You can call me ‘Honey’ or whatever you like, i don’t mind nicknames :) My pronouns are she - her.
— I <3 metal and rock but I’m also a big Lana Del Rey fan! My work will probably be influenced by her aesthetic and songs :)
I love to write - or at least, attempt to - and make moodboards ! English is not my first language so I apologise in advance for any grammatical errors - inconsistencies in my work (and introduction lol). I am really big on bikers - motorcycle clubs (fictional and not) and most of my work will focus on them; I do, however, plan to write for the walking dead and supernatural in the future.
! DO NOT INTERACT IF YOU ARE A MINOR. I cannot control what you might read - stumble upon on tumblr but please do not interact with me or my posts if you are underage.
— Please keep messages kind and respectful! This is a judgment free zone, I’d like it to be a safe space for everyone! No judgement or being mean; feel free to share your smuttiest thoughts on our favourite men (and women ;P) , do not be shy to interact with me! I love to talk and hear about random thoughts <3
As in for my writing (and moodboards) - requests - prompts, I will mainly write for Jax Teller, Johnny Davis & Benny Cross. Again do not be shy to send in your requests about the characters not mentioned here! I will write for any character of your choice, the ones mentioned above are a very small fraction of a loong list. Please keep in mind this is my first time posting any of my work, be patient and do not be afraid to send back a feedback or criticism to help me improve !
Most of my work will be x fem! reader, but I will gladly write gender neutral or whatever you have in mind! I will try to keep it as neutral as possible, so if you’d like something more close to what meets your criteria (physical appearance, personality, style etc) feel free to send a VERY specific prompt — if you like, we can discuss it in DMs to get the best outcome :) — and even pictures, whatever you believe might help me create the best possible answer for you. <3
— About my moodboards…be as specific as possible! The majority (if not all) of the pictures I use come from Pinterest, I will try my best to credit the rightful owners but its nearly impossible to trace the original creators - owners. If they are yours PLEASE!!! notify me so I can give credit or remove!
Feel free to send me DMs, asks, prompts, rambles…whatever you like! I love to chat and meet new people, especially if we share the same interests!
Lastly, I am new to tumblr and how everything works so bear with me! I will try to update this introduction and, in the future, add a masterlist for my work :)
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content: simon finds out he’s going to be a dad, mentions of childhood trauma and fear of parenthood, pregnancy, f!reader, kinda comfort/fluff with a tiny bit of angst??
wc: 1.6k
a/n: so it’s father’s day in the uk this sunday and i had this idea for a little fic, but… it got out of control. enjoy <3
Simon Riley never celebrates Father's Day. With the pathetic excuse for a dad he had growing up, why would he? There was nothing about that man he wanted to even think about, let alone celebrate.
He has a vague recollection that today is the 'big day'. He saw the cards in the shops, heard the adverts on the radio. They were more like white noise to him, though. Something in the background that he barely paid any attention to. Today is just another day to Simon. There's no grand plans, just a quiet day in with you.
Or at least that what he thought.
When he wakes up, he feels the absence of you beside him immediately. His eyes snap open, his hands reaching out towards the empty space on the bed. The sheets are still warm, meaning you haven't long gotten up. It's strange and he knows straight away that something is… wrong. He wastes no time getting up and making his way into the kitchen, searching for you.
"Love?" he calls, voice rough from sleep. He comes to a stop in front of the kitchen table, his heart sinking at the sight in front of him. You're not there. Instead, there's a letter and a box. Simon's mind automatically goes to the worst case scenario - you've left him. He knew it would happen some day. That you'd get fed up of his quietness, his traumas, his job, him. He's been preparing for it since the day he fell in love with you.
He sinks into the chair heavily, his hand shaking as he unfolds the letter. He's ready to see the words, that you're sorry but you can't do this anymore. His eyebrows shoot up when he reads what you've actually written. The letter starts out with you telling him you love him. That you've gone out because you think it's better if he's alone when he finds out. Maybe that was cowardly of you, but you couldn't stand to be there if his reaction was as bad as you feared.
"The fuck are you talkin' about, love?" he asks to the empty room. Confused and slightly concerned, he places the letter down and opens the box. At first, he isn't sure what he's looking at. A mug and some sort of white stick. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up, like some part of him already knows and his brain is just refusing to accept it. He reaches in, pulling the stick out and holding it up.
