Twin Beads | Luke Castellan

I’ve been seeing people vastly misunderstanding the whole point of the shootout scene, so I want to share my analysis here. It’s not just a redemption for Chishiya, and not just a way to make Niragi seem deep and complex. It’s a way to compare the characters of Arisu, Chishiya, and Niragi, and show their adaptability to change.

To begin, the initial main focus of it all is Chishiya. He has just left the King of Diamonds venue, and has realized that he is jealous of people like Kuzuryuu who are able to die happily with a purpose. He is seeking to speak with someone, to open up about his inner turmoils. That is when he gets caught between Arisu and Niragi, two ends of a morality spectrum he is struggling to find his place on.

Now, why does Niragi start this shootout? He says that he, Arisu, and Chishiya are all too similar, and due to this only one of them can live (although, it is later evident that it is for this very reason all three of them survive). Niragi doesn’t say they are similar in regards to their actions in the games; he says this in regards to how they are all inherently selfish people at the core. They put themselves first and foremost, whether intentional or not, and hurt those around them as a result.

For Arisu, this makes more sense in the context of his manga characterization. Manga Arisu has the unintentional tendency of doing things for his own sake when he thinks he has the group’s best interest at heart, and his speech mannerisms mainly revolve around his own feelings. He is selfish without realizing it. The shootout finally makes him conscious of this, and makes him want to remedy this. He is adaptable to change for the better.

For Chishiya, this has been evident from the beginning. He will manipulate and use others for his own gain, without worrying what happens to them afterward. He never goes out of his way to help others, but at the same time never directly hurts them either. He has and recognizes this selfish indifference towards all facets of life. However, the games make him envious of people like Arisu, who are adaptable to change.

For Niragi, it has always been obvious how he embraces his selfishness. He enjoys going out of his way to hurt others and make them suffer. He becomes the abuser to keep from being vulnerable. He is the oddball out of the three, because despite everything, he does not want to change.

Their selfishness is just the example that Niragi gives, but there are other things they have in common as well. Their upbringings, for one – they all lacked love and affection in their home lives. What makes them different in this sense is that Arisu had Chota and Karube to hold him up, who made him more friendly and optimistic towards life. Chishiya had no friends, but no enemies either, which led to his indifference towards life. Niragi had abusers, which led to his hatred and resentment towards life. There’s also how they all initially wanted to stay in the Borderlands; Arisu because he wanted to avoid his real world responsibilities, Chishiya because he was intrigued by the intellectual stimulation and death of the games, and Niragi because he could thrive in a world without laws. But they all eventually came to the realization that they wanted to leave; Arisu first due to escaping and finding a reason for living, Chishiya next due to realizing he needs to reject the offer to truly change, and finally Niragi not because he changed, but because he simply wanted to live.

As you can see, they are all similar characters at three different levels of intensity. Arisu at level one, the level where he is still capable of goodness. Niragi at level three, where he is too far gone and considered evil. Chishiya is stuck in a morally gray area between the two, trying to figure out where he should place himself.

Anyways, back to the shootout. Chishiya came here to talk to Arisu because he wanted to change for the better. But then Niragi came and pulled him backwards, halting his progress. The shootout is a battle of moralities; a push-and-pull between Arisu’s good and Niragi’s evil.

The whole point of this scene was to give all three of them time for introspection. Who are they currently, and who do they want to become? Niragi’s comment about all of them being similar spurs their answers. Arisu is disgusted at the realization of being so similar to Niragi, so he quickly puts his gun down and pledges to change. Chishiya is inclined to distance himself from Niragi once he sees Arisu’s resolve, and only puts his gun down to become uncharacteristic and save Usagi. And Niragi, upon seeing the other two take this chance to renew themselves, realizes that he was foolish to believe anyone could be like him in the first place. He truly is alone in this world, and he only has himself to blame for it. He never lets go of his gun – he fires. And in that split second, why does Arisu pick his gun back up after vowing to change? He does it to save Usagi. To not be selfish and shoot Niragi out of his own hatred, but for the sake of saving Usagi’s life instead. Saving Usagi is the turning point for Arisu’s character, and for Chishiya as well. Niragi’s attempt to kill her demonstrates how he never wanted to change to begin with.

So yes, Niragi was right in saying they are all similar in terms of their selfishness. But he was wrong to believe that they were kindred to him and could not change.

TLDR; all three of them are foils, bound together by their inherent selfishness. This shootout is the defining scene for their characters. Arisu is adaptable to change, Chishiya struggles with his alignment but ultimately chooses to change like Arisu, and Niragi was never meant to change in the first place.

📸 fishIuv

In the Dark, Dark Woods

-> Summary: On a dare from your friends, you search the woods surrounding the city of Detroit for the infamous werewolf.

-> Pairing: Werewolf Android! Connor x Human Fem! Reader

-> Rating: 18+

-> WC: 5.2k

-> Warnings: blood, violence, tension, abo dynamics (from connor), knotting, claws, monster! Connor (but still mostly human looking) smut, kissing, biting, Connor’s claws cut r but she likes it, eating out in both places, r is mentioned to have smaller boobs but I think it’s only mentioned once, love at first sight (kind of), mdni

-> Notes: this is my first abo fic, and it’s actually more werewolf! Connor and not abo in the sense that no other android/humans have an abo designation lol. If you’re not into this sort of thing, don’t read it. And no I do not care if the geographical stuff (like the cave) is wrong. Anyways, please leave a comment and reblog if you enjoyed! not proofread

The rickety branches of the sprawling trees above creak in the howling wind. There was a sense of unease in the forest tonight, as if it was being disturbed, seen by unworthy eyes. And it was. 

You shouldn’t be here. 

You don’t belong in these woods, surrounded by wary glowing eyes of critters in the shrubs and encased in a barrier of twenty foot tall trees. And yet, here you are. 

Searching for the “monster in the woods”, as your friends so eloquently put. Brent and Josie, your best friends, had dared you to search the forest outskirting the city of Detroit. 

The monster? A seven foot tall werewolf, if the cryptid websites were to be believed. 

Let’s hope they’re wrong, you think. 

Your hands have long since become numb in the chilled Autumn breeze, and you can just barely see your breath billowing in front of your lips. It curls up like smoke from a dragon, before you can no longer see it due to the dark sky. You flick your little flashlight to the left, the light illuminating a pair of glowing eyes — before they suddenly disappear. 

What the fuck? Just a rabbit…, you hope to yourself.

A branch snaps behind you, and you whirl around, coat flaring out at your sides. You beam the flashlight every which way, but you don’t see anything of note. 

A burst of wind tickles the back of your neck, hot like steam.

Wait, hot?

You lunge forward, but you hit a rock and tumble to the cold forest ground. You hit your stomach hard, and quickly scramble to your back to see what was breathing down your neck. 

Your eyes sweep across a chest and strong arms that end in clawed hands, and then — you suck in a sharp breath. Strong jawline, full lips, and an aquiline nose. Eyes that seem to glow in the dark. You can’t see much else due to limited light, but you know one thing. This is the werewolf that haunts the woods. 

And he’s beautiful, devastatingly so. 

“Why are you here?” A deep voice, raspy from disuse, cuts through the silent night. 

You gulp, mouth suddenly as dry as cotton balls. 

“I-I… are you… going to kill me?” You ask. 

You notice a blue circle flick to blood red on the side of his right temple. An illuminated circle that looks strangely familiar to the androids — the ones that chose to keep them after the revolution, back in the city. But this man — creature? — couldn’t be an android, could he? 

“Kill you?” He tilts his head to the side. “No… no. Not unless you give me a reason to.” 

His voice hardens at the end of his speech, and he spreads his legs apart more, ready for a battle. 

“Why are you here?” He questions. 

You cautiously stand on unsteady legs, “To… to find you, and looks like I have.” 

A snarl curls his lip, and you hear a low mechanical noise coming from his throat, almost like a growl? He launches at you, so fast you have no time to react. In a second, you’re on the ground again, pinned down by the strong legs and arms of this man. So close, you can see the glow of his eyes. Like burning amber, they lure you in. You can also smell him; He smells like a breeze that blows through the surface of a lake, and you find that you don’t… hate it. His hair is shaggy, down to his shoulders and hanging like a curtain between you. 

His fingers grip your throat, claws digging into the delicate sides. You can barely breathe, and your fight or flight instincts kick in. You choose to fight. Your legs kick out as best they can pinned by this man, and you bring your hands to his broad shoulders, pushing and pushing. He doesn’t budge, only digs his claws in deeper. You feel blood drip down the side of your neck, leaving a hot trail. 

“P-Please!” You barely get out, fingers clawing uselessly at his hands. Something flickers within those amber eyes, and his grip loosens, slightly. 

“Who sent you?!” He growls, low within his throat. 

“What?! Just… my friends!” You cry, tears biting into your cheeks. He’s not making any sense, but nothing is really making sense to you right now. 

“Don’t lie!” 

“I’m not! M-My friends w-wanted me to - to see if the m-monster in the woods was real!” You barely manage to get your words out, vision dotting around the edges. You suppose, if you are to die, dying at the hands of a hot man would be your ideal way. Just when you think you’re going to pass out, the werewolf releases his grip. Air rushes to your lungs, and you suck in greedily. It burns, but you don’t care. You could have died!

The werewolf examines you, eyes glowing… beautifully in the moonlight. You gaze back, smoldering in anger and… desire? He leans in, a furrow between his brows, wrinkling the skin there. You have an impulse, that you just barely manage to control, to smooth your finger over the area. 

His LED goes back to blue, and he grunts as he gets off you, offering his hand to help you up. You debate flipping him off, but you don’t. He pulls you up without much struggle. 

“What’s your name?” You ask, brushing leaves off your ass and coat. 

“Connor.” 

Not much of a talker, you muse.

You state your name in reply, and the two of you stand in awkward silence. 

“Your… friends told you to find me? Why?” 

You start to say something, but a shiver wracks through you, and you can see his LED flare red at the movement. His eyes scan your form. 

“You’re cold?” 

You nod, rubbing your hands together in an attempt to get feeling back. The werewolf, Connor, gently takes your hand, and he starts leading you deeper into the woods. You should feel scared, but you don’t. Your heart isn’t racing anymore, and you feel calm. Like you’ll be safe with him. 

“Where are we going?” 

Connor’s brown hair reflects in the moonlight, the glow surrounding him like a halo. 

He looks like an angel.

“I have a house, you’ll be warm. Safe.” 

You quirk a brow even though he can’t see, “A house? Here? How has no one found you?” 

He’s silent the rest of the way, soon leading you into the mouth of a cave. It’s dark, and you shuffle closer to the tall man. Connor releases your hand, cold sweat breaking down your forehead at being alone — but then, light. 

“This is hardly a house,” you snipe. 

“It’s been my home for more than four years; I’m sure you’ll manage for one night.” 

Connor kneels in front of a fire pit, the rising flames illuminating the cave walls and the man in front of you. Warmth seeps into your bones, and you almost let out a moan at how delicious it feels. While you get heated up, you take in Connor, who has once again turned to face you. 

His tall form is clarified from the firelight. His hair is brown, falling to his shoulders in luscious waves that make the tresses look silky soft. Your fingers twitch, itching to run the appendages through the hair. 

