explains to Robin and Nancy, informing them of what you found. Nancy reads over the files, Robin’s eyes don’t leave your body. “Uh, they both were having headaches, bad headaches that just wouldn’t go away. And then…”

“The nightmares.” You continue, gaze not meeting anyone. You stare at the wall ahead of you. There isn’t any emotion in your voice. “Trouble falling asleep, staying asleep.”

Steve tries to get you to look at him. He remembers all the late night phone calls. He’d noticed you wince earlier in the trailer park, how you rubbed your temples and told him it was nothing. His mouth goes dry with every little detail he once dismissed. 

“And then they started seeing things,” Max doesn’t look at anyone either. Her voice shakes, she tries to hide the tears that don’t seem to go away. You grab her hand. It’s the only indication that you’re still with her, still listening. “Bad things, from their past.”

Dustin shifts uncomfortably. Last week he’d woken up to you screaming Billy’s name. He had ignored it. 

“These visions, they just kept getting worse and worse, until eventually…” Max pauses, the words refuse to come out. Her body freezes up, her stomach clenches. 

“Max,” you whisper, only it’s spoken as a promise. As a reassurance. 

She inhales again, squeezes your hand so tight that it cuts off the circulation, but you don’t let go of her. “Until eventually… everything ended.” 

Robin sees your hand in Max’s. She notes the way it’s held with an understanding, not with a condolence. She swallows. “Vecna’s curse.”

“Chrissy’s headaches started a week ago. Fred’s six days ago.” The air in the room builds into a dull roar. No one moves. Time stills. Max takes another shaky breath. Thunder has sounded, lightning is about to strike. “I’ve been having them for five days.”

Even though you knew what she was going to say, hearing the words come out of Max’s mouth chokes you. The panic from earlier returns. The frantic need to protect her, to pull her into your arms and never let go of her. 

“My headaches started two days ago,” your voice is barely above a whisper. It feels more like a confession of a sin, rather than a confession of weakness. “The night of Lucas’ game.”

The moment you’ve revealed this, Steve and Dustin simultaneously whip their heads up to look at you. Panic shadows their faces, the two of them rush towards you and nearly topple over the other to get to you. 

“No, something isn’t right.” Steve’s in denial. He doesn’t want to believe it. Neither do you. 

Dustin grabs your face, he pulls it down so he can get a better look at your eyes. “You could be dehydrated, or-or tired. Headaches are caused by a lot of things. You’re pale, you’re probably sick and this is all just conspiracy bullshit and–”

“Dustin,” you loosen his grip on you, trying your best to sound as gentle as you can. “You know it isn’t conspiracy bullshit.” His eyes wet with tears, for once in your life you don’t know how to protect him. You choke on your own tears again, breaking. “I-I’m fine, alright? We need to focus on Max right now, she’s the one who had the vision.”

“But you have all the symptoms, too!” Steve exclaims, too scared to look away from you. He can’t believe you’re saying this. He’s always known how selfless you are, but you’re in danger. You could die. Why don’t you care?

Max angrily wipes at her face. She hates that you’re already putting her ahead of yourself. She doesn’t deserve the kindness, the sacrifices you’re already making. “Look, we don’t know how much time we have to argue about this. All we know is that for Fred and Chrissy, they both died less than 24 hours after their first vision, and I just saw that goddamn clock.”

“Max,” you break away from your brother and try to reach for the girl, but she’s crying again and anger clouds her vision. “Whatever you’re thinking, I promise that–”

“I’m going to die tomorrow, Y/N!” She cries out, too tired and devastated for your reassurance. 

You tug at her jacket. “You’re not dying tomorrow.”

None of this is fair. Max is too young, she’s been through too much, she’s survived too much to be manipulated like this. To have her life taken away too easily. It should’ve been you. Vecna should’ve targeted you instead of Max. He should’ve shown you the vision, cursed you before her.

Anything to keep Max alive. 

She’s about to argue with you, she knows what you’re implying, but a creak down the hall alerts you that there’s something nearby. Everyone turns towards the source of the sound, the heightened energy in the room leaves you all on edge. 

“Stay here,” Steve instructs the group, already stalking towards the door to find where the sound came from. 

You roll your eyes at him, grabbing his arm before he can leave. He’s an idiot if he thinks you won’t follow after him, fight by his side. “We’re both going.” 

Steve narrows his eyes but doesn’t argue. Instead, he nods reluctantly and points towards your knives. Understanding, you flick your wrist and extend the blades. He nods, satisfied, before he grabs a lamp from the corner and holds it up with pride. The lamp clatters loudly, it’s a stupid weapon, but you suppose it’ll have to do.

Together, the two of you slowly exit the room and creep into the hallway. The school is terrifying at night, the empty halls eerie. You walk side by side while the others trail quietly behind. The sound of footsteps rush towards you, getting louder and louder with every step.

Steve looks at you, raising his lamp to his head, and you raise your knives. You plant your feet on the ground, you brace for whatever is about to round the corner. 

A figure emerges, screaming when it nearly runs into you and Steve. The person screeches, cowering, and your knives nearly come down upon a frightened Lucas. Your arm freezes, scream dying in your throat when you realize there isn’t any danger. “Jesus fuck, Sinclair!”

The boy holds his hands up in surrender. “It’s me!”

Steve clutches his chest, pressed against you after jumping into your arms when Lucas appeared. It hadn’t been his manliest moment, he’ll admit. “What’s wrong with you?”

“I’m sorry,” Lucas pants, and it’s then that you notice he’s drenched in sweat.

“I nearly stabbed you!” You exclaim, feeling horrendously guilty.

Steve sputters. “Even more importantly, I could’ve taken you out with this lamp!”

“Oh, sure. The lamp definitely would’ve helped.” You mutter sarcastically, but Steve is too busy still trying to steady his heartbeat to care.

Lucas apologizes again, hunched over his knees as he tries to catch his breath. “I was biking for eight miles.” He holds a finger up, winces in pain. “Give me a second. Shit.”

Everyone looks at each other, bewildered by Lucas’ sudden appearance. Your worry grows, he’d mentioned earlier how there was something bad happening, you’d heard Jason over the radio. Cautiously you step towards him. “Please tell me you biked eight miles for fun.”

Lucas shakes his head. “We’ve got a code red.”

Your heart drops. “It’s Jason, isn’t it?”

“How do you always do that?” He wheezes, somehow still surprised when you figure everything out first. It’s what you’ve always done. He’s never been able to hide anything from you. Seeing your pointed look to cut to the chase, Lucas turns to your brother. “Dustin, she’s right. I’ve been with Jason, Patrick, and Andy, and they’ve gone totally off the rails.”

He explains the basketball team’s plan to hunt Eddie down and make him pay for what they think he did to Chrissy. When Lucas mentions how Jason is looking for Dustin now because he’s in Hellfire, all you see is red. 

“I’ll kill him,” you hiss, fingers scratching over the engraving on your knife hilt. An old nickname resides there, a remnant from an old man who told you to use the weapon with love. 

“Y/N, while I’m flattered you’d kill for me, we kinda have bigger problems than Jason now.” Dustin says nervously, turning towards Max. The reminder stabs at your skin, reignites the bitterness and remorse.

Lucas looks between you and the girl, finally realizing how quiet everyone else has been. His head turns to you for some sort of explanation, it’s instinctual within him now to go to you for advice, solace and comfort. It’s what he’s grown up doing.

Except for the first time in Lucas’ life, your eyes don’t meet his.

Max stands apart from everyone. Her eyes don’t meet his, either.

Lucas had biked all this way to save his friends. He thought the biggest monster he’d have to face was Jason and the team. He didn’t think he’d be walking into the final hours of the two girls he loves more than anything. 

– 

Nancy offers you and Max her house to stay in. Neither of you can stomach the thought of going home, facing your mothers with the knowledge that they might lose their daughters soon. 

Dustin, Steve, and Robin refuse to leave your side. Lucas refuses to leave Max’s.

The seven of you stand awkwardly in the Wheeler’s kitchen as Nancy asks her mother permission to have you all spend the night. Her mothers greets you all kindly as she always does, albeit confused as to why half of Hawkins is spending the night at her house. “I mean, do we have the room, Nance?”

“We’ll all fit in the basement.” Nancy reassures. “We just figured it’s safer this way, sticking together.”

Mrs. Wheeler coos with sentiment and relaxes her shoulders. “Oh, alright. It’s scary, what’s happening out there right now. I understand.”

You give a weak smile to her. “We really appreciate your hospitality, Mrs. Wheeler.”

She smiles back at you and gently ushers everyone downstairs. As you descend the steps, you realize that she’s right. It’ll be a tight fit with everyone, the couch is barely large enough to comfortably sit three people. 

But the smell of the basement is familiar, earthy and safe. It’s been a long time since you’ve been down here. You used to spend countless nights in the basement ever since you were twelve. The boys always insisted you join their campaigns. You’d always drag Jonathan with you. There’s so much laughter within these walls, tears and the hardships of growing up. 

“Where are we all gonna fit?” Dustin sits down on the couch, eyeing the space around him.

Conversation breaks out as the sleeping arrangements are assigned. It’s nearly a heated debate, no one wants to be separated from you and Max. The girl stands off in the corner, barely listening, and you can’t help but do the same. As Dustin and Robin bicker over who gets to sleep on the couch, you use the distraction as an opportunity to slip away upstairs. 

The night air is cool against your cheeks as you sit on the Wheeler’s porch. The quiet is welcomed, your body aches with the need to have a moment to yourself. You don’t know how late it is, you wonder if your mother is asleep right now. Dustin had called her when you arrived at the Wheeler’s. He had given her the same excuse you’d given Mrs. Wheeler about wanting to stick together in a group. 

You wonder if your death will be what finally breaks your mother. The heartbreak of the divorce had weakened her, the death of her daughter would kill her. But Dustin will need his mother; he can’t grieve you alone.

With everything going on, all the revelations and despair, you haven’t had the time to properly come to terms with what’s happening; the weight of it sits deep within your chest.

The target on Max, on you. 

Steve finds you on the porch with your knees curled into your chest, trying to make yourself as small as possible. His heart tightens at the sight. Slowly, he sits down next to you. The warmth of his body simmers your skin, his presence quells the dull roar inside you. 

Your head falls against his shoulder. It’s quiet between you. All there seems to be these days between you and Steve is silence.

Fireflies flicker in the distance. You close your eyes, pretending they’re shooting stars, and wish for the end to be kind to you. 

“Remember the last time we were on the Wheeler’s porch together?” Steve whispers into the quiet of the night. You shake your head against him. He grabs your hand, plays with your fingers as he watches the fireflies. “Almost four years ago I found you here while I was looking for Nance. You’d been looking for Jonathan, but you tried lying about it.”

You manage a small laugh, remembering faintly the night he’s referring to. Hearing the laugh, Steve feels just a little bit stronger, more grounded. He continues. “You’ve never been a very good liar.”

“No,” you agree.

“That night… well, it was awful.” Faint bitterness leaks into Steve’s words. He remembers how hurt he’d been, finding Nancy wrapped around Jonathan. His girl underneath the creep’s arm. He remembers the anger that quickly followed, how heavily it consumed him. “Thought I’d been cheated on, and it was a pretty shitty feeling.”

Your finger skims over his knuckles. There’s a faint scar on them from his fight with Jonathan. You remember the anger from that night, too. The violence that followed it. You’re not sure why Steve’s is telling you all of this, though. 

“Nancy never did cheat on you, you know.” You softly remind him.

Steve chuckles, pulls you closer into his side. “I know that now. But that night, it just-it really fucking hurt, you know? Thought I’d never feel anything shittier, that my night couldn’t get any worse. But then… I saw your face.”

He swallows, shivers at the feeling of your fingers tracing his scars. “When I saw you standing there, all alone, the way your face fell when I told you about Jonathan,” Steve shakes his head. “The heartbreak on your face, that fact that I couldn’t do anything to protect you from it. That’s what hurt me the most.”

A heartbeat of silence, it almost deafens you, before he finally says, “And it’s why I won’t let anything else happen to you.” 

Your heart constricts at Steve’s promise. You know he means it, that he’ll die defending his oath, and that’s what terrifies you the most out of everything that’s happened tonight. 

Steve and Dustin will do whatever they can to keep you safe. They don’t want to lose you, they can’t lose you. They’ll burn themselves up if it means you’ll survive, but you don’t want them to. You don’t want any of this. 

All you want is for Max to survive. 

“Steve,” your head lifts up, he turns to look at you. Meeting his eyes, all you see within the brown is grief. It’s a funny thing, feeling someone’s grief for you within their gaze; it burns. “You have to protect Max.”

“Y/N–”

“No, you-you have to promise me, alright?” Your hand rests against Steve’s chest, he tries to cave into you but you won’t allow him any closer. Not like this, not when you need him to make a promise you know he can’t keep. 

Steve presses his head against yours and he breathes you in. He’s shaking against you. “I don’t…. I don’t know what you want from me.” He’d do anything for you. Whatever you ask of him, he’ll do it. 

“Promise me that if it–” your breath catches, your lips quiver with hesitancy. It isn’t fair, none of this is fucking fair. “Promise me that if it comes down to me or Max, you’ll choose her.”

Steve’s body retracts from yours as if he’s been stung. His heart is racing, a roar deafens his ears. He can’t breathe, his eyes can’t leave yours, he doesn’t know what to do. You’ve already given up. You’ve already decided to give your life in exchange for Max’s, and Steve doesn’t know what to do.