It's a pregnancy test. A positive pregnancy test.
"…fuck," Simon says, the word more of a grunt than anything. Now he understands why you left. It is better for him to be alone right now, because he wouldn't want you to see him like this - out of control. He throws the test with a growl, the plastic bouncing against the floor as he grits his teeth together so hard they could crack. His mind races through all the different emotions - denial, anger, fear. How could this happen? He didn't plan this. He didn't want this. A child. His child. That thought sends a shiver down his spine, but he isn't sure if it's from terror or something else.
He runs a hand through his hair, closing his eyes for a moment as the idea of being a father settles in his mind, running through his options of what the fuck to do about it. He could just leave now, disappear somewhere you won't be able to find him. It's a tempting possibility and Simon thinks about it more than he'd like to admit. Then, he remembers that there's other another item in the box. The mug. Reluctantly, he pulls it out and his heart almost stops when he reads what the ceramic says.
"Happy Father's Day to the world's best dad!"
It's like a punch in the face. 'World's best dad'. Simon sits with those words, silent and focused on the weight of them and what they mean for what feels like hours. His fears sit heavy on his shoulders, a million 'what if's' running through his mind. What if he can't be a good father? Or worse - what if he turns into his own father? He can deal with war and bloodshed, but the thought of making you or his kid cry? That makes him feel sick.
He's so lost in his own head that he doesn't notice the front door opening, doesn't hear you saying his name. "Simon?" you call, your heart dropping every second he doesn't respond, convincing yourself that he's left both the house and you. You should have told him the news in person, you think. Maybe that have deterred him from running.
When you turn into the kitchen and see him sitting there, your first feeling is relief. That's quickly pushed away when you see the almost distant look in his eyes, though.
"Si?" you whisper, approaching him slowly. You're not sure if he's about to run out on you, yell at you or accept this. It's moments like these that you wish you you'd fallen for a man who was easy to read, but then he wouldn't be Simon. You hover in front of him, your hands twitching at your sides. "I'm sorry I wasn't here, and I want you to know that if you don't want this, it's okay—"
His growl cuts you off. His head snaps up and you can see that his eyes are a little red, like he's been crying. "Don't say that," he snaps, but not out of anger at you. No, he's angry at himself. Angry that he made you feel so afraid to tell him, that he made you think he would turn his back on you. "Don't… don't apologise, either. I…" his words get caught in his throat, his voice almost cracking as his eyes drift down to your stomach. It's still flat, but the knowledge of what's growing beneath the surface is enough to bring him to his knees.
Literally.
Simon slides off of his chair, slowly sinking to his knees on the kitchen tiles in front of you. His hands shake slightly as he reaches up, resting his palms over your belly like it's something sacred. You can see the storm of emotions in his eyes: fear, wonder, awe and… happiness? You really weren't sure what to expect, but it feels like you can breathe a little easier knowing his reaction is positive. At least to some extent.
"I'm fuckin' terrified, love," he whispers, looking up at you through his blonde eyelashes. It's not easy for him to be honest like this, especially not about his feelings. But he's had a lot of time today to sit and think in the silence of the house. Without you here, it felt empty, more like a prison than a home. And Simon knows that having a child won't be easy, but he never wants to hear the silence again. He wants to hear you. He wants to hear the giggle of a baby, even the damn crying. "I don't know how to be a father. Not like I had a good example to learn from," he admits with a half smile that's laced with pain. You sigh, threading your fingers through his hair and he leans into your touch before continuing. "But I'm going to try. I'm going to make sure I deserve that mug. I swear it to ya.. and to them."
His words have an immediate effect on you, tears gathering in your eyes You can blame it on the hormones, right? Definitely those and not the man currently at your feet. "Oh, Si…" you say, cupping his cheek. "I know you will. I know." It's the truth. He might doubt himself, might see his father reflected back at him when he looks in the mirror, but you don't. You see the man you love - loyal, protective and brave. All things a good father needs to be.
You keep your hand on his face as he lifts your shirt, pressing a kiss against the skin of your stomach. His eyes flutter closed, his breath warm when he whispers. "I've got you, little one. Always." He lingers there for a few more seconds before rising to his feet, a hand cupping the back of your head to press your face against his chest. You let the tears come then, dampening his shirt as he kisses the top of your head. "And I've got you, sweetheart," he murmurs into your hair.