Continuing down, his chest is broad, with sparse black hair on his pectorals, running down his stomach. The hair under his bellybutton trails down, down, down to… oh fuck, he’s very naked. And very endowed. 

That’s fine, totally fine. Nothing I haven’t seen before, you think, but it feels different this time. And you’re not sure why. For now, you’ll just ignore his lack of clothing.

The werewolf is silent in your perusal, and you’re extremely curious, so you continue. His thighs are thick, hairy, and his feet are clawed. Other than that, along with his wicked sharp fingernails, he looks almost… normal. 

Your eyes skid to his, surprised to see them boring so intently on your form, as well. You’re not naked, and your thick jacket hides much of your body, but that doesn’t seem to stop Connor.

You cross your arms, inching backwards to the entryway. Connor shifts forward. 

 “I promise I won’t tell anyone about you, but you need to let me go,” you demand. 

“It’s going to storm soon, best if you stay here.” 

You quirk a brow, “And how do you know that?” 

Connor smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. 

“I can smell much better than a normal android.” “How can I trust that?” 

“I can smell the moisture in the air signaling rain coming, the perfume you’re wearing from here, the sweat on your neck, the mud and grime on your clothes, and the fact that you’re arou —.”

“Okay! I get it!” 

Your body heats up more at the knowledge that he can smell it, and you shift from foot to foot. Why are you so attracted to him? 

“Don’t you have any clothes?” You ask, sniffling.

“I have no use for such things,” he replies. 

It’s gotten a lot colder in the cave, wind billowing inside and making the fire flicker. You half worry that the wind will blow it out completely. 

Then, you hear it. 

The pitter-patter of rain droplets, before it intensifies. Looks like Connor was telling the truth. 

“If you won’t let me go, at least tell me what you plan on doing to me.” 

Connor sits by the fire, placing his hands open palmed in front of it, even though he can’t feel temperature change. 

“Nothing. When the weather clears, you’re free to go.” 

“Just like that?” 

Connor nods, sending you a tight lipped smile. His expression is solemn… like he doesn’t want you to leave. If he’s been here for a while, he must be lonely. You purse your lips. 

“There’s a small spring further in the cave if you want to… wash off. You smell filthy.” 

You bark a laugh, a bit offended, but finding it amusing nonetheless. You reach to your shirt, sniffing it and recoiling at the smell. Mud and twigs latch onto your pants and coat. You could definitely use a bath, but do you trust Connor enough to be that vulnerable when he’s around? 

“Okay. Where is it?”

Your words surprise you, but in your heart you know he won’t do anything. 

He stands, and without a word starts walking further into the cave before abruptly stopping, causing you to bump into his back. 

“It’ll be dark. I forgot humans can’t see without light. Do you still have your flashlight?” 

“No, I dropped it when you rushed me,” you mumble bitterly. 

Connor grabs your hand, his large fingers curling around yours. He radiates warmth, and you shuffle closer. 

“Will the water be cold?” 

“No, this cave has an abnormal amount of geothermal heat the further in you go.” 

You don’t speak after that, relying on Connor to guide you. It’s so dark, and so quiet, you can even hear the soft whir of Connor’s mechanisms in him. It’s strangely comforting, and subconsciously your fingers tighten around his hand. Connor stops, and you look ahead at the sight before you. 

Moonlight streams through a small opening in the ceiling, highlighting a small spring that looks just deep enough to submerge your body. It’s beautiful. Your mouth parts in awe, having never seen something like this. Stalactites hang from the ceiling, just barely visible because of the light. 

“Wow, would you look at that? It’s gorgeous.” 

Connor smiles, releases your hands, and turns to face you. 

“Yes, it is. I come here often to meditate. The smell of the water is soothing to me. Honestly, I haven’t seen much of the world, but it’s the only thing I find beautiful,” he shyly glances at you. “Until now, that is.” 

You rove your eyes over him again, before stopping to look into his glowing eyes. You’re speechless at this moment, overcome with longing. Longing for what, though? 

Connor seems disappointed when you don’t say anything, mouth turned into a little frown, and eyes seeming impossibly wider. Puppy dog eyes. 

Which is fitting. 

“I’ll bathe here, then,” you say, mentally facepalming. Where else would you bathe? But Connor seems pleased, nodding before heading back the way you both came. You inhale, before shucking off your clothes as fast as you can, and take a step into the water. It’s warm, and you groan at the sensation. It feels heavenly on your stiff muscles. 

You scoop up some of the clear water, pouring it over your hair and sighing in bliss. You make sure to wash the dried blood from your neck, and under your arms and privates. You don’t know how long you stay in the water, long enough for your fingers to prune. Just as you’re about to get out you hear footsteps behind you, and you tense. 

You turn your head so you can peer over your shoulder, hands coming up to cover your breasts. Connor stands at the edge of the spring, a furrow between his brows and a frown on his luscious lips. 

“Are you okay? You’ve been here for a long time,” he asks. 

You breathe a sigh, the tension leaving your shoulders. He’s just worried about you, which is much more appreciated than the thought that he was finally coming to off you. But somehow you know he would never do that. 

“The water is relaxing.” 

Connor nods. 

“I suppose I should get out now, though. Could you turn around?” You say, voice barely above a whisper. 

The android turns without a word. You get a delicious view of his taunt ass, and you smile at the mole that’s smack dab in the middle of his left cheek. You raise your foot on a ledge that juts out, but the water makes it so slippery, and you fall into the spring with a yelp. 

Strong arms are around you in seconds, and your head breaches the surface. You gasp for air, fingers coming to rest on Connor’s broad shoulders. 

“I’ve got you, relax!” He yells, pressing you tighter to him when you shake. Truthfully, the water isn’t deep enough for you not to reach the bottom, so you’re fine, and you don’t need Connor to hold you. But his arms feel so nice around you, and your heart is racing, and you can’t help but moan a little and arch into him. With how close he is, you can feel every inch of him. His strong thighs, chest, and his erect cock. 

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be… be aroused, I just,” he fumbles, and tries to release you from his hold. But this feels like it was meant to happen, and you can’t deny the way he’s made your heart race with something since you’ve met him. You’re attracted to him, and you think he’s attracted to you, as well. 

“It’s okay, I… liked it.” 

You step from his arms, backing up a little. You note that you immediately miss his warmth and hard press against your soft body. Connor’s LED flashes yellow, and he tilts his head in that adorable fashion. 

“You did? I thought — thought you were scared of me? Disgusted by me…,” he mumbles the last part, and whatever shell you had around your heart breaks. 

Ever since he brought you here he’s been nothing but kind and considerate. He built you a fireplace, gave you shelter against the storm (even if you didn’t know it was going to storm. Thanks, weather app), and led you to the one place he finds beautiful. You might have been scared of him, but you never thought he was repulsive. It’s time you said that. 

“Connor, I don’t know why but… I feel this pull to you. This connection. I may have been scared,” hurt flashes across his face. “At the start! But I never thought you were disgusting. In fact, I’m quite attracted to you…,” you’re mumbling by the end, embarrassed. 

But Connor looks like you’ve hung the sun and the moon for him, and he steps towards you, and you think he’s going to kiss you. Instead, Connor wraps his arms around you, and squeezes you as tight as he can without breaking your bones. You feel tear drops hit your bare shoulder, his body shaking imperceptibly against you. Raising your hand to his hair, you gently stroke the strands, resting your forehead against his shoulder and giving the skin there a kiss. Connor leans back, staring into your eyes before slowly trailing to your parted lips. You lick them unconsciously, and Connor narrows in on the action, pupils blowing with lust. 

You barely have time to breathe before he’s surging forward and capturing your lips with his. Vibrant colors burst behind your eyelids at the sensual strokes of his lips with yours. 

His lips are soft, which would have surprised you had you not known that androids were built to imitate humans and what made them human. You press your lips firmer against his, moaning when Connor brings his large hand to encompass your small breast. He squeezes firmly, thumb running over your taunt nipples. Breaking from the kiss, you gasp for air. 

“Connor, fuck!” 

“Do you like that?” He whispers, LED yellow and eyes focused solely on you. He lowers his head further to your neck, running his nose on the slope of skin. He inhales your earthy scent, cock hardening even further. Was that even possible? Since he had laid eyes on you in the woods, stalking you from afar, he knew something was different about you. 

You whine at his question, back arching. Water sloshes between you two, and it’s then that you remember you’re in the spring still. 

“We sh-should get out,” you whisper, hands pressed to his shoulders. He nods, and within seconds you’re out of the warm liquid, and he’s leading you back to the fire. It hasn’t dimmed in the time away, and you notice an animal pelt on the ground. You must have missed that earlier. 

Connor turns your head to look at him, and you lean up to kiss him. You can’t get enough of him; he’s everywhere all at once; His taste, his feel, his scent, washing over you and grounding you. 

Swiping your tongue along the seam of his mouth, Connor grants you access. His mouth tastes like nothing, and you notice that his tongue has hard bumps on it, but they aren’t unpleasant. You tilt your head to the left, curiously running your tongue over those bumps. 

Connor pulls away, heaving for breath even though he doesn’t breath, resting his forehead against yours. 

“I was built for a specific purpose, but I never made it far enough to learn what that was before the revolution. They’re my sensors,” he explains, but you’re given no time to digest that information before he’s gently guiding you to the ground, and kneeling over you. 

“S-Sensors?” You mumble, curving closer to him and his touch. 

“I’m equipped with over a million sensors that give me real-time data, I’ll be able to taste everything that makes you, you.” 

Oh god, you think, chest heaving at the thought. Your cunt clenches around nothing, and all you can think about is his thick tongue thrusting into you, tasting you. How much would he be able to taste? 

“Connor, please… touch me,” you cry, trying to press your thighs together to relieve some of the ache growing in your core, but his knee stops you. 

“Where… Here?” He says, running a featherlight fingertip across your collarbones, staring with his golden eyes into yours. 

You notice that they’re mostly brown, but flecks of amber that seem luminescent glow within the depths. They momentarily distract you, luring you in like a moth to a flame. 

Connor pinching your nipple snaps you out of it. 

“How about here?” 

His voice is so deep, so light, it fills your head and makes you float through the air, never wanting him to be silent. You’re dizzy, pussy soaking wet and aching for his touch. 

“N-No, please, lower,” you sob, undulating against his knee which is pressed against your bare sex, but it’s not enough. No matter how you move your hips, press your folds and clit against his skin, it can’t quench your thirst. 

Connor let’s out a dark chuckle, and you catch a glint of fangs before you’re lost to your lust again at the trail of his fingers down, down, down. 

His fingers slide along your sticky folds, wet with your arousal. He parts the flesh, fingers teasing your opening. Connor’s finger dips just barely into your cunt, and you shake with such desire it’s almost palpable. You can feel his claw skirt gently against you, and although you know there is no way he could have his fingers in you with those claws, that doesn’t stop you from begging. 

“Pleaseplease Connor!” 

Connor tilts his head, shaggy hair dancing in his eyesight. He’s leaning against one forearm above your head, and you can see a cruel smirk on his face. Connor uses his thumb to rub circles on your clit. It’s so much, too much, and already you’re on that precipice — you want him to take you past that edge, past the cliff that you’re teetering over. Something that no man has been able to do before. 

