#and that part of him did it in an attempt to push them away

[puckinghischier]

Just sitting here thinking about how Jack would usually fuck you nice and slow, praising you the entire time and putting your pleasure before his, but one night after a really tough loss where nothing went right for him and the team, he just loses it and immediately comes home to let out his frustrations on you. Manhandling you like a rag doll, spitting on you, yanking on your hair as hard as he can, and choking you until you see stars and you'd be loving every second of this version of Jack and he'd pick up on that, calling you degrading names and mocking you for being such a dirty fucking slut that he never knew about you

WARNING!: degradation, name calling, choking

the change of pace was surprising to you, but you’d be lying if you said it didn’t unleash a new preference of yours. the commanding, harsh, and derogatory nature of the entire night is something you never expected from him, but damn if there wasn’t a part of you eating it up.

from the second he got home you knew something was off. he slammed the door, threw his bag against the wall and stomped right over to you, wordlessly picking you up and carrying you to the shared bedroom. he threw you onto the bed, the large bounce you did causing your heart rate to spike.

“jack, honey, what’s going on? i don’t-“

“shut up. don’t fucking talk to me,” he interrupts you, your mouth instantly snapping shut. the look in his eyes was like nothing you had ever seen before — wild and dark.

he starts removing his clothes, standing naked in front of you before you could even blink. not knowing what to do, you start removing your sweatshirt, slowly bringing the thick material up and over your head. jack stood watching you, an expectant look on his face.

“god, can you go any fucking slower? hurry up. off. all of it, off,” he spits out as you start to grab your t-shirt, removing the fabric from your goose bump ridden body.

“for the love of god, are you fucking helpless or something? i said hurry up,” jack raises his voice, reaching down to grip your ankles, pulling you towards him harshly. once you’re sitting at the end of the bed, he grabs your shoulders, forcing you to sit up. he rips the shirt the rest of the way off of your body, throwing it across the room.

he doesn’t even attempt to unclasp the bra you hadn’t taken off from running errands earlier. instead, he tugs the material so harshly you can feel the piercing sting on your sensitive skin, feeling the plastic clasps snap apart, rendering the undergarment useless as it falls from your chest.

a gasp falls from your mouth, but it’s lost in the grunt he lets out as he shoves your shoulders back down onto the bed, gripping the waist band of your leggings as he tugs them down — along with your underwear — in a singular movement.

“now, was that so fucking hard?” he growls, pushing your ankles back up onto the bed, moving you away from the edge as he crawls onto the mattress with you.

you’re surprised at yourself, because not once during the entire interaction did you wish jack was his usual, soft and caring self. instead, you found every single harsh word and rough action traveling straight to your core. an unfamiliar warmth of arousal now stirring in your stomach as you watch him crawl towards you.

“up, on all fours, ass towards me,” he commands you, not waiting even a millisecond before grabbing your body and placing you into position himself. he starts caressing your ass, taking the soft flesh into his hands and kneading handfuls. “don’t even get it. don’t even know all the shit that happened tonight, do you?” he talks, pinching and squeezing your skin even tighter.

“tell me, maybe i can-“ you start to squeak out, but a harsh smack to your ass stops you. you involuntarily let out a sharp squeal, not expecting the action.

“when i say don’t fucking talk to me, it means don’t fucking talk to me,” jack rubs soothing circle around the red skin. “you don’t know what went on tonight. what coach said in the locker room after the game. what an embarrassment the whole team was tonight. the way the refs let us get our asses kicked all night long. so there’s nothing you can say that’ll make me feel better, you understand?”

you nod, looking back at him over your shoulder, surprising yourself when you jut your ass out further towards him, all but asking for another smack. he smirks, gladly granting your request.

he raises his hand, bringing it down even harder than he had the first time, your whole body jolting forward at the impact. your yelp sounded almost like pleasure this time, your brain going in a million different directions.

“now this? this makes me feel better. this makes me feel in control again. because i am, aren’t i? i’m in control right now. because you’re just my own personal slut, here to use as i see fit,” his voice dropped a few octaves, gravelly and thick.

before you can even fully register his words, a moan slips past your lips. you feel yourself clenching around nothing, your cunt slick with desire at whatever this new persona is coming from him.

he slides a hand down towards your entrance, interested at how turned on you seem to be by all of this. when his long, slender finger swirls around the still clenching hole, he chuckles, amused at your current state.

“you like this new side, huh? my sweet, innocent girl likes being called a slut and treated like some whore i picked up off the street, doesn’t she?” it’s more of a statement than a question. another clench of your pussy answers his question, his finger nearly getting sucked right into your sex.

“too bad this isn’t about you, isn’t it?” he clicks his tongue against his teeth, shaking his head at you, even though you can’t see him. “tonight is about me. making me feel better. in fact….” he trails off, bringing his cold fingers up to start attacking your clit, rubbing so ferociously your arms holding you up nearly give out from the friction. “…you can’t come at all tonight,” his fingers suddenly drop, your labored breaths stopping altogether as his words register.

your head whips around to glare at him, but the second you have him in your sights, you feel his cock slam into you without warning. your body lurches forward so much your nose nearly smacks into the head board.

jack pulls out almost immediately, slamming back into you with quick, full thrusts. he grabs your hips, pulling them back with each movement to meet his thrusts.

he can’t see your face, but your mouth is hung wide open in a silent scream, not being able to even think about anything but how you swear you can feel him in your stomach.

you finally let out a whimper at a particularly deep thrust, feeling one of his hands leave your hip to grab a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. he keeps easing your head back, neck fully extended, so much so you’re now able to see his face hovering above you.

“can’t believe you’re this cock drunk already. barely even started, baby. not been a peep out of you, has there?” you want to shake your head, say something, moan, anything. but the angle of your neck prevents any of that, only allowing you to look at him with your wide, rolling eyes.

he can feel the familiar flutter of your walls, signaling your impending release. he releases your hair, but so abruptly that your face flies forward like a rubber band has snapped, chin smacking against your chest.

he pulls out, leaving you a whining, pathetic mess. he takes his arms and flips you over so you’re now on your back. taking one of your legs, he extends it up and rests your ankle on his shoulder. he stands on his knees in front of you, looking at you with anger and annoyance.

“told you you’re not coming tonight. it’s about me, not you. it’s always about you, you greedy whore. you can’t just let me have this one night, huh?” he literally spits at you. the silky string of saliva leaves his mouth, its trajectory landing right on your stomach, mixing with the sweat there. he watches the rapid rise and fall of your chest, noting the stiff nature of your nipples.

as if he’s in a trance, he brings a hand up fully slapping one breast, watching it fly over and smack the other. then repeating the action with the opposite breast.

you jolt again, whining out a high pitched moan at the feeling of your heavy tits being smacked around. he smirks down at you, repeating the action a few times, each smack harder than the previous.

once he decides he’s had his fill of playing with your tits, he trails his hand down your stomach, swirling and smearing his spit around your skin. when his gaze falls back onto your glistening cunt, he snaps back into his previous task, smirking before once again, ramming into you without caution.

thrust after thrust, he can feel himself reaching the edge, moving in and out of you with ease, watching your eyes roll into the back of your head. there was one thing, however, he wanted to test before he let himself go.

he brings a hand up towards your face, running a finger from your temple to your chin, watching you. he brings his hand to rest on the side of your throat, thumb rubbing up and down the center. “d’ya trust me?” he whispers to you, typical, soft jack making an appearance.

you nod at him eagerly, assuring him you trust him, wholly and completely. you risk breaking the rules, a small “always” leaving your lips. he looks at you with love in his eyes, but you watch as they switch, once again showing the wildness you’ve grown to like tonight.

he moves his hand slightly so his whole hands covers your throat, and he squeezes. hard.

you sputter and wheeze, eyes wide at how much pressure he’s applying, not even easing into it. but you’re not scared. if anything, the pressure building in your head is dizzying, adding to every sensation coursing through your body.

he doesn’t stop, squeezing tighter by the second. just as he’s about to let up, worrying he’s gone too far, he feels that flutter from your core once again. his sign you’re enjoying this far more than he ever thought you would. he holds his grip for a few moments longer.

you’re starting to see stars in the edges of your vision, but you’re so turned on you never want it to end. with a final, small caress of the side of your neck with his thumb, he lets go. you suck in air, actually a little worried he might have left a mark once you gain your wits about you again.

the whole time, he never stopped rutting his hips into yours, thrusts growing sloppier by the second. he leans forward and lines his mouth up to hover above your breasts, collecting a mouth full of saliva and letting it fall from his lips onto your full, bouncing breasts. and again on your chest. and your stomach. and where his dick is sliding in and out of you. then he moves back up your body, taking a hand and parting your lips, watching his foamy spit land right into your open mouth. the fluid drips right into the back of your throat.

watching you early swallow his spit, then opening your mouth and begging for more, is what does him in. he feels the band about to snap, so he pulls out of you, drops your leg from his shoulder, and moves to straddle right over your stomach.

he strokes himself a few more times, then aims his release to fall in a sticky mess all over your spit covered tits, watching the milky substance roll and drip over the fleshy mounds. he strokes himself until the sensitivity takes over, slumping down, but careful not to put all of his body weight on you.

you wiggle and writhe beneath him, trying your hardest to reach a hand down to your pulsing center, needing now more than ever to reach your own release.

jack feels what you’re trying to do, and grabs your hands, trapping them both above your head.

“what did i tell you earlier, you dumb slut?” he’s clearly not done with being an ass just yet. “only i get to come tonight. and i did. so now you’re gonna go clean yourself up, come back to bed, naked, and if you can behave for the rest of the night, you might get to wake up to something nice,” he bends down to place a chaste kiss to your lips, releasing your hands and moving to sit beside of you.

you sit up and start to get off of the bed. once you’re stood fully, jack takes the opportunity to reach over and smack your bare ass again, smirking at you when your head whips around to look at him.

“hurry up, i may be pissed tonight, but now that i got all of that out of my system, i want to cuddle,” he tells you, his tone back to your normal jack, but eyes still wild as ever.

[gothcsz]

part nine of the neighbors series. i just had to write this... it was too good of a thought to keep just in my head! javier going back to helena after you rightfully tell him to get lost for standing you up. he's not into it but decides to fuck her anyways?! this man and his unhealthy coping mechanism: sex. smh. this takes place after part seven 🖤

javier peña x f!reader. ~1.5k word count. spanish heavy (translated), s m u t, honestly javi just comes with his own warning at this point, angst (as always)

Javier winces as the door to your apartment shuts in his face, the sound echoing louder than it should in the quiet hallway. He stands there for a long moment, his heart lodged firmly in his throat as guilt churns in his stomach.

He’d known, from the moment you opened the door in that beautiful dress, that he’d made a colossal mistake. He’s not sure how the fuck he’s going to make things right between you.

He sighs deeply, dragging a hand down his face before pinching the bridge of his nose. The way you masked the hurt he caused with dismissiveness and a sharp, cutting comment before turning him away somehow stung worse than if you’d just yelled at him.

His feet feel heavy as he trudges back to his apartment, the guilt following him like a shadow. 

When he opens the door, Helena is there, sprawled comfortably on his couch with her legs crossed and a glass of whiskey in hand. She looks up, a playful smile tugging at her lips as she watches him close the door behind him with a slow, almost reluctant motion.

“Eso fue rápido,” (That was fast) she comments, “¿Todo bien?” (Everything okay?) she tilts her head slightly, her gaze curious but not overly concerned.

Javier stands at the threshold of his sunken living room, his shoulders sagging with the weight of his thoughts. He doesn’t answer immediately, too busy replaying the image of you in his mind.

She sets the glass down and stands, closing the distance between them.“Puedo ver el conflicto en tus ojos, Javi. ¿Tu vecina te gritó o que?” (I can see the conflict in your eyes, Javi. Did your neighbor bitch at you or something?) she teases, resting her hands on his shoulders before letting her fingers curl into the soft curls at the nape of his neck.

