#AND HIS FUCKING ESCAPE TO AVOID ALL RESPONSIBILITY

[fishbred717]

ME TO JEFFERY EVERY SINGLE DAY

I loved the story that Noel dressed like a woman flirting with Jeffry on a drug, and then Mitch dressed as a clown suddenly jumped out there to give him a bad trip.🤡

[just-some-random-blogger]

Hatred & Love

"... burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."

Gwayne Hightower x Targaryen!Reader | 700< | cw: fem!reader, enemies to lovers, fuck boy!gwayne, fluff ig, when daemon said hightower cunt he meant gwayne because he Serves™, typos, etc.

I saunter down the hall on my way back to my chambers. My ears perk at the sound of laughter from the distance. Immediately, my jaw tightens in recognition, and my feet quicken its pace. I squeeze my hands together, wanting nothing more than to avoid whom I knew I might encounter.

The gods fail me as I spot the aggravating Hightower, merrily loitering in the gardens with his company. Dare they drink in broad daylight? Clad in his sigil and armor, no less.

Tactless.

Apparently, he had won another silly tourney. How irritating of him to celebrate in my home. The Keep would surely benefit from his absence. Gods know the peace I feel when he is not around.

Gwayne's eyes drift. I can feel him looking at my handmaids, at me, as we pass. He laughs at whatever foolishness his friend tells him; the noise grates at me. I scoff under my breath, "barbarian."

Gwayne smirks and calls out, "blessed morn, princess!"

"How can it, when you are here, and it is midday?" I retort, sparing him no glance or pause.

He chuckles as he stands. My face twists as I hear his clanking armour. My heart races at the sound of footsteps accelerating towards me.

My arm is pulled back. I shoot a glare at Gwayne and his stupid face as he releases me. His lopsided smirk aggravates me further as he says, "is a congratulations not in order?"

I snort, "for whom," I raise a brow, "for you?"

"For you," he tilts his head back, placing his hands behind him, "the most temperate princess of all. So comely, so-" his dimples show, "sweet."

I feel my face begin to tighten.

He sticks out his lower lip, "they had no one to crown queen of love and beauty in your absence. Twas a shame."

My head cocks to the side. My brows knit, "you mean you?"

"What?"

"You had no one to crown Queen of Love and Beauty," I step forward.

He stays put as I impose into his personal space. His eyes dart up and down; the muscle on his jaw feathers.

"Were you so anguished by my absence that the victory left a bitter taste in your lips?" I pout and sigh as I bring my hands behind me, effectively mocking him.

Gwayne watches how my chest sinks. His expression chips away a fraction, but it is enough to make me smirk, and I do so happily.

That is, until he licks his lips.

"Tis victory enough that you know of it," his smirk grows. Mine fades as he continues, "my heart sings at the newfound knowledge that you gossip about me, princess."

I chuckle dryly, admittedly louder than necessary, "I need no gossip! Tis not hard to hear about you, when your blabbermouth is audible even in the dungeon's depths!"

His defenses slip. A giddy chuckle escapes his diaphragm, and the rich sound makes my stomach drop. His eyes crinkle and his hands relax to his side. He lets himself relish his amusement before he mutters, "how then would I gain your attention?"

My lips part.

His brows raise.

My breath hitches.

Wind blows my silver hair into my mouth and the sound of me spitting it out snaps him out of his trance. Gwayne shifts on his leg, "perhaps I should pull your hair."

My upper lip curls at his childish response, and he chortles at my look of disgust. "You are a hateful beast," I roll my eyes and turn about.

"Hatred and love burn in the same intensity," Gwayne laughs as I walk off. His expression softens but no one but him will ever know. He links his hands together, "or so I'm told, princess."

[ironinkpen]

The dynamic in Rise between the rest of the team and Leo is. so fucking funny. Because like you've got these three extremely talented individuals who all seem like perfectly reasonable people at first glance, right, but then if you squint hard enough you realize they're actually all batshit insane (affectionate) and the clown boy standing behind them is secretly their common sense.

Clown boy will occasionally put himself and the others in danger to Prove Himself or Prove Someone Wrong (see Minotaur Maze and the movie) but like otherwise... i think people forget Leo's overwhelmingly the voice of reason in most situations?

Raph, Mikey, and Donnie are all incredibly powerful boys with very specific skill sets. They are also, as a direct result of this, the WORST decision-makers on god's green earth lmao. When presented with a problem, Raph will smash, Donnie will blow shit up, and Mikey will razzmatazz. They will all run straight toward death with the same oblivious enthusiasm of a dog about to run straight into a screen door. None of them realize this and all of them think they are Extremely Good At Problem-Solving.

And the guy cursed with the common sense to realize this is literally the LAST person anyone would expect.

When you look closely, the entirety of Rise is actually a chronicle of Leo trying to find new and creative ways to keep this team of superpowered fools alive while simultaneously white-knuckling his Cool Fun Guy persona so the others don't realize he's secretly the Boring Responsible One. Haha, you know what would be Cool and Fun, guys? Not going after the Spine Breaking Bandit lol. Getting home before the sun goes up lol. Evacuating that civilian lol. Not telling the guy dangling me off a roof "you won't, no balls" lol.

The sacred struggle of every iteration of Leonardo is thanklessly wrangling the most trigger-happy siblings in the world, and Rise Leo has not escaped it. He just does an occasional shenanigan to avoid detection and his brothers fall for it every time.

[xxsabitoxx]

Where JJK Men Are Sensitive

Satoru, Suguru, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Yuta, Yuji, Megumi

Warnings: all characters are 18+, this is a smut headcanon post with various levels of lewd-content lol, proceed with caution... or not, I don't judge. I mean I'm the one who wrote it so...

A/N: tried a different style than how I did this with the Hashira lol. Thank you all for blowing up my "How JJK Men Eat Pussy 2.0" post! I was and still am absolutely floored with how quickly y'all blew it up!

Satoru Gojo

Satoru doesn’t tell you where he is sensitive because he wants you to figure it out through “exploration”. Given the fact that he is the Satoru Gojo, you jump on the offer to spend hours learning every inch of his body. You make a whole day out of it really, and it goes without saying that your endeavor was very, very successful. Sensitive and ticklish run a very thin line for Satoru and it is a line that is very easily blurred. Your first discovery was that he has a very sensitive neck. Something as small as your hands cupping the back of it was enough to have Satoru shivering in your embrace, whining a little into the kiss. You learned very quickly that one of his greatest weaknesses is your lips on his pulse, leaving faint bruises where you sucked. As your exploration continued, you found that Satoru was very reactive when you touched his chest. More specifically, you hadn’t expected him to moan the way he did when your tongue ran across his nipple by mistake. The noise that escaped him, paired with the visible twitch of his dick was enough for you to take the other between your thumb and pointer finger and pinch. The third discovery was that Satoru has particularly sensitive balls. Yep, that’s right, his fucking balls. You had given him head before, but you had never dared to touch him there since you weren’t sure how he would react. Since this was a “free-for-all” as Satoru put it, you gingerly cupped him and watched the way his jaw clenched. Your eyes were glued to his face as you massaged them, alternating your pressure to see how far you could take it before pleasure pushed the line and turned into pain. Turns out, they are sensitive but durable and well… he doesn’t mind if you’re a bit rough with him from time to time (all the time). 

Suguru Geto

Suguru refuses to let you figure out where he is sensitive until you catch him off guard one night and bind his wrists. Of course he can easily get out of them but he’s interested in indulging you because you look too damn cute when you think you’ve won. You’re pretty upfront with him about what you intend to do, which only makes him a little antsy as your fingers nimbly undo the rest of his clothing while you remain in nothing but his t-shirt. Suguru isn’t quite used to the roles being reversed but he’ll give it a try for you. The first sensitive point on his body that you discover is his ears, and it’s not because of his gauges. You actually avoid his earlobes all together, instead catching him by surprise as you sink your teeth into the shell of his ear. This earns a reaction neither of you expected, a low groan that vibrates his chest as you alternate the pressure of your nibbling before pulling away. Suguru’s cheeks are red now as you continue to explore various points on him, his dick painfully hard and sitting proudly against his abdomen as you work. The next spot is actually his sides, your fingernails scraping them has his body shivering in response. It seems some of Suguru’s sensitivity resides in the most random places, because you didn’t quite envision yourself laughing as you grazed your teeth down his side before biting softly and watching his back arch. By the time you reach his waist, Suguru is red in the face and panting, precum oozing steadily out of his tip and resting on his abdomen. He’s looking at you with blown out pupils, quietly begging you to touch him where it really “matters”, to which you shake your head. Suguru’s thighs are his other weakness, which you kind of figured since he always gets very fidgety when you sit on his lap or grind on it.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a tough man to break down, but over the years you have located a few of his weak points. One of Nanami’s major weaknesses is his jaw/neck, more specifically when you’re kissing and sucking and biting there. There is something about the sensual drag of your teeth on his skin that has his composure dissolving. You know this of course, so you use it to get your way when Nanami is being a little too stubborn for his own good. This neck sensitivity goes a little further though, something as simple as adjusting his tie or fixing his collar will have Nanami shivering from your touch. You found another weak spot by mistake, turns out Nanami is rather ticklish when it comes to his Stomach. You had been riding him, initially placing your hands behind you on his legs to hold yourself as your hips rose and fell. But your back was getting sore and the angle was starting to get tiring, so you slowed and pushed yourself forward rather than leaning back. The moment your hands made contact with Nanami’s abs, he was gritting his teeth and throwing his head back. You initially thought you had hurt him by pressing down on him, but that worried thought disappeared the moment he gasped out for you to “not move” when you started to pull your hands away. You started paying a little more attention to his stomach shortly after that, just because you enjoyed the way he squirmed and fell apart. Unknown to you still is the fact that Nanami’s nipples are very sensitive. He keeps it hidden because he is utterly mortified by how turned on he gets from it. Even if your hand ghosts over them, even if he’s still fully dressed, the feeling has his face turning a deep shade of red. He knows if you figure this out, you’ll go out of your way to touch him there regardless of where you both are, and he just knows he won’t be able to stop the heat from flooding his face. 

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is pretty damn adamant that he has no “weak spots”. That’s up until your hand rests on the back of his slutty ass, tiny waist and he’s crumbling at the feeling. Something about your fingers on his skin has Toji losing his train of thought, he’ll stop mid-sentence if he feels your hands on his waist. Maybe it’s because of how intimate that one touch is, especially when you’re the one grabbing his waist and he’s not the one grabbing yours. Shiu likes to give Toji a funny look if you do this while in his presence, it’s typically one Toji ignores. To continue this “men with sensitive nipples” agenda I got going on, Toji will be putty in your hands the moment your lips wrap around one of his nipples. He’s utterly shameless when you start sucking and biting his chest, moaning and groaning while his hips buck into the air. You are mindful of how you straddle him solely because you don’t want to give him any sort of relief when you toy with him, hence his restless hips meeting empty air rather than your own. Toji’s rather embarrassed by how sensitive the head of his dick is, especially when you’re giving him head. Even the smallest of touches, the quickest tug, even the gentlest lick, will have his jaw going slack. You’re just as cruel as he is sometimes, deciding to focus all of your attention on the tip of his cock just to watch him struggle to clench his slack-jaw to try and hide his noises. You’ll have him coming in no time at all, making sure to be relentless in your teasing after the fact because he can be just as relentless with you when roles are reversed. A bonus spot is his balls, because why the fuck wouldn’t they be. He’s desperate to keep that one a secret but you are too damn observant to get anything by.

Sukuna Ryomen

Sukuna, sensitive? Nah, no fucking way. He is the only man on this list that can confidently say he doesn’t have a single point on his body that will have him crumbling if you touch it. The thing with Sukuna is that he will not let you have enough freedom to roam his body. You are his, but he is not yours. That’s not to say he’ll turn you down if you start sucking and kissing his jaw and neck, the gentle scrape of your teeth certainly do something to ease the tension in his shoulders. But that definitely doesn’t mean those spots are sensitive, nope, not even a little. Sukuna’s hips definitely don’t falter when you grind against his pubic bone while he has you stuffed to the brim with his cock. Oh and he absolutely can’t stand it when your nails rake his shoulders, specifically between his shoulder blades. The king of curses himself has NO weak points, I mean really he doesn’t. There is nothing you can do to get the curse to submit to you, and that’s just the facts. Sukuna definitely doesn’t groan when you do any of these things, he definitely doesn’t utter your name in a deep, warning rumble as you try and fuck with him. And he most definitely does not enjoy when you litter his skin with your own bite marks… just warning ya~

Yuta Okkotsu

Where isn’t this man sensitive? Yuta is pretty embarrassed about how easily he can fall apart under your touch, especially when you are holding his hips while you kiss him. Something about the way your fingers dig into his skin, as if trying to keep him close while he has his teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Like he’ll disappear if you let him go, fuck it just get’s him going. Depending on where you are, Yuta will likely have you pinned to the wall the moment he feels your hands desperately clawing at his hips. You found out pretty quickly that Yuta’s hip sensitivity spreads down to his thighs. The moment your back hits the wall, Yuta is shamelessly shoving his leg between your thighs, spreading them for him as his knee hits the wall and his thigh is slotted snuggle against your heat. Yuta’s noises are relentless as your hips grind down on his thigh, the muscles tensing under your movements and only adding to the shared pleasure of it. You realize pretty fast that Yuta enjoys marking you, but that he also enjoys being marked. That goes hand in hand with his numerous sensitive spots. One time you actually bit his shoulder and he swore he could have come, completely untouched, right then and there. You’ll have his eyes nearly crossing if you rake your nails along his back, the stimulation your sex offers him paired with the ticklish/scratchy stimulation of your nails on his skin is enough to have him sobbing. Yuta will absolutely lose his mind if you bite his neck too, he gets off to being covered in your love bites. That being said, Yuta’s dick is just as sensitive, if not more sensitive than the rest of his body. When you first started having sex, you would tease him by saying you need to fuck more often so he can build his tolerance. Not that you mind having multiple short rounds, especially since he makes sure you cum Every. Single. Time. 

Yuji Itadori

Bless this man, he’s so touch starved that it’s impossible for him to not get the chills whenever you touch him. Yuji’s beyond sensitive, especially when it comes to your touch. Some of his most sensitive spots are actually pretty random and sometimes very specific. For example, just below his ear, that spot on your head where your jaw ends and your ear lobe nearly meet. You kissed him there once, a kiss placed among many, but that was the one spot that had him breathing out, begging you to do it again. So you did, kissing intently and sucking a bruise there until Yuji’s fingers were nearly bruising your waist. You learned his body pretty fast, finding that his chest was pretty sensitive as well, earning you pretty noises every time you so much as ran a finger down his sternum. He doesn’t particularly enjoy his nipples being toyed with roughly, that’s one area that’s more painful-sensitive rather than pleasurable-sensitive. But he doesn’t mind if you kiss them or lick them gently. He’s all for massages, especially when you have him on his stomach, your hands kneading the muscular flesh of his back until he’s shamelessly groaning as you work out the tense knots. But nothing could have prepared him for the pleasure your hands brought him when you began massaging the small of his back. It was enough to turn his groans into moans, goosebumps erupting over his flesh as he shivered uncontrollably. You listened to him, following the instructions he cried out for you to not stop, noticing the way he was grinding his hips into the mattress below you. The sight had been so lewd that you couldn’t make yourself stop even if you tried, dying to see how it all played out, dying to see if he’d make himself cum. Yuji adores it when you run your hands all over him, the feathery light, ticklish touches are enough to make his lips buck, cock twitching violently as he waits for you to do more to him. 

Megumi Fushiguro

Oh Megumi…Megumi Megumi Megumi. He takes after his fathers, not willing to admit he has any weak spots but also willing to let you try and find them. Contradictory but either way, you’re eager to know how to make the typically stoic man crumble. It came as a shock when you figured out one of his sensitive points within thirty seconds of climbing into his lap. Megumi’s thighs are very sensitive, even from something as simple as your weight settling on them. It also helps that the heat from your covered sex can be felt through the material of his clothes, your closeness only making it more apparent. You’ll use this information against him later on, especially on nights where you just want to get him worked up. Turns out Megumi’s neck is pretty ticklish, the mix of your soft lips and hair as well as your teeth gently grazing him is intoxicating. Megumi finds himself struggling to stifle his noises as you mark his neck up with as many love bites and bruises as you can before his self restraint runs thin and he gives up on this whole “locate the weak spots” endeavor. Did I mention he takes after his fathers, cause he does. Megumi is mortified by this fact, but his balls are pretty damn sensitive. After an hour of making out and letting you feel him up, you finally reward him for his patience and give him head. He’d rather your sex but he’s too damn worked up to care at the moment, and your mouth is fucking perfect anyways. So, given that he’s let you have more leeway in the last hour than he has during any other of your sexual encounters, you take the liberty of cupping his sac as you wrap your lips around his tip. You nearly choked when he almost immediately spilled into your mouth, the hour of teasing had worked him up more than either of you anticipated and he had no strength left to mentally prepare for you doing something as bold as that. 

[sgt-tombstone]

Like A Baby

————

Ghost sleeps like he’s in a coffin

On his back, straight as a board, arms crossed over his chest, the whole nine yards

When Soap and Gaz see him do it for the first time in the field, they think it’s a joke, that he’s leaned into the whole Ghost thing a little too hard. They think it’s funny, albeit slightly disconcerting

But over the course of several missions, they realize that Simon genuinely has no idea that he does it. He goes to sleep laying down like anyone else, in whatever position is most comfortable in the middle of an op, but as soon as he slips unconscious, his body naturally arranges itself into the most macabre position possible

They want to tell him about it so badly, but Price convinces them not to. He doesn’t tell them why, he just says that it would be a bad idea, and they trust him enough not to push it

Until Soap lets it slip one night while they’re at a bar, makes a stupid joke about Ghost “sleeping like the dead” that Gaz laughs a little too hard at and they only realize their mistake when Ghost’s eyebrows knit in confusion. So they fess up, reluctantly, and tell him that he sleeps like a corpse. Arms crossed and everything. He refuses to believe it at first, because denial has always worked for him in the past, and he wouldn’t put it past the sergeants to pull his chain like this, especially since they don’t know. But then Soap says he’ll snap a picture the next time he sees it and Ghost starts to get scared

Sure enough, two weeks later finds them in the middle of fucking nowhere in the middle of the fucking night, and Ghost settles down against a wall that’s more rubble than structure. He resolutely stays sitting up because he desperately wants to prove the sergeants wrong, but as soon as he falls asleep, his body slumps over and turns until he’s on his back, arms crossed, spine straight. Soap snaps his picture and feels guilty about it all night

When he wakes up the next morning, Ghost’s first words to him are, “show me,” and Soap should know better but apparently he doesn’t because he pulls up the picture. It’s dark and slightly blurry but unmistakable. Like a fucking corpse

It sends Ghost into a tailspin. The only reason why he doesn’t lose it completely is because Price is there to hold him together. Instead, he shuts down. It feels like a betrayal from his own body, his own mind. It’s a sick joke, a cosmic ‘fuck you’, a trauma response of epic proportions. He’d escaped his own grave, but apparently his sleeping mind didn’t know that

When they get back to base, no one sees or hears from Ghost for close to three weeks. Soap is losing his mind, Gaz is ready to tear the base apart to find him, and even Price (usually very used to Ghost’s moods) is visibly worried. Finally, Soap corners him in the sniper tower where he’s been taking stim packs and caffeine pills in an attempt to avoid sleep altogether. Soap damn near drags him, stumbling and off balance from exhaustion, to bed. Despite how tired he is, he can’t fall asleep, his heart and mind racing with panic at the thought of his unconscious body forcing him to become a corpse again

Right up until Johnny lays down next to him. And then his mind goes blissfully quiet. His heart is still pounding, but for a completely different reason as Johnny curls his body around Simon’s, arranging their limbs in such a way that Simon couldn’t possibly straighten out. It’s the warmest he’s ever been, the most comfortable he’s ever been. With his arms around Johnny and Johnny’s head tucked under his chin, he falls asleep effortlessly

When he wakes up, the first thing he mumbles is, “how did I…?” but he can’t bring himself to finish it, terrified of the answer. Johnny just smiles up at him, mohawk askew and cheek creased from being pressed against Simon’s shirt all night, and says, “like a baby.”