He’s never been able to say no to you. 

“Angel,” the cry is so soft, so heartbroken, that for a moment your resolve slips. You almost reach towards Steve, caress his cheek and apologize over and over again for making him do this. Your lips can feel his skin against them, but you don’t press against it; you don’t allow yourself to.

“Please,” You’re crying. The tears fall freely down your face, too tired to stop them. All day you’ve held them in, put up a front for your brother and Max. They can’t know how terrified you are. They need you, they can’t see you like this, but here, alone with Steve, you finally break. 

Seeing your tears, Steve finally wraps his arms around your body and just holds you. You cry for a long, long time. Everything comes out, then. The anger, always within you, that threatens to boil over, the heartbreak of losing Jonathan, the guilt of leaving Dustin behind soon, how the guilt intensifies when you think about letting Max die instead. 

You’ve been here before. 

“I’m choosing you, Y/N.” Steve whispers, lips pressed softly against your hair. Your body stiffens, he feels it, but he holds you tighter instead. “I’ll always choose you.”

“Steve…”

“Please don’t make me say no to you.” He pulls away, grabs your face and makes you look at him. You’re pale, tears wet your lovely face, and all Steve wants to do is fall asleep with you forever. He strokes the crest of your eyebrow, kisses your forehead. “Please don’t make me lose you.”

There’s more Steve wants to say. He wants to refuse you, he wants to scream, he wants to demand an explanation from you. There’s a mark on you that he would give anything to erase. How could you possibly think Steve could ever make a promise like that? To agree to let you die, as if your life isn’t worth everything to him.

The anger in Steve’s eyes startle you. His voice is frail, his body weak, but his eyes are alive with a deep fury as he looks at you. Pleads with you. The anger closes your throat, renders you speechless. 

You know that there’s nothing you can say that will change Steve’s mind. You’ve come to a stalemate. A tie between two ends of desperate halves. 

“I’m tired,” your voice cracks. It’s the closest you’ll come to admitting anything else. Another headache is forming, all you want to do is sleep in Steve’s arms. “Can we go to bed, please?”

I don’t want to fight anymore. 

Steve can see the weight of exhaustion that crushes you, and he sighs, nodding. “Yeah, angel. Whatever you want. I convinced Robin to give us the couch.”

I’ll do whatever you want, as long as I get to hold you in the end.

You nod back at him. The unspoken words settle between you, they linger in the shadows, but for tonight they’re put to rest. Lifting your arms up, you silently demand to be carried, and Steve can’t help but laugh softly. He stands up, bends down to scoop you up, and carries you back inside the Wheeler home. 

The basement couch is small, the two of you hardly fit, but neither of you mind. It’s an excuse to be as close as possible, a reason to tuck your chin into the crevice of Steve’s neck, absolving him to wrap his arms around you, as if he can shield you from the horrors that will come.

– 

Steve wakes up to whispering.

His eyes blearily open, his body twists in a sleepy haze. He’d been having a good dream. You were in it, you were laughing in his ear. It’d been a warm, spring day. Just the two of you. But he’s awake now, and when he looks down he finds you sound asleep on his chest. 

“Do you really think…?” Another whisper, and Steve squints against the dark to figure out who it is. Lucas and Dustin are snoring together on the ground. Max is in the armchair, her small frame wrapped around the cushioning. 

“I don’t know,” a different voice whispers, and this time Steve thinks it’s Robin. The dim lighting muddles away and he can see the outline of her nose. He thinks she’s talking to Nancy, she’s the only other person who could be awake right now. “But it’s Y/N, I-I’m worried, you know?”

Nancy nods. “She wouldn’t–” She pauses, sensing that someone is listening. Suddenly Steve can feel her eyes land on him. He’s been caught. 

Clearing her throat, Nancy excuses herself from Robin and walks towards the couch. She stops just out of Steve’s reach. He doesn’t move, his arms don’t leave your body. For a moment they stare at one another. Robin busies herself in the corner, leaving the two of them alone. 

Steve doesn’t remember the last time he was alone with Nancy. Her presence makes him uncomfortable, the history between them heavy. He still holds so much admiration and love for the girl, he always will, but he doesn’t know what to do with all the excess love now that they aren’t together. They never really got the chance to be friends, and it’s something Steve regrets every day.

He’s sure they would’ve been the best of friends. Maybe similar to you and Jonathan. 

The thought startles Steve, almost as much as the question that falls from Nancy’s pink lips. “How are you dealing with, you know…?” 

She motions softly towards you, still asleep. Your head is tucked against Steve’s neck and your breathing is steady. He rubs the length of your spine. He isn’t sure what to say to Nancy. How to answer her question in a way that won’t betray your trust. He knows what you’ve told him tonight was meant only for his ears.

But Steve is terrified of what you’ve revealed to him. 

“She wants us to focus on Max.” He finally whispers, the confession clings to his lips in deceit. “Not… not on her.”

Nancy nods, as if she was expecting Steve to say this. Her eyes harden slightly, though the crease between her brows soften with understanding. “Y/N already decided who we’ll save, hasn’t she?”

Steve swallows, he avoids her gaze. It’s all the confirmation Nancy needs. She nods again, she stares down at you and is struck by how young you look in the moonlight. She’s older than you by only a few months, and yet tonight Nancy feels as if there’s years that stretch between you. 

“She’ll try to sacrifice herself.” It isn’t a question, though Nancy still pauses as if to give Steve a moment to respond. They both know the answer. Anyone who has ever known you would know the answer. When Steve doesn’t say anything, she sighs. “I’m not surprised.”

You’ve always been so devoted to the ones you love. 

Nancy remembers the day she met you, how shy she’d been back then. There was a hardness within you, when you first moved to Hawkins, though Nancy never blamed you. Being twelve is difficult, and she saw the softness that was underneath the hard exterior that would one day resurface. 

When Mike was ten, a year after you entered his life, he broke his arm riding his bike. It’d been raining and his wheel caught on the curb. Nancy hadn’t been home at the time, spending the day at Barb’s. When she returned home to find you diligently wrapping his cast with plastic bags so that he could shower, Nancy was almost angry to see you taking such tender care of her brother. It was supposed to be her job. 

But the anger was gone the moment you smiled up at Nancy and asked if she’d like to help. You’d included her with such ease, made room for her where Nancy had thought there was none. 

For years this pattern followed. The boys adored you, you quickly became their favorite sibling out of the party. Often Nancy would find you in her basement, surrounded by the boys as you joined their campaigns or delivered them the cookies they always fought over. 

If one of them was sick, you’d spend hours by their side, spoon feeding them medicine. When Lucas chipped his front tooth, you were the first to react and call his parents to pick him up. When Will spilled water all over a drawing he’d spent weeks on, you helped him recreate the art piece. It’d taken you hours, but you never once complained. When Dustin lost his favorite model rocket, you biked two hours to find him a replacement. 

Over and over again you gave everything to everyone you’ve ever met. 

“She’s always been selfless. It’s what I admire the most about her.” Nancy says delicately. It’s the truth. For years she’s watched you, always at a distance. She’s never understood how you do it, how you can give so much of yourself to others without any cost. “But sometimes, I-I hate the selflessness as well.”

Because the cost has come; the cost will be your life for Max’s. 

Steve brushes a strand of hair from your face. Sometimes he hates how selfless you are, too. “I can’t lose her, Nance.”

The pained words litter papercuts into Nancy’s skin. She watches the way Steve’s fingers skim your face with gentle passivity. She’s never seen him so soft with anyone, not even when he was with her. The thought makes her stomach twist. 

Jonathan is soft with Nancy, he always has been. For the first time since he’s moved, she’s happy he’s in California. She doesn’t know what she’d do if he were here in Hawkins, marked by some creature in the Upside Down that wants to kill him. 

“I’m sorry,” Nancy breathes out. She can’t imagine what Steve’s going through, all the fear and guilt that must burden him. She wishes she could say something else, anything else, but what more can Nancy say? You could die soon. None of it is fair. 

Steve is quiet. He still doesn’t look at Nancy, he hardly even acknowledges her presence. She knows he doesn’t do this with malice. He’s overwhelmed, mourning someone who is still alive. Figuring he needs some space, Nancy tries to leave. “I’m sure you’re exhausted, I’m sorry Robin and I woke you up. Go back to sleep–

“I’d follow her to the end of the world if she asked me to.” Steve says, stroking your hair. “Even if that means fighting some asshole in the Upside Down, I will.”

The corners of Nancy’s mouth turn upwards, a small smile that she doesn’t bother to hide. “I’m sure we’ll figure it out, without going to the Upside Down. Stick to our own universe. I’m sure Y/N would agree with me.”

“Yeah,” Steve chuckles, careful not to disturb you. “I’m sure she would.”

You stir in your sleep. Although you don’t wake up, Steve hums softly. It’s a melodic tune, one Nancy has never heard before, but he does it without thinking. His body eases into the song, your body relaxes again. 

“There you go,” he whispers into your ear, tightening his arms around you as you drift back to sleep. It’s an intimate moment, too intimate to watch. Nancy takes it as her cue to leave. 

“Goodnight, Steve.”

He smiles up at her, rests his head against yours. “Goodnight, Nance.”

– 

Dustin forgets how different he and Steve are. 

While he thinks the guy is cool and all, and he can’t deny how happy he makes you, Dustin could really do without Steve’s obsessive worrying. He’s constantly stressed about something, regardless of the situation. He’s all heart, always carried away by his instincts. Dustin is the opposite, he’s logical and uses reasoning to figure things out. 

Which means that all morning Dustin has been reading the newspaper printings that Nancy found. He’s been quietly taking notes on Victor Creel ever since the sun came up. He knows that if he does all the research, read in between the lines, that he’ll be able to save you. Dustin refuses to let you or Max die; he’s always been able to crack a complex problem. 

Meanwhile, all Steve has done is pace the floor, mumbling to himself, for hours. 

It’s driving Dustin insane. 

“It’s pretty straightforward.” He says to Steve, who still isn’t able to understand where Victor Creel falls into all of this. “Everyone Vecna has cursed has died, except for this old Victor Creel dude Nancy found. He’s the only known survivor; if anyone knows how to beat this curse, it’s him.”

“Okay, I seriously don’t like talking about the whole ‘death’ part,” Steve rubs his eyes. He hates thinking about it, he hates how apathetic you were last night about sacrificing yourself. When you woke up this morning, you didn’t mention last night to him. Instead, you’d strayed towards Max and haven’t left her side since. “There being only one known survivor really doesn’t make me feel any better about Max and Y/N being cursed.”

He should be doing more. Steve knows he can do better, that he can find something if he just tries harder. Then, skimming the newspaper lines again, his eyebrows draw in. “Which is even assuming Victor was cursed. How can Vecna have even existed back in the ‘50s? It doesn’t make any sense.”

There’s too many unknowns. They drown Steve and pierce his skin. 

Dustin explains his theory about how El hadn’t really created the Upside Down but instead opened a gate to it. “I wouldn't be surprised if it predated the dinosaurs.” 

Steve scoffs and Lucas drops his own print of the newspaper back onto the couch. “But if there wasn’t a gate in the ‘50s, how did Vecna get through?”

“And how is he getting through now?” Steve adds, nodding at the teen.

“And why now?”

“And why then?” Steve’s arms drop to his side, he’s getting worked up again. Nothing adds up. “Just pops out in the ‘50s, kills one family, and then just disappears, only to return 30 years later and start killing random teens? Targeting my girlfriend?” 

Dustin drops his head into his hands. His own head hurts, Steve admittedly brought up some good points. Still, he also doesn’t like the idea of Vecna marking you. “She’s my sister, you know. I could be an only child soon.”

“And yet you’re annoyingly calm about all of this,” sitting down, Steve crosses his legs and sends a pointed look Dustin’s way. “A little humility now and then wouldn’t hurt you.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. Next time my sister gets cursed by some demonic being, I’ll sob on my hands and knees and get absolutely nothing done like you are!” 

Lucas shoves Dustin’s shoulder and motions over towards the corner desk where you and Max sit. “Would you two shut up? They’re gonna hear you.”

Dustin and Steve turn to where Lucas points, the anger in them dies out. All morning you’ve been with Max at the desk. The girl furiously scribbles on paper while you sit next to her, silent. 

Max hasn’t said anything for hours, but she also hasn’t asked you to leave her alone. You think she wants you close to her just as much as you want her close to you. The presence of the other is calming, even if you can’t bring yourself to ask what Max is writing. You’re afraid that you already know. 

“Did they sleep?” Dustin mumbles, noticing the slouch in your posture and the bags underneath your eyes. 

Lucas winces. “I mean, would you?”

“Y/N slept for a little bit last night, but…” Steve looks down at his hands. He’d woken up to you having a nightmare. It’d taken him nearly five minutes to calm you down afterwards. “It wasn’t enough.”

All three boys stare at you and Max. They don’t know what to do, they’ve never had to handle a loss like this before. A silence falls over them, but it’s soon broken by the sound of Nancy’s heels running down the stairs as Robin follows. 

“Okay, so.” She beams, so does Robin, and for a moment Steve is foolish enough to have hope. “We have a plan.”

– 

As always, Nancy’s plan is brilliant. It’s also extremely illegal, but you’ve come to accept this about the girl. You flit through the fake transcripts she’s presented you. “These are impressive, they look so real.”