Her touch pulls him out of his thoughts momentarily. “No,” he replies, his tone low, “Pero me porte como un culero y me siento mal por como la trate.” (But I acted like an asshole and I feel bad about how I treated her)

She raises an eyebrow, her lips quirking into an amused smile. “You’re an asshole to everyone,” she says lightly, brushing a kiss along his jaw.

He scoffs, his frown deepening. “¿Qué? No hagas ese ruido—sabes que tengo razón.” (What? Don’t make that noise—you know I’m right) she chimes in as she continues with her affectionate touches. 

Normally, he’d lean into it, let her distract him the way she always does. But tonight, it feels hollow, like a cheap salve for a wound cut too deep.

She notices his hesitance, pausing as she cups his face in her hands. “Nunca he visto a nadie tan interesado en lo que hace su vecina. Should I be worried about her?” (I’ve never seen anyone so into what his neighbor is doing) she’s half-teasing as her gaze searches his face for an answer, but Javier avoids it, the hesitation clear in his brown eyes even as he tries to shrug it off.

“No,” he attempts to be nonchalant with his reply, “Solamente tengo ojos para ti, hermosa.” (I only have eyes for you, beautiful) His hand slips down to grip her ass, trying to redirect the moment, trying to bury the ache of guilt beneath something physical.

She narrows her eyes slightly, skeptical but willing to let it slide. “No mientas, Javier,” (Don’t lie) she murmurs. “Tengo suficiente de eso con todos los hombres en mi vida.” (I get enough of that from all the other men in my life)

Instead of responding, he leans in and kisses her, rough and insistent. She doesn’t push for more answers, letting him take what he needs, but she doesn’t miss the edge of hindrance in his touch.

“Si necesitas hablar de algo, sabes que aquí estoy,” (If you need to talk about something, you know I’m here) she says softly, more serious now as their lips brush together.

“Me ayudas más cuando no hablas,” (You help me more when you don't talk) he mutters before pulling her closer. She nips at his bottom lip, and it’s enough to spark the familiar lust between them.

Urgent touches, clothes discarded in a trail to the couch, and soon they’re a tangled mess with a throw blanket lazily thrown over their bodies.

She sinks down onto him, her lips on his neck as she whispers dirty encouragements against his skin.

It feels good—sex with Helena always does—but it’s different tonight.

No matter how tightly he shuts his eyes, no matter how hard he digs his fingers into her hips to ground himself, his mind keeps drifting back to you. To the way your lips trembled just slightly before you masked it, to the look in your eyes when you told him to ‘have fun vetting his lead.’

“Javi…” Helena’s airy moan pulls him back briefly, the clench of her around him sending a spark up his spine. He leans in to kiss her, messy and urgent, but it’s not to deepen their connection—it’s to keep her quiet.

The last thing he wants is for you to hear this, for you to know just how badly he’s handled things tonight.

Large hands move around to knead at her ass, guiding her movements, but his touch lacks its usual fervor.

The thought of you fills every corner of his mind even as he tries to lose himself in her. Your excitement that day by the fountain, the shy smile as you invited him out, and the way that smile disappeared the moment you saw him walk in with Helena.

And when her orgasm begins to crest and she’s shuddering around him, he barely notices, too consumed by the ache in his chest that no amount of physical release can fix.

She notices. She always does. Her rhythm falters slightly as she leans closer, her lips skimming his ear. “Pareces distraído.” (You seem distracted)

“Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he growls, “Sigue moviéndote así.” (Just keep moving like that)

For the sake of not ruining this moment, she says nothing else, though he can feel the slight hesitation in her movements before she settles back into the pace he’s been guiding her toward.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in his hair as she rides him, and he leans his head back against the couch, letting his eyes fall shut again.

It still doesn’t help.

Helena’s nails rake lightly down his chest, and he shivers, but it’s not desire that ripples through him—it’s frustration. With himself. With this situation. With the way he’s here, with a beautiful woman in his lap, and all he can think about is how badly he’s screwed things up with you.

Even as he drives her to her peak, there’s no satisfaction in it for him. His body is moving on autopilot, chasing a release that feels more like an obligation than a need.

When he finally comes, her name is the last thing on his mind. Yours, however, lingers at the tip of his tongue, threatening to lash out.

He bites it back, swallowing hard as she digs her nails into the skin of his shoulders, a guttural groan muffled against her neck, his hands clutching her ass like she’s the only thing tethering him to this moment of fleeting pleasure. 

The instant it’s over, he feels heavier than before, the guilt settling back over him like a dense fog that refuses to lift.

Helena collapses against his chest, her breath warm and uneven against his neck. She’s still for a few seconds, and then she lifts her head, her dark eyes searching his face.

“¿Seguro que estás bien?” (Are you sure you’re okay?) she asks softly, concern threading through her voice.

Javier exhales sharply, avoiding her gaze as he gently shifts her off of him. “Estoy bien,” (I’m fine) he repeats for what feels like the millionth time, his words clipped. He stands, grabbing his discarded jeans from the floor and pulling them on hastily.

She watches him in silence, wrapping the blanket around her naked form, unspoken questions hanging in the air. He can feel her studying him, trying to piece together the puzzle of his distraction, but he doesn’t have the energy to reassure her. Not tonight.

He grabs the carton of cigarettes and lighter from the coffee table, his movements practiced, almost automatic. The flick of the lighter illuminates his face briefly before the glow fades, the cigarette catching with a faint crackle. He takes a deep drag, smoke filling his lungs before he exhales, watching it swirl toward the ceiling.

“¿Te vas a quedar?” (Are you staying?)

She doesn’t answer right away, licking her lips. “No. Tengo otros planes.” (No. I have other plans)

Relief floods through him, and for the first time since they started hooking up, he’s okay with her walking out the door. He nods, tapping ash into the tray on the table.

“Bueno entonces, cuidate. Here,” (Well then, take care) holding the cigarette between his lips, he fishes his leather wallet from the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out a wad of cash, walking over and holding it out to her.

Her eyes drop to the money, her expression tightening. “Javi, ya te he dicho como me siento con esto.” (Javi, I’ve already told you how I feel about this)

“¿Qué?” He shrugs, speaking around the cigarette between his teeth. “Te estoy pagando como lo hacen todos los demás.” (What? I’m paying you like everyone else does)

“No eres como los demás.” (You’re not like the others)

They lock eyes, the tension between them heavy and tangible. His exasperation simmers, then bubbles over. He tosses the money onto the coffee table with a thud.

“Entonces no lo tomes. Me vale madre.” (Then don’t take it. I don’t give a damn)

Helena stands, redressing and stepping into her heels. Javier finishes his cigarette with slow drags as she collects her things. She swipes the cash on her way out, crumpling it in her fist.

“¿Ves lo que te dije? Eres un culero con todos.” (See what I told you? You’re an asshole to everyone)

He doesn’t flinch but his jaw flexes, a muscle ticking as he watches her brush past him, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor.

She stops at the door, one hand resting on the knob as she glances back at him. “No sé qué está pasando entre tú y tu vecina, pero necesitas arreglarlo porque odio cuando actúas así.”  (I don’t know what's going on between you and your neighbor, but you need to straighten it out because I hate it when you act like this)

With that, she unlocks the door and leaves, leaving him standing there in his living room, now feeling worse than he did before and he has no one to blame but himself.

He stares at the spot where she stood, the remnants of her perfume lingering faintly in the air. He doesn’t move for a long moment, caught in the crossroads of her parting words.

Finally, he curses under his breath and heads to the bathroom. The cool tile beneath his feet as he flips on the light, the hum of the fluorescent bulb filling the room. He leans over the sink, gripping the porcelain edges so tightly—his knuckles go white.

The faucet sputters to life with a twist of his wrist, and he splashes cold water onto his face, droplets streaking down his cheeks and dripping onto his bare chest. It does nothing to clear the haze in his head.

When he looks up into the mirror, the man staring back at him looks just as wrecked as he feels.

This isn’t sustainable and he knows it. He can’t keep making a mess of every little thing in his life, can’t keep masking his despair with sex, whiskey, and cigarettes.

But knowing is one thing. Doing is another.

started a tag list for my works here, so if you're interested— pls check it out 🖤

🏷️ : @almostempty . @persephone-girl . @magneticecstasy . @thundermartini . @pepperstories . @greenwitchfromthewoods . @almostfoxglove . @maiyart . @pedrohoe04 . @natalieispunk . @thewisesalmon . @bitchesuntitled . @puddles221b . @swankyorange . @bbyanarchist . @thottiewinemom . @heyhihello-4771 . @danaehldy . @sunflowerfive . @libre-sol . @harriedandharassed . @untamedheart81 . @moel-jiller . @honeyedmiller . @alexxavicry . @oldenoughtoknowbettersstuff . @almodovarispunk . @southernbe . @readingiskeepingmegoing . @pedrito-is-punk7 . @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler . @la-vie-est-une-fleur29 . @lover-of-books-and-tea . @mysterious-moonstruck-musings . @pigeonmama . @piercethevic03 . @phry-k . @larascorneroftheworld . @marisemonteiroo . @samanthajonees . @yellowbrickyeti . @bambisweethearts . @whiskeyneat-coffeeblack . @picketniffler . @itwasntimethatdidit40 . @94namkooksworld . @prose-before-hoes . @dontlookatme121 . @cherrysugarx . @half-moon16 . @dinanabuu . @sunshinefive . @angiewatson .

[darlingkikki]

omg, late to your ghoap post but au where you’re just crying asking if johnny doesn’t love you or take the relationship seriously because he kissed someone else while ghost is sitting there waiting for his kiss. thinks you’re so pretty hiccuping and crying but damn he wants that kiss already

Warnings: Manipulative Ghost, bitch boy Johnny (lmao but seriously), dubcon (mostly for the illusion of choice but the kiss is consensual)

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

I am in a writing funk but I forced myself to at least explore more of this because I so badly want to but my brain is mush :( (not edited so just focus on the vibes)

initial post linked here

Something dark and insatiable claws at the inside of Ghost’s skull. To repress it, his blunt nails bite into his palms. He watches Johnny’s hands cup your crestfallen face, his expression knotted with the heaviness of remorse. Above the sound of your hiccuping questions, he can just about pick up Johnny’s attempts to soothe your broken heart. 

“Course I love yeh. That hasn’t changed.” 

“Nah, dinnae say that. I did a dumb thing. I’m always doing dumb things. It’s nothin’ to do with yeh.”

“I pushed them away, just not quick enough. I didnae do anything more, I promise.” 

He’s unyielding in holding your gaze. His thumbs trace gentle, methodical circles on your cheeks, wiping away the moisture under your eyes. Selfishly, cruelly, Simon wishes you would stop sobbing already so he can take over. Johnny promised him a kiss from you, so a kiss is what he’ll be leaving with.

You seem to be a gentle, sweet thing so far, even with a pouty frown pulling the corners of your lips downwards. Sensitive too. (What other parts of you share that same description?). A few tears evade Johnny’s thumbs. They roll down the swell of your cheeks. Ghost licks his lips, imagining his tongue following the wet trails down to the collar of your shirt.

Fuck, he needs this kiss bad.

If Johnny is desperate enough for your forgiveness, maybe he can push this further with you. Convince him that a kiss isn’t enough. That you deserve—no, need something more. Johnny will be easy to sway. You, however, he’s still figuring out as Johnny calms you into soft sniffles. 

“There you go, now yer ready to meet my Lt.,” Johnny coos. He steps around you, putting his hands on either side of your face and angling you to look where Ghost has been standing this entire time. “Go on, give me hell Ghost.” 

Fucking finally. Ghost doesn’t respond. He can’t. Not when the sight of you has him sucking in a sharp breath. 

Christ, what a sight you are.

His body moves, driven by greed when you stare at him all confused and teary-eyed. His favorite combination.

“Good finally meetin’ you,” Ghost says. His footsteps are heavy against the wooden floor. He hasn’t even taken his boots off.

Johnny’s fingers tighten to keep you looking straight at Ghost. Like a puppeteer, though it’s clear who has the ultimate hold on the strings. 

“Why is he here?” You ask, trying and failing to turn your head towards Johnny. Nope, not yet. It’s Ghost’s turn now and Johnny bows out of the equation.