You pull back, resting your forehead against his. You want to tell him that you're afraid, too. That neither of you know what you're doing and that you'll figure it all out together. But you think he already knows that. He can probably read it in your eyes. So, you kiss him instead. A slow, lingering kiss that says more than a thousand words ever could.
"I love you," you murmur against his lips, breaking the kiss to catch your breath. Simon reaches a hand up, cupping your face and catching a stray tear with his thumb. He smiles for the first time today, a real smile that shows his dimple and makes him look younger somehow. You smile back, letting out a little breath that could be considered a laugh. "We're having a baby," the words come out like you can't quite believe them. Like this is all a miracle.
"I love you, too," he replies, kissing your forehead. "We'll work it out, baby. You, me and them." It's a simple statement, but… it's what you needed to hear.
For now, it's enough.
big thanks to my bestie @ofcourseiwillmydarling for reading this as i wrote it <3 divider is by @saradika-graphics !!
Nothing makes Jax Teller harder than his innocent partner. She's everything Jax wants - soft, naïve and clueless.
༘⋆ Inexperienced ! reader who can get off from dry humping alone.
'You're doing so well, baby,' He whispers, pushing damp hair from your eyes.
The rough denim dragging against your clothed cunt was just right. 'Feels good, doesn't it?' You let out a small, pathetic, whine. 'You're doing good, baby.' he assures - rubbing his cheek against yours.
Your hips buck desperately, mewling every time your panty clad cunt bumps against his bulge. 'm'close Jackie,' you cry into his mouth, your nails scraping through his hair.
'My pretty girl' he hums softly, rubbing his hands up and down your shivering body as you hit your peak.
༘⋆ Inexperienced reader with an oral fixation.
You'll toy with Jax's rings, then lift his index finger to your lips and suck it into your mouth.
'Open wider, baby, c'mon' He mumbles fixated on your pretty pink lips stretched around his fingers.
༘⋆ Inexperienced reader who comes in her panties from sucking Jax off.
content: SMUT MDNI, fingering, cockwarming lol, age gap, military inaccuracies, fem!reader
This was your favourite thing to do - surprise John at work. Technically, you weren’t really supposed to be on base. No unauthorised civilians were, but somehow you always managed to get in. Maybe it was the way you batted your eyelashes at the guards. More likely it was the fear of what Captian Price would do to them if they upset you.
You strut through the halls, pushing open the door to John’s office without knocking. Luckily, he’s alone. His eyes flick up to you and he sighs, a heavy sound filled with amusement at your audacity. “What’re you doing here, love?”
“Can’t a girl want to see her boyfriend?” You say the words innocently enough, but the way you walk around his desk is anything but. Your hips sway, your dress riding up your thighs. John groans knowing he won’t be getting much more work done today, reaching out to squeeze your hips and haul you into his lap.
His hands move to your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingertips. He slides them up, tutting when his knuckles brush against your core. Exposed and already slick with arousal. “Really, sweetheart? No panties?” John chuckles, shaking his head at you. He presses his thumb against your clit, humming when you let out a small whine.
“So that’s why you came here. You been feeling needy, hmm?” He relishes in the way your cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, his middle finger slipping inside your pussy and gently caressing your velvety walls. You mewl, your hands moving to grip his shoulders. “John… please…”
He moves his finger so fucking slowly, in and out, driving you insane with each drag and flick of his wrist. He smirks up at you, raising an eyebrow. “What? Be a big girl and use your words for me, baby.” His voice is low and delicious.
Christ, it drives you crazy when he speaks to you like that. The blush on your cheeks darkens and spreads down your neck as you mumble quietly, “Need you, John… please…” John knows he can drag this out more and make you really beg for him, but his dick is already hard in his pants. He doesn’t want to wait any longer.
He pulls his finger from you and within a few seconds, he’s got his belt open and his cock out. It’s heavy in his hand, ready for you. You bite your lip at the sight, wiggling your hips in anticipation and impatience. John steadies you with a hand on your hip, his other moving to your face. His fingers tilt your chin up, his eyes meeting yours. “You move your hips and I’ll get Ghost to take you home. Understand?”