Robin taps your nose. “Thank Nancy’s newspaper minions.”

“You think they could make me one?” You ask, eying the high GPA Nancy and Robin allegedly have and their years of research expertise. “Might need it for grad school.”

“Why would you even need one? Nance and I are now rock-star psychology students at Notre Dame. We can just write you a killer recommendation letter as Ruth and Rose.”

You tilt your head at Nancy, a teasing smile on your face. “I take it you’re Ruth, huh?” She shrugs, smiling as well. Your eyes catch on the area of research on the transcripts, and you snort. “Schizophrenia? Y’all couldn’t come up with something less on the nose?”

“You were asleep and it was all we could think of.” Nancy rolls her eyes at you and clears her throat, finally continuing with her explanation. “Anyways, we called Pennhurst Asylum and told them we’d like to speak with Creel for a thesis we’re co-writing on paranoid schizophrenics–”

“And I’m sure they denied you.” Crossing your arms, you lean against the seat you share with Steve. When Robin tells you that they did, you snort. “I would’ve warned you had I known. No way would an asylum let two random undergrads speak with a patient. It violates, like, every patient privacy law there is.”

Nancy crosses her own arms and smirks at you. “True, but we were able to land a three o’clock with the director.”

“I don’t know why I ever doubt you.” You amend, and Nancy laughs. Robin finishes explaining the plan and how they’ll try to charm the director to let them see Creel. Your eyes wander towards Max, who still sits at the desk as she writes. Sighing, you nod at Nancy. “It’s a risky plan that relies heavily on luck, but I think it’s worth it if it means we can get rid of Max’s curse.”

“And yours,” Nancy reminds you gently. 

You don’t look at her, pretending not to have heard. An awkward silence falls upon the group. Steve looks to Dustin for help, but the kid can only shrug. Not wanting to burn through the small hope he’s feeling, Steve clears his throat. “Well, we’ve been doing our Victor Creel homework and, um. Have some questions of our own.”

“Lots of questions.” Lucas echoes. 

Nancy sighs. “So do we. Hopefully Victor has the answers.”

“Maybe I can help,” you offer, looking between Nancy and Robin. “I mean, I’m kinda the only one here who understands psychology. I doubt either of you even know what the DSM stands for.”

Robin sticks her tongue out at you. “Of course I know what it stands it, obviously it’s the diagnosed s’many m’people.” 

You throw a pen at the girl and she dodges, giggling. While the two of you bicker, Steve looks through the fake transcripts and quickly realizes something. “Wait a second, there’s only two in here. Where’s mine?”

Nancy squirms in her seat and avoids his eyes; Robin does the same. You tilt your head at Steve and narrow your own eyes. He recoils slightly, sensing that he’s upset you somehow. Before an argument can arise, Nancy claps her hands and stands up suddenly.

“Alright, I guess that’s settled, then.”

“No, no way is anything settled.” Steve stands up too, now following Nancy as she tries to flee upstairs. They’re gone within seconds, leaving you and Robin alone with the kids. 

Picking at your nails, you share a weary look with Robin. “Is it even worth following?”

“Probably not,” she knocks her shoulder against yours and motions for you to start walking up the basement steps. “But Steve will talk Nancy’s ears off if we don’t intervene.”

Knowing she’s right, you tell Dustin and the others to stay in the basement while you try to talk some sense into your boyfriend. The boys snicker at this, though Max is still writing in the corner. Following Robin upstairs, you can hear Steve’s whining long before you get to Nancy’s room.

“Nancy, you’re out of your mind if you think I’m babysitting, again.” 

You try really hard not to take offense to this. Steve is being exceptionally difficult this morning and you’re slightly pissed off that he seems so butthurt over Nancy not wanting him to tag along. You’re the one who is cursed and in danger. You need Steve right now. Not her.

Faintly, in the back of your mind you wonder if all this anger within you has something to do with Vecna. The jealous vitriol is foreign, the insecurity that follows it is disarming. You’ve been hurt before, you’ve felt anger before, but never like this.

“Nice to know that you view staying with your endangered girlfriend as babysitting, Steve.” You say as you walk through Nancy’s doorway, highly unamused. 

He spins around and nearly chokes when he sees you. “Okay, no. That’s not at all how I meant. I-I just mean–”

“Oh my God,” Robin bursts into the room and immediately rushes towards something on the wall. “You have a Tom Cruise poster!” She admires it for a moment before realizing that this is Nancy’s room, and her interest grows. With a smirk, she turns to the girl. “Wait, you have a Tom Cruise poster. 

“That’s-old!” Nancy digs through her closet, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

You walk over to the poster and nod appreciatively at it. “Hey, Tom Cruise is pretty. I don’t blame you.”

“Hey!” Steve waves his hands in the air, offended and completely overwhelmed.

You shrug at him. “You’re the one who wants me and Max to die, so I get to call an actor hot.”

“I never said that!” He shrieks, hands finding his hair as he tugs harshly at it. Everything is coming out wrong. Nothing he does is ever right. Isn’t that what his father always tells him? 

Panicked, Steve rushes towards you and grabs your hands. His eyes plead with you. “Angel, you gotta believe me, alright? I-I just don’t want to stand around while you’re in danger. I have to do something, and-and maybe I can be helpful with this asylum director dude, right?”

“Steve…” But he doesn’t hear you. 

“I don’t know, I could turn my-my charm on,” he rambles on, pulling you close and closer as he talks. “Just, please don’t think I want to leave you. God, I don’t. But I’m going crazy without answers and I–”

“Honey,” even though Nancy and Robin are watching, you grab the back of Steve’s neck and pull his head down into your neck. Your other hand wraps around his body, hugging him as tightly as you can. He’s spiraling, overthinking everything. “Breathe with me. Can you do that?”

He nods weakly, nose pressed to your skin. In and out he breathes with you. With every breath he exhales, your anger towards him dims. Steve had only been trying to help. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do for you; help you. 

“Now,” you gently pull away after his breathing has steadied. “While you’re charming, I doubt your charm will be what Nancy and Robin need.”

“Ouch,” he quietly says, a hint of laughter in his voice. 

Nancy tries to ease any remaining tension. “She’s right, Steve. I did a little digging last night, and it turns out this Dr. Hatch is a distinguished fellow of the American Psychiatric Association and a Harvard visiting scholar… If anything, we could use Y/N’s charm more.”

“Normally I’d love to win someone like Dr. Hatch over.” You admit, biting your lip. The man sounds incredible. You’d kill to meet him, to actually speak to someone so distinguished in the psychology field. There’s so many questions you have, hundreds of journals and published papers you’d love to ask him about. 

Then you remember Max’s messy handwriting and the exhaustion in her eyes. The tear marks on her face, how she hadn’t wanted you to leave her side all morning. You can’t possibly leave her right now.

“But I have to stay with Max.” 

Robin, Steve, and Nancy all look at one another. Their expressions are similar, yet unreadable. They’re in some unspoken agreement that you aren’t a part of. Your skin warms with discomfort. Without meaning to, you look towards Steve and silently beg him to stay with you. 

Everything is weird and scary and you’ve been marked by some goddamn monster from the Upside Down who wants you and Max to die. Every bone inside you leaks cortisol and your body drips acid terror. 

Yet the only thing you want right now is for Steve to be here, next to you, holding your hand through it all. 

“If you’re staying, I’m staying.” He finally says, promising you. 

You release the breath you’d been holding. He exhales with you and your hand finds his. Lacing your fingers together, the pounding in your head quiets. 

“Not to ruin this lovely moment, but there’s a tiny ballerina in here.” Robin opens a jewelry box she found and it begins to play soft music. 

Nancy glares at her while you laugh. Steve rolls his eyes at his friend. “While I’m all for staying here, how are we going to turn ballerina girl over here into an academic scholar?”

“I might be able to give a brief overview of psychology to y’all?” You offer, but even you know that there wouldn’t be enough time. 

“Or, we could do this.” Nancy pulls a frilly, pink dress from her closet. It’s covered in ruffles and she holds it up, pointing towards Robin. Her eyebrows are raised in amusement, she barely hides her pleased snicker.

Robin stares at the dress, utterly speechless. “Oh, please tell me you’re joking.”

“It’s very… pink?” 

“Shut up, Y/N.”

“At least I tried.”

– 

After Nancy and Robin leave for Pennhurst, you find yourself pretending to read a comic while Lucas, Steve, and Dustin stare at you. They sit across from you on the basement couch while Max remains at the desk. 

You try to ignore them, but their beady little eyes make your skin crawl. When they aren’t staring at you, they’re staring at Max. You feel their eyes drift from you to her, over and over again. 

“Would you guys stop it?” You finally snap, slamming your comic down onto the coffee table.

The boys jump, all grabbing various items to try and appear nonchalant. Lucas holds a newspaper up and smiles awkwardly, Dustin yanks a book from the table and flips to a random page, and Steve tosses a baseball into the air as if he’d been doing so all along. They all look away, heads turned in opposite directions.

“What, did you say something?” Steve asks coyly. 

Max turns in her seat. “We know you guys are staring at us.”

“We’re just hanging out,” Steve tosses the ball again and Lucas nods. 

You roll your eyes at them. “Yeah, real convincing.”

“How you guys think your eyes boring into our skin is protecting Y/N and I from Vecna, I don’t know.” Max mumbles, collecting the paper she’s been writing on all morning. 

She walks over to the sitting area and you poke her shoulder playfully, hoping to get her to laugh. “Ignore them, they’re idiots.” When she stands before the boys and no one lifts their head to look at the two of you, you sigh. “Okay, now you’re taking this too literally.”

“You can look at us now.” Max says, to which all the boys sigh in relief. 

“Thank you,” Dustin breathes out while Steve and Lucas mutter quiet apologies. 

“Is there anything you need?” You ask the girl, noting that she’s carried her papers over to where everyone sits. 

Max nods, taking a deep breath, before extending her arm. “Yeah, I need you to take this.”

In her hand is an envelope with your name written on it. She gives one to Dustin, too. Then Lucas and Steve. The envelope is heavy in your hands. Though you suspected what Max had spent her morning doing, the reality of the goodbye letter in your hand makes your stomach twist. 

“Oh, and um. Can you give these to Mike, El, and Will?” Max asks you, handing three additional letters to you. “If you can ever get a hold of them again.”

Your head moves numbly, you think you manage to nod. Nausea wracks your skull. 

Dustin goes to open his letter and Max quickly stops him. “Woah, hey. That’s not for now. Don’t open it now.”

Your brother raises his eyebrows but does as he’s told, putting the letter back in the envelope. He squints at Max, confused, and holds up his letter. “I’m sorry, what is this?” “It’s, um…” Max looks down, clearly uncomfortable. Her eyebrows pinch together and she can’t seem to say anything else.

“They’re goodbye letters.” You answer for her, staring down at your own letter. A part of you wants to burn it, to never read its content, but the other, smaller part of you wonders what she could’ve written for you. After all the times you’ve failed Max, you’re sure she struggled to say anything nice about you.

Steve makes a pained, surprised sound. “Goodbye letters?” “It’s more like a fail-safe. For after.” Max tries to amend, as if her explanation makes the bitter taste sting less. “If things don’t work out.”

Lucas sits up in alarm. “Max, things are gonna work out.”

“No!” She exclaims, angry. “No, I don’t need you to reassure me right now and tell me it’s all gonna work out.”

“But Max, we will figure it out, alright? We will, there isn’t any reason to not–”

“People have been telling me that everything will work out my entire life, Y/N!” Max cuts you off. Her cheeks are red, her body is stiff. “And it’s almost never true. It’s never true. I mean, of course this asshole curses me.”

Suddenly all the fight within her leaves. The hurt comes back, the fear. Max looks away in shame. “I mean, for Y/N it doesn’t make any sense. But for me? I should’ve seen that one coming.”

She stands in front of you with tears in her eyes. The deafening silence that follows haunts you. Lucas can’t speak, Dustin and Steve don’t know what to say. And you? All you can do is swallow back your own tears and remind yourself that you’re here for Max. That she needs you. 

“You aren’t being fair to yourself.” You say gently, reaching out to grab her hand; but she pulls away instead. You blink away your tears and move towards her, you want nothing more than to wrap her in your arms forever and never let go. “Max, I’m serious. You don’t deserve this, you don’t deserve half of what life has given you. I’m sorry that you’ve come to think otherwise.”

Max turns away as if she hadn’t heard you. Instead of responding, she turns around and walks towards a discarded table. Her eyes land on something. Picking it up, she holds up one of Dustin’s radios. “If we go to East Hawkins, will this reach Pennhurst?”

Dustin informs her that it will while Steve is hesitant. “Why are we talking about East Hawkins?”

Max stares at him, and at the same time, you and Steve realize what she’s asking: she wants to leave the Wheeler home. “No!” You both say, but Max is already grabbing her backpack and walkman. Cursing, you follow after her. 

“Max, wait!” She’s frustratingly fast and it isn’t until you’re outside that you catch up to her. Grabbing her arm, you force her to stop. “Hey, listen to me–’

“I’m not driving you anywhere.” Steve cuts through, frantic as well. Lucas and Dustin trail behind, not at all willing to argue with Max.

“If the two of you think I’m going to spend what is likely the last day of my life in the armpit that is Mike Wheeler’s basement, then you’re out of your mind.” Max rips her arm from your grasp and marches towards Steve’s car. 

“If you would just listen, I can–” But again Max interrupts you.