Simon never sleeps like he’s in a coffin ever again

[sturnioz]

꒰ STURNIOZ KINKTOBER '24 ꒱ !

confident!reader has been in a mood all day, fratboy!matt only has one solution to put her in her place.

tw. spanking (ass & pussy slaps)

you are definitely in a mood.

no, there isn't any reason; nothing has set you off. but you are feeling irritable — evil — snapping at anyone for any little thing. the frat brothers of the house, always loud and boisterous, fall quiet the moment you enter the room, their conversations dying mid-sentence as they eyeball each other, watching as you stomp around the house, your lip curled in disdain and eyebrows deeply furrowed.

the slightest sound — crinkle of a chip bag — makes your head whip around, your eyes narrowing at the frat brother responsible who froze up, wide-eyed, waiting for you to say something.

a laugh that's too loud, piercing the air, sends a snarl curing your lips, and the frat brother who made the noise immediately clears his throat, ducking his head, desperately trying to avoid your gaze.

"kitty's got her fuckin' claws out today," one of them remarks under their breath, and it ignites a fire in your chest, your blood boiling. "must be on her period—"

"what the fuck did you just—"

before you can finish your threat, matt's already swooping in when you get too close, tossing you over his shoulder like a rag doll as he walks away. you claw at his back, frustration bubbling over as you shout for him to put you down while your finger points accusingly at the frat brother, whose face burns with embarrassment.

matt carries you to his bedroom, slamming the door shut with his foot, the sound echoing throughout the room before throwing you down on the bed, and you bounce slightly, glaring up at him with a mix of fury and disbelief.

you're seething — nostrils flaring as anger courses through you, and in a moment of frustration, you make the silly mistake of reaching out to scratch him when he holds his hands up in a gesture for you to calm down, something that only infuriates you even more and is the last thing you want to hear right now.

matt hisses as your acrylic nails graze his arm, the slight sting making him all but growl in response as he manhandles you, flipping you onto your back and laying you across his lap with a speed that disorients you.

you're kicking out your legs in protest as matt flips up your skirt, his hand cracking down on your covered ass cheek with a resounding smack. your eyes widen, a gasp fleeting past your lips as he delivers another stinging slap right after the first.

"really? gonna fuckin' scratch me when you're havin' a tantrum?" he huffs, his fingers digging into your soft flesh and you squirm, alternating between mewls and gasp as he continues to spank your ass, each blow landing harder than the last.

"matt!" your voice whines out softly, the anger and frustration fading away slowly as you whine, wiggling your hips as matt clicks his tongue against his teeth, his hand sliding under you to grope at your panty-clad mound.

"fuckin' like this shit too much. s'a punishment, sweetheart... not supposed to enjoy it."

matt's fingers roughly pull down your soaked panties mid-thigh, exposing your puffy, glistening folds to the room and you gasp as you feel his thumb rub against your sensitive clit, making you shudder.

"look at this.. already so wet f'me." matt sneers, pulling his hand back before spanking it down on your pussy, the force sending ripples through your tender skin.

a sharp cry of pain and pleasure escapes your lips as he strikes your folds again, the sting immediate and intense, making your hips wiggle back to seek more friction as you whimper.

matt repeats the motion, going back and forth between your swollen folds and throbbing clit, each spank sending shockwaves of pleasurable pain coursing through your body.

you can feel yourself getting embarrassingly wetter by the second, your arousal coating matt's hand as he slaps it down against your skin. but after one final spank, matt removes his hand from between your thighs and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"that should teach you to watch your tone w'me..." matt murmurs as he brings his hand up higher, swiping his thumb across your undereye to wipe at the mascara residue. "now, y'gonna tell me what's actually botherin' you? talk to me."

"dunno.." you answer truthfully, not liking how weak your voice sounds when you're used to being so confident and loud. "just pissed off.. bad day."

"uh-huh.." matt hums as his fingers trail back down to your swollen, glistening pussy, rubbing soothing circles around your sensitive clit, and you croon into his touch. "y'know you can come to me when you're havin' a bad day, sweetheart... s'what i'm here for, yeah?"

© STURNIOZ

[caramelkoo]

be still my heart — jjk [two]

the one in which Jungkook lets his imagination run wild and you confront Jimin about your past.

genre : childhood best friends to enemies to lovers, physical therapist!reader x hockey player!jungkook, slow burn, smut, fluff, angst

word count : 5.1k

chapter warnings : strong language, kissing, jungkook is again nervous around Destiny. That's it i guess lmk if i missed anything.

a/n : ohmygod the first part got so much love i just couldn't wait to post this. This one is a bit intense. I love my babiest baby jungkook so much. Please enjoy my lovely people and remember you're so loved :> feel free to send asks. kisses.

Jungkook

During Jungkook’s college days, there was a guy named Oscar who’d sit beside him in class with his round glasses resting on his face. He would bunk classes almost every day which led the ever so curious Jungkook to follow him one day in order to find out what’s so special that he’s even willing to bunk classes for? Listen, the nerdy Jungkook thought bunking classes is bad manners. Don’t come at him.

Eventually, he found himself watching Oscar playing the guitar inside the vacant auditorium and he can swear he’s heard nothing more melodic than that. He figured the guy escaped so he could do what he loves. It was his passion.

If someone were to ask him, what’s his passion? Jungkook would say, Hockey. It pumps him up, it brings him back to life. He was born to do this.

He has seen his older brother playing hockey for as long as he can remember but trying the sport for himself? That never came to him, until his brother thought handing out a hockey stick to a 15 year old would be funny.

Newsflash, it wasn’t funny and as much as he doesn’t want to, Jungkook has no option than to give him the credit for him being here. It’s only right. The moment he held that hockey stick it was like the clouds parted and angels started singing.

This life right here is something he has built with hours and hours of practice, diet, diligence and working himself out until he’s a sweaty mess.

It’s not like every other 28 year old’s life, it’s different as well as demanding but every other 28 year old is also not being thrown into the penalty box like him right?

On a good day he would even call himself a conflict-avoidant guy until it comes to his teammates. Then, he’s an animal, ready to tear down every motherfucker who dares to touch them. Dramatic? he doesn't think so.

Yes, they piss him off but they’re a team, it’s a unified responsibility that they have. You stop at nothing to protect your own. The spark of defensiveness is bound to come to the surface given he's the defenseman of the team.

This is why he’s in here, trapped behind this glass shield as he watches the guys do their worst performance till date. The forward of the opposite team tried to get a fight started making Jungkook see red. His instincts led him to act immediately. He had to do something to put an end to it and breaking the guy’s nose seemed like a nice option.

The lions are not an easy team to play with, they’re hard hitters and show no mercy. That’s what coach has been telling them ever since they landed here. Seems like nobody listened. Fuckers.

Sweat drips from his hair as he watches the game, ears filling up with screams behind him.

“Jeon Jungkook I’ll have your babies”

“Jungkook you’re so hot it makes me insane”

“Oh god this man will be my death”

“He can slap me and I’ll thank him”

God help him. The thing is, the shitshow before him is not the only reason behind him being a mess today. Destiny has been… weird lately. At the risk of sounding like a goner, she’s not acknowledging him at all, like at all.

She used to grab the seat in front of him on the plane whenever the team flew for the games but this time she didn’t so much as look at the poor guy let alone sitting before him. Is she hurt because of last time? Did he fuck up again? This proclivity of fumbling every time he’s around her needs to be checked.

“Dude, we couldn’t have held a candle to them.” says Taehyung.

Ah yes, the guys lost the game if it wasn’t predictable enough and now the coach will have their heads on a platter ready to serve. Well, he doesn't want to do that any more than Jungkook himself does.

Jungkook gets rid of his shin pads, placing them on the bench. “Try saying that in front of coach”

“He’ll understand”

Yoongi glares at him, “The fuck he will. He’s been in our faces telling us how wild it might be over there. Who listened? Because you sure not did, Tae”

Taehyung chuckles in disbelief, propping his hands on his waist. “Dude, you’re targeting me as if I was the one breaking noses and all.”

He gives Jungkook a side eye. Oh he’s so gonna get Tae later.

“You might as well have. And as for you,” he glances at Jungkook, "I'll just hope you come back in one piece."

“Alright, cut it out” Namjoon says as he slips into his practice jersey. That’s so like him. Heading straight for practice after a big game, whether or not they win.

He’s one of the most dedicated people Jungkook has ever seen and you can’t generally get a praise out of him like this.

He blocks out their bickering and focuses on getting out of his hockey pants. A sharp pain shoots up in his knee making him cringe. That’s strange. He doesn’t remember his knee getting involved in the ruckus. Anyway, he makes a mental note of letting Destiny know about it and not repeat the same douchebaggery.

“Hey bud, you doing okay?” Namjoon asks as he’s rubbing the painful spot.

He looks up, “Yeah it’s… it’s just a slight pain. Might be a cramp for all I know”

He pats Jungkook’s shoulder in support, a kind smile plastered on his face. “I hope so and hey, don’t be picking fights like that anymore. You understand?”

Jungkook is quick to defend himself. “But that asshole–”

“I know,” he nods, “Just be careful. That’s all I’m saying. Let it be your last.”

He gives up, nodding his head. “Yeah. I’ll resist”

Namjoon is right. Jungkook did not pick a fight and he knows it. He also knows that Jungkook is always ready to come at his players’ defense, however that might be.

After all, it all boils down to a nasty fight on the rink which is nothing to be surprised about. There have been plenty of fights down here, some resulting in broken limbs and some going as far as a person on a stretcher.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Nightclubs are hands down Jungkook’s least favorite spot ever. He hates the smell, he hates the crowd and he hates how loud everything gets. If it weren’t for Yoongi, he would be at home chilling or overthinking. No one can tell.

Although, he’s not sure if he can even call that four walled room his ‘home’. It’s not home, it’s just a place he was given to stay at when he joined the federation and while he’s more than grateful for it, an empty, emotionless space where he only exists in can’t be qualified as a home.

However, he can’t stop wanting a place which is only his. A place he can share with someone he loves, wakeup next to her, cook with her, make memories with her. A home overflowing with laughter and giggles only.

Clearly, that murky ass house can never live up to that expectation not when it consists of a bathroom smaller than his fist, a bedroom which can’t fit more than 3 people at once and a kitchen he, for some reason, can’t get himself to cook in. He believes someday he’ll have that albeit the wait.

“Do you think I’m joking?” Taehyung’s voice is louder than ever before because of the surroundings. Sitting beside Namjoon as his hands fist a glass of old fashioned, he acts like he just spilled the most expensive beans.

He dramatically places one hand on his chest and turns to Jungkook, “Dude, tell him. Tell him how I got my dick pierced last week”

A chuckle leaves him, “Better yet, you can lose those pants and give him a live show”

The guys break out in fits of laughter.

“Don’t act like you haven’t seen my dick already, you twat. I did it for my girlfriend alright? Was this close to tattooing her name too but didn’t,” he holds up his thumb and forefinger to show how much,

“I don’t want my guy to swell and look like I accidentally got it stuck between a door or something.”

From his peripheral vision, Jungkook spots Destiny walking up to them looking like an absolute goddess. She’s wearing a shoulder strapped bodycon dress tonight with her hair curled in such a way that it makes her face look more feminine. He has seen so much of her in those scrubs that she’s doing things to him now. Hold your damn horses, Jungkook.

The poor guy can’t so much as look at her for too long or he’ll get hard. That’s something he can’t allow himself to do right here when all his friends are gathered. They’re never gonna let him live that down.

Maybe, when he’s alone he can fuck his hand with the thoughts of her taking him into that sweet mouth she’s got a bold red lipstick look going on. His cheeks turn crimson and he fights back a smile.

“Hey, guys” she greets them as she tucks a hair strand behind her ear. A gold hoop adorning her. God, she’s trying to kill him. She's like Jungkook’s own version of heaven.

The guys all smile up at her like she just asked them to give her a foot massage. Meanwhile, her eyes never land on Jungkook.

“Jimin, can I steal you for a second?” she hesitates.

“Sure” Jimin places down his drink and stands up. He walks up to her and rests his hand at the small of her back making Jungkook’s smile drop. Nice, he's getting jealous over a kind gesture now. Next thing you know, he'll be ending anyone who dares to breathe in her direction.

Namjoon shakes his head as he follows them both with his gaze. “Am I the only one who thinks they’re fucking?”

Yoongi dissolves into laughter while Taehyung spits out his drink. Almost. Jungkook? He finds nothing funny about it but refrains himself from saying something stupid in the heat of the moment.

“There’s some tension, yes. Can’t say anything about the fucking part though” says Yoongi.

“What do you think?”

“What?”

“Do you think they’re shagging?” asks Taehyung in a hushed voice.

“I think you assholes need therapy” With that he rests his own glass of drink on the table and walks away. Their voices calling out to him become more and more faint as he goes on.

He needs to find out what is it that gave rise to this sudden change in Destiny and if he’s the reason for it. His stomach churns as soon as the thought of her having something going with Jimin crosses his mind.

The guys were joking back there and given their proclivity of joking around, he takes their statements with a grain of salt. Howbeit, he can’t help but wonder the same.

The worst thing of all is he doesn’t have any right to feel this way. She’s not his and she might never be for all he knows. So maybe this is for the best, maybe if she keeps on discounting him like this, it would be slightly easier to forget her. Right?

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Destiny

“What do you think you’re doing? This is a men's bathroom?” A guy who must be in his early twenties nearly pokes his finger in Jimin’s eyes. His gaze darts over to you as he gives you a disgusted look.

Jimin levels him with an intimidating glare, “Why don’t you mind your own damn business and we’ll be good. Yeah?”

He flashes you another appalling look, his nose flaring before he walks out. For a second you might even endorse with the guy but in your own defense, the club is buzzing with commotion and there was not a single space Jimin and you found where you both could have a proper conversation without anyone bumping into you. You spent quite the money on this dress and it'd be bummer to ruin it. It’s insane how crowded it is. So, here you are.

Jimin turns to you, his fingers still laced through yours for the sake of your safety. “I’m sorry for that”

You snatch your hand back. “No it’s totally fine. I mean it’s not usual for a guy to bring a woman in here” an awkward chuckles leaves you.

“It is”

Your smile drops, “Huh?”

“They do bring women in here. Well, let’s just say they do everything except have a talk”

Of course they do. God, this is more awkward than you imagined it would to be. You could die of embarrassment right now but if you don’t clear things up with him, it would be more humiliating to simply exist around him. You roll your shoulders back, plucking up enough courage.

“Let’s discuss the elephant in the room, shall we?”

He steps closer to you, just enough to catch you off guard but not enough to knock the breath out of your chest. There is someone else who's been doing that job lately.

“What elephant Destiny? The one about us having the best time together or how you left me the next morning? Alone and pathetic” he demands.

Well, knock me down with a feather.

Your mouth parts in shock, “I left you? You sneaked out, Jimin and you know it”

You wonder if he’s gonna come clean about that. If he’s gonna stop blaming you and take accountability for once. You guys did have the best time together and as short lived as it was, you regret nothing about that night until this point.

Now that he stands in front of you, accusing you of being so cowardly that you dared to leave him, it makes you question your own integrity.

He takes another step forward, automatically making you take one back as he searches your face. “So where were you when I woke up? Where were you when I reached my hand out and didn’t find you lying next to me, huh?” his voice barely a whisper.

Enough. You wouldn’t have bothered to stop the scream that’s begging to leave you had someone pointed a gun at your head. A gal can only take so much before she snaps.

“I WAS OUT THERE SEARCHING FOR MORNING AFTER PILLS”

The vacant bathroom echoes with your own words. The words you were holding back from saying out loud.

“I went in search of those, Jimin. Apparently, that’s what you’re supposed to do when you fuck each other and not take necessary precautions”

He stills, backing off as if you had slapped him. A heavy silence hangs in the air around you.

Jimin’s eyes flash with barely contained astonishment as he looks around trying to find words. When he doesn’t say anything, you take it as an opportunity to continue.

“You weren’t lying about us having a great time together. I accept that, we did have fun and I don’t regret it which honestly, I’m not so sure of now.”

A quick look of hurt passes through his face before he recovers.

“I was planning on staying back too oh… how badly I wanted to stay back but you have to understand that I was also at the prime of my career as a professional physical therapist. I couldn’t afford having a child, Jimin. Back then even the thought scared me. So, I left for a while, mentally promising you to come back. You were sleeping so soundly and you looked so beautiful and I didn’t want to disturb you—”

Your words come to an abrupt halt as he takes a long step towards you, backing you up against the white wall behind.

It’s not the same, your chest is not rising and falling rapidly like it did back then. Gosh, you couldn’t even speak in front of him. This time you’re immune to his eyes, his closeness and his warmth. Is this what they call healing?

“You should have” his brown eyes flash with hunger, “You should have disturbed me, Destiny. I would have woken up, ate you out, maybe fucked you again while wearing a condom, cuddled you and then accompanied you to the medical store.”

Oh fuck no, this is not happening. You’re not getting yourself back into this situation where he charms you with his mere words and leaves you cold. You deserve better than that.

You push him back with your palms on his chest, “Maybe, but I think I wouldn't have it any other way,”

You look straight into his eyes and nowhere else to make him feel how serious you are, leaving no room for uncertainty.

“Bella, my assistant, keeps saying that everything happens for a reason. It’s written up there," you point your forefinger up, "I feel the same about what went down with us. There was a reason why you left, there was a reason behind me not bothering to wake you up."

A bitter chuckle slips through your mouth, “Although, I can’t seem to grasp why the hell are you here?”

The way your heart is beating inside your chest, you might end up on a ventilator. It’s because you haven’t had much control of anything in your life, this feels particularly massive. This is one way for you to take back control, because it’s your choice and yours alone.

You try not to let the tears spill, “I asked you to spare me a few minutes just so I could talk to you about it but this isn’t how I imagined this conversation to go, Jimin. Regardless of that, I need you to do me a favor”

He holds your gaze. “What favor?”

You clear your burning throat, “I’m requesting you to please not initiate any conversation about our past with any of the guys. That could pretty much cost me my job and yours.”

He offers you a stern nod, “You have my word”

With that you turn and walk around just like you always do and always should when it’s time. Only this time, you don’t feel victorious. Instead, the feeling of utter shock rushes through your body because standing outside is the only person you had been avoiding to say the least.

You flinch. “Jungkook?”

He’s leaning back against the cold wall with his hands inside his front pockets, head hanging low. You can’t make his face out because of the darkness.

He frantically lifts up his head when he hears you calling, looking as surprised as you, “Hey, I— wait, why are you coming out of the men’s room?”

You shift on your feet, folding your hands in front of you. “What? OH !! Well, I had some business with Jimin and this felt like a nice place to.. you know”

You can’t talk for the life of you. How do you explain yourself to him without word vomiting? But then you think better of it and just shake your head.

“You know what? Never mind that. What about you? Why are you standing here like someone just broke your heart?”

No fucking way did you just say that. What is this? A bollywood movie? You immediately feel like you hit a nerve when his face falls, causing you to curse yourself.

He’s silent for a moment before he stands up straight. “You could say that”

“Wait, really?”

Yet again you’re struggling to breathe, a spark of curiosity threatening to rise up. Why do you care about his heart? He’s been all but rude to you every day since you’ve begun working by his side so why would you care if someone put his bloody heart in a blender? You have been assigned to take care of his body, what happens unrelated to that is none of your business.

Except, you do. There is a teeny tiny part of you that cares. Though, you can’t say if it’s the doctor inside of you or something else. Something which could ruin you and save you all at once.

“Who is it?” you ask in a small voice.

His eyes rank behind you and he pulls you close to him by grabbing your arm. You see a man passing by, faltering on his own under the influence of probably the sheer amount of alcohol inside him.

When you look up, you have to swallow a gasp. Jungkook’s face is so close to you, you can almost count his moles. The one under his lips is begging to be kissed and you hold yourself back from grabbing him by his jacket as you kiss the hell out of him.

Wait what?!

He looks down at you, his eyes burning with something you can’t pinpoint. It’s like a mixture of anger and adoration. Soft lips brush your temples as your heart beats out of your chest.