Their positions have switched seamlessly, like dancers performing around your body. Or soldiers following a meticulous plan only they are privy to. The smell of alcohol leaves your nostrils, replaced by mint and heady tobacco. It's sense whiplash and your confusion makes for an excellent distraction from your heartache. A distraction Ghost can use to worm his way in.

“I’m here to make it better,” Simon answers after a beat. His eyes are devilishly dark, indistinguishable from a starless night sky. Inky like pools of tar. He says your name with the familiarity of a lover. An undeniable hunger laces his voice and a shudder slithers down your spine. 

Oh yes, he thinks, smirking like a starving lion, you won’t need much convincing. Your reaction speaks volumes. Without waiting for your reply, he continues, “Your boyfriend's hurt you, yeah? You shouldn’t let him get away with it.”

He’s right, you know that. To forgive Johnny would only lead to a forever-repeating cycle of tears and heartache. But what choice did you have now? 

The luxury of choosing for yourself is a privilege these men have taken for themselves. 

Ghost leans in until his lips are just a hair’s breadth away. He’s dangling a carrot in front of your face—the answer to all your pain. 

Johnny's grip on your head loosens. Without it, you'd have forgotten entirely that he was still here, acting as the hard place Ghost urges you towards with a coaxing grasp on your hips, leaving you in his cage and Johnny a willful voyeur. 

He’s tied your neurons in knots, effectively cutting off any chance you have at making a less rash decision. He’s infiltrated your senses and made you his prey. No one could fault you for believing him when he tells you he’ll make it better. Let the warmth of his mouth be a band-aid for your pain and a knife in Johnny’s chest.

"Let me fix it," Ghost whispers, just before his lips are about to claim yours.

It's not a question.

[decentwritings]

Chapter 1

Summary: At twenty-six, you never expected your life to look like this: a veteran, a college dropout, now running drugs to cover your late father’s debts. The military took you away for a brief moment, but now you're back in your hometown, keeping family at a distance to keep them safe. Your simple plan to clear the debt, one job at a time, unravels the moment Mabel steps into your life.

previous part <- -> next part

The man's voice echoes as you make your way to your truck. You're too focused on his words, the smirk on his lips as he says it.

"Like father, like daughter..."

You grip the car door handle, pulling it only to find it locked. You swore you unlocked it. You shake your head at yourself and unlock it this time, hopping in with the words still echoing.

The truck's interior feels suffocating, the familiar scent of worn leather and saltwater suddenly heavy. You slam the door shut, trying to drown out the memory of the man's mocking tone. He didn't know anything about you—just like everyone else in this town, he only saw the shadows of your father's choices lurking behind you.

You lean your forehead against the steering wheel, taking a deep breath. Your heart races, the weight of the night settling onto your chest. "Get a grip," you mutter to yourself, but the words offer little comfort.

You glance in the rearview mirror, half-expecting to see him lingering behind, smirking like he just won some twisted game. But the street is empty, illuminated only by the flickering streetlights.

You start the engine, its rumble cutting through the silence. As you shift into gear, a sense of urgency drives you to leave this place behind. But then a flash of Mabel's smile crosses your mind, a light that momentarily pierces through the darkness that seems to follow you.

You grip the steering wheel tighter, torn between wanting to escape and wanting to stay. What if she finds out? What if she looks at you the same way he did?

What about your mother? Your sister? Your nephew? You have so many people relying on you—and the weight of their expectations feels heavier than ever. You can't afford to let them down, to bring them into the chaos that has consumed your family. You can't let them see you falter or break, not when they've already lost so much.

Taking a deep breath, you force yourself to focus on the road ahead, the dim glow of streetlights flickering past your window. The familiar sights of the town blur together, each one a reminder of what you're fighting to keep safe. You push the thought of Mabel aside, reminding yourself that friendships can't thrive in darkness.

You're in need of a swim. The last five days have been filled with work that you haven't had time to go for a swim in the ocean. You also have been avoiding it because you're afraid Mabel may be there.

It's been five days though. No one goes to the beach recurrently like you. You should be in the clear.

Your duffel bag hits the sand when you find the right spot. The sun is beginning its descent behind the horizon and you can't believe how beautiful it looks. It never ceases to amaze you how the sun setting looks. Especially when it tucks behind the horizon.

The swim is long but not long enough. The only reason you swim back to shore is to rest your arms, the ache in them stronger than your need to do another lap. You return back to your spot and plop down on your towel, eyeing the shimmering sand on your wet legs and feet. You're slightly out of breath and tired, but you needed that more than you care to admit. You know you can't spend too much time here. You have a feeling Rudy will come out here in search for you after your last run in.

"You've been avoiding me."

Ahh damn, you think, your head dropping the instant you hear her voice.

You pick at the sand on your legs, attempting to brush it off. "I'm not avoiding anyone," you say back, glancing over your shoulder to get a look at her. You let out a soft sigh, knowing you can't hide from her now. Mabel stands a few feet away, her silhouette framed by the fading light, the glow of the sunset casting a warm hue over her features. You can feel your heart racing despite the chill of the evening breeze.

"Your uncle says you come by here everyday," Mabel says as she makes her way over to you.

You glance up at her, feeling a mix of embarrassment and longing. "He tends to exaggerate. It's not like I have a set schedule or anything."

Mabel laughs softly, her eyes sparkling in the waning light. "Well, it seems like he knows you better than you think. It's kind of sweet, actually. He worries about you."

It is sweet. What is also sweet is she's checking in on you. Mabel, who you have only known for a few hours, is checking in on you. You haven't had anyone other than family check in on you. You lost touch with your military buddies the minute they returned to base. They didn't like you leaving in the middle of a rough time in America. You argued that the hard time in this country will never cease, but the hard time in your family can with your help. Conversations between you and them ended since then.

You swallow hard, the weight of her concern settling in your chest. "I appreciate that, really," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "But it's complicated."

Mabel takes a seat on the sand next to you, her presence warm and inviting. "Complicated how? You can talk to me, you know. I'm a good listener," she smiles, like there's more to her words that you are failing to understand.

You glance sideways at her, searching for any signs of insincerity, but all you find is genuine curiosity and kindness. It's disarming. "I guess... I haven't been in the best place lately. Things have been rough at home," you reach for the end of the towel you're sat on, using it to dry your feet.

Mabel nods, her expression softening. "I can relate. Everyone has their own battles, right? I mean, it's not like my life is perfect either."

"What do you mean?" you ask, genuinely curious. That and to avoid the conversation from being all about you.

"I'm in town for summer break," Mabel begins, scooping some sand into her hand. She carefully pours it between her hands back and forth. "I have my own place–I've had my own place since I was eighteen to get away from my mom but when I'm in town, she tries to reel me back into her shit."

You watch her, intrigued by the way she opens up, revealing pieces of herself like a puzzle you're eager to solve. "That sounds tough. What kind of stuff? If you don't mind me asking."

Mabel pauses, her gaze fixed on the horizon, where the sun is slowly dipping into the ocean. "Just...stupid stuff." She answers, and you decide not to ask for elaboration. If she wanted to share, she would have. "She has this way of making everything about her. I love her, but it's draining, you know? It feels like I'm always trying to help her when I really need to focus on myself."

You nod, understanding all too well the pressure that comes from familial obligations. "Yeah, I get that. It's hard to balance everything."

"Exactly," she says, turning to you with a spark of understanding in her eyes. "And then there's school, and trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. I mean, it took a while for me to even make the decision to apply to college. It can feel overwhelming."

You nod, remaining quiet, feeling the connection deepening.

Mabel sighs, running her fingers through the sand as if it could somehow sift away her thoughts. "I guess I just feel stuck sometimes, like no matter how far I go or what I accomplish, I'm still tethered to this place. To her. To the people."

You lean back on your hands, looking up at the sky as it shifts into twilight, stars beginning to peek through. You look at her, really look at her. You hadn't noticed it before, but she has more freckles than you previously thought. The denim shorts she has on and the soft, oversized sweater she's wearing make her seem even more at ease in this moment, despite the heaviness of her words. There's something about the way the fading light catches her freckles, her hair slightly tousled by the breeze, that makes you realize just how much she's been carrying. She looks...ethereal.

And you've never even used that word before.

"Where do you go?" You ask her, and she looks at you in silent question. "College, I mean. You said you're in town for summer break so that must mean you go to college out of state."

Mabel nods. "UMass. I used to go to Dartmouth but then I decided to aim for Amherst–and I got in." She answers, picking at a loose fabric on her shorts. Like she's embarrassed with what she says next. "Don't ask what I'm studying, though because I don't even know yet."

You chuckle softly, shaking your head. "I wasn't going to ask. Honestly, when I first went, I had no idea what I wanted to study," you admit it, sitting up, dusting the sand off your hands. "Dropped out my second semester, though," you lift your hand to graze the necklace around your neck.

Mabel raises a brow. "Dropped out? What happened?"

"Got my heart broken, for starters," you begin, sighing as you remember the months before you joined the army. You miss the frown on Mabel's lips at your words, continuing. "And it was...all too easy. The classes and the homework, I mean. So, my grandfather, who had told me stories of his time in the Navy, said if education wasn't what I wanted to pursue, then to use the knowledge I had for something else."

Mabel remains quiet, allowing you to continue.

"I have a photographic memory," you confess, rubbing the pendant around your neck, feeling its familiar weight. You never shared that with anyone. Not even your ex. "It's been helpful in some ways, in high school when I learned how to really use it to my advantage," you finish, feeling a strange sense of vulnerability wash over you. "But after a while, it didn't feel like enough. Nothing really did."

Mabel tilts her head slightly, her eyes full of curiosity and something else—something softer. "That's a lot to carry," she says gently. "And I'm guessing the army helped distract you from all of that."

"Until it didn't," you shrug, recalling the times you returned home during leave, only to be greeted with indifference. No welcome party, no one even at the airport. You took a cab, and when you walked through the front door, your parents barely acknowledged your presence—like you hadn't just been in a war zone. Your sister, she wasn't any different.

"My parents didn't want me to join," you continue, sifting through the sand with your left hand. "Even shut out my grandpa because he managed to convince me. I had to hear from my captain that my grandfather passed–not from my family."

Mabel's expression hardens, a flicker of anger crossing her face. "That's fucked up," you glance at her at her firm tone, now aware of her demeanor. "I can't imagine how that felt; to find out like that."

You shrug, trying to downplay the weight of it. "I mean, it was what it was. I didn't expect much from them by that point anyway." The words feel hollow even as they leave your mouth, but it's easier to say that than to dwell on the hurt.

Mabel shakes her head, disbelief clear on her face. "Still... that's not something you should've had to go through alone. Your family's supposed to be there for you, especially with something like that."

You glance at her, surprised by the fire in her voice. There's a toughness in Mabel that matches the soft vulnerability she's shown tonight, and it intrigues you. She's been through her own battles, you can tell, and that makes her empathy feel real, not just empty words.

"Family's complicated," you murmur. "Sometimes, they're the ones who mess you up the most."

Mabel clenches her jaw, as if biting back a reply that hits too close to home. She exhales, shaking her head. "Yeah. But that doesn't make it okay. People think they can just push you around, try to control your life, and when you break away, they punish you for it."

Her words hang heavy between you two, the unspoken experiences she's not ready to share yet clear in her eyes. You look out at the horizon, the sky now dark, with only the faintest hint of twilight left.

The sun has fully hidden behind the horizon, the moon up in the sky with its toenail shape. You feel like a kid staring at it because with the discussion of your family, you vividly remember having trips to the beach with them and sitting here until the moon is in the sky.

That was when times were easy. You were innocent to everything going on in the world, in your family.

"I feel like this town only has pain," you find yourself saying, a flash of the dented "Welcome to Newbedford" sign coming to mind, the one you always passed when returning home. It seemed fitting, like the town itself was as broken as the people in it.

Mabel's gaze shifts to the moon, her expression softening just slightly. "Yeah." Her voice is low, almost a whisper. "Sometimes it feels like no matter where you go, the weight of this place follows you."