“Either take me where I need to go or tie me down, which is technically kidnapping of a minor.”

Steve looks at you in bewilderment at what Max has said, but you’re too busy running after her and huffing with annoyance. “Steve has already kidnapped a minor, he’s a professional at this point.”

“Hey!”

Max continues towards the car. “Well then tell your boyfriend that if I live to see another day, I swear to God, I will prosecute.” She tries to open the door, but it’s locked. “Open the door.”

Steve looks at her as if she’s insane. “Uh, no.”

“I know a good lawyer.”

“Where the hell are you meeting good lawyers in Hawkins?” You shove yourself in between them and glare at Max. You shake your head at her. “Anyways, if you had stopped for five seconds, I would’ve told you that I agree with you and that I would talk to Steve for you.”

Max looks at you, surprised. “Wait, you’re freeing me?”

“Okay, the Wheeler basement isn’t a prison, but yes.” You turn to Steve, who has already started to protest. “And as for you, you’re going to do what Max says.”

“But–”

“No.”

“Y/N!” 

“Unlock the car, Steve.”

He stares at you. You stare back, standing your ground. Max crosses her arms and joins you, daring Steve to argue. He sees the tension in your jaw, the determined look in your eyes, and he throws his head back and groans. “God, I hate this.”

You smile at him evilly; you knew he’d give in. “Keys, please.”

Steve digs through his pocket and tosses the keys to you, annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.”

You unlock the door and beckon for Max to get in. She thanks you, and you wink at her. Skipping over to the passenger’s side, you get in with grand flourish, leaving Steve alone with the boys. 

Lucas smirks and Dustin outright laughs in Steve’s face. “Dude, she so owns you.”

“Zip it,” he snaps his fingers. He doesn’t at all have the energy for this. “Little Henderson, that super walkie of yours better reach Pennhurst.”

And with one last threatening glare at your brother, Steve finally gets into the car. The engine roars to life. Soon, the Wheeler’s home fades into the distance. 

– 

The air in the car is tense. 

Lucas, Dustin, and Max all sit in the back while you sit next to Steve. He’s playing one of his old mixes and the music is the only sound within the car. Max stares out the window, turned away from everyone. 

When Steve pulls up in front of her trailer, he parks the car and faces her. “This better be fast, Mayfield.” “Steve!” You hit his arm, berating him. “She’s here for her mother.” “It’s fine, Y/N.” Max unbuckles her seatbelt and gets out. “I’ll be twenty seconds.”

The door slams and you pull out your own walkman. You’re anxious, being alone with the boys. You know they want to ask you a million questions, but for the first time in your life, you don’t think you have it in you to lie to them for their own comfort. 

Before you can hit play on Jonathan’s mixtape, you feel multiple pairs of eyes on you. Looking up, you find that you’re once again being stared at by Steve, Dustin, and Lucas. “What?”

Your brother clears his throat. “No, uh. Visions yet?”

“No, Dustin.” Though you both know that if it did happen, you wouldn’t tell him. Putting on your headphones, you push play and allow the music to slowly creep over you. The conversation ends there.

Steve says something to Dustin, you don’t hear nor pay attention to it. The Beatles sing and you can finally breathe. You miss Jonathan more than anything, but the pain of missing him is now tainted with the ache of guilt. 

After a few minutes, unable to sit still, you all stand outside Steve’s car and wait. Your foot taps the ground and Steve checks his watch every few seconds. When you see Max round the corner, you sigh with relief.

“Hey, that was longer than twenty seconds.” Steve says, relief flooding his own voice.

You’re about to tease her, but then you realize how pale she is. She doesn’t look good, her breathing is irregular and she’s fighting back tears. Worried, you try to stop her. “Woah, what happened? Are you okay?”

Only Max storms past you and flings herself into the car. “I’m fine, just drive.”

“Is she…?” Steve looks at you helplessly. He doesn’t know what the right call here is. Max is clearly upset about something, she’s visibly shaking, and yet she still insists on pretending that she’s fine. 

All you can do is shake your head at Steve, just as helpless. “I don’t know, but we just… We have to be there for her.”

He nods solemnly before getting back into the car. Before he drives away, Lucas asks Max if something happened, and again she lies through her teeth. You try to catch her eye in the rearview mirror, but she adamantly stares out the window once more. 

Soon the only sound in the car is Max giving quiet directions. With every instruction she gives Steve, the more the string in your chest constricts. You’re going deeper and deeper into west Hawkins. It’s mostly woods, Hopper’s cabin is closeby. 

It’s also where the cemetery resides. 

“Turn here.”

Dustin looks at Max, reluctant. “Here?”

She nods as the Roane Hill Cemetery sign greets everyone. Steve inhales deeply, but he doesn’t say anything as he turns. You grip the edge of the seat, bile rising in your throat. It’s been a long time since you’ve been here.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You ask Max, breathing through your nose to try and settle the ache in your stomach. 

She doesn’t acknowledge your question; she jumps out of the car as soon as it stops. Before you can run after her, Lucas is already scrambling to follow her. He chases after her, says something to her, but you can’t hear anything. 

“What’s going on, why did Max take us here?” Steve risks touching your arm, seeking any source of solace from you that he can. 

Your hands shake slightly. Steve can feel it, and he tightens his grip around you. He tries to get you to look at him, but you can’t face him. Not now. Not yet. Instead, you keep your eyes on Max. “This is where Billy is buried.”

Steve sucks in a breath and Dustin closes his eyes. Neither of them ask you how you know this. They didn’t attend his funeral, but you did. 

You’d held Max’s hand as Billy’s casket was lowered into the earth. 

You’re torn from your thoughts when Lucas comes back to the car. He’s upset. You look up and see Max walking towards the tombstones. There’s a letter in her hand. You know who it’s meant for. 

She’s gone for a while. The minutes go by with agonizing latency. Steve remains in the car, tapping his fingers against his window anxiously. His watch never leaves his line of sight. You stand next to Dustin outside, too nervous and overwhelmed to sit right now.

Lucas sits perched on the hood of the car. He stares straight ahead. Max is just barely visible over the hill. Her back is turned towards you, she faces a tombstone. It’s lighter than the others, not yet darkened by weather and age.

It’s Billy’s tombstone. 

The grief of losing a sibling is a chasm, endless and void of everything whole. Without thinking, you reach for Dustin’s hand. He lets you, squeezing your hand, as if thinking what you are. 

The rise and fall of Max’s shoulders tells you that she’s talking to someone. That she’s talking to him, and it’s almost too intimate of a moment to watch. You feel terribly guilty, but you also can’t look away. You’re terrified that if you do, she’ll somehow disappear. 

After nearly ten minutes, Steve glances down at his watch and curses. “Alright, it’s been long enough.”

He opens the car door and gets out, slamming it behind him. The action startles you, puts you on high alert. Lucas protests, insisting that you give Max more time, but Steve doesn’t listen. “I’m calling it. If she wants to get a lawyer, she can.”

“I’m coming with you,” breaking away from Dustin, you follow after Steve. You respect Max’s wishes, but he’s right. It’s been too long. Turning towards the other boys, you give them a weary look. “Stay here, please?”

Lucas doesn’t like this. “But–”

“We’ll be right back.” You promise him, running after Steve up the hill. 

He’s already reached the crest of the hill by the time you catch up. He jogs towards Max, whose back is pin straight. She’s eerily still, almost too still, and immediately you start to feel panic crawl up your neck. 

“Max, time to giddy up, yeah?” Steve stops in front of her, but the sincerity in his voice is quickly replaced with fear. Max’s eyes are rolled back, she doesn’t respond to any of Steve’s touches. He bends down, shakes her. “Max? Max!”

She’s in the same trance as last night. You drop down next to her, knees scraping against the grass below you. “Max, sweetheart.” Cupping her face, you gently try to bring her back to you, but she’s as cold as ice. 

“Max!” Steve claps his hands in front of her face. He’s yelling now, just as scared as you are. “Hey, wake up!”

“Max!” Over and over again her name rips from your mouth as tears coat your face. You scream and cry and shake her lifeless body, begging her to wake up. To say something, to smile at you, to argue with you and push you away. 

Anything. You’ll take anything. Just as long as she’s alive.

Steve shakes her shoulders almost as violently as you do. Choking on terror, you scream down to Lucas and Dustin. “Help! Help us!”

Your hands are joined by Lucas’. The two of you scream Max’s name. Vecna has her. You’ve failed, she’s going to die because of you. You hadn’t followed her, you should’ve made her stay with you back at Steve’s car. It’s your fault, it’s always your fault.

“Max, you gotta get out of there!” Lucas cries, gripping the girl’s skin harshly. But still she doesn’t respond. “Can you hear me?”

“Please.” Your voice is hoarse, you don’t even know what you’re pleading for. All you know is that Vecna has her, that Max is about to die. And you can’t do anything. 

Steve grabs Dustin’s jacket roughly and yanks him forward. “Call Nancy and Robin! Go get them, call them. Go.”

You watch as your brother falls, frantically picking himself back up as he runs down to where his radio is. You’re choking on your own breath, hyperventilating. Lucas’ screams deafen you, Steve’s pleas echo your own. It’s a grim, helpless situation.

Nancy and Robin have to know something. They’re the only option you have left. You can’t lose Max. You can’t fucking lose her. Not after everything. She’s too young. She’s too young. It should be you instead. 

“Take me,” you scream into the sky, voice cracking. The taste of blood fills your mouth. “Just-just take me! Leave her alone, I’m-I’m right here. Please.”

Steve’s grip on Max loosens slightly, he looks up at you, alarmed, but Dustin suddenly returns with an armful of cassettes and Max’s walkman. “Guys!”

He slides onto the ground, you quickly make room for him even though you have no idea why he’s brought all of Max’s music. “What-what are you doing?”

“What’s her favorite song?” Dustin demands, out of breath.

“Why?” Lucas doesn’t move.

“Robin said if she listens–” He stumbles over his words, his mind is all over the place. “It-it’s too much to explain now. What’s her favorite song?”

Dustin is screaming and in your blind fear, your mind can’t catch up. You can’t think of Max’s favorite song, you know everything about her. What her favorite color is, her favorite ice cream flavor, her deepest fear. And yet you don’t fucking know what her favorite song is.

“I–” You can’t breathe. You wrack your mind, you try to come up with something, anything. But you can’t. Steve and the others rustle through the cassettes, their voices overlap and everyone talks at once. 

“Lucas, which one is it?” Steve exclaims, flipping over the tapes in vain. “What's her favorite song?” 

Your mind goes back to winter. To when the cold burned your lungs and the snow quieted your fears. It was Christmas, Lucas had wanted you to check up on Max. He’d been worried about her. When you visited her, she’d had her walkman on, volume on the highest setting. 

You remember asking what she’d been listening to. It’d been an innocent question, then. Nothing more than a simple formality, a way to get Max to open up to you. Feel more calm around you. 

But now it could be what prevents you from losing Max forever.

“Kate Bush!” Screaming, you dig through the cassettes yourself. “Her favorite song is by Kate Bush.”

Lucas finds the only tape by her and he quickly removes it from its case. He screams at Steve to take it and hand it over to Dustin. They move in a blur, Dustin slides the headphones over Max’s ears and your finger presses play. 

Kate Bush’s voice erupts from the speakers. Max still doesn’t move, her eyes remain rolled back. But that’s it. The music is all you can do. 

Everyone shouts over the music, there isn’t anything else that can be done. Lucas holds her hand, he doesn’t let go of her. “Max, we’re right here!”

“Come back,” you cry, hands pressed against her face. “Sweetheart, Max–”

Her body begins to levitate. 

Your entire world collapses. 

“No!” You scream, vocal chords tearing. 

Your hands grasp at the air, you try to jump, you try to reach her. You try to do something, anything, to save her. Steve clutches you against him, holds you against his chest, scared you’ll hurt yourself. But you don’t care. Lucas screams behind you, Dustin cries for his friend. You throw yourself at Max, over and over again. 

But Max is just out of reach, dangerously high, and all you can do is watch. 

Her body constricts, her neck snaps back in a sickening manner. She starts to convulse, just how Billy did the night the Mind Flayer killed him. It’s happening again. All the air leaves your lungs. Max’s body dangles before you, taunts you.

Then, just as suddenly as it began, her body falls. You and Steve break her fall as she crumbles onto the grass, just barely managing to protect her head. “Max!”

She’s awake, gasping for air. Lucas cradles her body as she cries. She can’t speak, her hands clutch at any part of Lucas that she can reach. He pulls her close, his head rests against hers. He’s crying, too. “I thought we lost you.”

“I’m still-I’m still here,” Max chokes out. “I’m still here.”

“You’re never leaving.” You gasp out, holding her hand. She’s warm again. Her flesh doesn’t numb yours anymore. “I’m not-I’m not letting you leave us.”

Max cries, your promise heavy against her. You brush back her hair, your tears mix with hers. Steve’s arm wraps around you and Dustin’s head rests against your shoulder. You all hover over Max, almost as if instinctively shielding her.

She’s still here. 

The sun begins to set.

-

⌑ series masterlist

⌑ i am no longer doing a taglist, my apologies ! however, please feel free to like, reblog, and comment instead :)

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

Give me everything you got for this W.A.P-!!

synopsis: Your dragonic boyfriend needs to leave dinner early and have something else for dessert.

tags: Semi-Dragon!Neuvi, Dacryphillia, size kink, double penetration ( 2 dragon cocks), praise, cunnalingus, vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 0.9k

a/n: spectacular give me 14 more

Monsieur Neuvillette was almost upfront with you about his…hailings. You knew exactly the man he was yet he was always hesitant with your capabilities and moreso your limitations.