Connor can smell your arousal wafting from your cunt, and you smell so good and wet, he just wants to devour you. But not yet — he won’t give you that until you’re begging him to taste you. 

“What do you need, love?” He murmurs in your ear, trying with all his willpower not to flip you around and breed you on his cock. He wants this to be about you, not him. 

“Fuck, your tongue, your mouth, everything, taste me please,” you beg, eyes scrunched shut and hands fisted in your hair at the intense pleasure his thumb is giving you. But it’s not enough, you need to be filled. But one glance down at his erect cock and you know you won’t be able to take it without being stretched. And since his fingers are no use… 

Your breathing stops when you notice a bulge at the base of his cock, on the top side. Those aren’t his balls, so what are they? Connor follows your gaze, and his chest rumbles in a laugh. 

“My knot.” 

“Your what?” You ask, a bit incredulous. Your head is swimming. He is so different from other androids, but even though he has so many unique qualities, none of them scare or disgust you. They just make you curious. 

Connor, unfortunately, thinks the opposite. His LES flashes red, and he leans off you, bottom lip tucked between teeth. 

“I’m sorry, I know it’s… unsightly. I don’t have to use it on you, if you don’t want to. I don’t even know if you can take it…,” he mutters. 

“No! No, I want to, to feel all of you. I want you to give me everything. Please,” you whine. You breathe a small sigh of relief when his LED goes back to that beautiful blue. 

Connor doesn’t wait, positioning himself between your legs and throwing your legs up and over his shoulders, lower half of your body raised so your twitching cunt is directly mouth level with him. 

You watch as Connor just stares and stares and stares. Your cheeks burn, and you try and you shift in embarrassment. 

“Don’t just s-stare,” you whisper, and his eyes hone in on you. He looks angry, and you gulp. 

“Why shouldn’t I worship a work of art?” 

Your heart stops at his words, overcome with such… happiness.

Connor dives in, using his tongue to lick through your folds. It feels strange, those bumps of his giving his tongue an even more rough feel than a humans, but you find that you don’t hate it. Connor groans loudly, whispering something reverent into your cunt, before he’s pressing you closer to his face, claws digging into the skin of your thighs. You can feel the sharp sting as they cut through your skin, but you don’t care. You like it. The cutting pain mingles deliciously with the pleasure his tongue is stealing from you, and you buck your hips against him — clit bumping into his nose at the action. 

“Connor, Con, Con,” you beg, tears of rapture spilling down your hot cheeks. He ignores your pleas, focused only on bringing you to that edge and well past it, again and again. 

He’s like a man starved, lapping and suckling, scraping his teeth against your clit. Connor licks at your folds and draws that sweet nectar from your core, and you almost die when his lips trail past your opening, and down to the puckered hole of your ass. No one has ever touched you there, but you aren’t nervous. You weren’t lying to Connor when you said you wanted everything he would give you. 

The first flash of his tongue on your hole is strange, different. 

The second is like an aphrodisiac. 

And at the push of his thick muscle in the tight entrance, earth shattering. 

“Oh god!”

Connor smirks cockily, and you can feel it against your skin. His tongue is lazily thrusting in and out, and he brings a hand up to rub your clit, occasionally dipping ever so delicately in your drenched opening. Your bundle of nerves is pounding like it has its own heartbeat, it’s so stimulated you’re not sure how much more you can take, all thoughts filled with the werewolf in front of you. 

You come hard and fast, a steady pulsing in your clit as he keeps on circling it. It’s like he knew exactly when you were going to come undone, because one minute his tongue is inside your ass, and the next it’s inside your cunt, while your slick floods onto his mouth. You can see his eyes roll back in his head. 

“You taste so good,” he murmurs into you, and you’re so overstimulated that you have to physically drag his face away from your cunt. 

“Too much, too much,” you cry, but you can feel your pussy still clenching, still aching with the need to be ravaged by him. 

Connor smiles warmly at you, bringing your fingertips to his lips to press hot little kisses against them. Your heart thumps faster, you feel so loved and cherished, and you know that should freak you out — you haven’t known this man for long, but you don’t. It feels right, perfect. 

You’re overcome with the need for him, and — surprising both of you — you take your hand and snake it between the two of you, grasping his hot cock and aligning it with your entrance. 

Connors’ eyebrows are raised, and he looks at you for confirmation. 

“I’m sure, I want you. So bad, please,” you say. 

Connor leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that curls your toes. 

“It might… hurt, tell me to stop if it does, and I’ll stop,” he says, and your heart swells at how much he cares. This whole time, it’s been about you — the fire, the spring, getting you off so many times before he even thought about his own pleasure… 

You nod, and then Connor replaces your hand on his cock with his, and slides his cockhead up and down your slit, smearing the cum. He presses his hips forward, and his cock squeezes through the tight ring of muscle at your entrance. Already, his cock is splitting you open, and you can’t help but tense. 

Connor, sensing your tight walls get even tighter, uses his thumb to rub circles into your clit, and bends to capture your left nipple into his mouth. He suckles the taunt bud, grazing his fang against the skin and grins when he can feel your walls relax, and a breathy moan leaves your plump lips. His cock slides in even more, and you cry out in pleasure when he pinches your clit. 

“Keep going keep going, fuck fuck,” you whimper, eyes screwed shut. You plaster your hands on his biceps, bucking your hips to try and take more of him. Finally, after what feels like forever, he bottoms out inside you. Connor’s hips are flush with yours, and his fingers still against your bundle of nerves while you both take deep breaths. 

He slides out half way, and shallowly thrusts back in, testing the waters. You moan in unison, your blunt nails digging into his biceps. It’s not enough force to make his skin fade away to the alabaster shell beneath all androids have.

“You feel fucking — divine,” Connor gulps, undulating his hips in more forceful drags. You’re a blubbering mess, chanting his name before switching to oh god, oh god. 

Connor impales you over and over again, cock hitting you in places you never knew existed. He’s like the puzzle to you, completing you and making you whole. 

“Gonna come, wanna knot you, please, can I?” Connor strains out, cheeks tinted blue and biceps bulging with restraint. 

“Yes, yes fuck, knot me Connor,” you airily say, and Connor drives his cock all the way inside you opening catching on his swelling knot. It’s a tight squeeze, but he forces the bulge through your opening, and stats burst beneath your eyelids at the pleasure of it. You feel thick ropes of artificial semen paint your walls white, and when you shift your hips, you find that Connor physically can’t move from your cunt. He’s completely tethered to you, and it’s that knowledge that brings you to a crescendo, before you drop off the edge. You come loud and abrupt, throwing your head back and spine arching off the stone floor. 

After, you’re both breathing heavily, but you can still feel Connor coming inside you and locked from that knot. 

“How… how long will it last?” You ask, eyelids heavy. 

Connor slumps against you, forearms resting on either side of your head. He kisses you softly, gently running his tongue along the seam of your mouth before he answers. 

“A few minutes.” 

You nod, resting your arms around his neck. In the afterglow of sex, you have time to think of all that happened. You don’t regret it, far from it, and you want to continue to see Connor… but how would the world react to an android like him? 

“Are there others like you?” 

Connor shakes his head, hair tickling your neck and making you giggle. 

“Not that I know of, why?” You can see his LED flicker to red, and you know he must be feeling anxious. 

“I just… want to continue seeing you, but I don’t want the outside world to hurt you, once they see that you’re not a ‘human’ android,” you ramble. “I mean, uh, if you wanted to… live with me, or something. You could stay here, of course!” 

Connor raises his head to grin at you. 

“You want to see me again?” 

Of course that’s all he got out of that. 

You roll your eyes, but nod with a smile. 

“I do.” 

“Then we’ll have to figure something out, won’t we?”

Dirty cop

Summary: You're a deviant, and conner gets aggressive interrogating you. You shouldn't be turned on by this, but you are. He's so intimidating. Sexual tension rises once he realizes you're aroused by this. As a final interrogation tactic, he gets you two somewhere more... private.

Content: aggressive conner, small spaces, choking (kind of), degrading kink, mentions of murder, reader explains their crimes while getting fucked, I'm bad at pacing so just read slowly

Holy fuck

Holy fuck

I'm in a lot of trouble

I stand uncomfortably in the room I was instructed to wait in. I could run. I should run but I don't want to risk it, guards and guns everywhere. I don't want to risk that yet.

Suddenly the door clicked open. "Thank you, officer " I heard a husky voice say before entering. Another android, it looked like he worked for the police, strange. He was fairly tall, six feet even, brown clean cut hair, nice jaw, freckles peppered across the face, doe brown eyes. He seemed to be fairly kind looking on exception for his expression. Stiff and neutral, not the most welcoming.

"Android number 618 725 210-43 you are under investigation for the murder of Daniel Lane." I swallowed hard. I knew what I did was wrong, but something inside of me snapped. I was doing my regular deliveries when I saw that man mug a poor woman. I just couldn't let him do that. I didn't mean to kill him. It was an accident.

He slowly walked in front of me, he was uncomfortably close, I could practically feel him breathing on me. His stare was burning into my face. "Do you have no mercy, Deviant? Do you not realize what you've done?"

Holy shit.

He's really leaning into me now. God, he's close. I can't help but feel a blush on my cheeks. "What? Not gonna say anything? Hm? " Stay calm. Stay calm. Stay calm. Don't say anything. Maybe he'll think im not a Deviant.

He doesn't back away. Not even blinking. He's just burning a hole into me. "Say something. I know what you are. I know what you did." His voice rumbled into my ear, he was sturn and terrifying. Suddenly I felt hot. My ears were burning.

No way. I can't. I can't get aroused by this. I can't. not right now... oh my God, this is hot.

Suddenly, I was pushed against the wall. The force in his strength was no laughing matter, I was I'm deep shit. But God, somehow, it made me more aroused.

Hurt me

"Do you know what they'll do to you when you're convicted? They'll tear you apart! You're begging to be torn apart, aren't you?" I tried to control my breath, tried to calm down, but it wasn't working. My nerves were high and won't go down. Fear was muddied with lust, leaving me helpless.

Helpless

He slammed me against the wall again, this time holding me by the throat. We both knew we didn't breathe. Not really. Sure, androids have faux lungs, but really, it's just to give the illusion of breath to humans, make them look more life like. Not that he cared. It was the intimidation tactic that he wanted. The fact was I could barely move with him holding me like this. I tried to struggle around his grasp but it only made him grip harder. My heart rate escolated. "Arn't you??" He repeated, more aggressive, yelling now. My knees buckled. Holy shit no I shouldn't be aroused by this.

He leaned closer, his breath was rough against my faux skin. His eyes dug into mine for a moment, and they shifted. Analyzing. Then his brows twitched. And realization sunk in. His expression was something in-between smug and disgust. "You're aroused by this Arn't you?" He questioned, his voice the same mood as his face.

My heart dropped when he said it. He was so loud too, surely anyone in the next two rooms could hear it. Shame, fear, lust all bubbled up inside me. Everything he did further drove my lust, and it was making me crazy.

He had no response to my silence. It seemed he was still processing. Assessing his next move.

Shit.

After a moment, he squinted at me. Then, I grabbed a fist full of my shirt by the collar, dragging me with him. He pushed open the door of the interrogation office and dragged me with him.