“It’s not safe here. Why don’t you go join Bella? If I break another nose it’ll cost me good”

You lean back, still in his arms. It would be nice if you get out of his hold. You should shove him away too exactly like you did with Jimin but for some reason, you can’t. His hold is safe, cozy. It reminds you of your grandmas cookie recipe. Warm and lovely.

“Another nose? Did you get into a fight?”

He breaks away, turning his back to you but you clutch his forearm as you hold him back before he can bolt.

“You know the PR is gonna make your life a living hell. What did you do?”

His jaw sets instinctively as he looks at you for a moment before speaking.

“Destiny, if you don’t want me kissing that sweet mouth of yours and imprint my name on it for once and for all, get the fuck out of here.” he rasps.

That's it. Flashbacks of that night and that fucking dream consume you. It doesn't help at all that he looks so dashing tonight in all black. Black leather jacket, black pants and his black boots. You're having visions you shouldn't have. They're nice. Farfetched but nice, nonetheless.

You release his hand like it will set you have you combust if you keep holding onto it for even a moment longer. You turn around, with the intent of getting out of his proximity when his voice stops you.

“Destiny”

You don’t turn around because something is telling you if you do, you will never be the same.

“My life turned into a living hell the moment you stopped looking at me”

˚୨୧⋆｡˚

Jungkook

Jungkook is dying. 

Figuratively, of course.

He should have taken Destiny seriously when she said that the PR is going to make his life miserable once he gets to know about the mess he had made. His phone is buzzing on the kitchen counter. He knows who it is but he doesn’t pick up.

Instead, he just waits until it stops ringing. Jungkook can see it all playing out in his head. He will be called to the PR’s office as soon as he enters the academy and the PR is gonna ask him why he did what he did, Jungkook will then tell him that he's a a man of virtue, he will ask him to repent and tell him to fuck off. Very classic. Been there, done that. 

He drops his head low, palms splayed in front of him. Calling last night chaotic would be an understatement. He said things he shouldn’t have and heard things he hoped he wouldn’t. It was not deliberate, of course. He would like to call it a spur of the moment.

Alright, he was fucking jealous. There he said it. He was jealous of Park Jimin because that man was touching who Jungkook had been longing for, he was talking to the women Jungkook had been begging to look at him once and allow him to breathe. 

When he reaches the academy, he quickly asks about Destiny’s whereabouts and goes on to find her. He thinks his knee needs to be discussed because he can’t risk not playing the next game.

He's not sure if he's prepared for the uneasiness that's about to welcome itself but– god if you’re listening, help him, he prepares himself as much as he possibly can. 

Raising his hand to make a fist, he knocks on her office door. This would be his first time inside, if she would even let him in.

“Come in” her voice reaches Jungkook. 

He takes a long deep breath and pushes the door wide open. Stepping inside he looks at her sitting in her chair with glasses resting on top of her button nose. She looks so adorable. He doesn’t think he has ever seen her with glasses on but he approves. 

“Jungkook? Is everything okay?” 

Is it? Why is she acting like everything about last night was a dream? Did I imagine it all? Jungkook wonders.

He slips his hands inside his front pockets and nods, “My knee is acting a bit weird. I wanted to get it checked. See if there’s anything serious.” 

She takes her glasses off and rises to her feet. Pointing to one of the chairs, she says, “Sit down and let me have a look”

He does what she asked as he leans back to make himself comfortable. An eerie silence surrounds them, making every inch of Jungkook's body stiff as he grips the armrests of the chair a bit tighter. He doesn’t let it appear that way of course. He’d rather die. 

When she’s satisfied, she gets down on her knees and looks up at him. The visual is lethal but not something which he hasn’t already imagined.

He's not entirely proud to say that he has had the privilege of seeing her on her knees in his dreams, in the darkness of his bathroom, in his fantasies. He's seen it all but the real sight nearly makes him blow his load.

What do you think happens to a man who witnesses a queen getting down on her knees for him? Ask Jungkook. Mentally thanking himself for not wearing the sweatpants, he prepares to answer any of her questions.

“Do you wanna tell me what caused this?” 

“There um, there was a fight back at the game. I felt a slight pain in the changing room but didn’t think much of it. Thought I’d let you know about it.” 

She smiles, “Well I’m proud of you for that minus the fighting part. I’m sure you’ll be discussing that in the PR’s office” 

As she’s examining any possible pulls or cracks, he thinks about apologizing to her about last night. To be very honest, he's tired of this awkward silence every time he's around her. Not talking is one thing, walking on eggshells around each other is another. He wants her to behave the same way she does with the rest of the boys. 

“Destiny, I needed to talk to you about something” 

She looks up again, her eyes filled with curiosity. 

“Sure. Was something else hurt during the fight?” 

“What? No. I wanted to talk about last night” 

She stiffens as her mouth forms an ‘O’ shape. Fuck, why is his heart beating so fast? Wait, is he sweating? 

Then she shrugs, talking in a casual tone. “I don’t think it’s worth talking about” 

“Why?” Jungkook can’t help but ask.

“Well,” she smiles but it doesn’t reach her eyes, “You and I both were drunk and people do stupid stuff when they’re drunk so.”

“There was not a single drop of alcohol in my system. However, whatever I said was in the spur of the moment.” he says wording his previous thoughts, “I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. I’m sorry” 

She’s quiet for a moment before she lowers her head and mumbles something. 

“WellIhadasexdreamaboutyousoweareeveniguess”

He lowers down his own head, trying to listen clearly, ‘What was that?”

“I said I had a sex dream about you so we’re even” as soon as the words slip out of her, she claps a hand over her mouth. Her eyes wide as saucers. Meanwhile, he just sits there wondering if he heard her right or his brain is as fucked as his knee. 

His mouth goes dry as he keeps looking at her. He feels like someone just dumped a bucket full of ice water on his head. She had a sex dream about him? When? How was it? 

“It was uh okay” 

Kill him, kill him now because he said that out loud. See, this is what he means when he says he messes up every time he's in front of her. That’s exactly what the last thought that crosses his head before he pulls her by the back of her neck and smashes his lips on hers. Fuck it, he can’t take it anymore.

When she kisses him with the same amount of passion and hunger, he resists himself from hoisting her up on the table and eating her sweet cunt. She matches every movement of his lips. Hers suck his before his take her pink and pillowy ones. 

Within seconds, he has her caged in his arms. A low moan slips past her lips as she clutches onto Jungkook's shoulders for support, his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. Is this what feels like to kiss Kim Destiny? Is he actually touching and tasting her?

She tastes like cherries and bubblegum and he swears he's tasted nothing sweeter. He wants to have this taste every day on his tongue, and wants to remember it till the day he takes his last breath. Maybe, even longer than that. 

He pulls back and cups her cheek, running his thumb along her lower lip as she catches her breath. She’s got her eyes closed, her chest rising and falling against his. Jungkook can feel her hard nipples through her scrubs.

Someone shakes him by the shoulders and he snaps out, blinking rapidly. He looks around and finds himself sitting on the very chair Destiny asked him to but when a feminine voice calls out his name, it's not hers.

“Well, watching my best friend on her knees in front of my step brother was not the visual I thought I needed”

Turns out, it takes a lot to make that someone up there 'happy' because standing in front of him is his only step sister. It's hilarious how unpredictable life happens to be. After all, not only did he imagine kissing Destiny after she told him about her little sex dream but will now have to figure out how to face his sister without wanting to hurl himself out the window.

Can he catch a break?

Taglist - @keylime4eva @xumyboo @jash719 @dmstoyangyang @pitchblack0309 @withluvjm @chaelvrx @httpjeonlicious @lovingkoalaface @rpwprpwprpwprw (ilusm and thank you for reading <3)

[rottiens]

𐙚 contents. not established relationship, jealous gōjō, exhibitionism, mentions of reader x getō, masturbation (m -> f), fem!reader, alcohol, interrupted orgasm. | 1.7k

Gojo holds a lollipop between his fingers, pulling it out of his mouth from time to time. His lips, naturally pink like the roses in the Jujutsu tech garden, are now stained with the artificial reddish hue that melts in his mouth. The lollipop is almost consumed and, if you looked closely, you'd realize it's about to disappear with a few more licks.

Everyone else has a beer in their hands, except for him and you. You fiddle with your phone, switching it from one hand to the other as you talk to Shoko and Mei Mei, trying to keep yourself busy and sober. These days have been long and difficult for you, and you need to stay as clear-headed as possible to avoid saying something you might regret.

From time to time you glance at Geto, who gives you back an lopsided smile that you respond to. But when you look at Gojo, although he tries to hide it, you are quicker and catch him watching you through the blindfold.

Gojo sucks on the lollipop, forcefully wiping away a smile that threatens to escape, and turns his attention to Nanami, who was forced by you to come to this meeting and is saying something seemingly interesting that keeps Gojo's attention occupied.

Shoko asks you something, but you weren't paying attention and you feel guilty. Guilty for not performing well on your last few missions, guilty for having three unfinished reports scattered on your desk, guilty for not paying attention to your friend, and guilty because you're sleeping with two of your coworkers, trying not to lose your mind and two friendships in the process.

"I'm sorry," you apologize to Shoko and walk away from the conversation with a banal excuse without waiting for a response.

You flee to the balcony, open the glass window and lean forward over the railing, letting your body lurch out into the vast emptiness of the road. The damp breeze stirs your hair and cools you a little, but does almost nothing in the face of the heat in your cheeks.

The back of your neck bristles and your spine is struck by an invisible whip that makes you straighten your body, as if someone is lifting your shoulders. You prepare to flee before it's too late, but it's already too late. The smell of Gojo's cursed energy suffocates you like a heavy fog, a clear sign that he is marking his territory and flaunting his power. He's in front of you, still sucking on what little is left of the round lollipop, about to be consumed.

"Satoru!" you feign surprise followed by a forced smile, even though you both know that you and all the guests knew he was there. "Hey, we haven't had time to talk."

He looks you up and down. Though his eyes are covered, he could easily watch you without you noticing, but he makes it obvious, shaking his head exaggeratedly as he shamelessly examines you. Unlike the others, you've removed your uniform jacket, remaining only in dark blue baggy pants and a white tank top.

"That's because you've been avoiding me," he accuses you, sucking exaggeratedly on the lollipop, pulling it out of his mouth and bringing with it a trickle of saliva that he quickly catches with his tongue.

"I…" Focus. "I wanted to spend more time with the girls."

"I'm not talking about now." Gojo takes two steps forward and you have nowhere to run. The short distance between you forces you to lift your face slightly to look at him and cling to reality by tightening your grip on the iron bars. His broad shoulders cover the entrance, hiding you from the people inside the building and creating a contrast between the lights bouncing off his body. "We haven't spoken in days."

"That's because I've been busy." You cross your arms over your chest. Gojo chuckles softly.

"Are you fucking him?" he asks, playing with the lollipop in his mouth. His tongue curls around the sweet girth and flicks it against his pearly teeth purposefully, causing a clicking sound.

"Who?" you dare to ask, the corners of his mouth stretching.

"You want me to use names?"

"Satoru…" you warn him, cornered like an animal, he takes another step closer.

"You smell like him." Your first reaction is to deny it. To say it wasn't what he was thinking, that he was wrong. But that never worked with gojo, when he confronted you it was because he probably already knew everything. So you shut up. "You're not going to deny it then…, fine." He chews, hard. Breaking the candy into small pieces.

"You don't have to be jealous."

Gojo shrugs. "I'm not." He takes another step, still chewing. Another step, and he's completely in front of you. You can't see the entrance, hear the music, or see anything but him. The sensation disarms your shields, your arms drop and surrender to either side of your body, your lower lip trembles.

"Satoru…" you call out to him, you implore him, not sure what you really want to say.

You see his Adam's apple bob up and down. You swallow. A long finger emerges from his sides at your face and you lose your normal breathing rhythm for a moment. You don't feel it, but his finger runs that invisible line between the vast nothingness and your skin from jaw, neck, chest, down to the bare skin of your navel that the top doesn't cover, there, gojo lands with his whole hand. He still stops you from feeling it, but even so the thought makes you shudder.

"Please say something." You ask, shifting your body weight between your heels.

"Do you really want to hear me talk?" Slowly, painfully, you feel the warmth of his palm manifest itself in your abdomen, above your pelvis. Your skin instantly bristles reacting to his touch. "I made you a q-"

You don't let him finish, you're nodding your head before. Gojo laughs, "I don't care who you fuck. As long as you answer my texts, as long as you open the door when I call. As long as…" his fingers push your skin down, pressing against your stomach as they go down… and down into your pants. "Hm, there it is," he chuckles again and his breath rakes your ear. He was so close now that it seemed like you were hugging him if anyone was watching you from afar. "I miss this pussy." Gojo separates your folds with his middle and ring fingers, and what he finds doesn't surprise him. You were already wet, making his job easier. Gojo exposes your clit to his raw touch and with the help of the rough area of the pad of his fingers he begins to rub slowly.

"Not here…" you say, squeezing the sleeve of his uniform. Sticking you closer to his body.

"You don't want Suguru to see you like this?" gojo tsks, tracing rough strokes that make you melt all over him. Immediately your pussy becomes a puddle, sensitive and in need of attention.

This kind of unstable situation between you and Gojo had been going on for months. You were friends, was what he said. But friends don't kiss, don't touch each the way you do, don't hold hands when they're alone. They don't look at you like Gojo does, they don't knock on your door at three in the morning because they were gone for three days and the first thing they have to do is kiss you.

So it was confusing. What led you to make a bad decision….

"I don't mind you fucking him too because you know what?" Gojo growls into the line of your neck, sucking on the skin before speaking again. "Because this pussy belongs to me." You moan at his words, your juices wetting his knuckles. Inevitably, you spread your legs wider and allow him to slide a finger easily inside you. "You're mine."

You moan again, this time you cry against his chest allowing him to finger fuck you, it's embarrassing the sticky sound that fills the balcony, but you need him to keep talking so you can reach orgasm, it's unfair the way your body recognizes and reacts to him. Too immersed in the sensations he alone provokes in you to even think about the idea of the other sorcerers noticing what might be happening just a few feet away from them.

"Make me cum," you implore.

"More?" Gojo mimics you in an exaggerated tone of voice.

Then he stops and pulls away from you, his fingers leaving your pants as quickly as they entered and you watch him bring his fingers to those pretty red lips to lick them.

"Satoru…" you cry out, confused.

"So sweet." He smiles, still with his own fingers in his mouth.

"Why are you stopping?"

"Do you want me to keep going?" You open your lips to answer, but seal them again. Gojo was cupping your pussy over your pants, stroking condescendingly, pushing in just enough to make the folds of your pussy eat your panties, you were burning from the inside out. "Enjoy the party. I'm leaving." He says, kissing your sweaty temple before pulling away completely.

You try to yell for him, but gojo had already turned his back on you and was walking towards the entrance. "Tell Suguru to have fun and oh, please. Tell him I'm not jealous, that would be ridiculous," he turns around just in time to smirk and then pout. "I'm outraged. You guys thought I'd be dumb enough not to notice," gojo presses a hand dramatically to his chest. "That offends me… I made up the whole looking across the room at you and getting caught smiling at each other because I can't stop looking at you. I'm outraged!" he repeats. "Because we all could have been having fun together, but you decided to be selfish," he clicks his tongue. "Anyway…, I'll see you both tomorrow if I decide to come early. Bye, bye! ♡"

[vero1shere]

morning cardio

pairing: soldier boy x payback member!reader

word count: 2.2k

summary:  you convince Ben to turn his morning cardio into something a little more fun.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (it’s fiction guys!!), p in v, teasing, oral sex, very fluffy, breastplay, dryhumping, fingering, cumming inside, overstimulation if you squint, not proofread

masterlist. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁inbox

you weren't really a fan of training. of course, being part of a superhero team meant you had to do lots of it. yet you tried to avoid it as much as you could, it wasn’t as if you didn’t already know how to control your powers. besides, you weren’t really on payback to fight crime or whatever. you were selected mostly as eye candy, and you knew it, you didn’t mind. you did mind having to train though. 

your boyfriend on the other hand? he couldn’t go a day without training. already was the most powerful supe ever but didn’t seem to get enough. 

you had memorised his routine quite well: a lengthy morning run, worked a bit on his powers, his beloved strength training, followed by the occasional swimming or, god forbid, another run. 

Ben tried to get you 'hooked' on it all, claiming you just didn’t like it because you ‘had to train with the other fucking pussies’ in his own words. but his efforts were to no avail. 

you had important things to do... like catching up on your beauty sleep. 

“g’morning doll”, the rasp of Ben’s voice lingered through the early morning air, cold hands trailing over your back. he pressed his lips onto yours at the silent response, watching you not budge even a centimetre in your sleep.

a sigh escaped his mouth as he pressed his knees onto the edge of your bed, bending down to push your hair behind your ears. he called your name softly, making you hum in response. 

“Ben,” you mumbled with sleep heavy in your voice. “you better not ask–”

“come on a run with me,” he pleaded.

you forced an eye open, wincing at the immediate white light surrounding you. blinking rapidly, you honed in on Ben, who was already dressed for his venture, batting his green puppy eyes towards you. 

“Ben, you know i love you very very much,” you cooed, pressing your head further into the warmth of your pillow, “but i'd rather watch swatto shaking his dick in gunpowder’s face”

an abrupt slice of cold air trickled past your bare skin and thin clothes. you yelped, covering your body, immediately missing the comforting heat of your duvet. “Ben! You motherfucker!” you scolded, much more awake now.

Ben gave you a sick grin. “say unwarranted things, get unwarranted things,” he shrugged before grabbing your ankle to drag you off the mattress. 

“no, no, no, no,” you groaned, squirming in his grip. pouting your lips, you quickly reached over to grab Ben's hand. “please,” you whined.

“oh doll,” Ben started, “i just want you to join me. i promise you it'll be good. it's fun morning cardio!”

feeling Ben loosen his grip, you yanked your ankle back and got on your knees, sinking down on the soft mattress. “Ben,” you murmured, hands travelling up his arms as you leaned in.

Ben narrowed his eyes, quickly knowing you were up to something with that sweet tone of yours. 

“name the better cardio. A morning run or…” you trailed off, hand travelling down his arm and past his thigh, resting dangerously close to his crotch. “... morning fun?”

Ben let out a dramatic sigh but he couldn't keep the quirk of his lips at bay. he stretched out his thick arm, grabbing you by the waist. his skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he fully pulled you over him. a quick nudge to your knees left you straddling him. 

“more energy burnt,” you murmured, trying to persuade Ben even though you knew Ben would never need persuading. Ben’s hand reached out to push your hair behind your ears before landing on the soft pillows of your lips. “and a whole lot more pleasure.”

you stared at Ben. Taking in those gorgeous green eyes, the warmth of his skin, those god-made eyelashes, and each little freckle mixed on his face. you had both been so busy lately and it felt like you hadn't seen each other in months.

“what's on your mind, doll?” Ben whispered, thumb still trailing the shape of your lips as those very same eyes searched yours.

“nothing. i just missed you. and your stupid morning cardio,” you rolled your eyes. “is that a crime?”

“then I'm guilty as charged,” Ben confessed, not missing the softening of your eyes as he held you tighter against him. “all I've been thinking about since my last solo mission is coming back to you.”

“yeah?” you whispered, pressing a brief kiss to his cheek. “anything in particular?”

Ben took a deep breath in, your signature fragrance engulfing him. goodness, were you intoxicating. “well... there were picnics, breakfast, and the beach on the agenda. and... morning fun.”

a gasp left your mouth as Ben fell back first onto the mattress, bringing his lips to yours. 

your hands fell around his neck and hair, nose gliding near his as Ben continued to ravage your mouth. he sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans escaping your lips. his own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. he knew as he traversed your burning skin exactly where the small freckles and bumps he had come to love were.

your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Ben’s ears as he moved his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled kisses down the base of your skin.

you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Ben’s bulge.

“shit,” Ben cursed, feeling his cock throb in his shorts. his eyes fluttered shut, hands returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

both of your skins were covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Ben’s clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. you rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. “oh, fuck, Ben,” you moaned his name in his ear.

god, what were you two? sex-crazed teenagers? dry humping on each other like rabbits in heat.