You nod immediately. “Good girl.” John hums, leaning in to capture your lips in a deep kiss. The kind of kiss that makes your stomach flip. While he kisses you, his hands grip your hips and move you over his cock. Slowly, he pushes you down and fills you up just right. You moan into his mouth, your hands squeezing his shoulders.
“There we go…” John hisses out, trying not to thrust up into you. You just feel too damn good wrapped around him. But he’s a Captain - he has control. So he doesn’t move, his fingers flexing around your hips for a few moments before he speaks again. “Happy now, sweetheart?”
You nod, burying your face in the crook of his neck. This is what you wanted, what you needed. Him. Your man, filling you up and keeping you happy. You feel his hands drift from your hips. One runs up and down your back while the other picks up his pen to get back to his paperwork.
You’re content to sit on his cock like this while he works, fighting all your instincts to roll your hips. You know you have to wait and be patient.
You know that when John finishes whatever he’s working on, he’ll bend you over his desk and fuck you stupid.
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hi harper i ❤️ your writing !! Please write about Jax being all bloody after a fight & not bothering to clean up to meet the reader for a (very intense lol) quickie 😛
hi honey ! thank u so much <3 i hope u enjoy this ;)
content: SMUT MDNI, rough sex, fingering, overstimulation, jax is mean, fem reader
Jax stands outside your door, looking like a hot mess - bruised knuckles, blood stains on his clothes, a cut on his cheek and a split lip. It’s late and it’s clear he came here straight from some sort of fight. You don’t have time to ask, because within seconds his hand is gripping your neck and pushing you back into your apartment, kicking the door shut behind him.
“Jax—“ you begin, but he cuts you off with a rough kiss. All tongue and teeth, the taste of the blood on his lip seeping into your mouth. You moan, your knees buckling beneath you. His large hands clamp around your waist, picking you up with ease and carrying you straight to your bedroom.
He’s hungry and he’s not going to waste a second.
Jax tosses you onto the bed, your body bouncing on the mattress with a gasp. He growls as his eyes scan over you. He crawls over you, dragging your sleep shirt up over your thighs to reveal your panties. You gaze up at him with needy eyes, opening your mouth to speak.
“Don’t talk. Just need this pretty pussy.”
He tears your underwear off in one movement, baring you to him. He spits on his fingers before sinking two of them into you, moving them immediately. The slick sounds mix with your moans, filling the room. Jax grunts, his fingers moving with purpose as he presses his thumb to your clit and drags an orgasm from you.
He doesn't stop at one orgasm. He's still too wound up from the fight earlier, his fingers pounding into you like you're the one he's mad at. Jax doesn’t overstimulate you for your pleasure. No, even that’s for him. He revels in the power it gives him, in how it feels to take and take and take from you, until you’re this sobbing, whining mess beneath him.
When he's satisfied with the state of you, he pulls his fingers out with a pop, his hands moving to his belt.
“Gonna fuck you now. You gonna be good?”
You nod, your hands grasping at his shoulders when he settles his weight above you. This close you can see the remnants of the fight on his face, in the cuts and bruises but also the furrow of his brow. You can't really focus on that right now, because he's already pushing inside of you in one smooth motion. You cry out at the stretch and he hisses at the way your walls clench around his cock.
At least he gives you a few seconds to adjust before he starts to piston his hips into you like an animal. He's not that mean.
reader who made the mistake of making a “you’re really good with your hands” comment to opie winston while he was fixing her car
content: SMUT, just a dirty lil drabble, fingering lol
he had you perched up on one of the workbenches, your pretty sundress shoved up around your waist while your panties dangled from an ankle
one of his hands gripped your hip, holding you steady as his other worked between your legs. two long, thick fingers buried deep inside your cunt and moving with a steady rhythm. in and out, in and out. he mouthed at your neck, his teeth scraping your skin as he worked his way up to your ear. his voice was a gruff whisper that had you clenching and whining
“such a greedy pussy, huh, sweetheart? ‘s a good job there’s no one else here. wouldn’t want ‘em to hear all your sweet noises..”
opie chuckled as he felt your hand grasp his forearm, your nails digging into his skin and leaving little indents. he heard you moan, saw your back arch as you spoke his name in a broken gasp
“opie… please…” what were you begging for? you weren’t sure anymore. but he was. he knew what you needed
a curl of his fingers perfectly hit your sweet spot and your toes curled in response. his rough thumb pressed down against your clit, rubbing in small circles that made your stomach tighten. opie felt your walls squeeze around his fingers and knew you were close
“mhm that’s it, baby… come for me..”