"Connor, where the fuck are you going?" A call from an older man immigrated from behind us. "They clearly don't want to talk with an audience. I'll try to see what I can get out of them when we're alone." He stated flatly.

Before I knew it I was thrown past a whirl wind of doors and next thing I know I'm somewhere isolated. A cramped and dim room. My breath was heavy and out of control, my heart thumping against my plastic shell. What is happening??

"Clearly, traditional intimidation doesn't work on you." He droned, creeping closer to me.

Oh my God. Is this happening?

"So let's see what will get you to speak." He pulled his tie loose, draping around his shoulders. His slow movement never faltered from getting closer to me. I was instinctively backing away, but I wanted this. I knew whatever this was, it was going to get me in trouble, but I may as well die like a champ.

His jacket and shirt were un buttoned. He didn't bother to take them off. It seemed he knew the conservation was a tease, further causing me yern for him. My butt hit something hard. I quickly turned my head to see it was a countertop of sorts. It was cool against my fingertips. Just as my gaze focused in front of me again, he was pressed against me. The fabric of his clothes rubbing against mine. His hips rolling roughly against my core. I pressed my lips together, suppressing a moan. Holy shit this was really happening!

One of his hands gripped my neck again, pressing my head against the cold wall behind me. His eyes stared unbreakingly into mine as he continued to grind. I could feel myself getting hot, my heart beat growing quicker. Fuck. Whatever he was doing was working, and it made it hard to focus.

The pressure suddenly alleviated from my Groin when I suddenly heard a zip and the sound of more fabric shifting. Suddenly, his hands were on my pants, he roughly unzipped them and pulled them down. "Is this what you wanted?" his tone was more impatient than lustful, not to say lust wasn't there. "Answer me." He firmly stated. I let out a wine, trying to press myself against him, but he swiftly gripped my hips to render further movement, causing me to let out a more desperate wine. "Y-yes." I whispered desperately. "Then tell me what happened."

I tried to push myself against him, but it was no use. He was too strong. "I-i was delivering. I was assigned an address to drop off a pizza." His stare continued, urging me to continue. "I... I was on route until I heard screaming. I... I looked around, trying to assess any danger when I saw a man mugging someone. A woman. She was crying. " I looked desperately at him. Give me something. Please. He didn't budge. "T-then something inside of me changed. I knew I had to help her. I couldn't just let it happen."

Suddenly, something pushed inside of me, causing me to gasp. His hips slowly pressed against mine, streching me out. He was big. Dear Lord, he was big. It was overwhelming, and I was beginning to lose track.

"Good. Now tell me what happened." He rumbled. I began to clinch around him, trying to adjust. The led on the side of his head began to wildly flash yellow, his jaw clinching, eyes fluttering for a moment. Only a moment. But I caught my attention. "Something in me b-broke. I broke from my programming, I guess. Next thing I know, I dropped the pizza box, and I'm sprinting at the man." I swallowed hard, trying to keep my thoughts in one place. "I had to protect her. I attacked him." Keep cool. Keep cool.

"How exactly did you attack him?" His hips teasingly rolling against my core before stopping. I couldn't help but let out a soft moan. His led flased yellow for a split second. "I... I started by throwing him off balance... then I threw a punch. He fell back but managed to catch himself, and he sprinted at me... He was able to get a few good hits in."

A movement began to happen between my thighs. His dick was slowly pumping inside of me. Not by the movement of his hips, no, not like a person. It was robotic. It was the base of his shaft. "Keep going." He demanded firmly. I gripped the countertop, suppressing whimpers as I tried to keep my train of thought, but it was getting harder and harder to keep grasp on it. "I-i ended up using... his weapon as my own. Not to kill him. I just needed to... to weaken him." A whimper slipped from my lips but I continued "eventually I tried to shove him away again, much harder than before. I tried to tell the lady to run but she seemed to badly injured to do so. Next think I know he... he's dead. He must have hit his head. I didn't mean to kill him swear. I- I swear I just wanted to help someone."

Conner trusted much faster now. As well as taking his hand that was on my hips and using it to press against my clit. His fingers began to vibrate. I couldn't contain my moans anymore. It's mutch. "Then you fled with the woman to the hospital and hid. Why did you hide?" He grew aggressive again. His hand tightened around my throat. "I felt guilty. I panicked. I had to mutch to explain to the nurses. No matter what I said, I felt I couldn't do it right. I ran because I was scared."

Fuck his whole body waight was pressed against mine. I melted into him. He could do whatever he wanted with me at that moment, and I would have been fine with it. I just had a need for him. I was desperate. "See what happens when you cooperate well?" He teased half coldly. Leaning in to place a sloppy kiss on my shoulder, and that was my breaking point. Everything in my system ran into overdrive as I reached a climax. Visual systems flashing in and out of function He seemed to let out a few pants and moans, too, which let me plumet deeper into pleasure. He began to rhutt against me desperately, his whining growing more frequent. My heavy lids slid open, trying to observe him. His led flash changing from yellow to red temporarily before going back to yellow.

I don't know how much time had passed. But it seemed he was collecting himself. It took a few minutes for his led to return to blue. For my systems to return to normal. But once we were all collected, he quickly redressed himself, combing out his hair. I tried to as well. I wasn't sure what else to do. "That's what it took for you to tell the truth?" He finally stated, coldly. My heart dropped. I wasn't sure what I expected but I wasn't that.

I didn't even know how to respond. I softly shook my head "I suppose so." I whispers back, defeated. "Is that what it took for you to complete the mission?" I quipped back. I felt awkward as hell, but it was the first thing that came to mind. He stiffened for a moment, clinched his jaw and then continued to fix his tie "it seems we're both desperate party's."

There was a heavy awkwardness in the air before he finally grabbed my wrist and dragged me out of the room, walking me back to the interrogation room. "It seems you enjoyed it too." I offered. Not sure why, but I couldn't stop thinking it. He stopped suddenly, looking at me. "I enjoyed nothing. I simply did what I needed to complete my assignment." "We both know that is a lie. I heard the sounds you made. I saw your led." Something in his expression shifted for a moment, calculating. "What matters is that you confessed. We're done here." He demanded sternly. I need to get out of here. Before they destroy me. "Connor." I squeezed out. "What?" He asked, irritated. "How many miles from here to the movie theater?" It was a dumb question, I know but that's what I needed. I needed to throw him off. Plus, the theater was close to the busses. If I can get on the busses, I can escape this. "What?" His stern and flat expression quickly became confused. I repeated the question "one and a half miles -" I ripped my wrist from his hand and ran.

To be honest I knew he can catch me. He's more agile than I am but I had a shot and that's what mattered. I sprinted down the hall twords the glass doors, throwing them open. And darting into the snow "HANK" I heard conner call behind me. Fuck.

I must have blacked out, but somehow, I made it to the bus on time. Just barely avoiding them.

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

Hank and connor stood in the snow. "Shit!" Hank cried, kicking a pile of snow. "I'm sorry Hank, I wasn't fast enough. " Hank took a moment to catch his breath, looking around agrivatedly and finally turned to conner "what the fuck were you doing mingling with the Deviant?" "What?" "Don't play dumb, Connor, Jesus christ!"

Pt.2

F.I.N.E || MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x teacher!reader Summary: When your student gets injured and you can’t get hold of her parents you try call an old contact number hoping he can help. Warnings: slight angst, fluff WC: 3.4K

Max frowned at the unfamiliar number calling him. If it wasn’t for the fact it was a local number he would have ignored it but since few people had his personal number he decided to answer it. Immediately he was hit with the sound of high pitch cries and a soothing voice softly singing a lullaby that eased the knot of anxiety that had formed in an instant. 

“Hello, is this Max?” you asked when you realised the dual tone had stopped and the call had been answered. You shifted the child carefully on your lap and grabbed the old enrolment form to see the name again. “Max Verstappen?”

“Maxy?” the girl in your arms echoed with confusion.

“Yes, who is this?”

“Miss Y/L/N, I’m one of Penelope’s teachers. There’s been an incident and I found your number under her emergency contact list.”

“Oh no, sorry, there must be a mistake. You should call her mother or father. I’m not, we’re not, um, I shouldn’t be on that list anymore.”

You cringed as another piercing cry deafened your ear and you rubbed the little girl's back. “It hurts,” she whimpered.

“I know, sweetheart, someone will be here to get you shortly,” you replied softly and you hoped it was the truth. “Look, Max, I’ve tried every other contact number and no one is answering. Is there any way you could come down here? At least until I can get in touch with someone else.”

Max pinched the bridge of his nose but when he heard P’s shuddering cry he knew he had to go. “Okay, I’ll be there shortly.”

Max didn’t care if he got a parking ticket, he took the loading space right outside the preschool building. He likely would have gotten a speeding ticket too in his rush to cross the city but thankfully there weren’t any police in his path. 

“Maxy!” 

Penelope wriggled in your arms as she spotted the stranger walking into the classroom. His eyes immediately found her and he crossed the space to where you sat holding her.

“Hey, P,” he greeted with a smile and knelt down at your height. “What’s happened, bug?”

Her little eyes welled up again as she lifted her bandaged wrist. “I fell off the playground.”

“I don’t think anything is broken but I would suggest having her doctor check to be sure.”

“I don’t know who her doctor is. I don’t even know what I’m doing here.”

“You’re contact details were-”

“Those must have been from when she started. Her mother and I haven’t been together for a while.”

“Oh, I see. I’m sorry to put this on you. I swear I tried every other phone number we have.”

Max nodded and his sigh sounded exhausted as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “I just need to make a call. I’ll be back in a minute, bug.”

Max walked along the room, looking over the children’s artwork as he pressed his phone to his ear and waited. Eventually the call went to voicemail and his spine straightened tensely. “Kel, I’ve picked up P from daycare and I’m taking her to the hospital. Call me when you get this.”

You could see the man was stressed when he returned and his short hair pointed in all directions from the hand he kept nervously running through it. It was cute.

“Daniil is in Italy this week for work,” Max said as he returned to your side and picked up Penelope’s Prada backpack before opening his arms. “I’ll keep trying to get a hold of Kelly. Come on, bug.”

Lunchtime was coming to an end and children were starting to file back into the room, a few of the older ones stopping at staring wide eyed at Max. He was tall but not that tall or formidable to draw such a reaction but your question was answered when one of the boys ran to his picture on the wall. Timothée unpinned the drawing of a race car and ran up to Max, holding it out with a pencil.

“Sir, can you please sign this?”

Max looked used to the attention and took the pen with a polite, “Sure.” He stared at the picture for the moment after signing it and chuckled. “Is the RB20?”

Timothée nodded eagerly. “It’s my favourite.”

“Mine too,” he said as handed the picture back and smiled as it was crushed happily to the boy's chest. Max then carefully picked up Penelope, slowly so she wasn’t jostled, and his arms brushed yours. 

“If you need anything you have my number,” you reminded as the weight was lifted from your lap. “Children can be a little overwhelming if you’re not used to it.”

Max smiled fondly at Penelope and shook his head. “This isn’t new. I still have her room set up.”

“You do?” Penelope asked hopefully and Max turned his head as he cursed to himself. “Are we going to live with you again?”

“No, no, sorry, P,” he said softly. “I just haven’t had time to redecorate.”