“gorgeous,” Ben panted, eyebrows strained with the urge to cum yet give you all the pleasure he could. “i need... i need…” he breathed, “i need to be in you, fuck.” his entire body shuddered with a sharp arousal while his cock could feel your thin underwear becoming useless and drenched. it was as thin as his patience was wearing.

you made a poor attempt to nod, releasing a hand from his neck. you briefly lifted your hips, pushing your panties to the side. in doing so, your breath hitches as you feel your sensitive folds glide past your fingers.

“oh, fuck,” Ben blubbered, losing himself in seeing your bare pussy and your reaction. “fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, gorgeous. i need you ready for me,” he encouraged breathlessly, attempting to shove off his shorts with one hand.

Ben watched in torture as you pushed your fingers into your warm walls, body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. “that's it, doll,” he continued to praise you, “doing so well for me, hmm?” he asked, moving one hand down your hips, skimming past your burning thigh before reaching the small bundle of nerves situated near your hand.

“a little faster,” Ben said, “you're already so fucking wet. pump those fingers... let me see how much you missed me.”

you were already moaning in a haze at the praises leaving his lips, pushing your fingers in faster, unable to see how your engorged folds took them in as your eyes focused on the ceiling. but the moment you felt the pad of Ben’s thumb on your clit, you had given up every ounce of respect you had for yourself.

“oh, shit, oh shit,” you cursed, hips bucking up at his action. your eyes shut tightly. the white light of ecstasy felt close. your hand sped up faster, your hips went against your fingers and his thumb with a more brutal force, feeling his aching cock bounce under you... you were going to cum. and hard.

and just like that, it was gone.

you snapped your eyes open, falling to your pussy to see Ben’s hand retreating. “fuck baby, don’t tease me” you cursed without looking at his face. 

“i need you to cum on my cock darling” he flashed you a cheeky grin. “i’m sure you understand,” 

you moved your eyes towards him, savouring the hiss falling from his lips as you took his cock out of his underwear. you gave a small smile, guiding his cock to your puffy folds. you both released hitched moans when you rubbed your pussy against him.

you watched as Ben purposely lifted his hips, pushing the tip of his cock against your clit, making your body convulse for a brief second. you pressed your lips together, pushing his cock slowly into your pussy. he was always so big. thick and pulsing in your hands, stretching your pussy out no matter how many times you made love as if it were the first time.

Ben groaned, both hands firmly placed on your hips, head falling back onto the bed headboard. it had been so long. he missed your touch everyday. but the feeling of his cock in your pussy... he thought about it every second of every day.

you pushed your hips down flat, ensuring Ben bottomed out. you groaned at the full feeling of his cock in you, eyeing the small bulge in your stomach. “fuck, you fill me up so well, baby,” you praised.

Ben groaned in response. “ride me doll. you know i like it when you ride me.”

you moaned at his words, taking off the singlet you had slept in. the self control Ben had for your breasts was little. especially, when they bounced in front of him like they were right now. his hands almost immediately shot out, groping the soft mounds with all his might.

immersed in your tits, his body trembled when you raised your hips and slammed down on his cock, repeating the movement again. “ah, shit,” Ben cussed, drunk on your pussy.

you ground your hips forward as you rode his cock, stimulating the pure pleasure of grinding on one another. out of the corner of your eyes, you could see Ben’s hand reach towards your clit. your eyes shut, bracing yourself for what's about to come.

Ben intently watched you, rubbing your clit in soft circles. he could see you slowly fall apart, the fast rhythm of your hips slowing down and becoming sporadic. Your body was shaking with pleasure, your hands reaching towards his thick biceps.

he continued your work for you, lifting your hips with his one hand on your waist. he grunted, feeling you clench around his cock. “cum... cum for me,” he beckoned, increasing the speed of his cock and the pressure of his thumb on your clit.

he smiled at the complete lost look that had fallen on your face. your body jerked and convulsed over him, your brain unable to control it any longer. your climax hit you hard as he denied your previous one not too long ago. your whine was high pitched and dazed. you were completely lost in pleasure.

your pleasure only fuelled his own. your walls were holding his cock like a vice, clamping down on him. you could feel his throbbing cock overstimulating your sensitive pussy.

Ben groaned at the feel of his twitching cock in your walls. he panted, hips racing to chase the urge to cum. “yes, keep moaning in my ear, gorgeous," he mumbled, falling victim to your praises falling from your soft lips and the clench of your pussy.

you both groaned when you felt the hot ropes of his cum spill into your walls. his hips stuttered, faltering against yours as you took every last drop from his cock.

Ben buried his chin into your neck, riding out his last few moments of his climax. “fuck,” he mumbled, letting out a small exhale as he moved his head back and looked at you. he laughed softly at your tired look as he placed a few lingering kisses across your neck, coming to your lips last. “i love you,” he murmured against them.

you smiled gently. “forever?” you asked.

“forever,” Ben confirmed, placing a kiss on your forehead. slowly, he removed his softening cock from your pussy. you both watched his cum mixed with your spill out of you.

you looked up at Ben, eyeing the dark look on his face. you sighed. “morning fun or not, give me at least ten minutes. if not thirty.”

Ben chuckled, moving out from under you and standing in front of you. he swooped you into his arms making you yelp. “let's take a shower. i'll clean you.”

you raised a brow, hands hung around his neck. “just cleaning? that doesn't sound like you,” you retorted with a grin.

Ben smirked, walking you to the bathroom. “you're right. i'll clean you, fuck you, and clean you again.”

[itneverendshere]

THE OTHER SIDE OF PARADISE - rafe cameron (+18) - three

request: "a rafe enemies to lovers 🫣 the reader is jjs sister the whole drama before but then she gets left behind on the ship and rafe ends up comforting her and then yea that’s all I got you can do whatever else the rest 😛"

WARNINGS: maybank!reader; smut!; rafe is a red flag; guns; mentions of human trafficking; 80% of it is smut you've been warned;

word count: 7.9k...

part i; part ii; part iv

Growing up, you had to develop a thick skin.

With two deadbeat parents, it wasn't a choice—it was a necessity. Unlike JJ, you never blamed your mother for leaving. She was a victim too, and despite your nightly wishes and prayers that she had taken you with her, you found solace in knowing that at least one of you had escaped the torment of the Maybank household.

You learned early on to rely only on yourself.

While you had your younger brother, you never placed that burden on his shoulders. As the older sister, it was your responsibility to take the blame for everything and to shield him from Luke's drunken or drug-fueled rages.

You never resented JJ for it, you couldn’t—neither of you asked to be born into that situation.

You tried to take each day slowly, avoiding the house and staying at John B's as much as possible.

It was easier said than done; it was hard not to feel like a burden to your friends, especially since you were the one who had to be the adult in the group.

Kie, Pope, John B…weren’t supposed to take care of you. And yet, they did. They took you in, shared their homes, and gave you the semblance of family you craved but never had. It was a weird balance, living with a foot in both worlds: the chaotic storm of the Maybank household and the calm haven of your friends' places.

At John B's, despite its share of brokenness, it provided a refuge where you could breathe without the constant fear of violence.

You often found yourself on the porch, watching the sunset over the marsh, your mind wandering to dreams of freedom. Those moments were precious, tiny pockets of peace in your life. But no matter how much you tried to distance yourself from the fucking chaos, it was always there, lurking in the background.

Luke Maybank’s shadow was long and dark, and it followed you everywhere. Each time your phone buzzed with a message from JJ, your heart would race, fearing the worst.

It was a burden you bore proudly, protecting your brother from a world that seemed determined to break you both.

You eased into being the provider, to think, to act, to protect. It became second nature, an ingrained part of your identity forged from necessity.

While others your age worried about stupid matters, you were strategizing the best ways to keep your brother safe, figuring out how to stretch what little money you had, and ensuring that there was always something for JJ to eat, even if it meant you went without. 

You learned how to calm Luke down when he was on the brink of a violent outburst, and how to read the signs of an impending beating in his eyes.

You figured out which neighbors might turn a blind eye to your requests for help, and which ones might call social services if they saw too much. There were moments, rare and fleeting when you allowed yourself to dream.

You imagined a future where you and JJ were free from the chains of your upbringing. But dreams were a luxury you could rarely afford.

So, when Rafe told you—no, demanded—that you stayed in the deadbeat motel room while he met up with his contacts, you lost it. 

He'd gotten the text earlier in the morning and decided he was smart enough to lure you out of this. Except he wasn't.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not going.”

You didn’t take it lightly to people making choices for you. Your eyebrows shot up, mouth opening in indignant shock, "You think you can just order me around like I'm some puppet? I'm not staying here while you go off and do God knows what.”

Rafe's eyes narrowed. He wasn’t used to people standing up to him, you knew that. His expression hardened, the arrogance, and entitlement you’d grown to familiarize yourself with flaring up again.

"It's for your own good," his tone was condescending, like you were a child, “You don't understand the kind of people I'm dealing with. It's dangerous."

"Dangerous?" you laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "You think I don’t know what danger is? Look around, Cameron.”

Rafe opened his mouth to retort, but you cut him off, stepping closer and jabbing a finger into his chest. You’d done a lot of that recently.

"It’s my life on the line too. And I’m not going to sit here and wait for you to come back like some obedient little bitch.”

His face practically matched the color of the deep red curtains in your room, “You’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be, Maybank.”

"No, you are," you fired back. "I’m going with you.”

“No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

He took a step away from you, fingers pointed at his temples, “What part of fucking dangerous do you not get?”

“If it’s dangerous for me, it’s dangerous for you.”

Rafe’s jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck tensing visibly. His gaze bore into yours, and you’d be damned if you were the first one to look away.

“This isn’t a game,” he said, clearly growing frustrated with your stubbornness, “You have no idea what these people are capable of.”

“Maybe not,” you conceded, “But I’m not staying behind and you’re not going alone.”

He let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand along his grown-out hair. 

“They chew up people like you.”

 “I’ve been chewed up by worse.”

He knew that.

And then, he saw the determination in you, that unyielding resolve that drove him up the fucking walls and he understood that he wasn’t going to win the fight. Unless he played dirty. 

“You’re too stubborn, y’know that, right?”

You chose to ignore him, grabbing the simple sweater he’d gotten for you the day before at a local market, “So, when do we leave?”

He almost sprinted to the door, “Now.”

You moved to follow him as he stepped outside into the hallway, but before you could follow, he grabbed your arm.

"Wait."

You almost pulled away, frustration boiling over.

"What now?"

His grip tightened, "This might hurt.”

"What?" You tried to twist free, glaring at him.

"Change of plans."

Before you could react, he pushed you back inside the room, slamming the door shut. He didn’t push you hard enough to fall, but the treason came so suddenly that you nearly lost your balance as you heard the lock click, the sound echoing in the small space. 

"Rafe! You piece of shit!” You pounded on the door, “Let me out! You can't do this!"

His voice was muffled but firm from the other side. "Stay here.”

"You motherfucker!" You screamed, kicking the door. But there's no clipped answer from the other side. The only sound was the echo of your own frantic breathing.

He was gone, the stupid bastard.

You collapsed against the door, your breath coming in ragged gasps. Rafe just left you there, locked like some helpless child. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, but you refused to let them fall.

You were a Maybank, damn it, and Maybanks didn’t back down from a fight, even when their choices were taken from them.

In any other situation, you would’ve jumped out the window. You’d done it enough times back home, but this was different.

Your room’s floor was too high and even though you could get away with just a few scrapes or a broken finger, you couldn’t risk putting yourself in such a vulnerable state. You needed your body intact in case danger was nearby. If you had to run for your life, you needed both legs functioning. 

You glanced around the room, eyes landing on the bed, the frame sturdy.

That’s it! 

You thought to yourself as you rushed over and began to strip the sheets from the mattress, working quickly as you tied them together, creating a makeshift rope.

And they said pogues weren’t fucking smart.

It wasn’t your best work, but it was the best you could have under the circumstances.

Once you had fashioned the rope, you secured one end to the bed frame, testing it to ensure it could hold your weight. Satisfied that it was strong enough, you tossed the other end out the window, watching as it unfurled down the side of the building. 

You gripped the makeshift rope tightly and began to lower yourself out the window. It wasn’t your first rodeo; you knew better than to rush. Your heart pounded in your chest as you slowly inched your way down the side of the building.

Finally, your feet touched solid ground, and you released a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You tried to remember bits and pieces of information Rafe had laid out the night before, about the meeting, something about a dingy marine bar, a bartender named Miguel. 

You rushed back inside the motel, ignoring the puzzled look from the front desk guy as you practically demanded information about the bar. He hesitated clearly taken aback by your urgency, the way you blurted out the words, but you didn’t have time for explanations or politeness.

"Just tell me where it is," you pleaded, “It’s important.”

He scribbled down an address on a piece of paper and thrusted it into your hand.

"It's not far from here," his tone was wary, "But be careful. That place is no good for a lady on her own.”

So, nothing new, you wanted to tell him.

Any place infested with men or drunk men was a trap of its own. But instead, you only offered him a curt nod of thanks before running out the door again. You needed to find Rafe, you couldn’t afford to waste any time. 

You nearly raced through the streets, the address clutched tightly in your hand. And then, before you could process what the hell was going on, a hand enveloped your upper arm, fingers digging dip in your flesh before you could make a turn, dragging you to the dark alley you’d avoided.

The situation felt all too familiar. Your heart leaped into your throat, adrenaline pumping in and out of your veins. Instinctively, you struggled against the unknown grip, kicking and clawing in a desperate attempt to break free. Were you getting mugged?

"Let go of me!" you shouted, your voice echoing off the narrow walls of the alley, “I got nothing on me, let me go you stupid fuck!”

With a surge of adrenaline, you mustered all your strength and delivered a sharp elbow to your captor's stomach, causing them to grunt in pain and loosen their hold for a moment.

You wrenched yourself free, stumbling backward as you scrambled to put some distance between you and your attacker. You were about to land the best punch of your life as you spun around to face them, but as you finally got a good look at him, fear turned into anger. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you!”

“Me?” Rafe barked, all up in your personal space, “What the fuck is wrong with you? You jumped out a fucking window?!”

He knew you wouldn’t back down so easily. So he waited around the corner, hoping you were smart enough to keep still even though he knew you would never.

You blinked, the shock of seeing him in front of you momentarily overriding your anger. "You... You locked me in there!"

"Yeah, because you wouldn't listen!" he shot back, his frustration evident in his tone, “Fuck—Jesus fucking Christ.” He was shaking his head wildly, his hands balled into fists as he cursed away like a mantra. 

"I told you; I'm not staying behind while you go off risking your life!" You nearly spit but managed to tone down just enough.

"And I told you, it's too dangerous for you!" Rafe's voice rose with each word, his hands balling into fists at his sides. His pacing intensified, “What the hell were you thinking? What were you gonna do? Walk in and what, huh? You don't even have a gun on you!"

“So? Give me yours!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in disbelief. “Give you, my gun?! Did you hit your fucking head against the concrete?

“I’ll hit your head against the concrete if I have to.”

His left eye twitched in irritation, the look he gave you filled with enough ire to leave a hint of satisfaction sparking in your chest, “Maybank, I have half a mind to spank you right now, don’t fucking push it.”

You ignored him, “You’d rather I go in there unarmed?” you shot back, your voice dripping with sarcasm, “I can do it.”

“Clearly. Look at you,” Rafe’s voice was sharp,“You think I wanted to leave you behind? You think I liked putting you in that room?”

“You didn't give me a choice! You think I was just gonna sit around waiting for you?”

Rafe sighed, palms pressing into his eyes “I’m trying to protect you, God fucking damn it. I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Save it,” You hissed out, pressing a hand to your chest as though to keep everything in. “How am I supposed to trust you when you pull this—this shit!”

Rafe reached into the waistband of his trousers, his movements slow and deliberate. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled out his gun, lifting his shirt in the process. He took your hand and dropped it into your palm.

“Show me.”

“Uh?”

He nodded towards the gun in your hand. “Show me you know how to handle it.”

The sudden changes in his attitude always left you speechless. You hesitated, staring at the weapon in your hand. You had never held a gun before, let alone fired one. But the authority in Rafe’s eyes spurred you to action. With trembling fingers, you checked the safety and made sure the gun was loaded, trying to mimic what you had seen in movies.

“Alright,” Rafe said, his voice low. “Now, point it at me.”

“What?!”

“I said point it at me,” he repeated, “C’mon.”

You swallowed hard, your grip tightening on the gun. This was crazy. With shaky hands, you raised the gun, aiming it at his chest. Your heart pounded in your ears, the weight of the weapon feeling heavier with each passing second.

“Good,” Rafe nodded in approval. “Now, pull the trigger.”

“What the hell?! Rafe?!”

“Trust me, Maybank, just once.”

Your breath caught in your throat.

Pull the trigger? He wasn’t fucking serious, was he? You couldn’t actually shoot him, could you?

But Rafe’s expression remained unwavering. He was being dead serious.

Maybe months ago you would’ve done it without a second guess, but now?

“I’m not pulling the trigger.”

“Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me, okay?”

With a deep breath, you squeezed the trigger, half expecting the gun to recoil in your hand. But nothing happened.

Oh. You had forgotten to chamber a round. He knew that already.

Rafe’s mouth twitched in a half-smile, as if the entire situation was normal, “You forgot to chamber a round.”

You watched him carefully, his bottom lip stuck out and, embarrassingly, you found you wanted to kiss him.

You lowered the gun, your hands shaking with adrenaline. You had just fired a weapon for the first time in your life. He reached out and gently took the gun from your hand, expertly chambering a round before handing it back to you. 

“Try again.”

This time, when you aimed the gun at the wall and pulled the trigger, you felt the recoil jolt along your body as the bullet fired. The sound echoed off the walls of the alley, causing your heart to race even faster.

“Atta girl.”

“I’m still pissed, Cameron.”

“I know,” Rafe conceded as he reached up to brush your hair from your eye, fingers grazing the side of your neck.  “I panicked, okay?”

You studied him for a moment, taking in the tired lines around his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged with exhaustion. He’d done so much for you over the past weeks, it shook you to the core. The countless times he had gone above and beyond, selflessly putting your needs before his own. So maybe, just maybe…you could let it go. 

“Okay.”

"Let's go.”

“Wait, right now?”

“Yeah,” Rafe said, his tone brisk as he holstered the gun. "We’re late.”

Hours later, you collapsed onto the bed, wondering what the hell you’d gotten yourself into, again. The events of the meeting replaying in your mind like a broken record. You’d never met such a group of people before. And you didn’t want to, ever again.

"Human traffickers," you muttered, the words feeling foreign on your tongue. "I can't believe we just met with human traffickers."

Rafe nodded solemnly, "Yeah.”

"I don't trust them. What if... What if they decide to snatch us up and... Oh my god, what if this is all just a ploy..."

“We’re in this together, okay? I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You wanted to believe him.

Your brow furrowed, your mind racing with questions. “How do you even know these people?”

He hesitated, “Barry. It’s... a long story. But right now, what’s important is that we got a way out, yeah?”

You nodded slowly, realizing that asking him for more information wouldn’t get you anywhere.

There were more important things to worry about. 

You didn’t know what was worse, running from Ward Cameron, finding yourself at the mercy of human traffickers, or potentially developing feelings for someone who’d ruined so many lives. 

God, if your brother saw you now…you’d be the greatest disappointment of his life. The mere idea consumed you entirely. The things you’d done.

The way you’d let Rafe into your bloodstream.

You hated yourself for it. Everything felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp, and you hated it.

What would you even tell him? You didn’t even know if had made it, but something told you that he did. He always did. And that meant that sooner or later you’d see him, and you’d have to watch him gradually despise you. 

And then there was Rafe.

The very thought of him made you want to stop breathing altogether. How could you even begin to reconcile the feelings you harbored for someone who had brought so much pain and destruction into your life? It felt like a betrayal to even consider it.

“You good, Maybank?”

You dragged your gaze away from the swirling fan on the ceiling to meet Rafe's concerned stare. He was studying you intently. You shifted on the bed, turning to face him fully. 

"I don’t know,” you muttered, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes, “You?”

He reached out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. His touch always surprised you, how surprisingly light it felt.

“I don’t know.”