You glance at her, wondering just how much of herself she's trying to escape. She's resilient, strong-willed, but you can see now that there's a part of her tethered to this place just like you.

"It's like we're both trying to run from something," you say, not fully expecting her to respond.

Mabel nods slowly, as if she's been thinking the same thing. "But maybe... maybe we don't have to do it alone."

Her words hit you harder than you expected. For the first time in a long while, you feel understood, and in this small, fleeting moment, it's enough.

You hum, wiggling your toes and watch the dry sand fall off. You look at her and see it in her eyes, the pity in her eyes. She spoke with Rudy about more than just your trips to the beach and you know it.

"I'm a bad influence, Mabel," you say, shrugging to hide the hurt of how true the words are. "I'm a bad sister, bad daughter and I'll be a bad friend. Your best bet is to stay away. You look like you have it all figured out, or doing a good job of having it figured out. You shouldn't...waste your time on me. I'd just drag you into my mess, which is...dirty, for a lack of better word."

Mabel's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and concern. She leans closer, her voice firm yet gentle. "You don't get to decide how I handle my life or who I spend my time with. I see you trying, even if you don't."

You're stunned by how harsh her tone is. It's like this is a revelation for her—a breaking point where she's finally willing to stand her ground. You can't remember the last time someone pushed back against your self-deprecation like this, and it catches you off guard.

You look away, the weight of her words pressing against you. "I don't want to ruin your summer or make things worse for you. You deserve better than what I can offer."

"Maybe I don't want 'better,'" she shoots back, her tone almost teasing, though her eyes remain serious. You crack a small smile, the hint of a smile on her lips making you crack slightly. "Maybe I want real, and real is messy. We all have our battles. It doesn't make you a bad person; it makes you human."

You shake your head, feeling the ache of her honesty. "You don't know what you're getting into. I'm tangled up in things I can't just walk away from."

Or rather, don't want to, because you're scared of the consequences.

You want to tell her about your dad, how he ruined your family with his death. But it's not in you; because he may have been a stupid dumbass but he still raised you, taught you things you find valuable.

"I can't just let you in on all of that. It feels unfair to unload it on you when you have your own life to navigate," you admit, your voice trembling slightly with the weight of the truth you're holding back.

Mabel watches you intently, her expression softening. "You think I haven't been where you are? I've dealt with my share of darkness. I get it. I really do."

There's a silence that envelopes you both, and you notice her scoot over to brush her shoulder against yours.

"People deserve a chance to prove they are capable of more than what they are expected of," she whispers.

You shake your head, still defiant to this.

"Mabel, you don't even know me," you whisper, a whisk of wind blowing the silence away with your words.

Her gaze doesn't waver. "That's true, but I want to," she says, sighing quietly. "I've been in college for two semesters now and I feel like I've learned a thing or two about people. How to read them and how to understand the layers beneath the surface." She shifts closer, her shoulder brushing against yours once again as she continues, "You're not just a collection of mistakes or past choices. You're a person with history and dreams and everything in between."

You look at her, surprised by the depth of her insight. "Psychology," you say, raising a brow. She arches one back at you. "I remember reading something like that in my intro to psych class."

Mabel hums. "Photographic memory," she remembers and you can only nod. "Look, you're the girl who jumped into the ocean for some stranger's bag," she continues, her tone lightening with a hint of amusement. "That says something about your character."

You chuckle softly, brushing off her compliment. "It was just a bag. I couldn't let it drown."

"But it wasn't just a bag to me," Mabel insists, her voice firm yet playful. "It was my favorite bag! You saved it, and that speaks volumes. You're willing to go out of your way for others, even when you're struggling yourself."

You take a moment to absorb her words, the weight of them sinking in. You wrap your arms around your knees, the feeling to go back for a swim surfacing. You eye the waves, the darkness over them with the shimmer of the moon on the surface.

"Charlie didn't even jump in," Mabel says, bringing you out of your stupor. "And he's been trying to nonchalantly get us back together."

You whip your head to look at her. By your look, she laughs, nodding as she understands your silence.

"We used to date," Mabel shrugs, and you can't help but wonder what the idiot did to lose her. "We tried the long distance thing while he was here and I was in UMass–didn't work. I was too focused on wanting to get out, leave to never come back and he–well, he gave up a scholarship to stay in town with his brother to fish."

You quirk a brow, both impressed and bewildered by Charlie's decision. You didn't take the guy for someone to give up a scholarship. You actually saw him more as a fisherman than an Ivy League guy. Looks can be deceiving, you think.

"Wow, that's a big sacrifice," you say, trying to wrap your head around it. "I guess that explains why he's still here."

Mabel nods, her expression shifting slightly. "Yeah, he's a good guy, but... sometimes good isn't enough, you know? We just weren't on the same page. I needed to chase my dreams, and he was stuck here–or rather, choose this place over..."

You can hear it in her voice, see it on her face. He hurt her. He chose this place over her. The breakup may appear amicable but it hurt Mabel more than she cares to admit.

"I don't know," she admits, looking out at the ocean. "It's complicated. Part of me wants to see what's out there, but another part of me feels rooted here. It's a tug-of-war."

"Sounds familiar," you murmur, thinking about your own life and the choices you've made.

You feel sticky, icky even. The need for a swim is strong again, so you stand, surprising the girl beside you.

"I have a spare change of clothes," you start, stretching your back and cracking your neck. You're too lazy to stretch anymore so you extend your hand, the corner of your mouth tilting up into a small half smile. "Wanna go for a swim?"

Mabel stares up at you, her gaze flicking between your hand and your face, weighing the invitation. You can see the hesitation in her eyes, but there's also a spark of excitement.

"Are you serious?" she asks, her tone a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "You actually want to swim at night?"

"Why not?" you reply, a teasing grin spreading across your face. "The ocean is right there, and it's just us. Plus, it'll help wash away all the heavy stuff we've been talking about."

Mabel bites her lip, considering. You can tell she's torn between the comfort of staying on the beach and the thrill of diving into the unknown. Finally, she glances at the dark water, the moonlight dancing on its surface, and takes a deep breath.

She says something under her breath, you strain to hear it. You shake your head and kneel to ask her to repeat herself.

"I don't know how to swim."

You purse your lips, a laugh threatening to escape your lips. But the tint of color on her cheeks is noticeable thanks to the moon's light. So you inhale a breath and shrug.

A wave of empathy washes over you. "That's okay. We can just splash around in the shallow part, or I can help you if you want to go deeper."

She looks at you, like she's trying to read more into what you're saying or offering. You aren't sure how long it is you two just stare at each other; you do know you can spend however long she wants like this, because it feels right.

But then,

"Okay," she says, her voice steady now, determination shining through. She takes your hand, her grip surprisingly firm as she stands up beside you.

You turn your gaze back to the ocean, pretending to focus on the gentle lapping of the waves, though your heart races at the sight of her shedding layers. The cool night air contrasts with the warmth radiating from her skin, and you can't help but steal glances at her as she rolls her sweater up and over her head, revealing a simple tank top beneath.

As you reach the water's edge, the coolness envelops your feet, sending a shiver up your spine. You turn to Mabel, who's already stepping in, her laughter mingling with the sound of the crashing waves.

"How far out have you gone?" Mabel asks as you guys continue into the water, the waves hitting your thighs now.

You shrug, unsure of the furthest distance you've gone out. You never measure or pay attention. You usually pick your head up from under the water when you're out of breath, once you've caught your breath you go back to the shore then repeat the process. You once caught yourself floating on your back, you fell asleep and somehow wound up on the other end of the shoreline.

"Far enough to lose track of time," you reply with a grin, recalling that day you ended up at the other end of the beach. "I actually fell asleep once, just floating. Woke up way down the shoreline. Scared the hell out of me when I realized where I was."

Mabel's eyes widen in surprise. "You fell asleep? While floating in the ocean?"

You nod, feeling the cool waves brush against your legs. "It's peaceful out there, especially when you're alone with the water. Everything just... fades away."

She seems intrigued by your story, a curious gleam in her eyes. "That sounds terrifying and relaxing at the same time."

You laugh softly. "Yeah, it kinda is. But it's also freeing. It's like the ocean holds you up, lets you forget about everything weighing you down."

Mabel's gaze shifts to the dark horizon, her expression thoughtful. "I guess I could use a little of that," she murmurs, the weight of her own thoughts evident in her voice.

You watch her, as she dares to wander just a few inches ahead without you. She puts her hands in the water and lets a wave hit her arms. It's this scene before you, seeing her like this, that makes you decide.

"I can teach you," you speak up, earning her attention. "How to swim. I can teach you," you clarify.

Mabel nods, appearing grateful for the offer. "I'd like that," she laughs gently, a slightly bigger wave hitting her square in the face. She spits water out and stands straight, frowning at your chuckle. "Why didn't you warn me?"

You grin, unable to suppress your laughter as you watch her wipe the water from her face. "Hey, I thought you saw it coming!" you tease, shrugging innocently. "Besides, it's all part of the experience, right?"

Mabel rolls her eyes, but there's a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Sure, if getting slapped in the face by a wave is part of the lesson."

"Lesson one," you say, wading closer to her, "the ocean's unpredictable. You gotta stay on your toes. Literally."

She mimics you, lifting her toes just above the sand, her playful energy returning. "Got it. Stay on my toes and avoid surprise attacks from waves."

You nod in approval. "Exactly. Now, come on. Let's start with floating. It's the easiest way to feel like you're one with the water."

Mabel looks at you, unsure, but the trust is there. "Alright," she says, "show me how it's done."

You guide her a bit further into the water, positioning yourself beside her. The moonlight reflects off the waves, and for a moment, it feels like it's just the two of you in the world. "Just lean back," you tell her softly. "I'll hold you up at first. Let the water do the rest."

She hesitates but then leans back into your hands, her body tense as she tries to relax. "You got me?" she asks, her voice a little shaky.

"I've got you," you assure her, your grip steady. "Now just...relax."

She struggles to actually relax. You laugh and grab her hands, softly calling her name.

"Mabel, you gotta relax," you say, and she sighs, the tension in her body more obvious than before. "Trust me. You trust me, right?"

There's no moment of hesitation.

Mabel takes a deep breath, her eyes searching yours in the moonlight. "I do," she says quietly, the sincerity of her words cutting through the gentle crash of the waves. She exhales, and you feel her start to let go, her body slowly surrendering to the water.

As she floats, the tension fades, leaving only the sound of the ocean and the steady rhythm of your breath. You release her gently, your hands hovering just beneath, ready to catch her if she falters. But she doesn't.

For a moment, it's perfect—just the two of you, suspended in the vastness of the ocean, under the stars.

You smile to yourself, feeling the weight of the past few days lift ever so slightly, as if the sea itself is helping to carry it.

And maybe, just maybe, you think, this is what it feels like to let someone in.

Once the first lesson is done, you both return to your towel. You may have had extra clothes but you didn't have an extra towel. So you bundle up together, wrapping the towel over your shoulders, squishing together under it.

"You're not such a bad influence after all," Mabel says, her head falling onto your shoulder. You can't control the smile that forms on your lips, looking down at her in silence.