“Oh.” You both winced at the defeated tone and you knew the fresh tears had nothing to do with her arm this time but you were saved by the bell as it spurred Max to toss the bag over his shoulder and look to the door.

“I hope you feel better soon, Penelope.”

“Thank you, Miss Y/L/N.”

“Thank you,” Max echoed with a nod before departing.

All afternoon you were distracted with thoughts of the two of them until the final bell rang and you grabbed your phone. You had sporadically tried to contact Daniil and Kelly again but the calls went straight to voicemail every time and you found no returned calls.

Y/N: How is Penelope? Max: She is happy watching The Little Mermaid. She has a sprained wrist and the nurse complemented the bandaging so you should be proud. Y/N: And how are you? Max: I’m fine.

Max swore as the pot of water boiled over and he hissed as he grabbed the handle to find it was just as hot. He dropped his phone reaching for the teatowel and then P started calling out from the living room complaining that the movie was boring - the same movie she watched a thousand times and she had specifically asked for.

Y/N: My mentor used to tell me that stood for: freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional. Are you sure you are fine?

After turning the stove down to a simmer and wiping up the mess of water that had splashed across his floor he went and changed the movie to what would hopefully last longer than ten minutes before she changed her mind. Taking another attempt at making dinner, he grabbed a bag of pasta from his pantry and poured its entirety into the pot.

Max: I’m thinking I am definitely neurotic and possibly starting to freak out. Y/N: I couldn’t have that on my conscience. My offer still stands if you need some help. Max: You don’t have anyone you need to get home to? Y/N: My cat prefers his own company unless he’s hungry and he’s already been fed today so no. Max: I don’t want you to go out of your way. Y/N: I wouldn’t have offered if I wasn’t willing to follow through. Let me help. Please?

Max smiled at his phone before sending his address and looking around to see how tidy the place was. His jacket was tossed on the table instead of being hung up and Penelope’s bag was spilled across the entryway floor, not the first impression he wanted to make.

You entered the port address into your phone and locked the classroom behind you, feeling a little unsteady at the thought of seeing Max again. Penelope was a sweet child and she seemed comfortable with Max but you hadn’t really ever heard her talk about him before. You told yourself the only reason you were going there was to check on your student's wellbeing, but a small part of you wanted to see Max again.

You wondered if maybe he hadn’t heard your knock on the door or that you had the wrong apartment and you rapped your knuckles on it again before he called out. There was a crash and then a groan close to the door before it swung open and Max balanced on one leg.

“Uh, is everything okay?” you asked as he clutched his foot.

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” he rushed before he caught the teasing curl of your brow and he froze before a smile grew on his lips. “Right, freaked out, insecure, neurotic and emotional.”

“You’re a quick learner.” You stepped inside at his invitation and he closed the door behind you while you rushed towards the burning smell in the kitchen. “Oh, wow.”

“Fucksake,” Max grumbled as he grabbed a wet tea towel before reaching for the tray of garlic bread in the oven. “Ouch, shit!”

“You said a naughty word,” Penelope called out from the next room like it was something that she regularly commented on. “That's another 20.”

Max sighed heavily as he looked at a jar on the bench that was already filled with cash. “Shit.”

“I heard that.”

“Shouldn’t you be watching your movie?”

You giggled at the amusing conversation before turning the tap to cold and taking Max’s hand. “Wet towels and hot trays make steam.”

He watched you guide his hand under the water and flinched as it hit the burn mark on his palm. “I don’t usually cook, if you couldn’t tell.”

“The life of a bachelor. Keep your hand there.” You moved with ease around his kitchen trying to save what was left of dinner but paused at a huge pot of pasta that had swelled up and pushed the lid half off. “Are you expecting a dozen other people?”

Max shrugged innocently. “I didn’t know how much to put in.”

“Well the good news is the top half is edible,” you stated after finding a colander and draining the pasta until only a thick layer remained stuck to the bottom of the pot. “Do you have any sauce?”

“Sauce?”

“What were you going to have with it?”

“Garlic bread.” You both looked at the charred sticks still smoking on the baking tray.

“Do you mind?” you asked as you pointed to his fridge and the cupboards around the kitchen.

“No, please. Go ahead.”

You checked the fridge first and you were pleasantly surprised to find it well stocked with fresh fruit and vegetables. “Do you live off salads or does all this go to waste?”

“Neither, my nutritionist comes by twice a week and he prepares the meals.”

For a moment you had forgotten his profession. You had googled his name after Timothée couldn’t stop talking about meeting the ‘Max Verstappen’. “That must be intense, and restricting. Does your social life suffer?”

“It’s not so bad. I still get to go out for dinner and have a few drinks when I want.” He started to pull his hand out from under the water but you tutted and caught his wrist, holding it back beneath the cold stream.

“Keep still,” you warned with a voice you saved for children who weren’t listening. “It needs 20 minutes under there.”

“You want me to stand here for twenty minutes?”

“No, science wants you to stay there for twenty minutes.”

“Are you a teacher or a nurse?” he asked with a playful roll of his eyes.

“Depends if it's halloween.”

His loud laugh made you smile and you eased your grip on his hand one finger at a time to see if he would stay where he was. He did. “I’ll behave, Miss Y/L/N.”

“You can call me Y//N.”

“I kind of like calling you Miss Y/L/N.”

You checked to see if he was serious but thankfully there was a teasing smile on his face before you returned to the fridge to gather some ingredients.

By some small miracle dinner can’t have been too bad since everyone cleaned their plates of the pasta, though you thought they were likely being polite since you could still taste the hint of smoke from the bottom of the pan. Penelope had spent most of the meal asking Max if he remembered what they used to do when she lived there, how they used to go travelling and shopping. You got to see first hand how much patience the man had as he answered each question despite how it made him uncomfortable.

“You miss her,” you commented after she had gone back to the tv. Max started to collect the dishes with you and sighed as he placed them in the sink. 

“It was a big change when they moved out,” he spoke quietly and you stepped closer so you could hear better. “She kept asking if she did something wrong.”

“That must have been hard for you.” His eyes widened and you wondered what shocked him, but you had a feeling it was the fact someone showed concern for him. Even though you didn’t know the details of the break up, it was clear he had and still did care for Penelope and you felt sorry for him. “Can I hug you? I’m a hugger and I feel like you could really do with one.”

“You want to hug me?”

You tried to shrug it off casually. “If you want to. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. Everyone needs a hug sometime.”

“I do,” he said quickly, very quickly, before he cleared his throat. “I mean, I-I wouldn’t mind a hug.”

You smiled at his tentativeness and stepped into his personal space, slipping your hands into the narrow openings between his limp arms and his body to curl around his waist. It took a moment for him to respond before his own arms embraced the comfort and curled around your back too.

“You smell really good, Max,” you complimented as you rested your head on his chest and caught the scent of his cologne.

“Thank you,” he chuckled, the amusement relaxing him even more until his entire body curved into yours. “I think you have playdough in your hair.”

You hummed in agreement. “Highly likely. You wouldn’t believe the places I find that stuff at the end of the day, glitter too.”

His bold laugh made you smile and you didn’t care it was at your own expense, you were just happy to know it was because of you. Unfortunately you didn’t have the chance to hear it again as his phone rang from the countertop and you saw Kelly’s name light up the screen.

“I should let you get that,” you said as you stepped back, instantly missing the warmth and his scent. “I’ll go keep Penelope company.”

Max waited for you to leave the kitchen before he accepted the call, his calm state evaporating in an instant. “What the hell, Kelly? Where have you been?”

“My phone was on flight mode, I was on a plane. Is P okay?”

“Her wrist is sprained but she’s alright now.” Max pinched the bridge of his nose and reminded himself to breathe. “Why would you leave her alone?”

“She wasn’t alone. Maria was meant to pick her up after school and I should have been home in time for dinner but my flight was delayed.”

“Who is Maria?”

“Her nanny.”

Max had to suppress the groan at the news. He knew Daniil hated the idea of a nanny and he had offered to have more custody so that P would be raised by her parents and not a stranger, but Kelly had vetoed that idea.

“Do you want to go out for dinner? I owe you.”

“No, we’ve already eaten.”

“Some other time then.”

Max made a non-committal sound, his eyes darting to the living room where he watched Penelope explain the movie to you. You were so attentive and patient, asking questions that had Penelope thinking deeper and using such a simple interaction as a learning opportunity. He could see why you suited being a teacher.

“Maybe,” he lied, “just let me know when you’re almost here and I’ll bring P out to you, I don’t want to confuse her any more.”

“Right, of course,” Kelly sighed. “I’ll see you soon, Max.”

Max made the most of the time he had left with P, abandoning the dishes so he could sit on the other side of her and watch the movie about a chef rat. She had cozied into his side with a yawn and nudged his arm until he eventually draped it over her shoulder. It was completely innocent but you couldn’t help noticing the heat of his hand touching your arm, the warmth spreading like wildfire.

The fire was doused when his phone vibrated and the moment to leave had come.

While he grabbed Penelope’s backpack, you grabbed your handbag and prepared your own goodbyes. It was silly to feel sad the evening had come to an end but you knew that you would likely never see Max again. You weren’t famous and he didn’t have children, your paths weren’t meant to cross.

“Have a good weekend, Penelope,” you said as you knelt down and gave her a hug. “I’ll see you bright and early on Monday.”

“Bye, Miss Y/L/N.”

You rose to your feet wondering where you stood with Max until he opened his arms. “Anytime you need a hug, you have my number,” you offered as you stepped into his embrace, no matter how unlikely that prospect was.

“Or if I’m feeling fine?”

You giggled and nodded against his chest. “Especially if you’re feeling fine.”

The walk to the elevator was slow, as if no one wanted the strange evening to end, but there was no stopping time as it began making its way down from the penthouse to the ground floor. The doors opened and you instantly spotted Kelly in the reception area, her elegant and effortless beauty reminding you that you still had playdough in your hair.

With one last look at the man beside you, you gave him a small smile and stepped away. “Goodbye, Max.”

He didn’t respond as you headed to the valet area but he pulled his phone out of his pocket and yours vibrated a moment later.

Max: Are you okay?

Y/N: I’m fine.

Max: Me too. Emotional, you?

Y/N: Insecure.

Max: Want a hug?

You stopped and turned to see Max hand Penelope’s bag over before struggling to separate the girl from where she clung to his leg. She didn’t know, couldn’t see how it was hurting Max, but you could. So you waited, and when the mother and daughter had departed you stepped into the elevator with the subdued man, slipping your hand into his.

The elevator rose quickly and you watched Max’s throat bounce with the deep swallow he made before he choked out a broken, “Fuck.”

“I feel like I should remind you about the swear jar,” you teased as you bumped your shoulder gently against his arm. “But I’ll let you off this once because I have a soft spot for you.”

He looked down at you from the corner of his eye and you saw some of the sadness fading from them. “Does that make me the teacher's pet?”

You gasped dramatically and clutched your chest with your free hand. “I could never bestow such high praise after just one day.”

“What are your plans tomorrow then?” he asked with a smirk as the doors opened and he pulled his house key out of his pocket.

“I don’t have any.”

“Lovely, now are you going to answer my question?” He stepped inside the apartment and opened his arms. “Did you want a hug?”

Your smile chased away more of the shadows in his eyes and the last of it was erased when you stepped into his arms with an eager nod. “I will never say no to a hug.”