He had every reason to abandon you, to wash his hands clean of the entire situation, but he hadn’t.

You nodded, a lump forming in your throat.

It was hard to believe that someone like him could be capable of such tenderness, such vulnerability. But there he was, lying beside you, his attention fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race.

“They’re about you.”

"Me?" you repeated confused, your voice barely a whisper, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the fragile moment between you. 

Rafe nodded, scanning your face for any sign of understanding. "Yeah. You."

Your brows pulled together, “What is?”

He visibly gulped, pressing his lips together, blinking several times before releasing a held breath “The nightmares.”

You almost stopped breathing, "What about them?" 

He shifted uncomfortably, “They used to be just about my mom. Then dad. Now, it’s—uh, it’s just you. Ever since that night, it’s just you. Dying, because of—yeah.”

Oh. 

You hadn’t realized the extent of the impact that night had on him, on both of you

It was a lot to process, and you handy had the time to figure everything out yet.

His fingers brushed over the scar on your arm, and memories flooded your mind. The gunshots, the crippling fear you felt when they got to you, how Rafe reacted, how he touched you. 

“You should’ve told me before.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

You flinched instinctively at his touch, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through your body. For a moment, you let yourself lean into his touch, allowing the warmth of his hand to chase away the ghosts that haunted you.

"Does it still hurt?" He asked, leaning in so his nose brushed against yours; it was warm against your skin. 

You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Not anymore."

His fingers continued their path up, eventually reaching your cheek as he cupped it tenderly, carefully, as if he’d break you if he rushed it. 

You closed your eyes, savoring the closeness between you. And then, almost hesitantly, you felt him lean in, his mouth brushing against yours in a delicate caress. You hardly had to move to kiss him, only tilting your chin up.

It was tender, different from the ones you had before, just so quiet that it made you want to burst into tears. 

You kissed him back, tentatively at first, then with a growing hunger that mirrored the longing you had been feeling deep within your soul. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer as if afraid to let you slip away. In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the dangers lurking in the shadows, not the weight of your past sins, not the uncertain future that lay ahead.

All that existed was the intoxicating feeling between you and Rafe. But as the kiss deepened, a voice of reason scolded you in the back of your mind, reminding you of the consequences of your actions. You pulled away, breathless and dizzy, your heart pounding in your chest.

“We shouldn’t…”

Rafe only stared, before he nodded, understanding dawning in him. He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“I know,” he sighed, “Just get some rest.”

You nodded in agreement, grateful for the distraction. With a heavy grunt, you lifted yourself off the bed, making your way to the bathroom to change into some booty shorts and a simple tee.

When you emerged from the bathroom, Rafe was already settled on the bed, only in his boxers, his attention fixed on some point in the distance. You hesitated for a moment before joining him, the distance and closeness between you feeling suffocating. 

You wanted to say something, anything to break the tension, but the words stuck in your throat like a lump of lead.

Instead, you settled for a nod, and a quiet “Goodnight.” 

You slipped under the covers, the warmth of the blankets cocooning you in a false sense of security. 

“Night, pretty Maybank.”

You shut your eyelids, willing your racing mind to quiet down. But no matter how hard you tried, sleep eluded you, slipping through your fingers like grains of sand. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant sound of passing cars sent a shiver down your spine, your senses heightened to the point of paranoia. You shifted restlessly in bed, the new sheets tangling around your legs like shackles, trapping you in a prison of your own making. 

You heard Rafe's voice beside you, breaking the silence of the room, “Can’t sleep if you keep moving.”

“Sorry.”

Rafe reached out, his hand finding yours in the darkness, “What is it?”

“I can’t sleep.”

His hold tightened around yours, "I know, Maybank," he spoke in a ushed tone, "But you're safe here. Try to relax, okay?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, already feeling the upcoming headache, “I don’t know how to.”

It was quiet again for a minute and you feared you’d bored the man to sleep with your insecurities, but then he spoke again.

“Turn around.”

You opened your eyes, even though you could barely see him. Was he telling you to spoon him?

“What?”

Rafe's thumb gently brushed against the back of your hand in a soothing rhythm, “Turn round f’me, kay?”

With a soft sigh, you did as he asked, turning onto your side to face away from him.

He moved closer, his body pulling against yours as he wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against his chest. His warmth enveloped you like some kind of shield as he pressed a light kiss to the back of your neck, his lips lingering against your skin. 

“There,” he whispered, his breath tickling your ear. “Better?”

Oh fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

These were dangerous waters.

If you couldn’t sleep before, you sure as hell weren’t about to do it now. All you could think about was that night, how he felt, how he touched you, how he fit right. 

An almost overwhelming feeling of arousal took over you, and with whatever courage you had left from the day, you moved again, pressing yourself impossibly closer to him. His warmth seeped into your skin, melting away the tension that had coiled tight in your muscles during the day, you could feel every ridge and turn of his body.

Your touch drew a low, guttural groan from Rafe, his breath hot against your skin as he pressed closer, his arousal unmistakable against your back. His teeth grazed your shoulder, followed by the flick of his tongue, and you released a breathy sigh as he lowered his head to bite the area.

His arm tightened around you as you traced the contours of his fingers, mapping out the familiar territory with ease and want. His heartbeat echoed against your back, a steady rhythm that matched the frantic beat of your own heart.

His lips brushed against your neck, sending a jolt of electricity straight to your core, “Relax,” he murmured, his hoarse, “’M right here.”

With a boldness that surprised even yourself, you shifted your hips, grinding back against him, seeking the friction that would ease the ache between your legs and your head.

Rafe's reaction was immediate, his hands roaming over your body with a fervor that left you dizzy. His fingers found their way to the hem of your shorts, teasing the sensitive skin with feather-light touches. You twisted your fingers into his long hair, tugging lightly, delighting in the gasp it pulled from him.

“Tell me to stop, please,” His mouth brushed against your ear again, words coming out a slurred mess.

You ran you finger over his leg, where his boxers had risen, the warm skin driving you insane. If you lifted your fingers just a little higher, you’d be able to feel all of him.

You had to bite back a squeal when his thumb brushed over your covered nipple, “I can’t.”

You felt the tension in his muscles as he paused for a moment, his grip on you tightening. An unrestrained, almost desperate plea escaping his mouth, "Are you sure?"

You swallowed hard. This was so fucking wrong. But underneath it all, you knew what you wanted.

You turned your head slightly, your lips grazing his jawline as you muttered a "Yes."

You gasped when Rafe raised his thigh, placing it between your own, as he used his hands on your hips to guide you back and forth, grinding you down against his skin. You couldn’t remember a time you’d ever felt so out of control, so desperate for someone’s touch. The thin barrier of your shorts and panties felt like an unbearable hindrance, a small but significant obstruction to the shattering desire you needed to reach.

One of his hands slipped under the waistband of your panties, the other splaying across your stomach, holding you firmly in place. His fingers found you slick and ready, a whimper vibrating across his chest at the discovery.

“Fuck,” he breathed out, his fingers starting a slow, torturous rhythm against your clit.

You bucked against his hand, seeking more, needing more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, and you turned slightly to capture his lips in a heated kiss.

You felt his tongue press against yours and you nearly came on the spot. He slowly circled your clit, sending your hips jerking into him, “I can’t stop touching you.”

You struggled to form words as breathy moans escaped your mouth, “Please don’t,” you rasped, your thoughts turning to mush as he dipped the tips of his fingers inside you, gathering your wetness. When you finally found your voice, it was a mere screech, “Rafe...”

“I’ve got you,” he murmured back, finally pushing two fingers inside you, at an agonizing pace, “I’ve got you.”

Your jaw went slack as he curled his thick fingers, a gasp escaping when he found that spot that made you see stars. Your nails involuntarily dug into his skin. The heel of his hand pressed against your clit, pulling another moan from you. With his other hand still on your hip, he pushed you back, guiding you to grind against his fingers.

The rhythm he set was maddening.

His breath was hot against your neck, his voice a growl as he removed his fingers, making you whine in protest.

He glided one between your folds, the wetness easing up the process, “You’re so fucking perfect,” he muttered, his words sending a thrill down your spine. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Ra—You’re gonna make me come,” you gasped as his arm left your waist, sliding underneath your ribcage and resting on your chest, kneading your breast through the fabric of your shirt, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, baby, that’s the point,” he purred into your ear, two fingers sliding inside you again, so suddenly you threw your head back again, thighs clenching together tightly as he pumped his fingers in and out.

At this point, you were lightheaded, fucking yourself back onto him, grinding down as you chased your orgasm. 

“Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice trembling with desperation. “Please, Rafe...”

His fingers quickened their pace, each thrust sending oceans of pleasure down your body. “Not stopping,” he promised,“Want to feel you dripping around my fingers.”

His words sent you spiraling, the buzz inside you building to an unbearable peak. Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the intensity of your approaching climax. Rafe's touch was relentless, his fingers curling inside you, hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“Rafe—” you cried out, your voice breaking as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure radiating from your pussy.

Your body convulsed, and you clung to him, nails digging into his arm as you rode out the ecstasy.

Rafe held you without a break, his fingers never slowing, drawing out every last tremor of your release. When you finally came down, breathless and spent, he withdrew his fingers, not giving you a break to breathe as he shuffled behind you, pulling his boxers down, just enough to release his aching cock, doing the same to you as he slid his length between your folds.

The sensation was…everything, his heaviness pressing against your sensitive, slick entrance, the heat of him making you shiver. You bit your lip, suppressing a scream as Rafe's hand gripped your hip, holding you steady.

“Shit shit”, you breathed out, barely able to form coherent thoughts. The anticipation coiled inside you again, your body already aching for him, “’M sensitive.”

“Shhhh,” he purred, his voice husky against your ear. “Just relax, pretty.”

He rocked his hips slowly, the head of his fat cock teasing your entrance, not pushing in but sliding between your folds, spreading your wetness over his length. 

Holy fuck, you’d gone to heaven.

Rafe's breath hitched, his grip on your hip tightening as he tried to control himself.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, “So perfect.”

“Oh my god,” you sighed, biting your lip when his tip bumped against your clit, “I need you to—Shit, just fuck me.”

With a slow, deliberate motion, he angled his hips and began to push inside you, inch by tantalizing inch. The stretch was exquisite, slowly filling you in a way that left you gasping, your body accommodating him with a shuddering breath.

“Jesus,” Rafe hissed, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as his cock twitched inside you. “So tight.”

Your fingers dug into the sheets, the thrill and the sensation of being filled to the hilt almost too much. You could feel every part of him, the way he throbbed inside you, the way his body fit perfectly against yours. You felt his breathing against your skin, coming out in uneven and ragged breaths.

He started a slow, steady rhythm, each thrust measured and deep, pulling out almost completely before pushing back in.

His other hand found your breasts, kneading the sensitive flesh through your shirt, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

You couldn’t hold back the mewls that escaped your lips, each movement driving you higher, the tension building again. Rafe’s breath was ragged against your ear, his lips brushing your skin in sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

He gently bit your earlobe, withdrawing his hips until only the tip of him remained inside you, before slowly pushing back in with deliberate, languid movements. You reached back, tangling your fingers in his hair once again.

“Rafe... harder, please,” you begged, shame thrown out the window, “I need it harder.”

He moaned, the sound vibrating through his chest as he complied, his hips snapping against you with more force, the sound of skin against skin filling the room. His hand slid down from your chest to your clit, circling the sensitive nub in time with his thrusts.

You felt the familiar coil of pleasure tightening, your body tensing as you teetered on the brink.

“Can’t belie—fuck. Can’t believe I get to have you again.”

You curved your back again, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor, your body craving the release that was so so close.

“I c-can’t hold on much longer,” you gasped, your voice barely more than a breathless whimper.

“Then let go,” Rafe growled, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “Come for me, baby. I want to feel you.”

You groaned, “I want to see you when I do.”

Before he could answer, you pulled away from him, making him groan, but you shut him up as you turned to face him, dragging your shorts and panties out of the way, not looking where you threw them as you quickly lifted your body and settled over his, hands pressed to his naked chest as you rubbed yourself against him. 

Rafe's hands gripped your hips firmly as you positioned yourself above him, “You tryn’ to kill me, pretty Maybank?”

You smirked, leaning down to press a quick peck against his lips, “Yeah.”

Without any warning, you lowered yourself onto him, both gasping at the sensation of being joined once again. He filled you completely, stretching you in the most delicious way, his tip touching your cervix.

Your movements were slow at first, savoring all of him, every sensation that rippled from end to end of your body. But soon, the slow burn grew into a raging inferno, and you found yourself moving faster, chasing that peak of pleasure one more time.

“Get this fucking thing off,” He growled, pulling at your shirt. You would’ve found it funny if you weren’t so desperate to feel him.

You sat up, quickly tugging the shirt over your head and tossing it aside. Rafe's eyes darkened with lust as he took in your bare chest, his hands immediately finding your tits, thumbs brushing over your nipples in a way that made you gasp and arch into his touch.

You started to move again, lifting yourself up before sinking back down onto him, each movement sending waves of desire through both of you.

A filthy kiss followed, all spit and tongues tangling messily as if trying to devour each other whole.

The taste of him filled your mouth, cigarettes and toothpaste, his moans mingling with yours.

The kiss was a brutal assault, his teeth nipping at your lips, drawing blood, which only seemed to fuel the frenzied rhythm of your body. Rafe's grip on your hips tightened, guiding your movements, and encouraging you to take him deeper, pounding into you, abs flexing.

You leaned forward, your hands bracing against his sturdy chest, the new angle allowing him to hit even deeper inside you. The room was filled with the sound of your heavy breathing, your cries, and the rhythmic, filthy, slap of skin against skin.

“Fuck, this pussy can’t be real,” Rafe groaned, his eyes locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your heart race. “Ride me harder, baby. Wanna watch you.”

You increased your pace, the friction and fullness driving you closer to the edge with each thrust. His hands moved from your hips to your waist, holding you steady as you moved, his touch grounding you even as you felt like you were about to come apart at the seams. His thumb found your clit again, rubbing it in tight, precise circles that had you crying out his name.

“Oh god, Rafe, I’m s-so close,” you panted, your body trembling with the effort to hold back your release, wanting to savor every second of this moment.

“Come for me, pretty. Wanna to feel you drippin’ all over my cock.”

That was all it took.

With a loud moan, you came, your body convulsing around him, your nails digging into his chest as the phases of your pleasure crashed over you. Rafe watched you, his expression one of pure awe, jaw slack open as his hands never left your body.

As your climax subsided, your breathing ragged and your limbs trembling, he gently kissed your temple, his lips tender. He murmured soothing words and you swore you were on cloud nine.

You felt his heartbeat, steady and strong against your own. His fingers traced lazy circles on your back, calming you, bringing you back to earth. 

But as the pleasure subsided, you became acutely aware of Rafe's cock still hard and throbbing inside you. His breath was ragged, his eyes void of any color, and you knew he was on the brink. You lifted yourself slightly, feeling him slip almost out of you before you sank back down, taking him deep again, despite the way your thighs burned, the way your hole ached.

"Rafe," you called, “Need to feel you come inside me."

His grip on you tightened, his eyes briefly closing as a guttural moan escaped his lips. He released you for a moment, only to bring his hand down sharply, delivering a stinging smack to your ass,

"Watch your fucking mouth.”

The sudden impact made you gasp, the pain amplifying your desire.

Rafe's eyes snapped open,"You like that, don't you?" he growled, "Look at you."

You could only nod, breathless and aching for more. His hands returned to your hips, guiding your movements with a renewed urgency. The sting from the slap lingered, a delicious reminder of his dominance, the only place you'd let him take the lead.

You started to move again, your pace slow and deliberate, your movements designed to drive him wild. Each time you sank onto him, you could feel him throbbing, his control slipping with every passing second. His fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he tried to hold on.

"Please, baby," you whined, "I need to feel your cum."

The pet name did it.

With a growl, he shifted, flipping you onto your back and pinning you beneath him.

The sudden change made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his ass as he drove into you in a mean mating press. His pace was relentless, like he’d die if he stopped.

The sounds of your “oh’s” mixed with his grunts, only amplified the passion. You could feel the tension coiling inside him, the way his body strained against yours, every muscle taut with anticipation.

"Gonna fill you up,” he grounded out, his voice strained, "So fucking close."

You tightened your legs around him, pulling him deeper, your nails raking down his back, leaving red trails in their wake. "Come for me, baby," you urged, your desire reigniting at the thought of him finding his release, “Need you so bad.”

His eyes snapped open, locking onto yours with a feral intensity. "You want my cum?" he growled, thrusting harder, making you cry out in pleasure. "Beg for it."

"Please, Rafe," you gasped, feeling the pressure building inside you, "Fill me up. I need it. I need you."

With a final, powerful thrust, Rafe's body stiffened, his head dropping to rest against your shoulder as he let out a hoarse cry. You felt the hot rush of his release, the pulsing of his cock as he emptied himself inside you. His entire body trembled, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps as he rode out his orgasm. You could feel him pulsing, the warmth flooding you as he let out a primal growl, his grip on you almost bruising.

And right there, another orgasm ripped through you, your body tightening around him as you cried out his name.

He collapsed onto you, both of you panting and trembling. His weight was comforting, his breath hot against your neck as he pressed soft kisses to your skin, his earlier roughness giving way to a tender aftermath.

You held him close, your hands running soothingly over his back, feeling the ridges of the muscles you had just marked with your nails. Your own body still buzzed with the aftermath of your pleasure.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, a look of pure adoration in his gaze that left you speechless. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a tender, lingering kiss.

He cradled your face in his hands. "We’re gonna be okay," his breath felt warm against your lips.

The sincerity in his voice made your chest tighten with emotion.

Tears welled up in your eyes as his lips touched yours again, the faint tender kiss so different to the man you used to know. You tried to hold back, to keep the overwhelming tide at bay, but you broke, and a sob escaped your lips.

He pulled back slightly, concern etched across his pretty features. "Hey," he murmured, his thumb brushing away the tears that spilled down your cheeks. "What’s wrong? Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head, "No, it’s not that," your voice trembled, “I’m scared.”

Rafe's expression softened, thumbs gently caressing your cheeks. "Shh, it's okay," he soothed, "Let it out, baby. I’m right here."

You buried your face in his chest, your tears soaking into his skin. The warmth of his embrace, the rhythm of his heartbeat, and his hold were the only thing keeping you together at this point and if you weren’t feeling so much, you’d feel pathetic for relying so much on someone else.

He held you tightly, his hand stroking your hair as you cried, releasing the pent-up anxiety.

"We—I, I don’t know what I’m doing," you admitted through your tears, your voice muffled against his chest. "I’m really, really scared.”

Rafe kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering, "I know, Maybank," he whispered,"I’m scared too.”

You pulled back slightly, looking up at him through tear-filled eyes. "You are?"

He nodded, his attention never wavering from features.

"Yeah, I am. This...And—don’t know what I’m doing either. But I want it. I want you."

“But it’s wrong.”

“I know, pretty.”

He pulled out slowly, both of you hissing at the sensitivity. Rolling onto his side, he gathered you into his arms, holding you close. You nestled against his chest.

“I’m sorry for jumping out the window,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his skin, “You just...make me so angry.”

He chuckled softly, his fingers running through your hair in soothing strokes. "I shouldn’t have locked you in.”

You closed your eyes, feeling the last of your tears dry against his skin. You knew things wouldn’t be easy, but his reassurance gave you a little strength.

After a while, Rafe shifted slightly, tilting your chin up to meet his gaze. 

"We’ll figure this out, Maybank.”

“Promise?”

He hesitated, his brow furrowing slightly.

Promises weren’t something he was used to making, you knew that. But then he nodded.

“Promise.”

[nctnanajaemin]

"my brother's bestfriend" pairing:lee jeno x na!sister reader word count:4.5k chapter two

MINORS DNIwarnings: smut, unprotected sex (wrap it irl), pinv, cursing, use of pet names (princess, baby, and pretty girl), praise, slight spanking.

you stretch out on chenle's bed, feeling the weight of the long drive home from college still clinging to your muscles. chenle's voice pulls you from your thoughts. "so, are you excited for the 'welcome home y/n' party?"

you shrug. "i guess. i'm just not ready for all of the drama that comes with taeyong's parties."