You knew it was just him caring, not wanting hurt you in any way.

But he really wanted to have you, to see what your torqued face would look like in moments of pleasure, would you reject him? Cry for him? He needed to know.

It was only so long since his thoughts infested his actions like wasps to a hive.

You knew something was up, your prim and poised lover was beckoning for the waiter to bring you two the check…before dessert!? You eyed him, your brow contorting as he insisted for the both of you to head home and rest. It was quite strange on his behalf.

As you walked into your home, you felt a sense of unfinished business.

You also felt something else the minute he took your hand and practically threw you onto the bed alongside him.

You could feel something new now; Neuvillette's two cocks, hard and throbbing, pressed up against your thighs as he spoons you from behind already leaking pre. His breath hot on your neck, he reaches around to cup your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples. "My love-, you have no idea how much I want you right now…," he growls, his voice low and rough.

You gasp as he pinches your nipples, the pleasure and pain shooting straight to your core.

"Then take me, Neuvi," you moan, "I'm all yours."

With a serpentine growl, Neuvillette flips you over onto your back, pushing the hair in your face back behind your ear to hear you say it again.

He was scared, and needed your reassurance, and you were full of it.

And he needed to fill you.

After what seemed like thousands of layers keeping you two apart, your mouth was almost agape when you saw his length. It wasn’t scary, persay, but it definitely left you shocked.

“Are you ready?” He asked, positioning his two blue and silver scaled cocks at the rim of your cunt, his eyes so sharp and focused onto your every reaction.

Your nod of approval was all he needed. "Mmpfh-so fucking tight" he groans as he pushes himself inside of you.

You cry out in pleasure as he fills you up, the feeling of being stretched to the limit driving you wild. Neuvillette starts to thrust in and out, his hips slapping against your lower half with each movement.

"Fuck, yes, just like that-!” you moan, your pussy clenching around his cock. You can feel your arousal dripping down your thighs, and you know Neuvillette can too.

"I love how wet you get for me…” he groans, reaching around to rub your clit. "It's so fucking hot."

You can feel the pleasure building up inside of you, and you know it won't be long before you come. But just as you're about to reach your peak, Neuvillette pulls out of you.

"What are you doing?" you gasp, looking back at him over your shoulder.

"I want to taste you," he growls, pulling your plush thighs and letting you fall back down onto your back. He spreads your legs wide and dives between them, his pronged dragon tongue lapping at your pussy. His eyes almost light up when he makes contact with yours, possessed by you and his urge to completely devour you, body and soul. His grip on your thighs is tight, not wanting to let you crawl away.

You moan in pleasure as he licks and sucks at your clit, his tongue darting inside of you to collect your juices, hearing noises and slurps that just get you more and more excited.

And just as you're about to come, fistful of his hand in your hair, he pulls back, a string of your wetness connecting his tongue to your clit.

"Neuvillette, please," you yelp, your voice trembling.

He grins wickedly at you, before lining his cocks up with your entrance. "Beg me, y/n," he growls, pushing himself inside of you again, both cocks rubbing against each side of your walls. "Beg me to make you come."

"Please, Neuvi-, I need it so bad…," you moan, your hips bucking up to meet his.

And with that, Neuvillette starts to thrust in and out, his hips slapping against yours. He reaches up and pinches your nipples, soothing your pain with his tongue right after.

You scream out his name as you come, your pussy clenching around his cock. And as you feel Neuvillette's seed fill you up, you can't help but shed a few tears.

Neuvillette notices, and leans down to lick a tear off your cheek. "Ah, you taste so sweet when you cry," he says, his voice filled with lust as he smirks down at you.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm subside, you can’t not be aware of Neuvillette's still-thrusting hips. He hasn't finished yet, and the feeling of him still inside you is almost too much to bear. You whimper as he continues to thrust, overstimulating you.

"Please, Neuvillette," you beg, your voice hoarse from your cries of pleasure. "I can't take it anymore-!”

“Shhhh sweetheart, you can do it~ Cry for me.” He whispers, close to your face and kissing away your tears, licking his lips and savoring the taste of your sweetness.

He better go back to the restaurant and get you that dessert.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[boolger]

A lapdog at a farm - chapter 2

<-former chapter ~ AO3 link ~ next chapter-> I will block any ageless blogs. Call of duty. Explicit, 18+, minors do not interact. read the tags. wc: 6181.

Farmer!John Price x Hybrid!Reader, hybrid! Kyle Gaz Garrick x hybrid! Johnny Soap MacTavish x hybrid! Simon Ghost, John Price x Nikolai.

tags: Rape/non-con elements, dub-con, dog!hybrid!people being kept as pets, alternative universe - farm, dark, farmer!John Price, working-dogs, punishments, mating cycles/rut/heat (no omegaverse), the dove isn't dead but its dying, reader is a brat, knotting, animal tails and ears, mentions of trauma, violence, angst, hurt/comfort, collars, rough sex, breeding kink, biting, threesome, foursome, everyone is fucking your honor, enemies to lovers, chubby reader, reader has a pussy

Author's note: reminder that reader is kinda a bitch at some points, thinking mean, unjustified things about our 141 once in a while. Unreliable narrators, my sinner. Apologies for any grammatical errors , the bad russian and such. So uh, this got waaay longer than intended so here you go. It will be a couple of days before the next chapter, so enjoy this snack for u all, my sinners.

chapter 2: Delivery from the Hybrid's Den!

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

“I have a friend coming over for a while,” John softly said next morning, hand resting on your head, fingers stroking your long ears now and again,, “to help us with getting the boys settled.”

You were on the floor, half way beneath the kitchen table, snuggled up against Price’s leg, feeling much more needy, knowing the ‘boys’ as your owner called them, would be delivered later today or tomorrow. They needed to be chipped and Price had asked for a full health check from his vet, as well as vaccinations and dental care. John was a caring owner; the mere fact that he did this from the get go was proof of that. He had done the same when getting you, made sure that any recent wounds or scarring were taken care of - getting your teeth fixed and your nails checked.

You didn’t have much of your fangs left when he got you; your earlier owners had taken those, the memories still haunting you once in a while. They had done it without anesthesia, not even by professionals. Same with your claws, that wasn’t beneath your nails anymore, thanks to former owners as well. Price had gotten the wounds cleaned and fixed up; they had almost grown closed by now. For most of the time that you lived with John, he had made sure your nails were always done nicely, however you wanted them.

John was a good master. You loved him, more than you knew you should, desperate for his attention, acknowledgment and praise. You didn’t want to share him, not with these hounds he had decided to get…

… not with this apparent friend.

You didn’t answer with anything but a displeased sound, tightening your grip on Price’s pants; when he offered you another piece of sausage you were quick to eat it, licking at his fingers while he chuckled. For a moment your tail wagged, eating the food and pressing against his hand.

He couldn’t be serious - abruptly changing so many things? and you were just supposed to accept it? Finally, you replied.

“Do I know your friend?” You didn’t bother to seem excited in any way, your skepticism seeping into your voice like poison. Price took another sip of his tea, not commenting on it.

“You’ve met him before but it’s been years. First year I had you, I reckon. Remember Nikolai?” 

Nikolai. Nikolai. Different faces flashed for your eyes, trying to pinpoint who you had met that bore that name. 

“No,” you finally admitted.

“Can’t blame you, lass. You were a little mess when you met him.”

You let out a huff at his words, embarrassment making your toes curl. It was true, your mind was muddled when it came to the first half year or so together with Price. You had been wary of every single person, desperately acting out and having to wear a muzzle, slowly getting used to the gentleness and rules of John. How he was fair and didn’t change his rules, didn’t punish you without reason.

You heard the front door open, ears peeking up a little, a small bark leaving you on instinct.

“‘Morning,” Laswell called out, making you settle again with a huff. While Laswell was strict and sometimes a meanie, she wasn’t a threat. Only to you and John’s private time.

“Good morning,” John called out, “I’ve made coffee.”

“Ugh if I wasn’t a lesbian I would marry you,” Kate groaned happily, by now so comfortable with John that she simply moved to take a cup in the cupboard, helping herself to the coffee and some food. They had known each other when younger, that was all you knew. Their stories always changed when you asked.

“Morning puppy,” she greeted, leaning over to give you a small pat that you leaned into, tail wagging once more, “are you going to misbehave again today?”

“Hopefully not,” John hummed, picking up his tea cup once more, “Nikolai is arriving in a couple of hours.”

“Ah, your old crush,” Laswell mused happily as she sat down across the table, once again making you wonder how long they had known each other, “going to pull yourself together this time?”

Wait. Crush… crush? Your head whipped up to look at your owner and oh fucking hell, John fucking Price was blushing. You huffed, clearly not pleased at all with this new knowledge.

Wonderful, wasn’t that just fucking wonderful? Now he was going to abandon you fully, to run around being a lovesick puppy and playing with the new hybrids.

“Don’t tease me,” John answered, clearly embarrassed, a rare sight indeed, “that’s none of your business.”

Kate just laughed. You let out a grumble, trying to snuggle even closer to Price, practically clinging to his leg by now. Price returned his hand to your head, petting you once more, looking down at you. You returned his gaze, doing your best puppy eyes, letting out a little whine. He smiled at you, his other hand scratching you beneath your chin.

“It’s been years,” he mused and you were pretty sure that he wasn’t even talking to you, “he had to return to Russia. His mother passed away.”

Russia? A memory appeared in your mind. A small party. Champagne, treats. Praise from Price’s friends and colleagues, attention and love that you had basked in. Other hybrids that sent you longing and lustful looks. A tall, broad man with a loud laugh and a strong accent. Wearing a gold chain. Long hair, rough hands when he scratched you. He would almost make your owner shy with his teasing but he would shower you in love.

“Did I meet him at a party once?” You asked, “big guy, strong accent ? Wearing a gold chain?”

John laughed, “yes, that would indeed be Nikolai.”

Huh. It was not much you could remember about him. You remembered liking him, but despite that, you weren’t really interested in him getting here.

“He is going to help with Soap, Ghost and Gaz,” John then said, almost as if to convince himself that was why he was here. You rolled your eyes at their names. Not that you had any say, you were usually just called different pet names, but you no longer bore the name your mother had once given you. It wasn’t unusual for pets to get their names changed with every new owner. Your legal hybrid name, with John, was Daisy, even though the man rarely ever called you that. He called you so many other names, Princess, Darling, Sweetheart, Birdie and so on. But apparently he had decided not to change these working dogs’ names.

“Sure,” Kate answered with amusement in her voice, taking another sip of the coffee before adding, “whatever you say.”

Price didn’t answer with anything but an annoyed grumble.

“Those are stupid names,” you muttered. A sharp tug on your ear made you yelp, one of your hands grabbing onto his wrist to get him to let go of your furry ear. 

“Be nice, Princess. You’re going to behave, am I understood?” You didn’t meet his eyes, a little whine merely escaped from you.

“She just needs to be shown her place,” Laswell carefully said, John not letting go of your ear, much to your dismay, but he didn’t tug on it - just kept it there as a warning, “maybe they’re better at that.”

“Hopefully they’ll be better at it than me,” he muttered and you whined - the grip didn’t loosen and he didn’t look down at you.

“Nikolai is going to help with that too?” 

“He had ideas, at least.”

Fucking wonderful.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

Nikolai was the first of the four men that you already hated, to arrive. 

You stayed inside the house, watching John appear from one of the stables, almost lighting up at the sight of the man who exited the car.

He still looked like the old memory you had of him; big, long black hair and a grin on his face. He was taller than John but not by much, Almost seeming completely opposite to your owner. While John wore working clothes, a grey T-shirt beneath his blue flannel, dirt on his pants, Nikolai was wearing a pair of blue jeans, white T-shirt and leather jacket.

Even inside the house, you could hear the booming man that was Nikolai - he greeted your owner with a loud “John!”, before hugging him, even spinning him around. You couldn’t help but stare; John was far from small but the other man had swung him around like he had been a teenage girl. 

John was blushing like one too. The sight made you curious - just like you wondered how he and Kate met, you wondered how this Nikolai met your owner.

You couldn’t help but wag your tail at how happy they looked. Despite how you hated the idea of the man staying here, even just for a little while, you liked seeing John happy like this.

Then two pairs of eyes suddenly looked directly into the window, both staring at you. It made your ears tip back a little. Your tail kept wagging, eating up the attention. 

When they moved, you moved too - rushing towards the entrance, stopping in the doorframe to the living room. 

“My my, if it isn’t the famous puppy,” Nikolai mused, his Russian accent strong, eyes almost twinkling as he looked you up and down, “up to trouble, da?”

You huffed, crossing your arms, though you felt your tail betray you by wagging a little, “I’m never up to trouble.”

Both of the men laughed, making you growl a little. 

“Unruly - just like last time I met you!” Nikolai mused, looking over at John by his side, “you gave up on training?”

John shook his head, “don’t even get me started, mate.”

“You told enough over phone,” Nikolai answered, waving his hand at John while pushing his shoes off with his feet.

Ah. So he had talked about you with Nikolai already? The fact made you scrunch your nose a little. Maybe Nikolai was just as stupid as John when it came to realizing why you were upset.