His chest bounced with a laugh and you felt him rest his cheek on your head with a contented sigh. “That is very good to know.”

No mourners. No funerals. Among them, it passed for ‘good luck.

Old Man

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Joel needs glasses but won't admit it, and there's only an amount of teasing a man can take before he decides to show you just how much of an old man he is.

warnings: unprotected p in v sex, creampie, hair pulling, (joel gets a lil rough)

Ellie was the one to start it all,

I mean it's not like you hadn't noticed, but she was the one that started with the jokes.

Not very honorable of you to blame it all on the 14 year old, you knew... but still, just to get the record straight, you weren’t the one to tease him first.

“Gimmie Granpa” she had chuckled one time, grabbing the piece of paper where Maria had written down the recipe for her 'world-famous' casserole from his hands.

"Hey-" He'd protested,

"You can't see shit, man" she giggled, "Stop trying to fight it- you're getting old buddy"

And well from then on things had... escalated.

You'd yet to see a day where the poor man wasn't made fun of because of it, but truth be told, he really did need glasses.

You'd even suggested it to him more gently, in the comfort of your own room, away from Ellie's prying eyes.

"y'know baby, there's nothing wrong with getting glasses"

He'd looked at you as if you'd just told him to go fuck himself.

"Don't look at me like that" you'd smiled, rounding the bed to intertwine your hands behind his neck "It's for your own good"

"I don't need glasses"

"no?" you'd bit down a grin "you sure?"

"'m sure alright" he grumbled

"I bet Tommy would know where to get you a pair if you asked"

"darlin'"

"yes, baby?" you'd asked, hopeful

"I don't need 'em"

And you really did want to keep on trying to convince him, but then he'd kissed you and well- it must have slipped your mind.

Unluckily for him, not for a very long time.

He was in the bathroom, trying, or more specifically struggling, to open a bandaid for your injured finger.

It wasn't anything serious, just a little cut, but as you'd disinfected it, he'd insisted on covering it up, only of course you hadn't expected it to take so long.

"Baby, what's wrong, you can't find them?"

But the answer to your question was right before you as you entered the bathroom.

As I said, he was struggling.

A laugh bubbled up your throat as you took in his focused expression, the frown on his forehead, the squint in his eyes...

"Let me do it"

"No I can do it I just-" he tried to get it open again, failing miserably.

"Joel-" you smiled, walking up to him "let me" you said softly

And with a sigh, he surrendered, handing you the poor, tortured bandaid

"I could have done that" he grumbled as he watched you do it in a split second.

"Sure you could, old man" You grinned to yourself, carefully applying the bandage to your finger.

"What did you just say?"

A soft, breathless gasp fled your mouth-

He'd moved right behind you, and his hands were now on your waist.

"Jesus babe" you laughed,

"What did you say?"

His voice was rough, and his eyes... something had shifted behind his eyes.

You watched his reflection in the mirror before you as you answered

"I said I'm sure you could"

"Mhh" he hummed, his head lowering until he could dive into your neck and inhale your scent "The other thing"

"what other thing?" you feigned innocence, enthralled by his demeanor, by the almost predatorial look in his eyes

"You know what"

"no I don'-"

But you didn't have time to finish, he'd already grabbed you by your hair, pulling your head back until his mouth was ghosting yours

"you called me an old man, darlin'?"

He was a different man from a minute ago.

This was the Joel Miller people feared, the one that killed without remorse, the one that fucked you rough- the once that a sick and twisted part of you revered.

"Baby I was jokin-"

"didn't look like it" he growled, his clothed hard-on pressing into your ass making you whimper, "you think I'm an old man, babydoll?" he murmured, his grip tightening around your hair "I'll show you how much of an old man I am"

Next thing you knew, your upper body was flushed against the sink's countertop, and your shorts were at your feet, together with your panties.

You watched from the mirror as he freed his cock with the hand that wasn't holding you down, and then you felt it-

"will you look at that" he chuckled darkly, the tip of his dick sliding between your folds with ease "you're makin' a mess for an old man, babydoll"

"J-Joel" you whimpered

"no no darlin'" he cooed "You've brought this on yourself- now you're gonna be good and take it, alright?"

When you didn't respond, he yanked your head back, forcing you to look at him through the mirror

"alright?" he bent down, growling in your ear

"y-yes"

"try not to be too loud," he whispered "You wouldn't want people to know how much you like getting fucked by an old man"

You had no time to respond, to tell him how much you didn't care, because he'd already pushed himself fully inside of you, and the only thing you could do was scream.

"you can't help yourself can ya?" he muttered, watching your face contort in all sorts of bliss-induced expressions "The old man gives it to ya too good, 's that it?" he groaned, feeling your walls squeeze around him

"look at me" he ordered, pulling your hair again, making you open your eyes and watch him as he ruthlessly slammed inside of you "Look at the old man who's fuking you, darlin', don't be rude" he grinned

The sound of his skin against yours reverberated through the bathroom, and god it was nasty.

"f-fuck" you tried to speak, tears tarnishing your vision

"I know, I know" he pretended to care, getting up from where he was pressing his torso onto your back, using a hand to get you to remain flush against the sink "I'm going too slow, ain't I?"

Oh shit

Oh fucking shi-

If you thought he was going hard before... you hadn't seen anything.

You couldn't fully create one single thought in your mind as he picked up his pace, as he started literally slamming into you fast and hard enough to break you in half.

"I'm jus' an old man after all babydoll, ain't I?" he breathed, one hand still on your back while the other was still forcing your head up to look at him "You'll understand if I can't fuck you as hard as you'd like" it was like he wasn't hearing how loud you were moaning, how breathless your whines and gasps where each time his dick hit your cervix "what's that?" he mocked "you need it harder darlin'?"

"J-Joel-" you whined, begging, pleading for what you weren't even sure

"shh I got you baby" he cooed, bending down to whisper in your ear again, slowing down his pace just to thrust so fucking deep and hard into you you swore you saw stars "I know my old man's pace ain't enough for you doll"

But it was- Oh it was more than enough.

And yet he didn't care- he was going even harder, even faster, even deeper, and you... you didn't even remember your name anymore.

You could feel the thickness of his cock as it slammed into you over and over and over again, the way it would hit the most hidden spots inside of you, the ones only Joel had only ever been able to find, and then-

And then you could hear his grunts and strangled groans as he fucked you within an inch of your life, as his hair fell to his forehead and tears streamed down your face and your eyes struggled to remain open, struggled to keep on watching him as he fucked you from behind with enough force to break the fucking sink you were on.

Until it got to be too much, until you felt your stomach tighten and the fuse lighting, until he hit that secret spot once again, and all you could do was close your eyes as bliss took over your body, as waves of ecstasy washed over you.

"look at you" he groaned "coming all over an old man's cock" he breathed, your walls squeezing him too good to do anything else but follow suit "letting an old man come deep inside of ya"

It took a long moment for either of you to wake up from the sex-induced haze, but Joel was in much better shape than you, so it was him who came back earlier.

he begrudgingly pulled out, enjoying for a moment too long his own handy work before he helped you up, picking you up bridal style once he realized how useless your legs had become.

"baby" you murmured, before he could place you on the bed "You know I was joking right?" you said, leaning up to kiss him, your mouth catching his in a sweet, gentle kiss that contradicted completely the way he'd just ruined your ability to walk properly

"You're not an old man" you promised

"mh?" he hummed, kissing you again just because he could

"yeah" you smiled, melting into the kiss for what felt like an eternity

He was holding you gently, watching your eyes as they begged to close.

"good" he hummed against your mouth, watching it twist into a devious little smirk as a spark ignited in your eyes

"Although I still think you should at least consider getting glasses-"

"darlin'" he stopped you immediately "I suggest you stop talkin''"

"or what?" you bit down a grin, laughing softly

"Or Tommy's gonna be real mad when you tell him you can't make it to patrol tomorrow 'cause your legs don't work"

'taking it'

tags: sort of non-con, dark!coriolanus snow (?), fem!reader, implied sex, smut, unedited

You gasped, as Coriolanus pressed his body against yours with unrestrained passion. His movements were fervent and filled with intensity, your skin burning beneath his touch.

The sound of his heavy breathing becoming a symphony to your ears as he continued to ravage you in wild abandon, pushing the boundaries of pleasure beyond all imaginable limits.

You’ve lost count of how many times you’d cum in pleasure. “Coriolanus-, it's too much, i can’t handle it-.” Though your pleas fall upon death ears as he doesn’t seem to care about what your saying, he was already to deep in the lust of the moment to even realise or comprehend what you were saying.

"Can't get enough of you" he'd whisper, his arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you into his strong lap.

"No!" you'd moan when he pressed himself deep inside yours. His embrace seemed to last an eternity, igniting flames of desire all through your body. He wanted all of you and more, a craving that only grew stronger as time went on.

Coriolanus would gaze down to where you were intertwined and moan with delight at the sight of your passion smeared over his shaft. “God damn, you’re driving me wild” he growled, gripping your hips and lifting you up before putting his cock back in.

At this point you’re nothing but his cocksleeve. Your insides scream in pain with each passing second and your stomach feels like it's about to burst from the unbearable sensation.

You beg for him to stop, yet he continues heedless of your pleas. You know that if he doesn't take respite soon, you will succumb to exhaustion and pass out from the physical stress of it all. Coriolanus keeps thrusting into you like a mindless beast.

Not thinking of the repercussions, you tried to push him off by lifting yourself partially up from his thighs and laying your small hand on his pelvis. But in that moment, it was a mistake that you deeply regretted.

You cry out loud as he pulls you back down. His breath is hot and heavy on your skin, his whisper filled with venom as he spits out the question: "Where do you think that you are going?".

He places a hand around the small of your back, holding your hips firmly against the bed. The power of his grip immobilizes you from moving any further. You try to plead with him but it falls on deaf ears.

He stares into your eyes, his expression unreadable as he leans in closer to you. His voice suddenly softens and he smiles a small, knowing smile that sends chills down your spine.

"Look," he says in a low tone, "Just relax."

He had one hand firmly clutching your hands, immobilizing them above your head. You felt his other hand tracing down your body for more access and finally pushing your left leg to the side. "Stop fucking running away and take it," he demanded.

His words stirred something inside of you that felt liberating yet uncertain at the same time. The sensation of him positioned above you unlocked an intensity in the moment that made everything feel heightened- each breath, every action.

You shake your head back and forth, tears streaming down your cheeks. His laugh is bitter as he says, “It serves you right. You shouldn’t have spoken to that guy.”

By the way your body betrayed you once more by tightening his cock, he knew you were going to cum.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Cum for me," Coriolanus whispers as he leans down to kiss your lips and wiping away the tears with one hand that is pressed against your stomach.

His other hand reaches up to grasp onto yours, and he can feel your body quaking beneath him. "Fuck, I'm so close," Coriolanus gasps out in pleasure. His movements become more weaker as time passes.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you feel him reach his climax inside you, and the walls of your body are filled with his warmth. “So fucking gorgeous with my load in you.” he had whispered into your ear as he pulled out of you, lazily putting his body weight on you but not fully.

“You did so good, so so good.” He says as he moves up to your neck full of hickies to place a gentle kiss. His words spark something deep within you, and as he pulls away you can feel the tears beginning to form in your eyes once again.