your hands flew to his broad shoulders, holding on to him as you fell apart. your head tipped back, your moans bouncing off the walls as waves of pleasure washed over you. he worked you through it, milking every drop of your orgasm out of you before pulling his fingers out and leaving you empty, shuddering and panting where you sat
opie took a step back, his eyes dark and his chest heaving. the sound of his belt unbuckling was obscenely loud in the otherwise quiet room, his eyes locked on yours as he spoke
“my hands aren’t the only thing i’m good with, darlin’…”
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a/n: its been awhile since I posted but I've been so busy :( I promise I'll check the requests and write some ! ❤️🩹
"You camera shy, baby?" He drawls, as he's setting up the camera. You buried your head at first, shying away from the little red light flashing in your eyes.
"c'mon, look at the camera," he murmurs, more to himself than to you. His hand grips your jaw, angling your gaze towards it. "Good girl." His teeth stretch across his face and smiles all smug.
One of his hands grips your thigh, prying your legs open, while the other brings the camera closer to your dripping cunt. You protest - shoving at his chest because your face is burning but he hushes you. "God - you're so easy"
Your cunt is puffy and sore and its wet - so slick he didn't even need to push, his fingers slid right in, two at once, to the knuckle.
"Look at that," he coos. "that's the money shot." He keeps the camera close to your dripping hole, watching it twitch and clench around his fingers.
"Needy girl," he murmurs, glancing at the screen to make sure its all in frame. Jax twists his fingers inside you, slipping a third as he stretches you open.
He drags his fingers out you slowly, zooming on the way your cunt clenched after them. The sudden loss made you think whine - you didn't care how pathetic you sounded anymore.
"Gonna fuck you now," he smears his slippery palms over your inner thighs as he spread your legs wider.
He lines himself up, thick head pressing at your entrance. He rubs it over your folds - just teases - nudging your hole until your hips buck up.
"Ready?" he asks, tone teasing, a little condescending. And before you could even answer him, he bottoms out. A high - pitched moan escaped your lips. Needy and pathetic.
He slips his fingers between your folds, pinching and slapping with each blunt rut. "M'gonna fill you up."
He can feel you tighten up - gummy walls clamping down his length - and fucks you through it. "That's it," - you feel his cock pulse inside you - hips stuttering against your own.
"Stay still," he pants. "Gotta get this part." He pulls out just enough to push his thumb against your hole, forcing his cum to stay inside.
content: (light) choking, dom/sub dynamics, p in v sex, orgasm denial, brat taming lowkey, porn with minimal plot, its dirty
notes: first post and of course its my man john price
You were practically bouncing off the walls of the safe house and it was driving Price insane. You were one of his best soldiers, a protege of his like Gaz. He knew you hated being stuck here, unable to fight like you wanted to.
You’d argued with him for a while, questioning every. single. one of his decisions and orders. Taunting him with your bratty attitude. ‘Why can’t we go out and fight tonight?’ ‘We don’t need to wait for the others.’ ‘Are you too scared, sir?’
It was that last comment that made him snap, a growl rumbling from his chest as he shot out of his seat. You barely had anytime to react before he had you pressed against the wall, his large hand wrapped around your throat. Not squeezing, just holding. Making sure you understood that he was in control.
“You giving me lip, soldier?” He gritted out, his eyes glinting with a dangerous gleam as he stared down at you. He could see the moment your knees grew weak and your eyes softened into that submissive, pliant state.
Your voice was noticeably quieter when you spoke, breathy. “No, sir…” You trailed off, swallowing. Price watched the movement of your throat, his fingers flexing against your skin.
“Good girl.” He released your throat, grabbing the collar of your shirt and dragging you to the bedroom. It wasn’t much of one - just a double bed and a desk. Within minutes he had you naked and spread out beneath him on the shitty mattress. His rough hands caressed your skin, drawing soft moans and whimpers from your lips.
You blinked up at him through your eyelashes, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your hands drifted to his belt, tugging.
Price grunted, giving your tits a squeeze before knocking your hands away from him. He unbuckled his belt, the sound loud in the quiet room. “Use your words, love. Tell Captain what you need.”