Nikolai stepped into your personal sphere with no warning, almost backing you up against the door frame, making you panic and growl a little. Tail no longer wagging - you could see John tense up in the corner of your eye, but you were too distracted by the stranger.

“Nik—“

A part of you expected him to hit you - you had met plenty of strangers with your former owners, who didn’t even let you sniff their hand or anything. Some hurting you and —

He offered his hand. It didn’t hit you, but raised to your nose instead. You squinted at him, before taking a couple of sniffs, still not quite sure what to make of him.

“Don’t like you,” you growled in warning, showing your teeth a little, not even attempting to be polite. 

“You don’t like farm life yet, puppy?” He asked, tipping his head to the side, voice demeaning, stupid smile still on his face. You wanted to slap it off his face. “Stupid little puppy.”

Instead you chomped down on his hand, Price instantly scolding out your name, moving to drag you away. But Nikolai didn’t even flinch - didn't move besides laughing again. 

It made both you and John confused.

“If you want to hurt me, you would have to bite harder, Princess,” Nikolai crooned, “now let go.”

You wanted to piss in his shoes and rip his socks to pieces. Maybe scratch up that leather jacket of his. Yet you found yourself letting go of him, your teeth barely even having made a dent in his skin.

“Get your ass into your room,” John hissed, a redness in his skin that you weren’t sure came from embarrassment or anger from your action.

“No harm done, John,” Nikolai laughed; he scratched you behind your right ear, just a tad to the left and it was like your brain melted for a couple of seconds, your body reacted on its own, tail wagging and right leg moving as well, “she just attempt to be dangerous no?”

John let out a small sound that you weren’t sure  what to make of before he grabbed you by the collar and dragged you away from Nikolai, “and that’s the kind of behaviour I don’t want.”

“He was being mean,” you whined in self defense, unable to not follow the hand dragging you into the living room, “he almost dared me to!”

Perhaps an overstatement, but you already knew what was going to happen the moment that Price pushed you over the armrest of the couch, “I bit him to defend myself!”

“You will not, and I repeat myself, not bite my guests,” he pulled up your skirt and down your panties with such a quick movement that you didn’t get to point out that you didn’t care, one hand grabbing your tail; his other hand collided with your ass cheeks, once, twice and then a third time, before he snapped out, “got it?”

A defiant bark left you, because while you knew it was bad behavior, you also wanted to prove that you weren’t afraid of this Nikolai. You twisted a little, knowing your ass and pussy was basically on display for both men. 

The grip on your tail tightened making you cringe with pain, jaw tensing.

“Apologise.”

You shook your head in defiance, ears hitting your face. Price leant over you a little, hissing out, “I would advise you to apologize, princess. Now.”

A part of you knew he was upset because he liked Nikolai. If he actually had feelings for him, as Kate had pointed out and several things pointed towards, you knew he wouldn’t like being embarrassed too much. Your ass still stung a little.

You were the actual victim here, weren’t you? It wasn’t your fault he decided to change everything you loved and then accept that he had his lost love over, who immediately tried to push your buttons.

“‘m sorry,” you mumbled after two seconds.

“Louder.” John demanded, straightening up, so that you were no longer hidden.

"I'm sorry."

There was silence for a moment - then the sound of a lighter and as you dared to glance over at the bigger man, who was leaning against the door frame, you saw him staring right back at you, a lit cigarette now between his lips.

“Is okay, Lapochka.” He said, stupid smile still on his face.

With that John finally let go off your tail, pulling up your underwear and your skirt down, ignoring your whine. He didn’t even touch your pussy! Didn’t even give you some love!

You pouted as you looked over at them, sliding down from the armrest of the couch, hands going beneath your skirt to rest against your warm skin on your cheeks.

“Sorry Nik,” John once again apologized - as if it was him who John had just spanked! The audacity! You let out a little displeased bark.

“She usually doesn’t bite people,” he continued as he ushered Nikolai as if you weren’t right there, needing love and attention.

“Is okay,” Nikolai answered with a shrug, casting one last glance over at you, smirking for just a second, “some of it was my fault - wanted to see what she would do.”

Asshole.

“Room, princess - now.”

“But he literally ju—“

“I said now.”

“You’re being so fucking mea—“

“Crate then.”

“I’m going, I’m going.” You might have slammed the door to your room, growling as you plopped down on your big fuzzy dog bed. 

It was about 30 minutes later than you dared to wander from the room to the kitchen again, standing in the doorway, watching the two men talk. Eyes moved to watch you again, as you whined and got on your knees. crawling to the two men, shamefully settling between Price’s legs on your knees - tail carefully wagging, sending your owner a pitiful glance.

“‘m sorry,” you whimpered, knowing John was easy to sweeten up, “‘m sorry, sir.”

A hand moved down to scratch you, though it wasn’t John’s-  you carefully licked his hand, a pleased rumble leaving the guest.

“Smart one,” he muttered, giving your cheek a little pinch, “knows how to be sweet, da?”

“Always,” John answered, looking down at you with his usual loving eyes, “soft lass is hard  to stay mad at.”

“Perhaps you need some more company,” Nikolai pointed out, “I worked with military pets before, they’re much different than you, milaya.”

“We don’t need them,” you whined, having no idea what Nikolai had just called you, “John will forget about me, will be too busy, he –”

John’s foot ever so gently pushed against your stomach, “don’t start that again.”

“Just insecure,” Nikolai suggested, making you huff.

“Am not,” you argued, but you still nuzzled closer to John, starting to move your hands to his inner thighs, moving to look up the best you could, looking from under the edge of the table, sweetening your voice a little, “It’s just a mistake, that’s all.”

“Spoiled, that’s what you are, darling,” John pointed out, but he still reached out to gently pat your head, “however, the boys will be here in a couple of hours and there is nothing you can do about it.”

You whined pitifully at his words, upset that your clear dissatisfaction with them joining the farm wasn’t clear. It was like John didn’t want to realize at all that he didn’t need to stay out on this farm. He needed to go back to the city, to the fancy penthouse apartment, to the parties that lasted out to the late hours of the night, where you could gossip with all the other hybrids.

“Milaya,” Nikolai repeated again, rustling with something in his jacket that hung over the back of the chair he was currently sitting on, pulling a little package from it. You watched curiously, though trying to seem disinterested. That was until he opened it and the most wonderful, mouthwatering scent you had smelled in a while appeared and you instantly moved from between John’s legs to Nikolai’s, making your owner chuckle.

The piece of jerky looking meat that Nikolai held in between his thumb and pointer finger, looked simple but oh the smell of it made it known that it was good.

“You behave and let us look through papers now, da?” 

“Yes,” you said, unable to look away or stop your tail from wagging, “I’ll behave.” 

The moment Nikolai offered you the piece, you were on it, barely missing his fingers with your teeth as you stole it from his grip. Nikolai was chuckling, putting the bag back into his jacket, while you chewed, a pleased moan leaving you as you settled beneath the table. 

Hopefully these mutts would prove themselves too difficult - so that John would send them away again. You would happily wave goodbye to them. 

With the sweet aftertaste of the meat in your mouth and their soft voices discussing fences, you closed your eyes.

You weren’t going to help with the pack settling in - that was for sure.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

You barely got used to your owner’s crush, before there were once again new things happening. Kate appeared, greeting Nikolai like an old friend as well. You hadn’t figured out much about the man, other than he had worked with a lot of hybrids throughout the years. And with helicopters. However that all fit together, you didn’t know… didn’t really care.

The big truck that arrived a couple of hours later, stood out against the farm houses; a colorful logo was painted on the otherwise steel gray vehicle.

THE HYBRID’S DEN! helping owners find their perfect hybrid pet since 1960!

You remembered seeing their logos everywhere when you were sold to the auction, years ago. The auction houses and facilities had often felt like an intermission from your former life to your new; never knowing what was going to happen, treated with the minimal care, but kept healthy enough for the auctions. 

The staff wore the colorful logo on their black uniforms, exciting the truck a few moments later. You almost wanted to tell them to ‘get the fuck back into that truck and drive off’ again, but you figured it wouldn’t result in them actually doing so.

You kept your distance, standing on the steps of the front door - strategically keeping Nikolai between you and the closed metal crates that were inside the truck. There were nothing more than a few air holes in the boxes, from where some different sounds appeared. Barks and a growl or two, though they all sounded a little slurred. Nikolai moved, giving you a better look at them, as he joined John who was nodding along to some of the information, while looking through and signing some papers. Though you were mostly distracted by the crates, you could hear some of their conversation, catching words like sedated, muzzles, stressed. Your own trip hadn’t been nice either but a part of you wanted to point out to your owner that this only proved your point of this being a bad idea.

Some of the auction workers helped move the crates to one of the bigger empty sheds that Price had apparently been renovating without your knowledge. So apparently not so empty any longer. Not that it had been hard to do that, you ignored most of the different renovating and building jobs that both John and the helpers did.

Still… he could have told you. God, did your master tell you nothing anymore? It didn’t really help your mood, your growing annoyance clearly amusing for Nikolai if his smiles back at you were anything to go by.

Despite your repeated frustration with this entire situation and these new hybrids’ mere existence, you followed along inside the shed. It was nice… Isolated, with a tiny bathroom, an area padded with mattresses, which was clearly for them to sleep together, pillows, blankets… you wanted that too. Sure, you had loads, but this only made you want more, want more from Price, so that he could prove he still loved you. 

There was a radiator, several windows, lamps and electricity outlets. You scrunch your nose with displeasure. They didn’t deserve that. At least they weren’t inside the main house. 

There was a little notch in the other corner opposite the bed area, almost like a tiny expansion, another door next to it; it was almost like a small horse stall - a deep layer of hay covered the floor. You didn’t even step into the place, but you knew the hay would itch.

You wanted it. Not the itching of the hay, but the entire place, simply for the sake of having it, so that they couldn’t. Speaking of them, you watched from the main entrance as the metal boxes were opened.

The Belgian malinois and German Shepherd mix was the first one to stumble out of the box; he fell two steps later, directly into the hay, a deep sigh leaving him, eyes darting around. You could barely see him from the amount of people inside the stall. 

“It’s alright, Gaz,” Price comforted, while you stayed in the door, keeping his distance to the hybrid, “You’re okay, boy.”

Gaz didn’t answer, just panted a little, ears tipped backwards - his eyes looked a little blown from what you could see.

“When will the sedatives wear off?” Laswell asked one of the workers, but you didn’t look at them, eyes instead at the other hybrid. 

When you had arrived, you had been scared and angry, drugged as well. But you had been alone. While you grew up with your parents, in a nice enough place, you hadn’t seen them for years - and while you had befriended a lot of other hybrids throughout the years, you had never been a part of a “pack”. You were alone — but this Gaz wasn’t and a part of you envied him, even for that.

“In an hour or two,” the worker replied, pulling you from your deeper thoughts, “they weren’t too happy to settle down before we left. It was necessary.”

A small bark left the man in the hay. It was answered by the two other hybrids, who still hadn’t come out of their respective boxes. Nikolai gently tapped on the top of one of the boxes with a knuckle.

“Come join your friend,” the Russian suggested, voice not as loud as earlier.

A moment later the border collie mix, Soap, crawled out of his box, eyes instantly on Gaz, letting himself lay halfway on top of the other. A little growl leaving him, muffled from behind the mask. Not even a second later, Ghost got out of the last crate. The Great Pyrenees almost got on his legs, growling despite the muzzle and swaying from the drugs.

You watched the staff pull back the metal boxes, letting the hybrids get some space. Ghost didn’t stay on his legs for too long, eventually sitting down next to his pack mates, the lower half of his face hidden from view as he looked around the shed.

His gaze stopped at you; you were unable to sense the reaction from seeing you again, if there even was any.

“We’ll let you have some minutes, okay? Then we’ll take the muzzles off.” John gently offered, pulling the giant from the moment, so that he looked away, giving Price a small nod. Your owner was at the edge of the hay filled area but he didn’t step into it.

You stepped back, letting the staff members from the auction pull away the boxes, Laswell and another farm worker helping them. Nikolai looked from the pack, then over his shoulder at you, barely even trying to hide a smile.

Then he winked. You sent him an unimpressed look back, tipping your chin up a little, looking away from the three hybrids in the hay, pretending you weren’t curious about them.

Some more rustling in the hay and then a half croaked, “mah held hurts,” left Soap, voice a little slurred - you couldn’t help but look over at him. His accent was weird. His ears were tipped down, some hay already stuck in his hair. With the pathetic look on his face you didn’t understand how he was supposed to be a big bad soldier.

You weren’t being petty at all.

“It’s the sedatives,” John calmly answered the hybrid, who let out a big breath from behind the muzzle.

“If I take the muzzle off, will you behave?”

“We have water for you,” Nikolai added, keeping his distance - you kept him in between you and the dogs, not risking anything. You trusted the men to be able to defend themselves. But with no claws or fangs, you weren’t a fighter - more a runner. Even if you didn’t like running.

The two muzzled ones, Soap and Ghost, sent each other a look - but it was Gaz, half hidden beneath Soap, who let out a tired “please.”

Ghost gave a small nod then. John stepped into the hay, unhurried as to not spook them, and it was Ghost who tipped his head down first to let Price open the lock with a small key. The moment he was free, he smacked his cracked and dry looking lips. 

Clearly, the man had never heard of chapstick.