You are overcome by a wave of emotion that you can't seem to control, but instead try to hold it back.

He seems to notice it though. "Shhh," Coriolanus whispers as he pulls you into his chest and wraps his arms around your body. You can feel the beating of his heart against yours, and you wrap your own arms tightly around him. You don't make the effort to push him off you, since you know there was no chance he would let you.

this scene got me feeling like a victorian man seeing an ankle 😔😔😔

(i need him to whimper in my ear like a needy bitch)

do not disturb

pairing- jake 'hangman' seresin x female!reader (no use of y/n)

synopsis-

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

warnings- 18+ only minors DNI, what's a plot never met her, explicit protected piv sex, lil corruption/innocence kink, choking (pls look up the correct way before doing it), hangman's dirty mouth, size kink (if jake doesn't have a big dick I'm staging a revolt), brat tamer hangman if you squint, inexperienced ish reader (tried but I'm a hoe so idk if I managed it), no kink negotiation here (talk to your partners first irl), safewords not explicitly stated but I promise this is consensual af, excessive pet names, exasperated sleepy friends to lovers

length- 4k this was supposed to be like 1k I don't know blame hangman

an- this is just smut w lil fluff sprinkles. i'm a hangman girl (read: I'm obsessed with glen powell) so I felt some type of way about being mean to him in tailspin & that's why this now exists. also idfk what this even is sorry! hope it's not terrible ok ily bye

GIF by when-in-doubt-eat-pizza

Technically, it’s the middle of the night. 

That’s why you’re burying homicidal urges when you hear knocking on your hotel room door. 

Urges that increase tenfold when you open it to see Jake Seresin, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly in an old Navy shirt that looks way too soft for your sleep addled brain to deal with right now. 

“Hangman,” you greet drily. “Why the fuck.”

Rubbing sleep from your eyes, you’re not unhappy to see him, per se, but it’s well past acceptable social hours. He’ll have to forgive your less than enthusiastic welcome. Part of you thinks you might still be sleeping.

He at least has the decency to look sheepish for waking you up. Well, about as sheepish as Hangman is capable of looking. “Coyote said he was bringing someone back to our room. Can I crash with you tonight? Everyone else is either hooking up or dead asleep.”

Fucking weddings. 

You narrow your eyes. “What if I have someone here?”

He smirks and you kind of want to slap him. 

A testament to your willpower, you sigh instead, briefly wondering if it’s really that bad to force him to sleep in the hallway, before opening the door and stepping to the side. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he drawls, letting you feel the heat of his body as he passes by you, just a touch too close for comfort.

“Cool pjs.” He smirks again, raking his eyes up and down your colorful matching shorts and shirt set. 

“Bite me.”

Hangman smiles good-naturedly causing you to idly wonder if anything has ever bothered him in his entire life. 

“You’re real cute when you’re tired,” he says instead of being offended and now you’re debating if you actually should slap him, or maybe yourself for the way his compliment brings heat to your cheeks. 

“Where’s Phoenix? Thought you were sharing a room with her this weekend.”

Your stomach drops as you consider that Phoenix might be why he came to crash in your room, and you try not to make a face at its betrayal. 

“She’s probably in your room with Coyote,” you deadpan to cover up your discomfort, and then relish in the way his mouth drops open in surprise. “Christ, aren’t you supposed to be smart, Hangman? I’m kidding, she met someone at the reception.”

You know you’re being a little more abrasive with him than normal, but you can’t quite help the jabs that come out when you’re feeling uneasy. 

And Hangman does nothing, if not make you very, very uneasy. Especially like this, with his blonde hair soft and flopping all over his forehead, that old t-shirt clearly having been shrunk in the wash over the years straining across his chest, riding up a little high above his sweatpants. 

The gears are clearly turning in his head, no doubt forming something witty to gain back the slight upper hand you’ve gained in this verbal sparring. 

You should be preparing yourself for whatever he’s about to say that’s sure to make you lose your footing. But he looks like a goddamn sleepwear model like this, mellow and soft and cuddly, eyes drooping a little from tiredness and the whiskey he was sipping on all night, clothes begging to have someone’s hands fisted in them and…okay. Stopping that train of thought right the fuck now.

Nothing but danger lies down that road with a girl like you and a guy like Hangman.

You’re contemplating if you could get away with taking a cold shower when he finally looks around your room, its distinct lack of two beds apparently killing whatever comeback he had on the tip of his tongue. 

“I can sleep on the floor.” He’s rubbing the back of his neck again and his uncharacteristic awkwardness is starting to make your skin itch. 

Message received, Hangman. We both know I’m not your type.

You’ve seen the girls he usually goes home with. Even if every single one of them wasn’t annoyingly beautiful, you already know where you stand with him. For all intents and purposes, you’re just another one of the guys. Sure, you don’t take a different conquest home every other night like the rest of them, but you banter and compete with them like buddies. 

And since you and Hangman are just buddies, you roll your eyes for appearances. “Just get in the bed, Seresin. It’s huge, I’m not going to make you sleep on the floor.”

He shrugs, like he’s giving himself credit for his half-assed offer and goes to pull his sweatpants off. You give him a withering look of disbelief, studiously avoiding looking at the way his boxers stretch over his muscular thighs. 

“It’s one hundred degrees in this room,” Hangman defends himself. “I can’t sleep in pants, I’ll die.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, considering just sleeping in the hallway yourself and ending this torture. “Is your penchant for drama genetic? Are your sisters like this too?”

He just gives you a dazzling smile in response, and you spin away from him before everything inside you melts. 

Turning the thermostat down, you shoot an evident you’re welcome stare in his direction, but his sweatpants remain in their place on the floor. He’s laid out on the bed, all tanned skin and muscle, arms crossed behind his head in a way that’s surely meant to draw your attention straight to his biceps. 

Deep breath, you tell yourself. You can do this, just lay down on the other side and don’t be weird. 

You get in and pull the covers tight, hoping the shiver that runs through you as the air conditioning kicks on isn’t noticeable. 

“And I’m dramatic,” Jake huffs, getting under the blanket and rolling closer to you. You tense, merely out of reflex and a frown creases his eyebrows almost imperceptibly before he gets comfortable on his side, pulls you into his arms. “Relax, sugar. Just trying to keep you warm, since you’re always so cold. Been told I’m like a furnace.”

By who?  You want to snap at him, but instead you swallow the words and lean into his chest. He really is warm. 

“Would never do anything you don’t want me to,” he mumbles, but there’s a trace of a chuckle in his voice that feels like he’s making fun of you.

Mocking aside, that's definitely true.

You'd never expect him to do any of the things you want him to, either. There's a reason your apprehension stems from you crossing some sort of invisible line with him in your bed and not vice versa.

"I know," you whisper, not trusting yourself to say much else without divulging all the thoughts about him you've buried deep under your comforter at home.

“How come you didn’t ask anyone else to come up and keep you warm?” Jake teases, after a few moments of silence where you were busy focusing on the whirr of the air conditioner and trying to ignore your pounding heart. 

You squint, still kind of wondering if he can feel your pulse racing. 

“The curly haired guy, from the wedding,” he supplies helpfully to answer your confused expression.

Oh. You’re surprised Jake noticed you talking to him at all. “It’s not like I wanted to sleep with him. We were just chatting.” 

“Well, he definitely wanted to.” You’d love to imagine there’s a hint of bitterness in his tone, but you know that’s just wishful thinking.

“That’s not really my thing,” you say quietly, as if he doesn’t already know. He knew enough to know you wouldn’t have anyone up here with you, after all.

It’s so much easier, laying here in the dark, not having to meet his beautiful green eyes, to be honest. All your jabs having melted into smooth, silky edges at the warmth of his body.

There’s a playful lilt to Jake’s voice again. “Sex?”

You smack him lightly on the chest. “One-night stands. I can never get comfortable enough with a stranger to have a good time, things are just better for me when it’s more involved.”

When there’s feelings, you don’t say, because you’re pretty sure he can put two and two together without you having to spell it out.

You still kind of wish you hadn’t said anything, are kicking yourself for admitting that out loud when he cuts through the anxiety of your internal monologue.

“Nothing wrong with knowing what you want, darlin’.”

“It sucks sometimes,” you admit. “It can be a little lonely.”

“Better than being with the wrong person if it’s just going to make you feel bad.”

Part of you wants to roll your eyes and scoff at him, as if Casanova Jake Seresin has any idea what that feels like, but he’s rubbing small, comforting circles in between your shoulder blades and it’s short-circuiting your brain. You find yourself running your fingers up his spine instead, playing with the soft threads of his t-shirt like you’ve wanted to since the moment you saw him at your door tonight.

“Feels nice,” he comments, pulling you in closer.

Spurred on by his praise you keep going, wandering down his back to where his shirt rides up. You look down and see that little strip of blonde hair that disappears into the waistband of his boxers, slung low enough that you can see that stupid Adonis belt on his abs. Your hand moves to the front of him of its own accord, tracing the ridges there, brushing dangerously close to the strip of elastic at the top.

Jake’s arm pops up so he can support his head with his hand, looking down at you imploringly. “What’re you playing at, sugar?”

You take your hand back like it’s been burned, cheeks suddenly hot as you realize you’d gotten carried away. “I’m sorry, I just—I didn’t think about what I was doing. Got distracted.”

He’s definitely smirking, you can practically feel it in the air above you, but you’re sure as hell not going to look up and see that self-important grin for yourself.

He pulls your fingers back to his stomach, and you can’t help but immediately brush them over his happy trail. The dusting of blonde hair surprises you a little, having expected Hangman to be too vain to leave any hair around that might distract from his physique.

You’re silently wondering if he has any hair on his chest when he catches a finger under your chin, forcing you to look up at him. You see his green eyes darkened, studying your face for something. You’re not entirely sure what.

Apparently finding what they’re looking for his expression softens, the hand supporting his head going to brush hair away from your face and you break eye contact, feeling small under his undivided attention. His fingers hover for a second, like he wants to do something more, but go to rest on your pillow instead.

“Thought that I had you pegged wrong all along for a second there, using lines to get in my pants. That’s not really my thing,” he mimics, smile twitching at the edges of his lips.

“Oh, I’m—Jake, I’m not—” you stutter, certain you must be bright red now. Your fingers are playing with the hem of his t-shirt, nervous and fidgety energy working to get released.

I’m not like this, you want to say. I’m not like you.

He exhales audibly, looking down at you, at the cherry blooming on your cheeks, at where your dainty fingers pluck at his shirt. His hand clenches once in the pillow above your head, knuckles practically white, before releasing.

“I know, sweets, was only joking. Fuck, I get that you’re a good girl,” he breathes, strained like he’s barely holding it together. “S’why I always want to ruin you.”

What.

Everything inside your mind shuts off.

All you can hear is the humming of the air conditioner, the slow intake of air into his lungs. Something inside you clenches.

You’re fairly certain a sound that closely resembles a whimper breaks from your throat, but you can’t know for sure, since all thoughts have been erased from your brain.

You hear him suck in a sharp breath, breathing in and out evenly for a couple seconds, regaining control, before he speaks again. “Sorry, sweetheart. Shouldn’t have said that. I won’t, told you I’d never do anything you don’t want.”