The waves lap, and you're grateful for your photographic memory; having this moment etched into your brain forever.

~~~~

taglist: @nwestra

[ramhaiba]

𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋, 𝖫𝗂𝖺𝗋 𝗉𝗍. 2

Pairing- Yandere Rintaro Suna x Reader

Masterlist . . . Part one

"For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real. It’s me.”

Contains- Serial Killer! Suna, oral (f receiving), dubcon, semi-public fingering, groping, choking, biting, manhandling, riding overstimulation, marathon sex, mentions of necrophilia/noncon, implied somnophila, baby trapping(?) A/N- sorry for the long wait guys, writer's block can be a bitch

Sleeping with him was the biggest mistake of your life-

No. letting him ‘help’ you was the biggest mistake of your life. 

Ever since you two had sex, he’s been sleeping in the same bed as you. You did attempt to persuade him to sleep on the couch once again but he simply responded with

‘We both saw what happens when I sleep on the couch, sweetheart. Besides, sharing the same bed might bring back some of those ‘dear’ memories you lost.”  As you predicted, it would be challenging to sneak out of your room at night, especially when Suna’s arm is wrapped around your waist, his chin tucked on your shoulder, and his stern back against your chest.

You thought about lying to him, telling him you’re getting up from bed to use the bathroom but really you’re planning to find his car keys and drive away from this nightmare. But what if you take too long and he gets suspicious? Last time you got lucky when he misunderstood your attempt to steal his car keys.

You hate that you spent the entire week with him, pretending to be in a loving marriage, kissing him sweetly, and sometimes bathing with him. But he hasn’t fucked you since the first time- well with his dick at least. 

If he thinks you look too cute in a nightgown- which you always do, he’ll push you down on the bed, scrunching up your silky slip-on onto your breast and shamelessly make out with your cunt, fingers holding your thighs down and apart to keep you from squirming away. He never fails to give you an intense orgasm. You're so addicted to his touch that you don’t know how you’ll be able to cum again once you escape from him...While on the topic of escaping, you’re finding the idea of freedom too difficult to obtain by yourself. You’re gonna need help.

“ So- I remember you mentioned before that we were still friends with twins from high school” You blurted out while having dinner with your ‘fiancé.’

“ Yeah, Osamu and Atsumu. What about them?” Suna asked nonchalantly. “Well, I think you should invite them over. I think it’d be good for me to meet someone from my past” you suggested.

“ It’d be hard to contact them because the service in this place is horrible” Suna claimed, leaning back in his chair. You let out an instant “oh” with a noticeable pout on your lips.

Then you heard Suna sigh, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Okay. There is this part of the house where the service is somewhat usable. But it’s on the roof so I don’t want you following me there. Your body is still sore which makes it difficult for you to stay up there without falling” Suna pointed out.

He’s right. You’ll probably hurt yourself if you try going on that roof. So the idea of stealing his phone to call for help isn’t possible.

“You have no idea how much this means to me. Thank you, Rin” You complimented. “ Yeah well, I gotta keep my wife happy” Suna got up and kissed your forehead before retreating upstairs.

You waited impatiently for Suna to come back down. A sick part of you wishes that he’d accidentally slip off the roof, breaking his neck because then you’d be freed from this nightmare. But he only takes twenty minutes to come back down, placing his phone back into his pocket as he walks towards you.

“So? Did they say yes?” you questioned. “They said they would love to stop by. But I had to make Atsumu promise he wouldn’t bring another hookup over. I better start cooking dinner because those two guys know how to eat- especially Osamu” Suna replied, giving you an endearing pat on the head as he went to prepare for their arrival. 

--

You hadn’t seen any pictures of the twins prior before they arrived, so it was quite intimidating when two muscular tall men stood at your doorstep. The dark-haired one holding a classic bottle of wine. While Atsumu opened his arms to you, giving you an unwelcomed hug.

“There is our Y/n. It’s been too long since we saw ya” The bold twin one cooed, his arms around you tightened.

“You’re one foot in and already flirtin’ with my fiance- don’t you have any shame, Atsumu?” Suna replied, subtly informing you of the difference between the twins.

So if the blonde, somewhat pervy, twin was Atsumu. The other one must be Osamu.

“I ain’t flirting. I was just being friendly to a friend who’s gotten into a terrible- just terrible accident “ Atsumu pouted.

“I decided to tell them your situation. I hope you don’t mind” Suna commented, smiling innocently.

It’s unsettling.

They’re completely lying to you- you’re not friends with them. How are they so eerily confident then? How can these two lie straight to your face and pretend that you’re Suna's fiancé?

Because you’re not. You’re not his fiancé. 

Right?

Dinner with them made you even more confused. They’re doing the same thing that Suna did. Reciting old stories about your so-called past together. It’s getting more difficult to distinguish what’s the truth or not. Yet Atsumu’s words manage to slip you back into reality.

“You should really be thanking me. If I set you two up in college- y’all would not be getting married.. at least Suna wouldn’t be” Atsumu teased.

“I thought we started dating in high school?” You spoke up, pointing out Atsumu’s mistake. Rather than Atsumu getting embarrassed for making such an innocent mistake. 

Atsumu got nervous.

If you weren’t already so superstitious during dinner, you wouldn’t have noticed how he blinked away, how forced his laughter sounded, and how his brother deadly glared at him.

“Would you pardon us? I think I have to remind Atsumu about some manners” Osamu asked, seeming all friendly while his jawline clenched, a fist under the table. 

Suna clicked him, glancing at a nervous Atsumu and then back at Osamu.” Go ahead,” Suna replied.

You were left alone with him once again.

You and you’re fiancé-no he’s not your fiancé. You and your demon.

“You’re lookin’ a bit nervous, sweetheart. Are you feeling okay? Just say the word and I can get these idiots to leave any time” Suna suggested. “No- they don’t need to leave. I just need to go to the bathroom to freshen up. That’s all” Your laughter sounded a bit too forced, sweaty palms pushing you up out of your seat. “Don’t take too long” Suna mumbled, watching you march quickly out of the dining room.

This is your chance.

You can ask- no- you're going to beg the twins to help you because surely, they wouldn’t want to risk being an accomplice for a serial killer.

You followed their distant voices, words too unintelligible to understand. Eventually, you ended up in front of the door connecting the garage to the summer house. Luckily, they left the door slightly ajar, allowing you to hear their conversation clearly.

You were about to walk in before you heard Osamu say

“Are you a fuckin’ idiot, Tsumu? At this point, Suna not gonna let either of us have a turn with her” Osamu argued with his brother.

“Shut up- shut up. I’m a fuckin’ volleyball player not an actor” Atsumu huffed. “Yeah and I own a restaurant but I know how to keep my story straight,” Osamu remarked.

“I don’t even know why Suna cares s’much about keeping up this whole game” Atsumu commented.

“he’s just gonna kill her like the rest.”

Your heart is racing because your last hope of escaping this n nightmare just revealed they could care less about your life- fuck they could be worse than Suna. Instinctually, you step away from the door, wanting to be as far away from them as possible. But that’s when you feel a stern chest against your back, stopping you from backing away. You slowly turn your head and notice Suna behind you, his eyes glued on the view of the twins arguing about whether they’ll still get a ‘turn’ with you after Atsumu’s mishap.

“Rin-“

“Quiet. It’s always amusing to watch the twins argue, right? “ Suna replied, his hand tilting your face to watch the twins, his chin resting on top of your head, forcing you to watch the truth unfold.

“You know he does sadistic shit like this all the time. Just try to have fun with her while she’s still alive” Osamu huffed.

“I didn’t come here to play an actor. I just wanna fuck her before Suna finally cuts her up or whatever sadistic shit he plans to do with her” Atsumu groaned.

“ Yeah, well, there's no way in hell he’s gonna let you have a turn with her if you don’t play along correctly. You’d be lucky if he even lets you fuck her corpse” 

Atsumu hummed, his once annoyed attitude slowly disappearing as he looked lost in thought- until he made the comment

“I wouldn’t mind that at all actually.”

You want to stop listening but Suna won’t let you. “Please, just let me go and I won’t- I won’t tell anyone” you muttered, voice cracking. Suna laid his forehead on your shoulder, you could feel his smile on his skin.

“What about our wedding?” he cooed, voice teasing, his hands wrapping around your waist, tips of his fingers sliding under your waistband.

“Rintarou, please- I-I don’t want to die. I’ll do anything just don’t hurt me” you begged. 

“I don’t like when you call me by my first name, it makes me feel like I’m in trouble” Suna commented, a soft pout on his lips. This time his hands are traveling further down the inside of your pants until his fingers are tracing over your covered slit. You wish you could fight his touch but you’re too scared to upset him.

“Rin, I don’t wanna pretend anymore. I just wanna go home” You’re starting to cry and he doesn’t need to look at your face to know that tears are pouring out of your eyes.

You act like you’re strong but the second you’re faced with a challenge, you crack like glass. So easy to read. Maybe that’s why he likes you so much.

“You wanna go home? Go ahead and ask the twins for help. But I don’t if they’ll be that compliant” Suna suggested. He’s right. He’s always right.

“I like you. I don’t think I’ve ever been so infatuated with a person like this before. So I’ll give you two choices. You could either go beg the twins to take you away from this ‘hell house’ or

you can become my pretty wife”

 You don't want any of that. You want to run far far away. But he’ll catch you like he did the first time and then he might actually kill you.

“So, what will it be, princess?” He repeats, forcing you to break from your silence. That nickname, it always appears when his true colors are shown. You're starting to hate that word because now you associate it with danger.

“How do I know you won’t kill me,” you ask, in the quietest voice, afraid of his answer. He chuckles at your question, raises his head from your shoulder, and smiles.

“Because I'll never get bored of you.”

That’s all it takes. You nod your head, not wanting to hear yourself agree to stay. To be his, forever.

He leans over, lips almost touching yours, narrow eyes with an unwearying stare forcing you to look at him. 

“You know how to keep quiet, don’t you Mrs. Suna?”

That’s when his wandering fingers finally slip beneath your panties and you’re reminded that Osamu and Atsumu are right behind the door in front of you. “Rin, not here” you begged, squirming to get out of his grip, only for him to hold you tighter.

“Why not? Atsumu would probably wanna hear, that fuckin’ freak” Suna laughed. Just as you were about to utter an argument, you’re cut short by the painfully slow pumping of Suna’s fingers, thrusting into your cunt. You feel weak.

Instead of telling him to stop, your words cut into a breathy moan and Suna is forced to lean over to your ear.

“ Careful, princess. You don’t want them to hear you.” He whispered a reminder, tongue poking out of his mouth to lick a stripe down your neck, causing you only to tighten around his long thrusting fingers. 

“ Try to argue with me but I can feel how wet you are. Maybe you’re the crazy one huh? Or maybe it’s both of us. Guess we're soulmates then” he’s talking more than he usually does. Maybe because he knows you're scared to get caught.

Or maybe he’s drunk on the success of your agreement to your engagement. Doesn’t matter because he’s only getting more confident, pulling down the neckline of your shirt as long as your bra with his other hand, groping the soft skin of your breast all while his thumb is massaging your clit.

Fuck- you’re so close and he’s so fucking hard, forced to grind his painful erection against your back.

You feel pathetic when you're uncontrollably humping his ruthless fingers, chasing your high. 

When you hear him chuckle from behind you, most likely realizing your movement- he has no right to sound so fucking sexy.

“Can’t believe you were begging me to stop, aren’t you just the prettiest liar.” He mumbles.

And you’re finishing on his fingers, legs shaking, eyes tearing up, your hands covering your mouth muffling uncontrollable moans.

Suna slowly pulls his hands out of your pants, bringing his drenched fingers into your mouth, disgustedly making you clean his fingers, tasting yourself. 

He spins you towards him, leaning over to wipe off your smeared make up, fixing your appearance for you because you are all too stunned by what has just occurred.

Just on time, Atsumu and Osamu are opening the door, both surprised to see you.

“ Holy fuck- how long were you two standing there" Atsumu called out. You both turn around to look at them, Suna wrapping one arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his side.

“We just walked in actually” Suna lied for your sake.

“ Well…Wow! look at the time- “ Atsumu said, checking his watch, pretending to read the time. “It’s getting late, ain’t it? I’m a bit too tired to drive…guess me and Osamu gotta stay over the night” Atsumu whistled.

Holy fuck- Atsumu and Osamu still think they have a chance with you. 

You’re beginning to tremble at Suna’s side, fully not trusting him to protect you.