"you barely even witness it. you are always sucking jeno off somewhere."

you know full well that he's right, but you'd never admit to it. as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a message from jeno.

you roll your eyes and lock your phone, letting it fall onto your chest.

"you done sexting jeno now?" chenle laughs.

"i was not sexting him," you protest.

"suuuure," chenle replies in a sarcastic tone. "that's why you're smiling like a dumbass."

"he's irritating."

"and yet, you keep texting him," chenle points out.

you don't have a good response to that, so you just shrug again. "it's complicated."

"complicated? you're just being a dumbass and hooking up with your brother's best friend because it's exciting," chenle retorts, shaking his head. "don't pretend like you don't have feelings for him."

"i don't."

"keep telling yourself that. but i know damn well that you don't hook up with someone for years without any feelings involved. and i also know how you look at him when you think no one is paying attention. so don't even try and deny it."

"i think you're delusional."

chenle rolls his eyes. "oh sure, i'm the delusional one. has jaemin talked to you at all since you two got into it on the phone last night?"

"nope. he's probably pouting about it somewhere. i don't really care though. he was acting like a dick and he'll get over it ."

"i still can't believe it's because you told him you were thinking about moving into my extra room."

"i know. he acts like i'm still a child that needs to ask permission from my older brother before doing anything."

-----

the party is in full swing by the time you arrive at taeyong's place. the music is loud, the lights are dim, and the house is filled with the familiar faces of you and your brother's friends.

after what feels like hours of catching up with everyone, you finally find a moment to breathe. you're standing in the kitchen, sipping on a drink, when you feel someone looking at you. you turn to see jeno, his expression unreadable.

"how come you're avoiding me?" he asks.

"i'm not," you reply, trying to keep your tone neutral.

"you walked right past me when you got here."

"you were talking to jaemin," you explain, your patience already wearing thin. "and he's currently not talking to me. i wasn't going to just walk up and start talking to you."

jeno narrows his eyes. "hm. and since when are you and chenle so close? you two used to never get along."

"yes we did. i just wasn't allowed to hang out with him because jaemin kept telling my mom i was staying over there and it caused a bunch of drama. what, are you jealous that i went to hang out with him instead of you?"

"no. i just find it weird that the whole time you are away, you are texting me and shit, and the second you get back, it's like i don't exist."

"hey, you ruined that for yourself. if you weren't such an asshole the last time you drove out maybe i wouldn't be being so rude to you."

his jaw clenches. "how was i an asshole? i had every right to be pissed off. you told me to drive out, and i did, and then you made plans to fuck someone else right in front of me."

"that's a lie and you know it. i didn't talk to a single person the whole time you were there. not to mention you are the only person i've ever slept with." you look around, hoping to find someone to escape to.

"mark's waving me over. i'll talk to you later," you tell him, walking away.

you wander back to chenle and he immediately notices your mood change.

"you okay?" he asks, throwing an arm around you.

"jeno's pissing me off," you admit, filling him in on what just happened.

"don't let him ruin your night, y/n/n. he's just mad because you aren't giving him the attention he wants. come on, let's go dance and piss him off some more."

chenle pulls you to a slightly less crowded area and the two of you dance. more people file in after a while and chenle pulls you into him.

"he's in here. work your magic," chenle whispers, his hands resting on your hips as you grind against him.

but after a while, you realize jeno is barely even paying attention. frustrated, you decide to give up and slip upstairs to use the bathroom.

as you exit the bathroom, you're suddenly pulled into taeyong's room. you stumble a little and look up to find jeno. "of course it's you. what do you want?" you ask.

"you think it's funny to try and make me jealous?"

you roll your eyes and head for the door. this is exactly what you wanted to happen, but you weren't about to let him find that out. "go back to the party. i'm sure you have plenty of other girls to keep you company."

he pulls you back and pins you between him and the wall. "i don't want some random girl. i want you."

"that sucks. not interested," you tell him, trying to hide the fact that you're getting turned on.

he leans in close, his face just inches away from yours. "so you've just decided to act like a brat for no reason then, hm?"

"i'm not a brat." you protest, a little too quickly.

jeno smirks, clearly amused by your reaction. "sure."

your eyes flicker from his lips back to his eyes, and then back before you can stop yourself.

his cocky smirk from earlier growing wider as he notices your gaze. "you're a little too obvious, princess."

his mouth is on your neck now, planting soft kisses. you hate that it feels so right when you're supposed to be angry at him, but your body isn't getting the memo, instead, betraying you with the increasing heat between your thighs and the goosebumps spreading across your body.

without warning, he lifts you up and you wrap your legs around him while he carries you over to the bed. your back hits the sheets and he's above you, his mouth reclaiming your neck. you're still trying to maintain your composure, but you absolutely lose it when he grinds against you.

he lifts his head from your neck and his eyes meet yours. "you're so bad at pretending to hate me."

"shut up."

he laughs and kisses you, this time with more urgency. you bite his bottom lip in return, making him groan. his fingers glide over the soft skin of your stomach as he slides the shirt up your body, exposing more of your skin to him. he's taking his time, sliding it up excruciatingly slow just to tease you.

you're tired of him being cocky and you want to see him fall apart under your touch. you break the kiss and push his shoulders back, switching your positions so you're straddling his lap. he's still smirking up at you and before he can say anything you press your lips to his again, slipping your tongue between his lips. his hands slide up your thighs, gripping them as you kiss, your hips grinding down on him.

his breath catches and he breaks the kiss, looking up at you. "someone's in a hurry," he mutters.

you ignore him and start undoing the buttons on his dress shirt. you grind a little harder onto him and his head tilts back as he lets out a groan.

his shirt is now fully unbuttoned and you push it from his shoulders, his hands roaming over your sides and up your back. you lean down to kiss his neck, trailing your lips over his skin. his hands find your hips and he presses you down, grinding you against him. his nails dig into your skin and you can feel him getting harder under you. you nibble at his earlobe and he lets out a shaky breath, his grip on you tightening as he tries to control himself.

"y/n" he mumbles, his voice low and strained.

"jeno" you whisper, your breath hot on his neck.

"i hate you," he moans, his hands still gripping your hips tightly.

you have him right where you want him. "that's my line. get your own."

he laughs and something clicks in his mind. suddenly he flips you over and pins your hands above your head with one of his. "can't let you keep this upper hand," he grins down at you.

"i was enjoying that," you pout, attempting to wriggle your wrists from his grasp.

"a little too much," he replies, his grip on your wrists firm. his free hand slides your shirt up and he lets go of your hands for a split second to lift it over your head.

stupidly you try to switch positions and it ends with your hands pinned above your head again. he takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, biting his lip as his eyes scan over your chest.

"take a picture it'll last longer," you tell him, getting impatient.

"don't need to. you've sent me enough."

he doesn't bother to remove your bra just yet, instead, he continues to kiss along your stomach. he reaches the waistband of your skirt and looks up at you. "are you going to behave if i release your hands?" he asks, his grip on your wrists still firm.

you nod eagerly and he lets go, sitting back on his heels as you prop yourself up and unclip your bra. you toss it onto the floor and he takes your skirt off.

you bite your lip as his finger traces along your inner thigh. "you are such a tease," you whine as his finger brushes over your clothed folds.

"you're one to talk. you look so good like this though. all flushed and spread out for me."

you cover your face with your hands, and he lightly smacks your leg. "take your hands off your face or i'm done."

you take your hands off your face and he slowly slips your underwear down your legs, discarding them somewhere on the floor. his hand moves back up your thigh as his gaze remains fixated on you. "you're so beautiful," he tells you, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your lips as his thumb brushes closer to where you want him most.

"please," you beg, your hips arching towards him.

"please what, baby?" he asks.

"t-touch me already," you manage to stutter out, your nails digging into the sheets.

his thumb slightly grazes your clit, causing you to let out a gasp. he dips his finger lower, circling your entrance before pulling away.

you groan in frustration. "they're going to notice one of us is gone soon."

"is that you tapping out?" he asks.

you're torn between your frustration and your desire. "no. i just need you to fuck me. if you don't want to, i'll go find someone else."

his gaze darkens at your words, the amused expression on his face disappearing in an instant. "what did you just say?" his tone is low.

"you're not the only guy here who wants me, you know." you reply, trying to sound unaffected by his intimidating glare.

he scoffs before flipping you harshly onto your stomach. "you think i'm going to just let you go find some other guy after you just admitted downstairs that I'm the only guy you've ever slept with?" he smacks your ass and you gasp at the sudden roughness.

"what are you going to do?" you ask, your voice coming out breathier than intended.

he takes your hands and pins them above your head again, his chest pressed firmly against your back. "who else here wants you? hm?"

you feel the heat between your legs grow more intense as he speaks. he pulls back slightly, still holding your wrists together above you. you can feel the material of his jeans against your bare skin, the feeling alone causing you to grind back against him slightly, desperate for any kind of friction.

as expected, he notices your desperate attempt to get friction and laughs. "now, princess, we need to discuss your punishment."

"punishment?"

"i think you need to learn a lesson in obedience, and the most effective way is to deny you the pleasure you so desperately crave."

your eyes widen in disbelief. "no. that isn't fair."

"and why isn't it?"

"because i…" you trail off, unable to find the right words to say.

"because you…" he prompts, letting go of your wrists. "finish your sentence, princess." his hands move down your body, slowly, tracing patterns on your skin.

"because i-" you start again, unable to form a coherent thought with his hand slowly sliding lower.

"you're going to have to do better than that if you want to come tonight."

you whine softly, your body practically begging for him to touch you. you feel yourself grow wetter. "i'm sorry. please fuck me and just forget what i said." you mumble.

"hmm, i don't know. you tried to threaten me just five minutes ago. i think you need to learn some patience, pretty girl." he tells you, kissing your neck.

you arch your back again, trying to get closer to him. "please. i'll be good."

"do you promise?" he whispers, the low timbre of his voice making your knees weak.

"yes, yes, i promise. i'll be good." you reply, your words becoming more desperate as you push your hips back to meet him.

"you really are pathetic. you know that."

you feel a strange mix of humiliation and pleasure wash over you. "i'm sorry," you murmur.

"sorry?" he asks, his tone suddenly cold. "what are you sorry for?"

"i'm sorry for being bratty earlier," you rush out, your voice trembling slightly.

"that's it?"

"no, i'm sorry for threatening to leave and find someone else and i'm sorry for being impatient."

"and…" he prompts again.

"i-i don't know."

"you don't know…" he sighs, pulling away. you feel a momentary sense of panic wash over you, worried he's going to leave you desperate and unsatisfied.

"i don't. i'm sorry."

"what about the whole thing with chenle downstairs, hmm."

"i'm sorry for trying to make you jealous."

"mm, good girl." he praises as you hear him undoing his belt.

you can't see him from your current position, but you can feel his weight shifting behind you, followed by the sound of his belt and jeans hitting the floor. you bite your lip in anticipation, your body still craving his touch.

"arch your back for me, pretty girl." you follow his instructions and feel his hands on your hips as he positions himself behind you. "you look so perfect like this." he murmurs. "so eager and desperate for me." you shiver under his touch, your body responding to his words without hesitation.

"please," you whisper, your voice hoarse. "i need you."

"need me, huh?" he muses. "do you deserve me, baby?" the question hangs in the air, and he waits for your response.

"yes. please. i'll do anything." you plead, your need for him overshadowing any sense of pride you may have had earlier. "touch me, please."

"i like seeing you desperate." he tells you and you feel him shift slightly, his body pressing closer to yours. you feel his tip tease your entrance and you let out a breathy moan. "you ready?" he asks and you nod. "words, baby. i need to hear you say it."

"yes," you tell him.

his grip on your hips is firm as he pushes into you, a low groan escaping his mouth. he pauses for a moment, allowing you to adjust before he starts to move. "you're going to take all of me, right baby?"

"mhm," you hum.

his motions are slow and deliberate, making sure you feel every inch of him. you arch your back, pressing your hips back against him, the feeling overwhelming.

"that's my good girl. taking me so good," he whispers.

he picks up the pace of his thrusts and you feel yourself getting lost in the sensations, your mind a foggy mess. your fingernails dig into the sheets desperately as you try to find something to anchor yourself to. "oh, f-fuck," you moan, the sound catching in your throat as he finds a steady pace.

he presses closer to you, his chest pressing tightly against your back as he nuzzles his face into your neck. "you feel so good," he says between kisses, his breath hot against your skin. the combination of his movements and the praise has you in a state of ecstasy.

"don't stop," you manage to gasp out. his pace remains steady, drawing out your pleasure for as long as possible. you feel yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, your legs start to shake, causing you to clench around him, desperate for release.

"you close, baby?" he asks, and you nod frantically in response, too lost in the moment to form words.

he presses one final kiss to your neck before suddenly pulling out. you whine but he just laughs in response. "no, no. don't worry, we aren't done yet."

you feel a mix of curiosity and frustration as he guides you onto your back, gently maneuvering your limbs to his liking. he takes a moment to appreciate the sight of you spread out for him again before sliding back between your thighs.

your legs instinctively wrap around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper inside you. he lets out a moan as his hands trail over your body. "you're so perfect," he whispers, his voice filled with admiration and awe.

his pace quickens and you can feel yourself getting close again. he presses his forehead against yours, his breathing heavy. his thrusts grow harder and more erratic, your moans growing louder in response.

you feel yourself teetering on the edge, your nails digging into his back as your legs start to shake again. "i-im-" you stumble over your words, your body writhing with pleasure.

"i know, baby. go ahead."

your body tenses as you reach your release. he continues his movements for a couple more thrusts and releases inside you before collapsing on the bed next to you.

you lay there for a moment, both of you panting heavily. "i don't think i'll be able to walk tomorrow," you finally say, breaking the silence between you.

he laughs, his breath hot against your neck. "i'd apologize, but that means i'd have to regret it," he teases.

you roll your eyes, a small smile playing on your lips. "you're such an ass," you mutter, although your words lack any real annoyance.

"you love it." he retorts, pulling you closer to him.

the two of you lay there for a little bit until jeno realizes that your eyes are closed and decides it's probably time to try and get you up. "we should probably head back down soon," he tells you, pushing the hair out of your face.

you let out a groan of irritation at being woken from your momentary peaceful bliss. "five more minutes." you beg, burying your face against his chest.

"we both know that if we stay up here any longer, you're gonna end up falling asleep and not wake up until tomorrow," he says, gently untangling himself from you and sitting up. you roll onto your back to pout at him as he stands up and starts to get dressed, the sight leaving you with conflicted feelings.

you hate to admit it, but you kind of like the side of him that's gentle and caring. it clashes so much with his arrogant and cocky personality. once he's fully dressed, he turns to look at you, still lying there naked and pouting.

"come on, princess, up you get," he tells you, picking up your scattered clothes from around the room and setting them on the bed beside you.

you sigh, slowly sitting up and stretching your arms above your head. you grab your bra and put it on. he watches with amused fascination as you struggle to pull on your skirt while still sitting down. you stumble forwards when you try and stand up as your legs feel like jelly. he catches you before you can fall.

"careful, baby," he tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist to steady you.

"stop calling me baby," you grumble.

"sorry, my bad. i meant pretty girl," he jokes, the pet name making you roll your eyes.

you don't know why, but his taunts don't seem as irritating as usual. "whatever. let's go downstairs," you say, reluctantly untangling yourself from him.

the both of you head for the door. "do you want a piggyback ride downstairs?" he asks, turning around to face you.

"do you think that's a good idea? what if someone sees us?"

"it's better than watching you tumble all the way down the stairs. and if anyone sees us i'll think of something, don't worry." he tells you, crouching down in front of you.

you reluctantly climb onto his back. "if you drop me, i swear—"

"yes, i'm aware. you'll kick my ass," he laughs, standing up and starting to descend down the stairs.

the two of you make it downstairs without incident. jeno sets you down and you glance around the room, the only person you notice watching the two of you is chenle.

"i'll text you later, yeah?" jeno says, fixing his shirt that got messed up on the way down here. you nod, waving him off as he goes back to his friends.

chenle waves you over. you walk over and sit next to him, expecting him to say something, but he only creepily smiles at you instead.

"what are you smiling about?" you ask, feeling a pit of dread in your stomach.

"did you two, y'know…" chenle gestures vaguely, leaving the rest unsaid.

you feel your cheeks get hot, feeling embarrassed at being caught and wanting to strangle him for his meddling. "it's none of your business," you mutter, trying to brush him off.

"you're blushing. you totally did!" he exclaims, nudging you with his elbow. "so spill, did he finally admit his feelings?"

"what are you talking about?" you ask, genuinely confused as to what he's getting at.

chenle rolls his eyes, clearly exasperated by your cluelessness. "jeno is obviously in love with you. he just likes to act like a dick as a defense mechanism," he explains, as if it should be obvious.

"no he isn't. shut up."

"oh, please. he's like a lost puppy around you. you laughed the one day and the guy practically broke his neck to see who made you laugh. it's so obvious he's utterly smitten."

"i think it's time for you to be cut off. you've reached your limit," you tell him, taking his beer.

"hey!" chenle whines, trying to get his beer back.

you stick your tongue out at him and take a sip of his beer, enjoying the sight of his annoyance.

"ew now i'm definitely getting a new one. i'm not about to indirect kiss with jeno's cock."

you choke on your sip of beer, coughing and spluttering as you try and regain your breath. chenle laughs wickedly beside you. he pats your back until you've finally stopped coughing, your face even more flushed than before.

"you so deserved that one," he teases, unable to contain his amusement. you glare at him, pushing him away.

"you okay, y/n?" mark asks, walking up to you guys.

you nod, still trying to catch your breath. "yeah, i'm good. just swallowed wrong," you cough out.

"that's what she said." chenle says, causing you roll your eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at the corner of your mouth.

mark looks between you and chenle. "just don't let him corrupt you, okay?" he jokes.

"you should be telling her not to corrupt me. she isn't as innocent as you think," chenle tells him.

you feign offense, placing your hand against your chest. "how dare you! i've never done anything wrong in my entire life." mark laughs at your dramatic display, clearly not believing a word you say.

"we all know that's a lie," chenle chimes in. "remember that time you-"

you shove your hand over his mouth to stop him from continuing. "don't finish that sentence."

chenle licks the palm of your hand and you yank your hand back, wiping it furiously on your skirt. "you're disgusting."

"you two are interesting," mark says, shaking his head before walking away.

as soon as he's out of earshot, you look over at chenle. "i jerked jeno off with that hand."

chenle's face turns to pure disgust in a matter of seconds. "i think i'm going to be sick." he tells you, and you laugh as he gets up and runs away, wiping his tongue on his sleeve.

chapter one | chapter three

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[dollwrites]

𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 — 𝐨𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐢 𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!consort!reader, pillow humping, voyeurism, overstim, dub con for like a minute, fingering, forced orgasm, degradation, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading <3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ consensual by landon tewers

“Again.”

you suck in a breath through your teeth, and stifle your own sound of incredulousness— another one? gripping the pillow in both hands and digging your knees in, straddling the fluff, you grind your bare core into it. you’d already soaked through, and your body was quivering, thighs wanting to push the pillow from between them and snap closed. you’d already cum so many times. “Are you sure?” you whisper, breathless, and roll your hips slow to ease back into the stimulation. leaning back, you put your naked figure on display for him to watch as you squirm. your eyelids are heavy, but your eyes flicker to him. “You don’t want me to do anything for you?”

Obanai was perched on a chair in the darkened corner, shadows dancing over his partially concealed features, but his eyes twinkle as he watches you. you couldn’t even be sure he was enjoying the show you were working hard to put on— he hadn’t shifted once, and his draping sleeves didn’t shift as if he were palming some secret erection. he was just staring. silently. and when you’d cum, you’d moan his name, roll your eyes and arch your back, and his only response would be one word. “Again.” he hadn’t even bothered to touch you, keeping his distance since he’d first crept inside.

“I’ll do anything for you,” you purr, batting your lashes, hoping that you could escape this looping orgasm hell by getting him off, instead. “Use my hands? They’re very soft.” you bite your lip, humming soft when your throbbing clit rubs against the damp fabric, “I could suck your cock. Make you cum with a single flick of my tong—“

“No.”

your lips purse, but you didn’t want to look too disappointed. Obanai hadn’t been one to visit you, not like the others did, and you started to feel like maybe he didn’t like you. that’s why you’d been overwhelmed with excitement to see his form darken the doorway of your bedroom, but an hour later and all he’s done was stare, seemingly unblinking, from the shadows as you fucked a pillow.