Though, much more apparent, where the colony of scars on his lower half of the face. Trailing from around the lips, one over the nose as well - cheeks and chin. As he smacked his lips, you saw he had lost a fang in the bottom of his mouth. It wasn’t just sanded down like yours, the tooth was fully missing.

Price repeated the action with Soap, the hybrid instantly opening his mouth wide with a yawn, his jaw even making a popping wound.

Nikolai appeared with three bottles of water from a little cooler in the shed - you didn’t have your own cooler, which meant you would be demanding one… not that you needed it but still — giving the hybrids each one, that was always immediately opened. Gaz pushed Soap away and sat up too, while John backed away.

“My name is John Price -we met shortly at the auction. I’m the owner of the farm and you will all answer to me. Got it?”

“Yes sir.” For a moment you were impressed with the three hybrids’ synchronized answers. Only a short moment however. They were probably just beasts trained to answer like that. Yeah, yeah, you could do that too, if you wanted. But you didn’t.

“This is Nikolai, my friend, he will stay with me for a while, helping you all to settle in properly. You will follow his orders too - as well as a mean looking woman, Kate Laswell, who will appear at some point.” Humour tipped into the last part making Soap snort and Gaz give out a half-slurred giggle, while Ghost just let out a grunt.

“And this,” Price suddenly turned over to you, looking a little amused from the distance you kept between all of them, “is my pet, Daisy.” 

“Well hellooo, bonnie lass,” Soap said, his tail immediately wagging, grinning at you, as he slurred, “aren’t ye a sight for sore eyes.”

Nikolai and John dared to laugh at his words, his rather pathetic attempt at being charming, while you growled, watching Soap get an elbow in the side from Gaz, while Simon just stared, almost differently than the scot, like a hungry beast. If you were fully inside the shed, you might be able to smell if they were turned on. Disgusting. 

“Come’ere, sweetheart,” John crooned, clearly pleased with the reactions from the men, while you scrunch your nose, tipping your chin up a little - giving it a shake to reject the command.

“Do not be like that, milaya,” Nikolai suggested, “thought you were going to behave, no?”

You just growled a little again, unable to help your tail go between your legs a little; you didn’t really want to be spanked again, but you didn’t really want to become acquainted with these hybrids either.

“My princess isn’t too pleased with you lot being here,” John calmly explained without taking his eyes off you - they were still all staring at you - as John raised a hand, making a ‘come-hither’ motion that had you swallowing some spit, “but she isn’t going to chase away any wolves, are ye, pet?”

You huffed, crossing your arms before stepping inside the shed. The scent in there was nice and clean, even with the vague scent of the newcomers, and you walked to John, stopping halfway hidden by him.

However, as John’s arm snaked around your soft waist in a strong grip, you whimpered as you were pulled forward a little, unable to hide behind him. Both Gaz and Soap were wagging their tails at you, while you tried ignoring the scent of the room the best you can.

“I’m expecting you all to get along - and not hurt each other too badly, understood?”

While the others answered in agreement you just hid your face in his shoulder, twisting a little in his grip.

“No playin’ too rough,” Nikolai added, “Puppy isn’t used to other hybrids.”

“I am!” you snapped, “Just not…”

The shed was quiet for a moment as you mulled over your next words. What to call them. Military dogs. Strays. Mutts, un –

“Not what?” Nikolai almost seemed entertained by your declaration and you looked away, before finally mumbling.

“... working dogs.”

Simon huffed. You shot him a sharp look that he didn’t really seem to be affected by, in any way.

“I’m sure you all will get along,” John just mused, before looking down at his watch, “A certain princess has become too bored now we’re no longer in the city -” he ignored your mutter of ‘have not’, “- and I can’t entertain her all the time. Mentally or sexually.” 

You whined with embarrassment, a little angry growl seeping into it, but Price didn’t really react, barely moved as you twisted in his grip, ignoring the grin of the several males in the house. 

“ - Now, I will leave you three to get acclimated a little. But, there are a couple of rules that I expect you all to follow, if not there will be punishments.”

Synchronized nods. You still twisted, digging your fingers into his arm to no avail - then a hand snagged onto your collar from behind, choking you shortly as you were pulled back, Nikolai pressing against your back. Now free, Price pointed to a little map over the area, that you hadn’t noticed on the wall.

“Your jobs will essentially be to help keep the place safe. We have had problems with wolves and foxes, and so has the neighbors, since there lives a bunch in the area. You three will help keeping them away and Soap will help around my sheeps and goats in particular, given you’re a herding dog–”

Soap nodded, tail wagging, all three dogs staring at the map intensely.

“- I will find other things for the two of you to help with as well, but your main focus will be on keeping the animals - and the rest of us - safe. One of the neighbors got some horses stolen not too long ago. I would like to avoid that as well.”

You didn’t even know that. What you did know, however, was the heat of Nikolai’s body behind you, keeping you close and tethered so that you couldn’t run off.

“Most of the wildlife will go away if intimidated, but at times you might need to attack them. I am not going to give you any firearms yet though,” John looked over at them, his voice  firmer than you usually heard it, “That will come along the way, if needed. We can discuss other weapons later on.”

The mere idea of John giving them any kinds of weapon made you want to throw up - or throw a fit. Had he gone fuckin’ mad?? giving them guns? They were going to shoot everyone, going to kill John and you. You really didn’t want to die.

“My farm includes these - and these fields. You will not and I repeat not, leave my land without a valid reason. There will be punishments if you do - you will all be given collars like another certain puppy–” all eyes watched you for a moment and though, you wanted to hide  your face in your hands, you didn’t, merely crossed your arms, ignoring the low laughter from Nikolai behind you, “that are fitted with trackers, so I will know if you do.”

Great. So hoping for them to run off wasn’t a possibility for now.

“Biting or attacking my staff in any way will result in severe punishments. You will lose privileges if you don’t do as told, without a valid reason. Is that understood?”

“Yessir.” 

“Good boys. Now, these upcoming days you will most likely be following me or Laswell around, while we get you in on all these. All dinners will be eaten in the main house and you will be given keys once I get them made one of these upcoming days. I will give you a couple of hours now –” Price looked down at his wrist watch, “Then call you in, an hour or two before dinner, so that you all can shower. Any injuries, allergies or anything that the Hybrids’ Den didn’t write down, that I need to know?”

They all shook their heads, behaving like synchronized swimmers in your opinion. 

“Good. You’re all free to relax here or explore the farm if you wish so, when the drugs wear off.” 

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

As you entered the farm house, you shrugged off your jacket and abandoned your shoes in the entrance, not caring to clean up after you, ignoring John’s irked huff.

“Insane!” you declared, walking further into the house, “You’ve gone insane! You’re all going to forget about me and those horny knotted mutts will be all up in my business!”

You flopped down on the couch, face first, continuing your ranting into the fabric.

“I might as well barricade myself inside my room - Because I dont have a tiny house!! but guns! SURE ! give them guns!” Your voice was muffled, but you were, perhaps a tad dramatically, loud in your ranting. You could just make out whispering between the two men but you didn’t care… not until you were forced to, quite literally.

“Little puppy,” Nikolai’s accent was heavy - his body even heavier as he settled on the back of your thighs, a fist coming to rest next to your head, that kept his full body weight from you, “Throwing a fit again, da?” 

You could feel the slight bulge against your fat ass, making you swallow - and tail wag, hitting Nikolai against the thighs, making the man chuckle. John as well, who settled down with a cigar in one of the arm chairs opposite the couch. You didn’t even need to look to know that he watched as Nikolai tugged at your skirt.

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

Eaten Bunny

Smut (Defloration, first-time sex, deep penetration, orgasm, creampie, belly bulging, whining, rough sex, ass spanking, sex filming)

Chapter 14

1642 Words 

(Nayeon offers her body to the CEO after saving her and her mother. As a grateful CEO, you take her offer and use her body, not realizing it is also Nayeon’s first time.)

You can't help but grin at your work; Nayeon is an utter mess. She randomly twitches from her last orgasm and is out of breath from the stimulation. 

“Please, no more. My body hurts.”

“We're just getting started.”

She tries to lift her head and says, “What? It's not done yet?”

“Of course not; this was just an appetizer.”

Nayeon, with no energy, crashes back onto the couch and rethinks her offer.

Suddenly, she yells as you pick her up and carry her towards one of the rooms. “Wait, what are you doing?”

“The main event, obviously.”

“Wait, now?”

“Yeah.”

“Let me rest a bit.”

Nayeon stares at the wall, trying to muster up some energy as she tries to get over her last orgasm. 

You're excited to fuck another girl, especially Nayeon. You remember the positive reviews she has gotten from many of the trainers, and getting a chance to fuck her this easily is a blessing.

You take off all your clothes and walk towards Nayeon who is laying on the bed, “Ready?”

She struggles to lift her head but does so with the little energy she has, “Wait, please.” You spread her legs open enough to get a full view of her swollen cunt.

With your cock in your right, you drop it on top of Nayeon's cunt and rub it against her lips. “Dang Nayeon, you have some nice tender lips.” You realize you won't need lube by how wet she is and coat your member with her nectar. 

Nayeon watches as you press your cock in between her swollen lips, her heart begins to beat faster and faster as she realizes what's going to occur.

”You said you want to show your appreciation to me, right?” as you grab nayeon by her chin. She nods, “Yeah, I do.”

”Then show it to me.”

You climb on the bed and rest your body against the pillows. Nayeon notices your smug look and understands what you want her to do. She musters up the energy and climbs on top of you. She grabs your semi-limp cock with her large hands and begins to slowly stroke your cock. 

Little by little, your cock wakes up from its nap and stands strong and proud, really to put in some work. Nayeon realizes that it might be too big for her to handle, but she knows she can’t go back, not after what you did for her and her mother. 

She lifts herself up and hovers just a few millimeters away from your length. She looks directly into your eyes as she lowers her body into your cock. 

You watch her reaction change as she splits herself open and tries to adjust herself to the first few inches when her hand splits, causing her to fall onto your cock in one go. 

Nayeon screams in pain, her eyes watery as she takes your whole length. She tries to pull herself out, agonizing in pain, and sees your cock covered in a thin coat of blood. “Ahh, it hurts!”

You see Nayeon panic, squirming around, not knowing what to do. You grab her hand and say, “Nayeon, it’s okay. Look at me; it's going to be okay.”

Nayeon, who is still in pain, nods and grips onto your hand tightly. “I didn’t know you were a virgin. Thank you for giving your first time to me, now I’ll take it from here” and flip her over. 

Now, in a mating press, you slowly begin to thrust inside of her newly deflowered cunt, trying to mold it into your shape. She holds your hand tightly and looks into each other’s eyes, “Oppa, it… it hurts so much. I can’t do it, I’m going to break.”

” It will only hurt for a bit longer; just bear it, okay?”

“Okay, I trust you.”

With your free remaining hand, you pull her in closer and increase the strength of your thrust. You try to get her adjusted to your length as quickly as possible, even if it means her suffering for a bit longer. 

“Oppa, you’re breaking me; my insides feel like they are going to split open; please, I can’t.”

”Just a bit more; your body is just trying to get used to it, just hold on; just?”

Nayeon closes one eye and bites her lip, wanting to stop herself from screaming. She sees her belly bulge every time you thrust your cock inside of her, which scares her, not knowing if you’re going to break her.

On the other hand, you’re met with Nayeon’s tight walls. It’s trying to resist you as much as possible, which makes it painful for Nayeon, but you prefer it that way. The more you see her struggle, the more it turns you on. 

“Fuck Nayeon, you’re so tight! It feels so good!” 

“I feel good?”

”Yeah, I love the way you wrap yourself around my cock.”

”Ummm, then I don’t mind if you go harder.”

”Are you sure?”

”Yeah, I want you to feel good.”

”But it might hurt a bit more.”

”It’s okay; it doesn’t hurt as much now; I can take it.” 

With Nayeon’s approval, you pull out your cock, covered in her reddish juices, and slap it against her cunt before putting it back inside. 

“Oh fuck” yelps Nayeon when your cock reaches the end of her womb. She tries to mask her expression and just focuses on the way you smile every time you hit her womb. 

You feel hotness building up in your core, and let Nayeon know you're about to cum. Surprised by your comment, she doesn’t know what to do and just says, “Oppa, cum if you want.” 

“Then, I’ll cum inside of you.” 

“Wait, inside…?”

“I’m going to fill your freshly fucked womb with my cum, so take it all!” You grab Nayeon’s hips and put your weight on her thighs, trying to go as deep as you can. 

Nayeon feels a hot sensation of cum shooting inside of her, covering her untainted womb, “So full!”

“What do you think?”

”It’s so warm.” 

Nayeon watches as you pull out your cock from her cunt and sees a large amount of cum ooze onto the sheets. Curious, she presses her stomach, making more of your batter come pouring out of her. Tired, she lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling and taking in what she just did.

It is then that she realizes what her mother has always mentioned before reluctantly letting her go training as an idol, “If you’re going to have sex, make sure you use protection.”

”I need to use the restroom,” and she makes her way towards the end of the bed, trying to get herself cleaned up. She then feels you grab her leg and says, “I’m not done yet.”

You grab her by the waist, push her down, and get behind her. “Who said you can go?” 

“I just need to use the rest…” and isn’t able to complete her sentence. She then feels the tip of your cock press against her entrance, and you put your whole weight on her. She groans as she takes your length in one go, “Oppa, not so rough.”

”This is rough,” and give her a hard thrust, which makes her choke up from the sudden movement. 