“I’ll call you two an uber,” Suna says blankly.

You could see Atsumu grit his teeth, not knowing why he wasn’t getting rewarded for  his ‘efforts.’

“Well- can we at least visit tomorrow” Osamu questioned, trying to hint if they’ll at least have a chance to fuck your dead corpse.

Sick mother fuckers. Just like Suna- maybe even worse.

“Next time we’ll see you is at our wedding” Suna smiled passively aggressively, knowing he just pissed off the twins.

Atsumu is about to open his mouth, most likely attending to spoil the truth because Suna ruined all of his ‘fun.’ But Osamu stops him by gripping the back of Atsumu’s shirt.

“ No need to argue with an old friend. We’ll leave… just call us next time when we’re allowed to come over” Osamu sighed.

Then they proceed to leave. Not without Atsumu forcing you into a hug, his hand dangerous lying on your lower back, a final act of perversion. They leave and you’re left alone with Suna and his narrow eyes are locked on yours. 

“Could fuck you here or on the bed. Pick one”

There is no option to deny him. He is going to be your husband after all.

“Bed.”

He’s not even letting you walk there, probably thinking you’ll move too slowly for his liking. So he's picking you up effortlessly because of his muscular arms, delivering you to the bedroom before and tossing you onto the mattress. He’s on top of you in a heartbeat, his hands tugging off your clothes, not caring if you’re telling him to slow down because they’ll rip.

He’ll buy you a new one- fuck he’ll buy you anything you’d want as long as he gets to fuck that tight pussy of yours.

Your heart is slipping at the sound of his belt unbuckling, too nervous to look at the sight of him sliding down any of the clothes covering his hard cock.

“Fuckin’ you raw, yeah? Doesn’t matter anymore since we’ll be married soon” Suna clicks his tongue, holding his heavy cock in his hands, pressing his leaking tip against your hole.

You shake your head frantically, “Don’t please Rin- don’t do that to me” you shuttered.

“ What? Ya afraid you’ll conceive the devil’s reincarnation? For what it’s worth, princess, if the devil is real. 

It’s me.”

Without another argument he’s forcing himself into your shameless cunt causing a gasp to slip out of your mouth, not waiting for you to adjust until he’s fucking you into the bed. You’re holding onto everything but him. And he doesn’t like this- it’s not wife behavior is it?

So he leans over and painfully bites into your collarbone, “ hurt me back.” He commands.

And you give him exactly what he wants, slipping your hands under his shirt, digging your nails into his toned back, causing him to only get fuck you harder like it a competition on who can break the quickest.

You’re not holding back your moans- thankful for the lack of people near you, only giving Suna the privilege of hearing them.

Once you orgasm for the second time that night, he’s switching positions and forcing you to take him on his lap, his back resting on the bed frame.

You know what he wants you to do but you’re already so tired, you drowsily shake your head, hoping he’ll stop, and let finally you sleep.

Except all you do is annoy him, hissing under his breath as his hands grip your hips, forcing you to bounce on his cock, overstimulating your insides.

“ Slow down, Rin-“ you asked, knowing he won’t let you stop but at least the idea of slowing down seems possible.

“You wanna go slow, princess? Then you gotta do it yourself” he commented. You hesitate before nodding your head, thinking it’s a better option than letting him fuck you relentlessly.

His hands go behind his head while yours leans over on his thigh, slowly pushing yourself up, sucking in your breath and you sink back down.

Suna whistled at the sight of you fucking yourself on his cock, acting like the perfect wife. 

He’s moving the hair out of your face before wrapping his hands around your neck, freaking you out as he lightly squeezes the sides of your neck. The action is causing you to stop your movement.

“Did I tell you to stop?” He asked, tightening the grip around your neck, making it harder to breathe, a growing light-headed.

Your hands are shaking as you’re lifting yourself up and down on his cock. It’s humiliating, knowing you’re getting off because of him- how easily he has control of your body

“Say you’ll stay” he pants, chest heaving, feeling your cunt squeezing on his cock because of his husky voice.

“ Say you’ll stay forever. Can’t ever leave my side, princess. Dont think I can live without this pussy” he asks, face flushed.

“ I’ll stay—Rin” you managed to croak out with the tightness around your neck.

That’s all he needs until he’s leaning over to your torso, hands moving to grip your waist,  forcing you to stay still on his cock, cumming deep into your pussy.

You think that’ll be it for tonight until he’s pulling back and kissing you, tongue slipping into your mouth, hands moving to grope your breast again until he’s hard once more.

He’s manhandling you until you’re on your hands and knees. He's behind you, watching your legs shake as he guides his cock back into your stuffed pussy, fucking his leaking cum back into you.

You’re screaming from overstimulation, tears soaking the bed sheet under your eyes, hands gripping onto the bed sheet. You feel like you’re being crushed when he presses his chest against your back, his arms wrapped around your lower stomach, cock bullying your insides.

He’s never this energetic.

And you’re also never this honest, finally admitting to knowing the truth behind this charade. But you tell him you’ll stay isn’t something he believes in.

“ Bet you’re thinking about leavin’ when I’m asleep, yeah?” He huffed against the nape of your neck.

“You’d probably find a way to kill me first though. You’re not dumb enough to think I won’t find you” he uttered, talking to you as if he’s not fucking you into oblivion.

“ Doesn’t matter if m’dead or not. I’ll always be with you- every second til the day you fuckin' die, you'll be thinking about me. dreaming about me. haunted by me. So don’t you dare test me. Just be good and I’ll be good back. I fuck you good as well” he adds, his finger rubbing your swollen clit while his hips are forcing you to the edge, squeezing his cock so hard he can’t pull out to cum- not like he was going to do in the first place.

Suna lifts himself and rolls you to the side, admiring your fucked out expression, how you’re staring at the ceiling, chest heaving as you recover from your intense orgasm.

“ Maybe if fuck a baby into you. You wouldn't be able to leave,”Suna commented, the lack of playfulness in his tone suggested to you that he was actually serious about the idea of knocking you up.

“ I'm not - I not planning on leaving— I won’t do it, Rin. I’m telling the truth” you babbled, crying at the idea of going another round, hands frantically wiping down tears that felt never-ending.

Suna chuckles because for once, he believes you. He leans over and kisses your cheek sweetly.

“I’ll be nice and give you a morning-after pill I got laying around somewhere afterward, yeah? I’ll take care of you, but you gotta take care of me,” he cooed.

You are too cute. So much more innocent than Suna is- never committing the horrendous crimes he’s done. And he thinks you begging him to spare you from sex is so much more exciting than you begging him for your life.

But to you- it feels like you’re begging for the same thing. You’ll die if he fucks you again- that your body is too overstimulated and exhausted.

That doesn’t stop him- nothing will really, from getting hard, thrusting into you again. You don’t know when he stopped fucking you- was it after you passed out the third time? Or did he continue ever after that? When it’s over, you’re half awake, back leaning on his chest, his hand ushering you to take the suggested birth control in his hand. Then slowly tilt the glass of water down your mouth. While you manage to drink the refreshing liquid, you get a glance of the mess between your spread legs, cum shameless dripping out and you wish you never met him.

You’re awake and you don’t feel physically dirty, the evidence of cum wiped off your legs by Suna while you were sleeping. 

If he hadn’t marked your body with his teeth and hands, you’d almost pretend last night was nonexistent. Plus the aroma coming from him cooking from the kitchen downstairs only ruins the fantasy even more.

Maybe you’ll run away one day and get away with it. But you can’t say you could ever truly escape, Suna.

Because that would just make you a liar.

taglist @fynn1issshh @kodsuken

[skellymom]

"AMBER EYES" CHAPTER 2

Bad Batch TECH Fan Ficlet x NON-GENDERED READER

A story of HOPE for Tech Fan's: Resident of Pabu unlocks a secret even THEY weren't aware they had access to!

Word Count: 800

Rated: SAFE for EVERYONE! ENJOY!!!

The stars whiz by the windscreen as I lay on the bunk in the dimly lit ship.  Echo is at the helm.  He brought transport since the Marauder was destroyed. 

I’m exhausted. 

It’s been months since my FIRST contact with Tech.  Since then, I’ve only gotten snippets of sensory information: by sight, sound, feel.  I can still feel him breathing...it’s been the only constant since that day on Pabu.  Like we’re sharing the same breath.  

The goggles are no longer needed for me to reach out to Tech.  Omega still brought them along “just in case”.  There are times I can concentrate while awake to experience what he is experiencing.  But most times it happens during the night, when sleep pulls my guard down. 

And, because of that I don’t sleep for very long. 

Crosshair says I talk in my sleep...and it sounds JUST LIKE his brother.  He’s tried to elicit a conversation, but without me being conscious it goes nowhere. 

“Found some muscle relaxers.  That should help you sleep.”  Hunter kneels with a canteen, dropping two tablets into my hand. 

“Thanks” Swallowing the meds. 

“Here” He also hands me a ration bar “They’ll tear up your stomach if you don’t eat.” 

“You’re such a DAD” I kid. 

“You’re a part of this family, too” Hunter smiles and it reaches his eyes.  I can also see a bit of concern in them.  “Of course we’ll take care of you.” 

He pats my shoulder, stepping away as Wrecker approaches. 

“Ya ready?” Cracks the knuckles of his large hands. 

I nod as he sits behind me on the bunk and CAREFULLY massages my head, temple, ears.  The man has hands that could EASILY crush my skull... 

...but his fingers are so gentle.  He eases away the tension as I chew on the ration bar. 

Soon the meds, food, and Wrecker’s massage take effect.  I’m feeling extremely comfortable.  There’s a conversation going on between Hunter, Echo, and Crosshair...I’m catching small snippets... 

“Concerned about ______.  Too much for one person to bear.”  Hunter empathizes with my plight.  He UNDERSTANDS all too well. 

Echo’s voice chimes in “Yeah, all the leads just wind up being dead ends.  Not sure how much longer we...THEY can keep going...” 

Crosshair grits his teeth and worriedly runs his hand over his stubbly head.  His silver hair growing back.  He feels IMMENSE guilt.  Both he and Wrecker have already openly argued about the mission that took Tech’s life... 

They almost came to blows.  It made Omega cry. 

Hunter and Echo broke it up, putting them both in temporary “Time Out.” 

They eventually made up...well Wrecker did.  Crosshair just stared at the floor like a whipped dog. 

Crosshair says something...but it’s lost as I fall asleep with Wrecker’s hands in my hair... 

The warmth and comfort immediately torn away from me... 

I...WE are laying in the cold wet mud...of SOME world...rain coming down in sheets. 

There’s a body next to...us... 

A dead rebel soldier.  His eyes are wide open, glazed over...mud and rain splattered upon his body where he fell... 

We...Tech...is CRAWLING through the mud.  Attempting to escape?  I can FEEL his respiratory effort as he DRAGS himself through the wet mess.  He manages to pull himself with his arms several feet before falling back into the mud...utterly exhausted... 

The hard patter of rain upon his body.  He’s shivering.  His body temperature is dropping...he’s becoming TIRED, struggling to keep both eyes open...only a matter of time before hypothermia sets in... 

Please...don’t LEAVE me... 

He’s addressing...ME!  I can FEEL it!!! 

I’m SHOCKED.  This is the FIRST time he’s spoken to me... 

Yes...I KNOW you’re there.  He answers breathlessly.  Took me some time to ascertain...you are using Remote Viewing... 

I push to find my voice... 

WE ARE COMING FOR YOU!  I blurt out Hunter, Crosshair, Echo, Wrecker, and Omega are with me!  We... 

Tell them to abort their mission! Tech cuts me off. 

NO!  Where ARE YOU??? 

The Empire WILL find you all.  It is NOT safe...  He sighs HEAVILY I wish to see them all again...but NOW is not the time... 

...and...I...am not the man I once was... 

A ship lands several meters away.  Its crew jumps down into the mire, slogging towards...Tech...US.  He is grabbed up by several hands and hauled to the ship...into it...the crew starts basic first aid... 

Thank you for keeping me awake...and ALIVE...if not for YOU, I would have expired.  PLEASE, keep my brothers and sister safe... 

And with that, Tech CUTS contact with me... 

...I SLINGSHOT VIOLENTLY back to Echo’s ship! 

I BOLT upright in the bunk.  Wrecker has a mild heart attack with the suddenness of my action. 

I’m SCREAMING something over and over... 

Tech thought he could prevent me from finding him... 

But I managed to catch a glimpse with HIS OWN EYES...the ship’s hull... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

EVERYONE is running towards me... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

I can only stare DIRECTLY into Echo’s eyes... 

“DELIVERANCE!  TRANSPONDER CODE 00155268!!!” 

They widen.  He SMILES.  Immediately Echo sets to work with his ship’s computer... 

CHAPTER 3 TO BE POSTED SHORTLY!

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[wishful-thinking-is-dumb]

Platonic Yandere John Wick Part 1

Hours have passed since John left, and you are left alone in his bedroom as a storm rages outside. A loud clap of lightning and another thunderclap engulfs the room in darkness. You look at the electronic lock on the bedroom door and see that it has been disabled, revealing that there has been a blackout.