“Nothing?” you shift, trying to rub yourself slower, limit the amount of friction. “You can have me however you want, you know.” truth be told, you wanted to hold back from another climax, unsure if your body could handle another. you couldn’t force yourself through another one, but he was glaring at you.

“You’re stalling.” he mutters. “I said I want you to cum again.”

you grip the pillow tighter, rocking your hips a little faster, but still careening to avoid the rasping of your sensitive clit into the plush. “I… I’ve cum three times already.” you counter. you’d given up trying to hide how careful you were being. “I don’t know if I can—“

he stood up.

he stood up and your breath caught in your throat. your hips stutter, because he’s across the room in the blink of an eye, standing before you, and you’re suddenly speechless. regardless of his stature, Obanai was intimidating. his gaze was impossible to read, and he was so damn quiet. you hadn’t had a chance to spend any kind of time to get to know what he liked or what he disliked, but you could tell by the chilled glare he was giving you now that he didn’t like being talked back to.

“I— I’m sorry…” you whisper. you had no idea what he was capable of. you were suddenly nervous to be alone in this dark, quiet room with him.

would he hurt you?

your heart was pounding against your rib cage so violently it hurt, and you were certain he heard it, too. without a word, his arm outstretches, stuffing his hand between the pillow and your sex. you yelp in surprise when he cups it. his touch isn’t as rough as some of the others, and his slender fingers seek your clit, gliding over it like twin serpents until your eyes are rolling back and you’re writhing in his palm. “O—Obanai—“

“If you won’t give me another willingly,” he murmurs, his other hand clamping down on your chin and angling your face up towards him. your lids flutter, lips slack, “I’ll take it from you.” his eyes are zeroed in on you as his first two fingers, now slick, hook inside, and his thumb presses hard on your button. you moan, thighs trembling and clamping against his forearm, “You’re going to let me rip it out of you. And however many I want after that. If I want to see you cum again and again, so you’re too exhausted to do a thing but lay there and take it by the time the sun comes up, you’ll just have to endure it. I can have you how I want, isn’t that what you said?”

you nod, obedient, with one hand grasping his wrist. you didn’t try to pry it from your cunt, not that you thought that you could if you wanted to, but the grip was keeping you grounded. “Yes…” you groan, all your nerves screaming as your stomach knots up, “fuck, yes…”

those lithe digits spread inside you, stretching against your fervent clenching, and you dig your nails into his wrist. “That’s how I want you.” his voice is husky and heavy with lust, and for the first time tonight you can hear it. his other thumb runs over your bottom lip, and you’re all too quick to take it into your mouth, grazing it with your teeth, forcing your eyes back open to look up at him, though you were wincing as you teeter on the edge of the most powerful climax thus far. he doesn’t pull it from you, or push it deeper into your mouth, instead allowing you to use it as you pleased, as he did with your core. “So sensitive you can’t even keep your eyes open, shaking and needy and positively pathetic. Cumming as many times as I decide.” you nod, again, vision blurry as he pumps his fingers knuckle deep. it felt like he was tickling the knots that were bunching up inside you, teasing them to force an unraveling.

“T—take it, then,” you beg, words slurred as you nibble on his thumb, “It’s yours… please, please!”

it certainly wasn’t your proudest moment, crying out for him as you tremble and come utterly undone, eyes rolled back and tongue lazing out to taste his digit. your walls clench his fingers, spasming so erratically that you weren’t even sure if he’d be able to withdraw them until the waves of convulsions stopped. you aren’t even able to stay sitting upright, and collapse forward, slumping with your face buried in his midsection. your other hand grips his clothes, babbling your slurred gratitude.

Obanai doesn’t move back to avoid your clinging, nor does he slow down— driving his fingers home at the same pace and forcing you to ride out the euphoria until you’re wrecked with aftershocks and panting.

you’ve no doubt drooled over his uniform when he finally pries his thumb from between your teeth and pushes you back. you sit back on your bum, the absence of his fingers leaving your weeping core feeling sickeningly empty. “Open your mouth.” you do so without so much as opening your eyes, and you taste yourself when he shoves his fingers inside. “Are you too sensitive to give me another?”

you nod, sucking each digit clean. thank goodness, you thought. he’s going to give you a break. maybe you impressed him.

“Good. Lie on your back and spread your legs,” he orders and your stomach does a flip realizing that he’s nowhere near done with you, “I want to fuck another one out of your tender cunt.”

[cressidagrey]

The Witching Hour - Chapter 3 - Feyre

Summary: 

5 Times members of the Inner Circle get absolutely terrified by Azriel's...whatever she is, and 1 (of many) times Azriel thinks that his witch was the best thing that ever happened to him.

Warnings: 

Seeing the future, mention of nightmares, implied ritual sacrifice?, mentioned stabbing, implied assassination, mention of psychological torture

(super pretty dividers by @cafekitsune)

Her sister's honeymoon phase after her mating ceremony seemed to have come to a...stop. Or maybe it had crashed and gone up in flames.

But then the tension between seemingly every member of their family seemed to be rampant. Nesta was pissed off at Cassian, Cassian at Azriel, Azriel at Rhys.

It was like watching a storm cloud roll in and darken the sky - the tension was thick and heavy, oppressive even.

Feyre had tried to talk to Rhys about it, but he dismissed her concerns with a vague response about "stubbornness" and "new bond adjustments."

But Feyre knew something was awry. Nesta and Cassian seemed to be avoiding each other like the plague, exchanging terse words whenever they had to interact.

Azriel was unusually quiet, his eyes scanning the room with a wariness that spoke of some deep-seated worry.

And Rhys...well, he was a mask of composure, his true feelings hidden beneath a veneer of politeness.

So Feyre had pulled out big weapons: taking her sister book shopping. Rhys had Nyx for the day... Elain was uninterested and had holed up to garden... visions were plaguing her again.

And so Feyre found herself leading Nesta through the winding streets of the city, determined to coax her sister out of her shell and get her to talk. But as they walked, Feyre noticed just how out-of-sorts Nesta seemed, her eyes distant and her step almost mechanical.

"Nesta," Feyre began tentatively, her voice breaking the silence between them. "Are you...okay?"

Nesta's eyes flicked to hers, and for a moment an expression of intense pain crossed her face. But just as quickly as it came, it was gone, and Nesta had schooled her features back into a stoic mask.

"I'm fine," she said, her voice cool and measured. "Just a bit tired, that's all."

Feyre saw right through the lie, but she knew pressing would only backfire. She didn't want to push Nesta into shutting her out even more. Instead, she tried a different tactic.

"You've been...different lately," Feyre said softly. "Quiet. Distant. And I know something's been going on with you. Cassian's been the same way."

Nesta stiffened at the mention of her mate, her jaw clenching.

"Cassian...Cassian is a fucking idiot," she bit out.

Feyre's eyes widened at Nesta's response. She had expected tension, but not outright anger. She had seen them fight before, often in a somewhat humorous way, but this...this was different. This anger was deep, steeped in pain.

"What happened?" Feyre asked, her voice gentle.

"What happened?" Nesta repeated, a bitter laugh escaping her lips. "What happened? Cassian - that fool of a male - happened. He's...he's impossible to deal with. Stubborn, arrogant, and so damn overprotective it's suffocating."

Feyre could only blink, startled by the venom in Nesta's words. "Overprotective? Isn't that a good thing? He cares about you, Nesta. Wants to keep you safe. That's his job."

"He's trying to protect me from Azriel!"

Feyre was taken aback by this admission. "Azriel? Why on earth...

She paused, her mind trying to process this new information. "What's he trying to protect you from?"

Nesta let out a frustrated huff, her eyes burning with emotion. "Azriel found a solution to my nightmares. Cassian doesn’t like it."

"Found a solution?" Feyre asked, her curiosity piqued."And Cassian didn't like it?"

Nesta let out a bitter bark of laughter. "He didn't just not like it, he downright hates it. And me for agreeing to it."

"And...what is this solution?" Feyre prodded, still trying to grasp the situation.

Nesta's expression hardened even more, her gaze turning cold. "A dreamcatcher spell," she gritted out.

Feyre felt a chill run down her spine. "A dreamcatcher spell?" she repeated.

"Yes, a damn dreamcatcher spell," Nesta hissed, her anger flaring again. "And Cassian refuses to understand that it's helping. He's too blinded by his stupid protective instincts to see that it's actually working."

"But..how is it helping?" Feyre asked, her mind swirling with questions.

Nesta's face softened, a hint of vulnerability showing through. "It's...quiet. It's peaceful. For the first time since the war, I'm not drowning in nightmares and reliving memories every time I close my eyes," she confessed.

Feyre's heart ached at her sister's words. She knew the anguish those nightmares caused, the terror and pain that they brought. To see Nesta finally find some relief from them..it was a miracle. But the divide between her sister and her mate...that was concerning.

"And Cassian...?" Feyre asked tentatively.

Nesta's face contorted into a scowl. "He's being a pigheaded fool, as usual," she grumbled. "He's convinced the spell is doing more harm than good, that it's somehow going to hurt me or control me."

"Did Azriel cast the spell?" Feyre wondered, brows furrowing.

"No," Nesta said, her voice dripping with annoyance, "Cate did it."

"Who's Cate?" Feyre asked, dumbstruck.

"Cate is...a friend of Azriel's," Nesta explained vaguely, her tone becoming guarded.

Feyre frowned, sensing there was more to the story. "A friend? Do I even know her?"

"I don't think you do," Nesta said evasively.

Feyre's suspicion grew. "Then how come you do?"

Nesta let out a heavy sigh, clearly reluctant to answer.

"Azriel brought me to her, for the spell. She's a witch. Cassian hates her for some reason. Apparently, she stabbed him once and he still holds a grudge," she added, her voice hard.

Feyre's eyes widened, her mind reeling at the thought of a witch powerful enough to piss off Cassian. And to know Azriel personally enough for him to take Nesta to her for a spell...

"And this witch...she was able to...?" Feyre trailed off, her question unfinished.

"To make the nightmares stop?" Nesta said, a hint of relief in her voice, "Yes. She did what everyone else failed to do. She gave me a bloody break."

Feyre felt a pang of guilt at that. She too had tried to help, but nothing had worked. And now, this mysterious witch had come in and done what all of Feyre's attempts had failed to do.

But why? She mused, her mind working at a frantic pace. Why would this witch help?

Feyre looked at her sister, taking in the less tense lines of her face, the less haunted look in her eyes. Whatever the reasons, this Cate had clearly helped. Helped in a way none of them could. And for that, Feyre was begrudgingly grateful.

"You don't..." Feyre began cautiously, treading lightly, "You don't think she's doing it for a price, do you?"

Nesta snorted. "I think the price is Azriel's presence in her bed," she said drily. "The two of them have an… arrangement."

Feyre's eyebrows shot up. She had expected many things, but this...this was not exactly among them.

"An arrangement..?" she repeated weakly.

Nesta gave her a sardonic look. "You know, the kind where two people agree to please each other without any strings attached?"

"I know what an arrangement is," Feyre muttered, feeling her cheeks heat up. It had been no difference then what she and Isaac had done. 

It was just… "But...Azriel and a witch. Really?"

Nesta shrugged. "I don't know the details. Apparently, they have a history. All I know is that they have some kind of...open agreement."

Feyre's mind struggled to process this information. Azriel, her normally stoic and reserved friend, involved in a sexual relationship with a witch. And by the sounds of it, a witch that was both powerful and dangerous enough to scare Cassian.

"And…you're okay with this?" Feyre finally asked, her voice tinged with bemusement.

"Why wouldn't I be?" Nesta retorted, crossing her arms over her chest. “It’s none of my business who Azriel sleeps with They're both consenting adults. They're not hurting anyone. Why would I care?”

Feyre felt her cheeks redden a little more at her sister's bluntness.

"What about Elain?" Feyre wondered. "I thought her and Azriel..."

"You didn't warn him off?" Nesta asked surprised.

Feyre could just stare at her.

"I thought you or Rhys warned Azriel off her, because of Lucien," Nesta clarified.

"Wait," Feyre's mind was still playing catch-up. "You thought...we warned Azriel off dating Elain because of Lucien?"

Nesta rolled her eyes. "Well, yes. I mean, Lucien is her mate. And a High Lord’s Son. I thought you didn't want the political ramifications of that fallout." 

Feyre had to bite back a scoff. She found it ironic - and mildly annoying - that her sister would assume she would do something like that. 

"No, in case you were wondering," she said, trying to keep her irritation in check. "I did not warn Azriel off." 

Nesta shrugged. "Elain…Elain probably needs to heal on her own before she even wants another male again anyway," Nesta said quietly. "Her visions are...rampant again."

Feyre's heart ached at the mention of Elain. She knew her sister had been struggling silently, suffering in ways Feyre could only imagine.

"That witch doesn't happen to have a solution for that either, doesn't she?" Feyre asked sarcastically. 

"Feyre, you are a genius," Nesta breathed, grasping her arm and dragging her down the street, almost stumbling in shock. 

"What? Where are we going?" Feyre asked, confusion lacing her tone.

"To see Cate," Nesta said, determination in her voice. "We are going to ask her if she can help Elain. Maybe she can... I don't know, do some other kind of spell."

Feyre couldn't help but feel a glimmer of hope. If this witch could help Nesta, then perhaps she could help Elain

"You're sure this Cate would be willing to help?" Feyre asked, her voice hesitant.

Nesta's eyes flashed with determination. "If she can help Elain...she better be willing. Come on."

Feyre swallowed her trepidation and allowed herself to be pulled along. Elain was suffering, just as Nesta had been. If there was even a chance this witch could help... well, they had to try.

They walked in silence, Nesta leading the way. Feyre felt a mix of anticipation and unease. This Cate was evidently powerful, but the little knowledge she had of her was unsettling. A witch who had stabbed Cassian… But the hope of helping Elain overshadowed her doubts. If this strange, mysterious witch could offer any assistance, she would gladly take it. 

They finally reached their destination. Feyre's breath hitched as she took in the unassuming townhouse. It looked harmless enough, its windows shuttered, but Feyre could feel the power surrounding it, tingling against her skin, almost sentient.

Nesta didn't seem phased, marching up to the door and knocking firmly.

A moment of silence, followed by footsteps approaching the door. Feyre held her breath, bracing herself.

The door opened. A massive black jaguar stared at them,  its golden eyes fixed upon them. It had apparently opened the door. 

Feyre almost let out a scream, a startled gasp escaping her lips. Nesta, unfazed, spoke up, her voice firm. "We're here to see Cate." The jaguar's eyes narrowed slightly, as if assessing them. It tilted its head to the side, almost as if in question. And then, as if understanding their words, it let out a deep, rumbling purr.

And with a final glance at them, the jaguar turned, vanishing into the townhouse.

“Thank you, Bella!” Nesta called after it, getting a lazy swipe of its tail in response. 

Feyre found herself staring after the vanished jaguar, her heart still racing from the shock.

Nesta, however, seemed perfectly calm, a small smirk playing on her lips. "That's Bella," she explained. "You'll get used to her...she likes playing with Azriel's shadows." 

Feyre blinked, trying to wrap her mind around the fact that a jaguar was friendly with Azriel's shadows, of all things. Nesta walked into the townhouse and Feyre followed along. 

It seemed empty. Obviously furnished expensively but…no traces of any fae…at least until they reached the living room. 

Of all the things Feyre had expected...it was not a blood-splattered naked female sitting on the floor, a crystal ball before her.

Feyre froze in the doorway, her eyes wide with shock.

The female, her skin pale as snow, was clearly in some sort of trance, her long red hair cascading down her bare back. But what caught Feyre's attention was the blood smeared all over her body, stark against her ivory skin.

For one crazed moment, she was reminded of Amarantha.

For just one moment, she was utterly terrified. 

But the red hair seemed to be the only similarity. 

And Amarantha had been ugly compared to this woman... compared to cascading ruby red hair and skin as white as freshly fallen snow...against full, round breast, the dip of her waist and the swell of her hips...she was gorgeous. 

Feyre's mind continued to whirl as she took in the image before her. The female's beauty was breathtaking, almost otherworldly, and yet the blood staining her skin somehow only served to enhance her appearance, adding a dark, almost feral undertone to her loveliness.

Feyre’s fingers itched to paint the scene before her…

Nesta stepped into the room, clearly not fazed by the scene. "Cate?" she called out.

And then suddenly magic sparked from the crystal ball and the female's gaze cleared, from near white to brilliant green. "Ah, Nesta and Feyre." Her voice was soft, melodic, and yet strangely commanding. "I've been waiting for you."

"You knew we were coming?" Feyre asked, finally finding her voice.

"Of course I knew," Cate replied, a sly smile playing on her lips. "I see many things."

Feyre's eyes flicked to the crystal ball in front of the female, a mixture of curiosity and unease in her gut. "You..see the future?" she asked. Was she a Seer like Elain?

Cate regarded her with a considering glance. "I see fragments. Possibilities. Many of them. How decisions impact them…and how it could be…" she said that with a near longing glance to her crystal ball, gently running a hand over it.

Feyre couldn't help but feel a tiny shiver run down her spine. The idea of fate in the hands of someone else...But this was not the reason they were here. She gathered her courage and spoke up. "We're here because..."

"You're here for Elain, aren't you?" Cate finished, her tone almost knowing.

"She's a seer like you," Nesta said but Cate hummed consideringly, making no move to cover herself...or wipe off the blood...wherever that had come from. 

Only now Feyre realised that it was smeared over her, not just splattered. Like the symbols drawn on her body, covering her, meant something…Feyre just didn’t know what. 

Feyre swallowed, trying to not let the naked female's lack of modesty distract her. "We were wondering if you could...help her." 

"Help her how?" Cate asked, tilting her head.

"She's been having...visions," Feyre admitted, her voice strained. "Unpleasant visions. And they've been…..affecting her."

Cate regarded them with an appraising glance. "Affecting her, how?"

"Nightmares, mostly," Nesta answered, a sharp note entering her voice. "She's been…..not coping well."

Cate's expression didn't change. "Is that all?"

Nesta bristled and Feyre had to place a hand on her arm to restrain her.

"What do you mean, 'is that all'?" Feyre asked, attempting a more reasonable tone.

Cate just shrugged, her eyes flickering to the crystal ball again. "Nightmares are not an issue. I can make them go away with a mere flick of my wrist."

Feyre felt a rush of relief. That was more than she had expected. "You can?"

Cate fixed her gaze on Feyre once more, a hint of challenge in her face. "| can. But as a Seer myself, the nightmares are not the problem."

Feyre's heart sank. "Then what is?" she asked quietly, dreading the answer.

Cate let out a sigh. "It's her visions," she said bluntly. "Powerful, uncontrolled visions. The kind that comes without warning and at the most inconvenient times...." Cate looked at her, a hint of pity in her gaze. "Elaine's power is trying to break through. And my best guess is that she's subconsciously resisting, refusing to let it out. She's untrained. It's not surprising.”

It was the last thing she wanted to hear. Elain and Nesta had gone through enough. They had all gone through enough. 

Didn’t they deserve something that was…

Finally, Feyre spoke up again, her voice small. "You said you could make the nightmares go away. Can you...do the same for the visions?" she asked, her voice pleading.

"No," Cate said evenly. Feyre's heart sank once more. "How would you like it if I amputated your sword hand without a reason? The visions aren't the problem. Her lack of training is."

Feyre couldn’t help but flinch at that metaphor. "So you're saying...there's nothing we can do?" Feyre asked shakingly. Elain was just supposed to live like this?!

Cate sighed again as if she had been expecting this."What I'm saying is, is that you can't give Elaine a potion and make the problem go away. It's not a disease, it's her power trying to express itself. And it will only persist until she learns how to control it,” she explained. 

Power trying to express itself. Elain would have to learn to control it...but how?! 

"How would she learn?" Feyre asked, desperation colouring her words.

"She needs a teacher," Cate said, her gaze flickering to the blood staining her skin. "Someone who can guide her."