“You, sir.”
That was all Price needed to hear.
He hastily removed his pants and boxers, his shirt following soon after. He was already rock hard and he smirked when he heard you moan at the sight of him. He chuckled as his fingers moved between your legs, easily sinking knuckle deep into you and working you open. You moaned, squirming beneath him. Once he was satisfied you were ready, he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his cock. He filled you in one smooth motion, not stopping until he had bottomed out. He groaned as you cried out, one hand on your hip to hold you in place and the other gripping your chin to keep your eyes on him.
“Keep those pretty eyes on me… Look at how well you take me, huh?… This what you needed to shut you up? Your Captains cock?”
His words were dirty, filthy and they only enhanced your pleasure. The bed creaked with each powerful roll of his hips, the room filled with a symphony of Price’s grunts and your moans. It wasn’t long before you were clenching around him, your back arching as you approached your peak—
And that was when Price stopped moving, looking down at you with a cruel sneer.
“You don’t talk back to me, love. Y’need to learn that lesson.”
hello :) this is my intro post which i will probably update in the future but for now!!
you guys can call me harper, i’m 23 & my pronouns are she/her. this blog will be for my writing which will mostly consist of characters x fem!reader and gn!reader, but i may extend that in the future. i have some oc’s planned too. for now, here’s a list of fandoms/characters i’ll be writing for:
Call of Duty - specifically john price, kyle ‘gaz’ garrick, simon ‘ghost’ riley, john ‘soap’ mactavish & konig
Sons Of Anarchy - open to any of the main characters
Supernatural - sam winchester & dean winchester
new characters will be added when/if i feel more confident writing them. if you want to request a character not on this list, you can still send an ask! i’m always experimenting with writing for new people
i will write sfw and nsfw, so feel free to send me your filthiest ideas ;) on that note, minors do NOT interact with my page. i’ll do headcannons, one shots, drabbles, imagines, au’s and pretty much anything honestly. just send an ask and i will get to it lol
thanks for reading & i will try to keep this updated, but for now… happy reading
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Is this where I send requests? I’m new to tumblr so i have no idea help. If so I would love to request a smut with Jax teller x female reader. Low key something enemies with tension kind of like they hate each other but reader is kind of a bitchy bimbo girl. Maybe readers a daughter of one of the older guys and she’s a bit younger than jax but only like 3 years.. Readers kind of like she thinks she can get away with anything because of her dad being one of the sons. Jax is annoyed by her but wants to put her in her place?
Hope you get what I mean, english isn’t my first language 😭🙏🙏 Love your work!!!
a/n: This is really short and I'm not entirely sure it captures your request, but I really wanted to post a short blurb ❤️🩹 I hope you enjoy!!!
Jax Teller had seen a lot of shit in his life, but nothing irked him quite like her.
Loud, obnoxious. Entitled.
He hates you and yet he can't leave you alone - you're the best fuck he's ever had.
You're still incredibly sore between your legs and fuck, it's incredibly uncomfortable because everything Jax filled you with is now drying on your inner thighs.
"Fuck...fuck...look at that...look at that pretty cunt stretch for me." He stares down at where you're joined - you're stretched to your limit, knees crushing your tits - where the puffy, swollen folds of your cunt are sucking him dry.
He has no respect for you. The worst part was that you knew. You saw it plainly on his face every time his hips snapped against the back of your thighs.
"You're a big girl, y/n" Jax grunts into your hair as he fucks you. "You can handle it," he breathes before he delivers another sharp thrust that makes you whimper. "I know you can".
"Sore?" He goads, and the arrogance is audible. He’s acting out - overcompensating because he knows that he’s hooked on your cunt.
You fist your hand into his hair - scraping across his scalp - pull his lips to yours. "Do all the boys make you do that?" he croons.
"Fuck off, Teller." You don't want him to know how bad you like it. Still, you thought of only him - at all times.
You shake your head. "no - fuck - no one." you gasp and you're not even trying to boost his confidence - you're certain he has loads of that.
His teeth stretch across his face and smiles all smug like he could eat you.
He slams himself into your dripping pussy for one final push and you're muttering against the slope of his cheekbone: jackie - you feel so good - fuck. You shudder beneath him - your knees spearing into his ribs.
"That's my girl," he says - under his breath - just like a secret.