You run out of the house where you have been imprisoned for days —, adrenaline pumping through your veins, just as John's car pulls into the driveway. The sound of John's booming voice calling your name through the storm is ignored as you sprint in front of the headlights and make a direct course for the woods.

As your bare feet slide and slip on the muddy, wet floor of the dense forest, you can hear his footsteps following you, and before you know it, you're falling. John grabs you while you're on the ground without hesitation, causing you to scream and kick.

"Stop struggling!" he growls fiercely, tightening his hold and stopping your pointless attempts to break free. "Did you honestly believe your naive escape plan would work?"

With a bruising grip on your bicep, John starts to march you back towards his remote house, pulling you along with him across the muddy landscape.

"Take a look at your current state. Was it worth it?" he asks, gesturing to your soaked and muddy state as you walk alongside him on your bare feet, shivering from your lack of protection against the freezing wind and pounding rain.

“I don’t wanna go back.. I can’t..” You sob, trying to grab onto passing trees in a desperate attempt to not go back inside his house. Your hands are all cut up as well as your feet and shins.You are practically begging him to not lock you in a room.

John is unfazed by your pleas, continuing to drag you towards his house with an ironclad grip.

“Your constant attempts to escape are getting tiresome. You keep pushing my patience,” he scolds, his voice gruff with irritation as he navigates through the rain and thick mud. “As if I'd let you leave after all the work I went through to get you here. You’re mine, whether you like it or not.”

He doesn’t so much as glance at the blood dripping from your hands and feet, his focus solely on getting you back into the house.

You keep sobbing as he drags you through his front door, he locks it behind him. You are mid mental breakdown, shaking and sobbing. The mental toll on you is obvious. He sits you down on the floor as he goes to get a couple of towels so you don’t get mud on the floor. You curl into a ball and sob into your knees, leaning against the door.

John returns from grabbing a couple of towels and throws them down next to you. “Stop the tears.” he commands, his voice firm as he looks down at you sitting by the front door, your shivering, shaking form curled into a ball against the wall.

He crouches down before you, wrapping a large towel around you, his cold and emotionless demeanour shifting as he takes in your pitiful state. Despite his harsh tone, he carefully dries your hair with the other towel before wrapping it around your shaking shoulders like a makeshift blanket.

He treats you like a troublesome child or one that is unwell and needs his care. He rubs your arms, trying to warm you up a little. John continues to dry your hair with the towel, a hint of tenderness in his usually aloof demeanour as he gently rubs your arms.

“You’re shivering so much.” he mutters as he notices how much you’re still trembling. He looks away, shaking his head in frustration. “It’s no use staying wet in those clothes, you’ll make yourself sick.”

He peels his suit jacket off and drapes it over your shoulders, its large size covering you almost entirely.

He picks you up and walks you upstairs into the room that he keeps you in. It’s a small, comfortable bedroom with a twin sized bed and a bathroom off to the side.. he even put in products that he knows that you use in the bathroom. Only a couple of products, ones he deemed ok for you to use, the rest are custom to you and very expensive. It's obvious that he likes to spend his money.

He says that you need a warm shower to get cleaned up. He tells you that he is going to get a first aid kit and clean clothes for you while you warm up. He leads you to the bathroom, you are still sobbing. You get behind the shower curtain to get undressed. You shakily drop the wet clothes in a pile right outside the shower, you make sure he can’t see you through the opaque shower curtain. You turn the shower on with shaky hands. You hear him leave to go get the things he said he would get.

A few moments later he returns, finding your muddy and wet clothes discarded in a pile just outside the shower while the water runs behind the curtain. He can hear your shaky breaths echoing through the bathroom as he sets the items he has collected down on the sink, before he quietly waits for you to finish your shower.

You scrub the dirt off of you the best you can, you don’t bother to wash your hair. You turn the shower off after you warm up a little and you turn off the shower. You immediately miss the feeling of the warm water on your cold skin. You reach for a towel from behind the shower curtain and you dry yourself off as tears still stream down your face. You also reach for the clean pyjamas and change into them.

John waits patiently outside the shower, leaning against the sink with his arms crossed over his chest. The sound of the water turning off signals your emergence and he waits idly as you dry yourself off and change into the new clothes he left you.

A few short moments pass before the bathroom door finally opens and he catches sight of you, now clean and dry and less dishevelled than before, though your tear-streaked cheeks and red-rimmed eyes show that the emotional toll of the night’s events has weighed heavy upon you.

John helps you onto the bathroom counter, noticing the many cuts and scrapes on your skin as he rolls up your sleeves and pant legs. It's then he spots the bruise under your right eye. The sight causes his expression to harden, a flicker of unreadable anger passing over his stoic features.

He pulls out a bottle of antiseptic and dabs a cotton ball into it before gently dabbing at the various cuts and scrapes on your arms and legs with a tender touch.

John glances at your tear-streaked face as he continues tending to your wounds, his expression stoic yet there’s a hint of a frown on his features.

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” he murmurs, his voice softened for a moment. “You’ve exhausted yourself. Nothing more.”

As he finishes wrapping some cut-up and battered skin with a bandage, he reaches out and gently wipes the tears away with his sleeve. You flinch and try to pull away, he doesn’t comment on that action. He shushed you, as if you are a tired child who can’t get to sleep.

After he’s finished bandaging your wounds, John gently turns your face towards him, his focus shifting to the growing bruise under your right eye.

“Stay still. I’ll get an ice pack for you.” he mutters, leaving the room for a few minutes before returning with an ice pack wrapped in a tea towel. He applies it gently to the bruised skin. You are crying, shaking from the force of your sobs, you lower your head.

John watches as your head droops lower, the sobs now reduced to soft cries. He notices your exhaustion and the tiredness that has clearly set into a weary frame.

“You’re exhausted.” he remarks, a hint of weariness in his voice as well. “You’ve got to get some sleep, sweetheart. You’re already worn to a frazzle.”

He steps closer, gently lifting your chin with his fingers so you’re looking directly up at him.

John holds the ice pack gently against your bruise while he lets your head rest on his shoulder, his other hand coming to your back in a subtle show of comfort. He can feel your weariness and exhaustion seeping into your very being as he supports the weight of your head against him.

“Just rest.” he mutters softly, his voice still firm but the edge has disappeared. “You’re drained. You shouldn’t have exerted yourself tonight.”

You cry into his shoulder, your tears making his dress shirt wet. He feels no guilt for keeping you here. He just doesn't want you to be hurt and upset.

John feels your tears against his shoulder, your body shuddering with each sobbed breath you take. Despite the absence of any guilt, his concern is evident in the way he holds you close and gently rubs your back, shushing you like a child.

“You’ve overworked yourself.” he murmurs, his voice having lost its edge entirely. “You hurt yourself running through the storm. Such a reckless girl…”

You feel your body go limp as you continue to cry, and your vision blurs. You are passing out, and before you can protest, you've fallen asleep in his arms.

John sets you down on the bed, carefully laying your limp form onto the sheets before gently moving the icepack away from your face.

He stands over you for a moment, his eyes taking in your exhausted and weary state, a frown forming on his stoic features as he watches you sink into the realms of sleep.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, his gaze not leaving your sleeping form as he remains still, almost like he’s deep in thought.

John glances at you for a few more moments before getting up from the bed, his gaze lingering on your slumped form as he walks out of your makeshift bedroom. He shuts the door behind him, making sure to lock it.

[badassxbirdy]

As disgusted and distressed as speaking to this thing made her, it being so quiet while it stared was somehow even more uncomfortable. The silence dragged on, feeling far longer to her than it actually was. All the while, she stared in return, watching it with tension rising in her body as it leaned back, waiting for it to say something. Anything. And yet she was unprepared when it looked at her again, the hate in those eyes giving her as much of a jolt as any of its anger had. Perhaps even more so.

Her heart once again felt as though it were trying to leap from her chest, pounding against her ribs, while her whole body screamed at her as it got up. Danger. Predator. Run. RUN. She very nearly fell off her seat in her attempts to shrink away from it, to gain some space that it wouldn’t allow. It was claustrophobic. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end, her hands gripping tightly to the edge of the bench.

…the only reason he's here with you right now is because you remind him of home.

“You wish.” She managed a scoff, but… ouch. Right in the self-esteem. Or lack of.

And there was another little pang of guilt. After all, wasn’t that part of why she was hanging onto him so desperately? Someone from before. Someone from before the life she’d built for herself had been shattered to pieces. Someone who didn’t give her that look. Didn’t give her the worried little glances that her family didn’t think she noticed. The ones that she pretended not to… But then it said something that pushed any little hint of her self loathing right back down.

Sasha.

The moment her name left his mouth she was back on her feet, actually having to remind herself that swinging at this asshole would only hurt Lance, not it. That it was Lance’s face, no matter how distorted it might appear. Amazing how quickly rage could rise in her like that. As if a switch was flipped, that anger was back. That anger that felt so much better than fear, so much more comforting. That anger that brought out the other side of her, the side that was so very dangerous when her powers weren’t safely locked away. Hell, it was dangerous even when they were…

She couldn’t give a shit about its digs at her, those similarities between her and Sasha, though they would no doubt play on her mind later. “You’re pathetic. She didn’t do anything to you. None of them did, you f—“ Her voice cracked, the lump that had formed there needing to be swallowed down. Three days. Three days of suffering, because of this vile thing. This fucking monster that wore her friends face. She very nearly faltered under that gaze, wanted to cringe away from the laughter. But indignation kept her standing firm, glaring up at Lance’s face. “The only reason he’s here with you right now is because you’re holdin’ his fuckin’ brain hostage. One day, he’s not gonna be scared of you any more. And that’s when you’ll have it comin’. You’re gonna pay for what you did to her, you’re gonna be squashed down inside him so small that ants will feel bad for you. You’re fucked.”

“I’m his friend. Caring about people has gotta be a foreign concept to you, but newsflash: that isn’t gonna change, no matter how much you want it to. So keep goin’ with all your speeches, and all that sour grapes bullshit. None of it means anything.”

The incessant stare was still there. Unwavering. Unblinking. Penetrating. And for the first time in this conversation, it was keeping quiet for a while. Didn't say anything, didn't reply, didn't react, just so it could keep up the staring all the more. It only stirred ever so slightly when it could feel how its host was starting to come to again, putting himself back together, piece by fractured piece.

And because of that it sat there another moment longer, closing his eyes. Leaning his head back, gently, carefully. Relishing how it could feel the effect it was having on Lance's body worming its way all over it ever so gracefully. All over his brain, inside his brain. Undoing damage, rekindling complexity.

It was only because it knew it was running out of time with her, that Lance's eyes finally snapped back open again, transfixed her again. Showcasing a very notable and sudden shift from obsession, mindless joy, ecstasy and love straight into utter hatred. It had only just made Lance's body sit back down, but here it was once again, getting it back up just so it could walk back over to her.

"Oh. How I. Cannot. WAIT....." it began, each word spat out like the stab of a knife, though the aggression was weirdly distorted by the way it was grinning at the same time, lacking the joy and amusement now. A predator baring its teeth before a meal.

It crossed the distance between them in all but three strides, perfectly underlining its words as well. Then it was standing right in front of her again, her friend's features distorted by its sheer madness and all that violence simmering underneath.

"...to find out just what and how much you can handle. It's gonna be a lot, isn't it. Oh, I bet it is. And I'm looking forward to that, Tyler."