For a moment, Feyre wanted to ask about the blood. But she pushed it aside, focusing on the more pressing matter.

"And who would be that teacher?"

"You have a few options," Cate responded, her tone nonchalant. "I can teach her. Or I can find someone else who can…that will probably take a year or two…there aren’t that many of us," Cate admitted drily. 

Feyre's breath caught in her throat. This woman, the blood staining her skin, her blatant disregard for nudity... she was powerful and dangerous, that much was obvious. 

But a year or two?! Elain should just live like this for another year or two?!

But then, for a female that was immortal and was probably…centuries old if not more, then what was a year or two? Nothing. 

Was it wise to allow Elain to be taught by someone like her though? Somebody that Cassian clearly didn’t trust?

Azriel and she seemed to have some form of agreement, but Feyre was weakly wondering if…Azriel was kept safe from her wrath because he was warming her bed. 

Feyre glanced over at Nesta, silently seeking her opinion.

Her sister's eyes were guarded but there was an undercurrent of trust in them.

"You..you would teach her?" Nesta said carefully. 

"I could,” Cate agreed with a careless shrug. “But I highly doubt that your mate would allow that, High Lady."

Feyre's heart jumped in her chest, dread filling her at the mere mention of Rhys. "What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.

"Rhysand wouldn't want me anywhere near your sister," Cate said with a grin. "'I am quite sure he would rip my heart out of my chest for even suggesting this."

She swallowed. 

Rhys was probably not gonna take the fact well that they had met her without telling him a word. But then he hadn't told her about the dangers of the pregnancy so feyre figured that he owed her one. 

"How do you know Rhysand?" she demanded instead. Did Rhys also hate her just like Cassian seemed to?

"Your mate and I have had...past interactions," Cate said carefully, a hint of amusement in her voice. "Let's just say he doesn't approve of my methods, which are...a touch different from his."

Feyre felt a pang of curiosity, mixed with a hint of dread. Rhys was a male with many secrets, and here was this female, sitting there casually and talking about them.

"And what exactly are these…methods?" Feyre asked, her voice guarded

"Oh, you know, things like manipulating dreams, altering memories, and the occasional bit of psychological torture," Cate replied casually as if discussing the weather. Feyre's blood ran cold. Psychological torture? 

"What do you mean, 'psychological torture'?" Feyre asked, her voice a mere whisper.

Cate just shrugged, her expression unbothered. "Oh, nothing much. Just making someone relive their worst nightmares over and over again, twisting someone's thoughts and desires until they're barely recognizable, playing with people's fears and insecurities..."

Feyre felt bile rise in her throat. Cate's words were so nonchalant as if she found discussing such acts normal. But it was horrifying, the thought of someone playing with their thoughts like that, twisting them like pieces of clay. Her mind immediately went to Rhys, as it always did.

Hadn't her mate been forced to do the same?

"I am also of the stab first, ask questions later, school of thought,” Cate tacked onto the end. 

Nesta snorted. "Is that what happened to Cassian?"

Cate let out a laugh at the comment. "Pretty much, yes. Your mate has a tendency to barge into other people's territories uninvited. I merely reminded him that it's generally a bad idea," she said easily. 

Feyre felt a small shiver run down her spine, realising how close to death her brother-in-law could have been. But there was also something nagging at her mind, some sort of confusion.

 Rhys didn't trust this female, that much was obvious. But Cate seemed to know Rhys well, had clearly encountered him before...and she wasn't in the least bit afraid of him...

"Why does Rhys have such a problem with you?" Feyre found herself asking, her voice almost reluctant.

"Ah, Rhysand is just like every other high lord," Cate said, her tone almost mocking. "He doesn't like people who don't fit into his neat, little worldview. I'm considered a 'wild card', something to be wary of. I'm not afraid to challenge him or do what l feel is necessary to get results. And I don't follow the traditional rules laid out by high lords and their courts."

Feyre found herself taken aback by the female's words.

Rhys, as arrogant and over-protective as he could be, was usually so tolerant of others, welcoming them to Velaris without a doubt. The fact that he had such an obvious grievance against this female was unexpected.

"What kind of results?" Feyre couldn't help but ask, morbidly curious.

Cate sighed. “With power like mine comes responsibility,” Cate replied, a sly smile playing on her lips. She was sidestepping the question, Feyre realised. "Or dealing with troublemakers and threats, like a certain Night Court general who decided to invade my home."

Feyre felt her heart skip a beat. Cassian had..invaded her territory?

"You stabbed him, didn't you?" Nesta chimed in, her voice almost bored.

Cate let out a bark of laughter. "Of course I stabbed him. He invaded my home. Did you expect me to offer him tea and biscuits?"

Feyre felt a mix of horror and fascination at the nonchalance in Cate's voice. Yes, Cassian had invaded her land, but the idea of someone casually and unapologetically stabbing another...And Rhys' vehement dislike of the female made a little more sense now.

"Have you..." Feyre began, her voice hesitant. "Have you...harmed anyone else from the Night Court?"

Cate's eyes glittered with a touch of mischief. "Oh, let's see. I've stabbed Cassian, threatened Mor with bodily harm, beat your mate into the dirt once and had a lovely chat with Azriel once or twice," she said, ticking each incident off on her fingers. "Does that answer your question?"

"Is that what you call what you and Azriel are doing?" Nesta asked drily.

Cate let out a bark of laughter, clearly amused by the question. "Oh, my encounters with Azriel are...complicated," she said, a sly smile playing on her lips. "We have a bit of a...history."

"What kind of history?" Feyre found herself asking, unable to quell her curiosity. Cate's smile widened, her eyes taking on a calculating gleam. "Oh, you wouldn't believe what Azriel and I have done together," she almost purred, her tone dropping to a suggestive purr.

Feyre felt a wave of heat rush through her. She had an idea of what the female was implying, but somehow she had a hard time imagining Azriel with someone so... unrestrained, as Cate seemed to be. Then again, what did she really know of her mate's shadowsinger?

"Is it something I want to know about?" Nesta drawled, her tone dry.

Cate raised her eyebrows, a slow smile spreading on her lips. "Oh, I'm sure you'd be absolutely scandalised if I told you what I do to your dear Azriel."

Feyre felt heat spreading to her cheeks, the mental imagery of Cate and Azriel together doing...anything...was stirring something deep within her. But she forcibly pushed the thought away, focusing on the matter at hand.

"We're getting off track," Feyre said firmly, her voice a bit more high-pitched than usual.

Cate arched an eyebrow, clearly recognising her discomposure. "Are you sure? I could tell you more about the things your shadowsinger and I get up to..."

Feyre could hear Nesta suppress a snort, clearly amused by her apparent discomfort. But she ignored her sister, fixing Cate with her most stern glare. "We're not here to discuss your. relationship with Azriel," she said, her voice a touch shaky.

"Suit yourself," Cate said with a shrug. "Although, I must say, Azriel is quite... adventurous, when given the proper motivation."

Feyre felt her cheeks heat up even further, and Nesta let out a snicker, clearly struggling to hold back laughter.

"Can we get back to the matter at hand?" Feyre snapped, her irritation growing by the second.

Cate chuckled, her smile widening. "Of course, High Lady. You were wanting to discuss the issue of your sister and her pesky visions, weren't you?"

Feyre took a deep breath, trying to calm the heat in her cheeks. "Yes," she said, her voice still a bit flustered. "How about you...come to lunch later this week?" 

Cate's smile turned cat-like, clearly enjoying her discomfort. "Lunch, hm? That could be arranged."

Nesta raised an eyebrow. "And we can...expect you to have more clothes on by then, I presume?"

Cate let out a bark of laughter. "Are you saying you don't appreciate the view?" she asked, gesturing to her unclothed body.

"I think I'll appreciate some food in my stomach more than your…assets," Nesta replied with a smirk.

Cate chuckled, clearly unbothered by the comment. "Fair enough. I'll bring a dress if that will soothe your delicate sensibilities."

Feyre almost snorted at the implication of 'delicate sensibilities ...Nesta was anything but delicate. 

And Feyre was quite sure she was going to regret this lunch.

[coryosmin]

nsfw | mdni | fem!reader

imagine a horny coryo who has been thinking about you all day while you guys were attending your classes. he couldn’t help but think about last week when he had come over and fucked you so good into your mattress, causing you to squirt all over his big cock. so by the time lunch time rolls around, he’s so hard and just can’t help himself when he sees you in the hallway and just pulls you into the janitor’s closet with a hand on your mouth and your back pressed against his front.

“it’s just me,” he whispered into your ear, feeling how tense you were from his manhandling.

you visibly relax in his touch. you were about to ask what he was doing but you felt the obvious bulge pressing against your ass as coryo brought a hand to your chest, massaging your boob through your shirt. he removed the hand from your mouth, gripping your hip to press himself closer to you. “need to fuck you so bad, baby,” he whispered. “been so hard thinking about last week.”

you couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your lips. “coryo, we’re in school,” you replied, leaning your back against him.

“mmm,” he responded, kissing your neck. “just need to be inside of you. will be so quick.”

you needed him inside of you too. you’ve been craving his cock all week, wanting to just be filled by him again. so you sigh, nodding your head. “gotta be quick though, coryo,” you murmured, pressing yourself against his bulge.

“such a good girl for me,” he murmured, moving his hands to tug down your uniform skirt and pants to around your ankles before moving to unzip his and tug them down enough to let his cock breathe. he let out a small groan of relief. he gripped his cock, jerking it a few times before pushing your panties to the side and lining himself up to your entrance. “wish i could prep you, baby. am sorry if this hurts.” he said, kiss your neck.

you simply let out a small moan in response, feeling his cock against your slit. “it’s okay, coryo,” you said, pushing yourself against him so that he can enter you. “been thinking about you so much too. just want you inside me.” you whispered.

coriolanus sucked on your pulse point, easing his cock inside of you. of course it stretched you out. he was big so it hurt a bit. but you also just really needed to get fucked so it was absolutely worth it. the both of you let out tiny moans before realizing where you were. coryo stayed still for a moment, allowing you time to adjust.

“you can move,” you said breathlessly.

and so coriolanus moved hard and fast, causing you to put your hand to your mouth to avoid making the obscene noises you usually make. coryo’s cock was just so big and always fucked you so deep. “so wet and tight, baby,” he murmured into your ear. “been thinking about this all week, oh my god.” coryo’s head was resting on your shoulder as he thrusted into your pussy, his left arm was wrapped around you while his right hand gripped your hip.

you let out a moan, muffled by your hand. you didn’t wanna try and say anything, knowing you would be too loud. and getting caught sounded awful right now. you closed your eyes in pleasure as coryo continued his unrelenting pace. coryo let out a whimper against your skin, bringing his right hand down to your clit and rubbing the nub, making you let out another muffled moan. “fuck, already so close baby. cum for me, yeah?” he said, his lips moving to your ear. “wanna feel you come undone on my cock.”

and with the added pleasure plus coryo’s words, you came hard and very quickly on coryo’s cock, clenching your thighs together. luckily, coryo’s arm was wrapped around you because otherwise you would’ve fallen from the intensity of the orgasm. coryo followed suit, cumming inside of you with a muffled whimper.

and when you both finished, you got yourselves dressed and situation. coryo turned you around to face him and gave you a cheeky grin. “been needing that, baby,” he said, pressing a kiss to your lips.

you smiled, kissing coryo. “maybe you can come over after classes today? my parents won’t be home.”

“sounds like an excellent idea.”

[incculum]

Ooh could I request a jake sully x top male reader smut? He's been misbehaving lately but instead of punishing him reader is very gentle. Sir kink and overstim please!

Jake Sully.

top male reader

sir k. | overstimulation | praise | guided handjob | brief mention of fingering | anal | brief bite

a/n: feel like I haven't written in ages but I missed Jake fics. sorry I took so long to write this + that it's short

Jake's been fucking with you, and you know it. He's been tugging at your strings of patience and waiting for them to snap. And they do, when you give him a final chance to redeem himself and he purposely fucks it up. But they don't snap in the way he expected.

He chose to ignore you today, and you hoped he'd finally listen when his own safety was at stake. But he chose to put your irritation above all else and your shout of warning went in one ear and out the other.

You don't hide your disapproving stare when Jake sits up and presses a hand against his stinging chest. You're quiet when he meekly looks up at you, waiting for a heated response to come from you not because of the minor, easily avoidable injury (had he just listened to you), but because of his insistent misbehaviour.

But you stay silent, closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath. When you open them again and exhale, Jake is still looking at you. A cocky smile takes over his face when you don't speak and you know you have to do something about it.

Despite his pride, he still follows like a lost puppy when you tug on his wrist and softly push him into your shared tent.

-

"Touch yourself, love." Your words break the silence and Jake's tense staring session, burning holes into the wall in front of him.

Jake turns his head to the side and looks at you from the corner of his eye, suddenly losing all of his previous attitude, fingers twitching against his thighs. You stay standing behind him and he feels so unbelievably exposed. "I.."

"You heard me," your tone is a stark contrast to your words – far gentler and more adoring than Jake expected. His shoulders jump when your hands glide up his back and your fingers rest on his shoulders, applying a soft pressure. But his arms stay motionless at his sides and you sigh softly.

Your fingertips leave behind goosebumps when you gently run them over his shoulders, down his arms, and past his wrists. You cage yourself around Jake with your body, one hand holding his waist and the other cupping the back of his hand in your palm. The contact of your chest against his back makes his shoulders tense but you pay it no mind and force his hand to move under yours.

His warm palm makes contact with his hard, already weeping dick from under his loincloth and you smile to yourself when a pleasured sigh leaves him. Your lips press against the sensitive spot between his neck and shoulders and your hand speeds up. Jake groans under his breath and you can feel his pre-come seeping through his fist and pooling in your palm.

His jaw tenses, his breath heavies, and you just watch over his shoulder, setting an unrelenting pace with your arm, "feel good?" Your words are a whisper against his neck and his pulse beats under your lips.

"Mhm.."

"Use your words, love," your other hand slowly runs up the expanse of his stomach and up to his collarbones before your fingers gently trail back down again over his heaving chest.

"Yeah, f-feels good.." a gentle bite into his sensitive flesh has him gasping out, "feels really good, sir."

Your tongue runs over the faint bite marking his blue skin, "there you go."

You don't stop when Jake's hips stutter and shift in your hold and he whispers that he's close, expecting you to pull your hand away at any moment and rip him from his high. But you don't. A sob-like cry nearly escapes him when you keep going despite the come dripping down your knuckles.

Only when his knees threaten to buckle under his weight do you let him breathe. You hold him in your arms and let him kneel down on the leaf-covered floor, giving him a few short moments to settle and wiping your hand with a cloth.

His back stays pressed against your chest and your hands find his front again, fingers painting ghostly patterns over his stomach and chest, "you okay?"

Jake's hum of confirmation makes you smile. You slip a hand between your bodies and gently press it against his back encouragingly, between his shoulder blades, "on your hands and knees, then, love."

You're still gentle when your oiled fingers slip into him, cupping his hip with your other hand and rubbing circles into his skin with your thumb. Your touches never cease in their softness and care seeps through every movement, even when you push the tip of your cock past Jake's stretched rim and chants of your name and 'sir' leave him in gasps.

When your cock bumps against his prostate and sinks deeper into his guts, Jake shudders and his hips buck. Your hand slips from his waist to his cock, languidly stroking him. Your dick forces the air out of his lungs with every shift of your hips, no matter how small, and Jake can already feel his mind slipping away.

A particularly hard thrust knocks him down onto his elbows and you smile. It doesn't take long for him to come again when your hand doesn't leave his dick, only speeding up. He claws at everything in reach and a near-cry breaks past his lips when your hips don't stop.

"God, please," Jake manages to groan out through his noises.

You pause and your hand moves back to his waist, "want me to stop?" He doesn't answer.

"Then you can keep going," you tell him and an even softer "can you do that for me?" has Jake nodding.

"..Yes, sir."

"Good," you lean down to kiss along the light freckles that decorate his shoulders and push him until his cheek presses against the floor. Your hands slide under his hips and you hold his lower half up. Jake's gasp into his arm when your cock nudges his overstimulated prostate again makes you smile.

[fayesia]

Day 6 - edging

"Tongue twister" - Aaron Hotchner x reader

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ warnings - cunnilingus, fingering, edging, size difference, dom!Hotch

ִֶָ𓂃˖ ִֶָ✰࿐ wc - 846

Aaron's lips crashed against yours, a flurry of clothes being thrown to the ground while both of you stumbled over to the couch. Pushing you down, Aaron kneeled onto the ground in front of you. You felt a hitch in your breath when you realised what was happening. Positioning you, Aaron's hands were large against the expanse of your thighs when he spread your legs apart.

"You okay?"

His gentle whisper soothed you, but at your affirmative response of 'yes' followed by a smug smirk from him you were fucked.

Literally.

Running his fingers from your knee down to your inner thighs you knew he could see the way your pussy got wetter. Droplets of your sweet honey soaking between your thighs, but he was not a bee giving in, rather he avoided that area of you completely.

Much to your annoyance as you huffed out and moved your hips to urge him but Hotch, as usual, took control and firmly stilled your hips with his strong hands. Keeping you in place he lowered his head to pepper your thighs with kisses, soft suckles that soon transitioned into nibbled, and then small bites that had you twitching in Aaron's hands. Looking down, you both made direct eye contact as he licked a line up your thigh gathering your dripping juices into his mouth and relishing in the taste.

"Please~ no more teasing"

"Hmm"

Ignoring your whines of need, Aaron continued to explore you, now edging closer to your folds and licking at the wet skin between your thighs and labia. Your hands grabbed the fabric of the couch waiting for the torture to end. But rather than loosen your grip, your fist only clenched tighter when Aaron's mouth unexpectedly came in contact with your pussy.

"F-fuckkkk"

The curse word transformed into a stretched out moan as Aaron's tongue traced your crevices and his lips wrapped around your sensitive pearl. The ferocity of his movements was a complete opposite to his gentle prods before. Locking eyes with him once more, your back arched uncontrollably as he prodded your hole with his tongue, the wet muscle squeezing its way inside you.

Something he had never tried before that rose sensations you were not used to. His large arms held your legs in place as they contradicted his harsh mouth actions with gentle stroking to your thighs. You stared at his concentrated face, trying to make you come as more moans continuously escaped you. Your breathing picking up pace in a rushed tandem before they fall flat with a heavy groan leaving you.

"What the fuck Aaron I was just about to come why would you stop"

His words followed a harsh slap brought against your thigh, too close to your pussy, unexpectedly making you clench around nothing.

"I'll do it more if you keep up with that smart mouth, is that what you want"

"No"

"Exactly. So be a good girl and take what I fucking give you"

His order was punctuated by another slap, this one even close to your pussy that his fingers just brushed the edge of your core. The slap still making a resounding noise from the liquids escaping you. He kept using his mouth on you remembering the talk you had about how much you enjoyed your first experience of oral with Aaron.

Except he did it again. Just when you were about to come, back already arching and ready to grab onto Hotchs hair, when he moved away from you.

"Ngnh pleaseee Aaron let me come please"

"Hm fine have you learnt your lesson"

"Ye..yes won't do it again"

To be fair, the prank was orchestrated by both you and Reid, but of course, only you were punished in this manner. The look on Hotchs face when the pen cap splashed into his coffee from all the way across the Bullpen was so so worth it. Especially the laughs that followed from the rest of the team who had seen the two of you come up with ideas to tweak the physics in order to make the cap project further.

You wouldn't do it again though, not after you feel Hotchs tongue span over your pussy and his teeth graze against your sensitive clit, your body begging for climax. His hands draw up pushing your legs closer to your chest as his fingers pinch your nipples. The added friction mixed with his mouth on you is that little bit you needed to come. The coil inside you snapping finally after far too long, your body writhing but held in place by Hotch as he keeps licking. Only giving in when you push away at his face, mewling at the overstimulation on his tongue against your clit making you twitch and writhe.

The two of you panting out from the brief "exercise" but Hotch knew the message had made it across to your dumbed out brain and wasn't expecting any more pranks. Unless you preferred not being able to sit down from a sore ass or walk from getting dicked down by him.

Kinktober Masterlist