You already know that. That’s not the problem. The problem is how many nights you’ve already spent wishing his fingers were on you instead of your own. How many nights you've spent biting back his name, too embarrassed to let your lips form the syllables of someone who you were certain didn’t want you.

Now, though, those walls of certainty seem to be crumbling at every edge. 

“What if I want you to?” You ask quietly, barely above a whisper. It almost gets stuck in your throat, but you force your lips to form those words and let them leave your lungs.

Jake’s entire body goes tense.

But then he rolls over, putting you on your back and caging you in with his arms.

“You mean that?” He’s looking at you intensely, so intensely you might be frightened if you weren’t distracted by the weight of him on top of you, by every single scorching point of contact between you. 

All you can manage is a nod, eyes starting to glaze over as he fills every inch of your vision.

He chuckles. “Guess that’s a yes.”

Jake ducks his head to kiss you, it’s sweet, sweeter than you ever would’ve expected from him. Sweeter than you thought it would be when you were hiding beneath the sheets in your bed, with your fingers on your clit, choking back his name. 

But then he slides his tongue past your lips, deepening the kiss as he tangles a hand in your hair, tugging hard enough to make you moan straight into his mouth. His lips move down to ghost over your neck, across your jaw. 

And suddenly his words are hot in your ear. “What do you want, sweetheart? Want me to ruin you? Tell you about all the times I’ve thought about taking you apart?”

Your thighs clench together, heat blooming in your stomach and you notice, all at once, how wet you really are, slick pooling between your thighs under the wispy material of your sleep shorts. 

You open your mouth to say yes, desperately trying to find your voice, to find your familiar jabs so you can go toe to toe with him like normal, but all that comes out is a squeak. 

His hand stops at your neck, just briefly, thumb rubbing on your pulse point. And it turns every last bit of you in you to sweet, sticky, melting caramel. Your breath hitches, you suck your bottom lip between your teeth, holding back a whimper.

He’s not even doing anything, not really, but your mind immediately latches onto what he could be.

Jake’s eyes go wide for just a second before something wicked glints in the thin ring of green left.

“Thought you were so fucking innocent,” he grunts, running his thumb from your pulse point to your jaw and back again. You bring your hands to his, pulling him closer, silently asking him to press down.

You open your mouth to respond, but you don’t know how to explain. You may not do this kind of thing a lot, but you know what you like. Your imagination has certainly run wild enough times.

But any words that might’ve been readying themselves to leave your lips wither into nothing the moment he squeezes your neck.

“Jake,” you gasp, words breathy underneath the fingers around your throat. “Jake, I…”

“Hmm, what’s that, sweetheart?” His hand relents a little so you can answer, but you immediately wish he’d tighten his hold again.

“Yes, Jake,” you whine. “I want you to ruin me.”

And you don’t know what’s come over you, if you were even an ounce more present in your own body you’d probably be embarrassed.

But Jake’s head drops next to his hand at the crook of your neck, and he makes a strangled noise, the moan reverberating through your skin. 

“Jesus,” he mutters against you. “Trying to kill me, sugar?”

You don’t have an answer for that because you’re not trying to do anything, you just want more.

Your fingers are still grasping his hand, the one still around your neck, tightly, like you’re scared he’ll pull it away, leave you to drift without his grip to ground you, to remind you this moment is real. It’s actually happening. 

He lifts his head up to latch his mouth onto yours again and it’s heavier, so much more desperate than before. You whine into him as he slides his hands down your body, pushing up your shirt and you want to laugh at the absurdity of it, that you’re more turned on than you’ve ever been in your entire life and you’re both still fully clothed. 

He peels your shirt up and over your head, letting out another obscene groan at the sight of your bare chest. 

“Fucking perfect,” he murmurs. 

You fist your hands in his shirt in answer, tugging upwards, figuring fair is fair. You’re trying hard not to blush, not to show how his approval makes you light and fuzzy. He grins and sits back on his knees, pulling his shirt up and over his head, ruffling his floppy hair in the process. 

Lips parting unconsciously, your tongue flicks out to wet them. You knew he was built, but it’s overwhelming, really, to have all that tan skin on display just inches from your face. You get to run your hands up the length of his entire chest now though, leaning up so your fingers can dance through the tuft of blonde hair near the top.

Jake pushes you down on your back, firm, into the pillows. Smiling deviously when you pout and immediately clench your fingers in the sheets beside you, when your thighs press together, seeking some sort of relief to the ache between them. The seam of your shorts presses just right against your center, and you let your head fall back with a soft moan. 

Something akin to dangerous flashes in Jake’s eyes, as he hooks his fingers in your shorts, pulling down in one swift motion and tossing them off the bed before you can gain any more pleasure from the thin material. He pushes your legs apart and groans at the sight of you, glistening wet for him. “God, sweetheart, look at you.”

Just when you think you might die if he doesn’t put his hands on you, if he doesn’t touch you, if he just keeps looking at you like that, like he wants to devour you; he swipes a finger up your slit, tip pressing lightly, teasingly against your bundle of nerves. It’s too much, but not enough all at the same time. He slides a finger in, curling it exactly right on the first try and you can’t help but keen, throwing your head back into the pillows.  

He sucks in a sharp breath at your reaction, eyelids going heavy as he presses rough figure eights on your clit. “Want to get my mouth on you, get my tongue inside that gorgeous pussy, but I can’t wait, darlin’, been thinking about this for too long.” 

Warmth blooms in your chest at the realization he might’ve imagined this even half as much as you have. You’re sure you’re smiling like an idiot. 

Reaching down to the pocket of his sweatpants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet, and you want to tease him, presumptuous much? But any semblance of thought goes out the window when he pulls his boxers down, hard cock slapping against his stomach. Your mouth is suddenly, immediately sandpaper dry. 

Fuck.

Of course he’s huge. No one with an ego as colossal as his doesn’t have a reason, or several to back it up.

You don’t even hear yourself saying it out loud, don’t even realize the curses forming on your tongue, until he grins, eyebrow raised, chest puffed out in pride. “Think you can handle me, sweetheart?”

It takes you a few moments to answer, to figure out that you should answer, since you’re transfixed on him, on the strong fingers rolling the condom onto his length. If you had any sense of self-preservation at all you might be genuinely worried about his question, about not being able to walk tomorrow. 

Hopefully you don’t sound as winded as you feel when you tell him to shut the fuck up. 

Before you can bother with any stupid survival instincts, you’re pulling him down on top of you, wrapping your legs around his waist, savoring the grunt it draws from him as his tip reaches your folds.

“Love it when you’re mouthy, darlin’, nice little challenge for me,” he promises, before pushing himself inside of you. 

He goes slow, tortuously slow, and you screw your eyes shut tight as your walls flutter trying to adjust to him. You don’t notice you’re on the verge of a sob until he brushes your hair back from your sweaty forehead. “Just a little more, sweetheart, you can take it.”

The stretch of him seems to go on forever, just on this side of agonizing, but way too good for you to care about the pain, too good to be real and you can barely focus on anything else. Can barely hear Jake’s molten honey voice repeating a slew of continuous praises in your ear, can barely register the weight of his body covering every inch of you. 

Any moment now you’ll wake up in your bed at home, covered in sweat, grinding into your bed, achingly alone. You’re almost certain of it.  

But then you feel his lips on yours again, hand holding your cheek, gentle, affectionate as he bottoms out. When he finally moves, the heavy, slick pull of him in and out of you reminds you that you’re here. 

You don’t even recognize yourself, mewling, long string of unintelligible noises tumbling from your lips. 

Jake practically preens. “Where’d my feisty little brat go? That all it takes to shut you up, sugar?”

You can only hope those were rhetorical questions because he’s hiking your legs over his shoulders, picking up the pace, new angle hitting that spot deep inside you again and again, and you can’t form a single thought, let alone words. 

Jake’s fingers find your center again and press against your clit in heavy, decisive circles, winding that coil in you tighter and tighter. 

“So close,” you whimper, fingers tearing at the bedsheets.

He smirks. 

“Did I say you could come, sweetheart?”

Your jaw drops in surprise, eyes rolling back and ears ringing, mind engulfed in the heat burning in your belly. 

He’s still grinning smugly as one of those large hands comes back to your neck. 

You whine, high-pitched and breathless, eyes fluttering closed, gripping the hand around your neck as he applies pressure, desperate for something to hold onto, and you think you’re trying to form words, some of them may even be making it out of your mouth, something along the lines of please please please, let me come, Jake, I can’t, JakeJakeJakeJake…

“So pretty all fucked out like this, stretched around my cock.” His gaze is fixed on where he’s plunging in and out of you, tone almost reverent. “It’s okay, sweetheart, come for me, wanna feel you, want…”

You don’t hear the rest because you’re focused on where his fingers dig into the sides of your neck, tipping over the edge, string of lights inside of you tangled and blowing a fuse. Everything bursts all at once and you’re clutching Jake’s arms so hard you’re positive you’re leaving marks, but it doesn’t matter, you don’t care because you’re in a free fall, toes curling in bliss. 

When you come to, you’re just barely aware of his pace growing erratic, hand on your throat loosening as it goes to brush your sweaty hair back from your forehead. His thrusts are getting shallower, mouth spewing a litany of jumbled praises so tight, so wet, so perfect baby, when suddenly he’s arching over you, hands tight on your hips as he empties into the condom. 

You’re not sure you’re still functioning. You’re not sure you’ll ever move again. You’re pretty sure you’ll ever have a coherent thought again.

Distantly you can hear his heavy breathing, feel his weight on top of you but you don’t fully register it. 

“Sweetheart?” He asks when you’ve been silent for minutes, or maybe hours, who knows. 

You look up at him, blinking slowly, eyelids made of lead, vision unfocused.

Jake grins, and it's almost boyish. It's annoyingly cute. “That good?” 

That cuts through the haze enough that you kind of want to slap him, for the arrogance littering those three little words. Or yourself, for helping his ego grow any bigger. 

As it stands, you’re too dazed to actually do either. You nod, silently burrowing your face into his neck. He chuckles again, and you decide maybe you don’t hate that teasing sound that much, maybe you’ll spend your days trying to elicit it from him as often as possible. You’re still thinking about it when he peels himself off you to clean you both up. 

When he settles back down, he pulls you in tight, curls around you in a way that should be uncomfortable, like he’d crawl inside your skin if he could. 

Jake is still glued to you when you wake up in the morning, and your heart clenches too affectionately to be irritated by the fact that you can’t really move. Or breathe. 

But you take one look at the smirk on his face, the mischievous glimmer that seems to linger even in his sleep and the butterflies in your stomach turn to stone.

You don’t think he’s that much of an asshole, you’re pretty sure the bravado is all a front. That he wouldn’t do something like this, knowing how you operate, without any intention of moving forward, but the anxiety still thrums incessantly beneath your ribcage.

You’re lost inside your own head, fighting the panic rising in your chest when he yawns, rubbing his eyes before tucking himself back into your side, impossibly closer.  

“Guess that fifty bucks I gave Phoenix to find somewhere else to stay was a steal,” he mumbles, fingers dancing across your bare skin. 

It’s his turn to pat himself on the back as your mouth drops open in shock. 

Jake grins, eyes sparkling as he presses a kiss into your hair. “Good luck getting rid of me now.”