“Ah! Ahh… hmmm!”

Nayeon now enjoys the way your cock scrapes against her walls, even when it hits the back of her uterus. “Oppa, rougher… ahh.”

”Like this?” Slapping her ass. Nayeon yelps, “Ahh, that hurts!”

You slap her ass again, but with additional force, making her cheeks ripple. Nayeon bites onto the bedsheet as you continue to spank and fuck her from behind. “I’m going to make you into my toy, Nayeon; what do you say?” 

There’s no response from Nayeon, and notice that she’s grabbing onto the bedsheets. If she wants to play it that way, you can do it too. You continue to slap her ass until it’s completely red. Nayeon can’t hold anymore; she’s at her limit and lets go of the bedding, “Okay, I’ll be your toy; just don’t slap my butt anymore; it hurts so much.”

”No, you didn’t answer when I asked you the first time,” and continue to slap her until you reach your peak once more. ”Tell me, where do you want me to cum?”

Nayeon, at first, is hesitant to respond but realizes that this might be the only chance to stop you from spanking her. She says, “Inside me.”

”Be more specific.” 

“Please… please cum inside me.”

”Be specific.”

”In my cunt. Please cum inside me, my cunt you just deflowered. Breed me, please!”

”That’s my girl.”

Just like that, you give her one last thrust and fill her womb full with cum. The amount of cum you pump inside of her, causing her belly to bulge as if she was pregnant. 

Nayeon, now exhausted, becomes limp, laying on the bed like a used onahole. You get up, head to the drawer, and get your camera to photograph your latest work. “Nayeon, smile.”

Nayeon gives a faint smile as you take multiple pictures with the bed and her lower region covered in cum. 

“I’m going to take a shower; you can join if you want.”

”Hmm… okay.”

She eventually gets up, goes to the drawer, and sees your phone light up with a message that says, “Video successfully uploaded to the cloud name, XIDOLS, file: “IM NAYEON_01,” realizing she’s not the only one. 

[raspberrybesitos]

just married | frankie morales x f!reader

Main masterlist

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~2k

Summary: You and Frankie just tied the knot. Half way through the reception, your insatiable husband whisks you away for some much needed privacy.

Warnings: fluff, oral (f receiving), fingering, exhibitionism (sex in a private bathroom), unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), creampie, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N.

A/N: happy frankie friday! this is based off this post, i could not for the life of me shake this from my head. literally wrote this in an hour, i’m telling y’all i’m actually going insane. the brain rot is actually concerning. FRANKIE NATION RISE! 🫡 anyway, i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼 i loveeee me some frankie 🫠 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. 🏃‍♀️

Divider by @saradika

“Come on, hermosa,” Frankie rasps in your ear, moving his hands from your hips and grabbing your hand, a small smirk playing on his lips. Music booms from the DJ’s speakers, the dance floor lively and vibrant.

“Where are we going, baby?” You ask, your gown flowing freely as your new husband swiftly maneuvers you through the crowd. “You’ll see,” he shouts over the thrumming music. Your body buzzing with excitement and a smile, so big it hurts, adorns your face.

Leading you out into the hall and racing up the stairs, giggling like a couple of school children. Frankie drags you to the bathroom at the end of the hall, flinging the door open and guiding you inside.

He grips your hips and crashes his lips onto yours, swallowing your dissipating giggles as he presses you up against the door and locks it. You whimper softly as his hands begin to roam your body.

His hands roam your backside, making his way down to your ass, giving it a firm squeeze. “Frankie!” You squeal, breathlessly, laughter bubbling over your lips as you pull back for a bit of air.

A toothy grin breaks out into his face. “I’ve missed you, hermosa,” he pants, the both of you breathless from running and desperately kissing each other.

“I’ve missed you too, baby.” Not having had a moment to yourselves this whole day, you two bask in this brief moment of privacy.

He brings you in for another insatiable kiss. Your hands tug at the hair at the nape of his neck, making him groan into you. Snaking his hands down your waist, he cups your mound in one hand. You moan into him as your brows scrunch in pleasure, grinding against his hand.

“I’ve been wanting to do this all day, baby,” he groans, guiding you to the sink, pressing your backside up against it as he peppers kisses to the column of your throat. “You look so fucking gorgeous, baby, this goddamn dress is driving me crazy,” he whispers, nipping your neck. 

“You’re driving me crazy, Frankie,” you gasp. “Look so fucking sexy in that tux, baby.” He smiles into your skin, working his way back up to draw you in for another kiss. You moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue inside, arousal pooling in your panties and sticking to your sex. Swallowing every moan that pours into his mouth, he pulls back, your lipgloss staining his lips. 

Crouching to his knees, he bunches your gown up over his head and moans at the sight of your lacy panties paired with your garter. 

“Fuck, baby. So fucking wet for me all fucking the time,” he whispers huskily as his large, warm hands run along your thighs. He slides your garter down your leg, tucking it into his back pocket. 

Propping you up onto the sink, he spreads your legs and presses a kiss to your sex. You moan at the feeling, aching for more. One of his thick fingers prods at your entrance, parting your lips and allowing your husband a view of your glistening pussy.

“Please, Frankie,” you plead breathlessly, tossing your head back. 

“Yeah? My pretty little wife wants me to eat her pussy? Huh, mi esposa?” You moan, eagerly nodding as you clench around nothing. Frankie doesn’t miss the way your thighs squeeze together.

“What my wife wants, my wife gets.”

Without warning, Frankie dives in and licks broad stripes up your folds, gasping as you bite back a moan with your eyes rolling to the back of your head, attempting to be quiet. 

“No no, baby. I wanna hear you. They can’t even hear us with the music, it’s just us, baby - just me and you,” he says before diving back in and licking through your folds, his strong nose nudging your clit and your eyes flying open.

“Oh fuck, Frankie!” You moan loudly, eyes squeezed shut as you toss your head back, caution blown to the wind. You snake a hand into Frankie’s curls, tugging at them and eliciting a groan from your husband. The vibrations against your cunt send a new wave of arousal seeping from you, Frankie lapping up every drop as he drowns in your slick.

His tongue prods your entrance, fucking into you. He groans at the way you clench around him, chest rumbling in satisfaction. 

It’s sloppy, and hungry the way he laves at your weeping cunt. His tongue circles your clit relentlessly, your cries filling the air. His lips wrap around your swollen bud as his grip on your thighs tightens. Your hips involuntarily buck up into his face. He snakes his left hand up to your stomach, ring-adorned hand pushing you down and holding you in place. 

“So f-fucking good, F-Frankie, oh my god,” you keen above him, legs wrapping around his back as you try to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. His relentless pace creates a cloud of stars in your eyes. 

“I’m close, Frankie! So close, don’t stop! Please don’t stop, baby,” you yelp, tears of pleasure stinging the corners of your eyes as the coil in your belly tightens.

A sudden intrusion pulls a sharp gasp from you. Two of his thick, long fingers crook into that spongy spot with every stroke as he sucks on your clit. 

His fingers, his mouth, the ring on the hand which pins you down overwhelms you - he’s all-consuming. 

Your vision flashes hot white as the coil in your belly snaps, cumming all over your husband’s face and his fingers. Frankie laps at your juices as you grind your cunt into his face, thighs trembling while riding out your high. He groans as he slurps you up like the sweetest nectar, not wasting a single drop. Your whines fill the air along with a squelching sound as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you. 

He pulls back and rises to his feet, his patchy beard glistening with your slick. Slamming his lips onto yours, the two of you moan into each other. The taste of yourself on his tongue makes your head spin.

Frankie ruts his hips into yours, his clothed cock brushing against your exposed cunt and a loud cry pouring from your lips at the sensitivity. Wrapping your arms around his neck to draw him closer, you buck your hips against his, seeking more stimulation.

“Lean back for me, baby.” he rasps as he pulls back, gently pushing you back against the mirror. He makes quick work unbuckling his belt and shoving his pants to his ankles. You suck your bottom lip in between your teeth, mouth watering at the sight of your husband’s angry, leaking cock. Unable to resist, you palm him in your hands, smearing the dribbles of precum along his throbbing length. Frankie stifles a moan, moving your hand away and lines up his cock at your dripping hole.

Swirling small circles around your entrance, gathering the new wave slick that pours from your cunt on his length.

“Frankieeee,” you keen. “No teasing, please, amor,” you huff, on the verge of tears as your desperation grows.

“I got you, amor, don’t worry,” he whispers in your ear. He slides in slowly, but smoothly in one go, your slippery folds allowing him easy access. Both of you moan in tandem, Frankie’s brows pinched together and your lips parted.

You’re so full, relishing in the dull sting as he stuffs your wet heat to the brim. “Move, baby. Please move, mi amor,” you plead, breathless and desperate, seeking some relief.

“Shh shh, it’s okay, baby. I’m gonna take care of you, I always will,”  He says, voice hushed and husky, placing a kiss to your forehead. 

You know his words run deeper than just the matter at hand, having promised to love you eternally just hours ago.

He slowly drags out of you ever so slightly before snapping his hips into yours, his tip punching your g-spot. His hands rest on your waist as he picks up his pace. The room sounds pornographic - filled with the sounds of your squelching pussy, skin-on-skin, moans, and pants.

“I’m the lu-luckiest man ever. Got the prettiest girl ever to m-marry me. Knew you’d make a beautiful bride, hermosa. Most beautiful f-fuckin’ bride in the world, my pretty little wife. Get to, shit, get to love you and fuck this tight little pussy every goddamn day for the rest of our lives. Fuck,” he rambles, hips canting into yours.

Clenching around him at his words, more slick drips from your weeping cunt and onto the counter. An endless string of moans tumble from you and into the air.

“S-so fucking good to m-me, baby. So l-lucky to be your wife,” you keen, pressing your forehead against his. He hungrily captures your lips in a ferocious kiss, teeth clashing together as neither of you care how messy you two will look after.

“My wife. You’re mine, baby, you’re mine forever,” he moans as his tip kisses your cervix. Your walls flutter around him, your second orgasm rapidly approaching.

“Come on, baby, come on, baby. Let go, hermosa. I know you’re close. Let me feel you, I got you, baby,” he babbles almost incoherently. You wail as your orgasm washes over you, convulsing under his grasp, twitching uncontrollably as slick endlessly streams from your cunt. “There we go, baby. Good girl. So fucking good, hermosa. Always feel so fucking good,” Frankie groans against your lips, his thrust growing sloppy as your slippery cunt sucks him in.

“Love you so much, Frankie,” you gasp. “Love you too, hermosa,” he grunts. You can feel him throb inside of you.

“Cum, Frankie. Fill me up, please, baby,” you beg, still riding out the high of your climax.

“Yeah baby? Want my cum? Want me to stuff you full and walk around our wedding with my cum dripping out of your tight little pussy?" 

A high-pitched moan escaping your lips, you squeeze tightly around him. “Yes, Frankie! Wanna feel it dripping down my legs under my dress,” you squeal, overstimulation starting to sink in.

"My dirty fucking girl,” he rasps, punctuating his words with every thrust as he shoots warm ropes of cum into your cunt, coating your walls with his seed. A guttural groan rumbles from deep within his chest. Slowing his pace, you whimper as he fucks his cum into your used hole.

He rests his clammy forehead against yours, breath fanning each other's faces. Post-coital bliss settling amongst you two, the faint humming of the music from the reception rings in the air.

“Do you think they’ve noticed we’re gone?” You ask, panting. A deep chuckle rattles his chest, making you laugh. “I’m pretty sure they have, hermosa.” You pull him in by his tie, kissing him languidly. He pulls back and presses a playful tap to your thigh.

“Come on, baby. Let’s go before the guys start talking shit,” he says, helping you to your feet, and wiping his spend from your mound and in between your legs. He settles your gown into place as you fix your makeup in the mirror. He fixes his hair while you adjust his suit and tie back into place. You beam as you lock eyes with his, love shimmering in the corners of them. He entwines his fingers with yours as he leads you out the door and back downstairs to the reception.

It seems nobody has noticed you two were gone, or just don’t question your absence, as you two mingle your way back into the crowd.

“Hey! Where the hell were you two?! It’s time for the bouquet toss!" You best friend, and maid-of-honor, screeches.

"And the garter toss!” Santiago, the best man, chimes in. They drag you both to the dance floor. Women crowd the dance floor as you toss your bouquet over your shoulder, your best friend catching it and eyeing her partner. 

Music blares as Frankie leads you to a chair in the middle of the dance floor. He teasingly lifts your dress to remove your garter, to be met with nothing. Your eyes bug out of your head, heat coursing through your veins.

“Where’s my garter?” You ask him. Santiago appears behind Frankie, taking something out of his back pocket and holding it out to Frankie. “Here it is!”

Laughter erupts amongst your guests as you hide your face in your hands, an embarrassed smile plastered on Frankie’s lips, meekly waving to the crowd. He pries your hands from your face, playfully rolling his eyes as he brushes off the embarrassment while helping you to your feet. Cheering and whooping fills the hall as you smile apologetically to the crowd as they roar, Frankie cupping your face and pressing a lingering kiss to your lips.

Frankie is rotting my brain today obvi. this one's for all my Frankie girlies out there, shout out to y’all 🩷

thank you for reading! 🫶🏼

tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartspedro @jenispunk @amanitacowboy @bastardmandennis @nostalxgic @tinygarbage @party-hearses @mandoisapunk @harriedandharassed