It only stopped walking towards her when their bodies were but an inch away from each other, chasing her every movement, not allowing her an inch of direction.

"And you know what? I can handle the time it's going to take him to drop you like a wet paper bag. Which, knowing Lance, is not going to be long, let's not lie to ourselves, hm? Hell, I'm enjoying this part, too. You, slowly realizing that the only reason he's here with you right now is because you remind him of home. Of the before. And that once I take him back to his actual home, back to his real family, just the way I promised him, he's going to drop you so hard just like all the others" Laughter now, Madness making way for that joy again. "And you see, that's when you'll have it coming, bestie. Because that's when I know he'll handle it like the fucking champ he is. And that it's not even going to hurt him one. bit. Not the way dear Sasha did. You know about her, don't you? That cutsie little thing they had going on?"

It launched into yet another fullblown manic ramble, though this time it continued to lack the joy and the fun, was entirely deranged. The way it distorted his face into a pout at that last part until once more, it was laughing. Softly. Slowly. Almost velvety. Like sipping fine wine. Until it stopped. Just looked at her, through a twirl of magenta and chaos.

"Didn't even last three days by the time I was done with that one. Though I did try to take my time with her. For his sake. Not hers. But hey, I've learned my lessons. And now you? Oh, here we are, Sasha 2.0. Well, 1.5. No, 0.5, if we're honest. Small, feisty, 'just friends', all right. Hell, he even used some of the same lines on you and they worked, didn't they."

A big, theatrical wink, a single laugh, the face falling all over again, turning dead serious.

"I'm going to enjoy this redux. I can wait for it. I'm going to wait for it. Oh I can handle the wait. And when the time comes. Not if, when, ....boy, are you going to show me how much you can handle."

[crow-ur-beloved]

something something about the inherent tragedy of arthur bennet, arthur "call me sir until you earn my name" bennet, the vampire who hates vampires and refuses to get attached to them and participate in their societies, finding shilo and emizel. 2 young, naive vampire twins. and probably not realizing at first why hes so attached to them until it finally hits him that oh. they remind him of his younger siblings. and getting hit with that wave of guilt because hes the one that killed them. do you think arthur ever worried that hed be the death of shilo and emizel too

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

well, I am officially on to season 2 of "Miss Scarlet and the Duke", and based on the first episode at least, the writing does seem to have improved a bit?? this may be a case of First Episode of the Season Syndrome (added nuance and subtlety to kick the season off but immediately dropping back down to mediocre levels until the finale), but I'm hopeful that many of my complaints about the first season won't be as present going forwards!

but also, oww. the end... that was... yikes. my heart hurts now. 😧

[loco-warehouse]

Season 3, Episode 3, Part 2

Adrenaline rushed through Britney as she attempted to rip the arrow-staff away from her overall straps, only to result in her tearing it. Though things have wind down, survival kicks in as she flips herself over, dragging her shoes through the damp dirt as she pushes up with a messy upright position as she began running, running.

If there was one thing track has taught her, was how to be efficiently fast. 

Away with her backpack of rare comics of her father’s collection, the rifle, the ammo, the expired Rocky-Road candy bars– She needed to run. — Britney couldn’t stop, even if her lungs and legs were begging her to. Her thoughts slowly cleared up as the bushes became less and less as she spotted her grandparents' farmhouse in the distance.

Just as Mrs. Patel finished up grabbing the chicken eggs, she stopped in her tracks as huffing and puffing filled her vicinity. Turning, she quickly rushed over to Britney.

Slowing her run, she collapse into the grass to catch her breath. “Britney!” Mrs. Patel slid to her side, “Britney, what happened!?” --- “I think there’s more cryptic's out there, Pops…” Britney slumped on their couch, chugging her third glass of water as she sat in tattered clothes. Mrs. Patel placed cold towels on her limbs to help cool her down.

Besides them, Mr. Patel flipped through his battered journal. “Sugarcube, it doesn’t make sense…” Drawn photos of what he’s seen, flipping through depictions of Bigfoot, Mothman, the Loch Ness Monster. Other than the Loveland Frog, there was no turtle he was familiar with. “I told you to go hunt!” A hand slams down on the coffee table, startling the two. “Sweetheart, I know what I did wasn’t right but–” “No, YOU but–!” “STOP IT!”

The Patels snap back to Britney as she shouted, standing. “I’ve seen things like this before. And…” Reminiscing back to New York. The falling stars. The mansion. “...Somehow…” Dad. “I think I know where the turtle came from.” --- * When Donnie is looking up what might have happened with Mikey, he pulls up an article showing three depictions of the frogs. One of the depictions is what Mr. Patel turned in and reported. * During Napoleon's introduces Mikey to the frog tribe, there’s a moment where Genghis slyly states how there’s, “More of them than he anticipated…” --- “Guys, come here!” The Hamatos rushed towards April’s voice. “Look!” She pointed to the large, muddy footprints. “It has to be Mikey…” “Obviously, Red.” Casey annoyedly stated as Donnie smacked his arm.

Receiving an eye roll, they followed the tracks, eyes scanning the woods and watched as the steps transformed into a messy pile of dirt. Stopping, the five split off into different corners of the wooden area. “What…happened?”

As they began scouring the scene, April took notice of another set of estranged, petite shoe prints.

”Hey guys, check it!”

“WHOA!”

“CASEY!”

The turtles ducked as Casey whiped around with a rifle, pointing it directly at whoever was in its way. Raph came from behind him, snatching the gun from Casey hands to keep it downwards. “Are you crazy!!” Met with nervous laughter, Casey lifts his hands as a semi-defense, backing away from his pissed-off best friend.

“Wait,” Leo crutch forward towards Raph, examining the rifle. “What’s a gun doing all the way out here?”

Continuing her search, April peered behind a bush, finding a yellowed backpack. Raising a brow, she grabs the bag and shuffled through its contents. Ammo, comics, candy, and a…crumpled piece of math homework?

Taking a closer look, April scanned the red markings of error to find the name–

Britney. Patel. Stockman. 

Gasping, she folded the piece of homework, proclaiming, “I think something bad happened here…” 

“What is it, April?” Leo moved forward, watching as April handed the backpack towards him. Instead of being met with worry, she was met with Leo’s excited gasp, reaching into the backpack and pulling out, “Space Heroes issue #46 in mint condition! April, do you know how rare–!”

Glares. 

“Right, right, not important.” Leo cautiously put the comic back in the bag, before grabbing it and stating, “But I am taking this.” 

They all groaned before Donnie started making connections.

Eyeing the rifle and backpack, he bent back down to feel how fresh the dirt felt between his fingers. “Guys…do you think Mikey got–”

“No.” April interrupted. 

Back turned towards her friends, she walked further into the woods, following the continued shoe prints rushing from their crime scene. In a last ditch effort, she shoved the homework into her pocket before returning to the Hamatos. 

semi timeline uhh season 1 and 2 for britney and angela

Season 1 "I Think His Name is Baxter Stockman" Angela and Britney are introduced within' Baxter's morning routine. Baxter is shown getting ready for work, saying goodbye to his partner, dropping his daughter off at school, before proceeding to his workplace. Baxter returns home and let's Angela know of his termination. It leads to a mini argument, resulting in Baxter storming away from his apartment to his storage lab. Later in the episode, Britney and Angie are eating dinner while questioning when Baxter would be home. Angela turns on the TV, unexpectantly witnessing Baxter destroying his workplace in pure shock.

"Mousers Attack!" Baxter has started using his MOUSERS to steal local loot, trade with juveniles, and create a mini ring of his own without using his face. Baxter, through the power of high-power attorneys (thanks to Angela,) was able to remain in parole and escape jail time. Baxter hangs out with his family, taking them out to a dinner at a local diner with his sudden, financial increase. He makes false promises that he's handling the damages he's caused, and making a lie that his "new job" is calling him to come on out for a important technical report. He leaves as the two finish dinner and expect to see him the next day.

"It Came From the Depths" There's a off scene where Angela is sent a lawsuit letter, expecting payment from TCRI for Baxter's property damages. Angela looks tired from working overtime to pay off the attorneys, and Britney is coming home wanting her mom's and dad's attention and care, but watches as her mom attends to something else and looking around for her absent dad.

"The Pulverizer" During moments of isolation, Baxter takes calls from Angela. He lies that he's on a separate business trip with this "technological company," stating that he's gonna be gone for a week or two. When Britney takes over on the phone, she immediately suspect that he's lying, but doesn't push further on the issue as she brags about her track meet third place spot to her dad. Soon, the phone call is cut short, leaving the two to wonder about Baxter's position.

"Baxter's Gambit" The two aren't visually seen, but during one of Baxter's "doom" speeches to the turtles and henchmen, he gets a phone call suddenly. He pulls his phone out too fast that bounces between his hands, accidentally pressing the answering button and the words, "Hi daddy!" is heard over the speakers before being cut short. His captures are left confused before being thrown towards another trap, leaving them to question it later.

"Showdown Part 1/2" Both Angela and Britney have a mini moment of being trapped in the pods, before they're shown being freed from them post-Kraang takeover.

Season 2 "The Mutation Situation" Britney opens her window due to the falling, bright blue "rain," before introduced to a canister of mutagen. She takes it in, putting it on her nightstand as a sort of lava lamp. During the rainfall, she watches as mysterious figures and flying saucers fly over her apartment, in which she tries to ignore and hide away.

"Mutagen Man Unleased" Britney and Angela are shown within the backgrounds, noticing the turtles existence for the first time.

"Mikey Gets Shellance" Britney makes her last call to Baxter, talking about her recent track race place. and her recent grades. It was cut short, making Angela more suspicious of Baxter's duties.

"Target: April O'Neil" Angela, at this point, has hired a private investigator to continue searching within' Baxter's disappearance. (Side note: this investigator is Agent Bishop, who's trying to understand Baxter's connection to TCRI, and took the job to see if it would further benefit his investigation within' the Kraang.) Instead, Bishop reports back that Baxter's "job" and absence was mostly a lie, and was also left at a dead-end by the last time his family communicated with him. In-between what's going on, Britney breaks into Baxter's storage room lab. Using whatever is left behind, Britney boots up whatever mousers are left.

"The Kraang Conspiracy" Angela is given a short appearance. She's getting multiple calls from loan companies to pay off the damages that Baxter caused to TCRI. Angela enters her apartment, stressed as she's coming off her second job and negotiating with the people on the phone. Once she's off the phone, she turns and face a pissed off and tired Britney on the couch. Britney tries to talk to her mom, but is brushed off as Angela is focus on other things, before she throws a first place medal on the table. The two are left in silence before Britney stomps away into her bedroom. (btw want to mention that this is a child who wants her dad back and is looking for her mom for that same emotional support, and Angela is trying to make sure that Britney gets everything she needs even if it means sacrificing time with her daughter. neither are at fault, just a very tough situation.)

"Fungus Humungous" A reference back to "The Mutation Situation." During Mikey's nightmares from the fungus, he has a flashback of making eye contact with Britney. The memory continues as the raining mutagen canisters finish, witnessing her climb out and take one in as a lava lamp, before being ambushed by squirrelanoids. It's less of a actual presence in their lives and more of Mikey realizing they've been seen.

"The Manhattan Project: Part 1" The two aren't shown, only mentioned. Baxter makes a offhand comment about having "no one" and continues to ignore phone calls from them. He does this for their protection.

"The Lonely Mutagen of Baxter Stockman" Angela, after Bishop left her at a dead end, tries to continue to add to her "conspiracy board" of Baxter's disappearance. She looks tired and stressed, juggling between jobs, payments, and figuring out what's going on. When Angela is gone, Britney sneaks into Angie's room and pulls out her own evidence from Baxter's storage lab-- his criminal involvements. Soon, she makes the connection that Baxter is connected to working for an abandoned church. From there, Britney makes a plan to seek it out.

"The Wrath of Tiger Claw" Britney has a B plot of trying to break into the Foot Clan's hideout. Britney makes the conclusion quickly that it's protected to an extent by masked folks. After using Baxter's leftover mousers, tricks of being a girl scout selling cookies, to just spraying them with the same chemical Baxter used, she was able to temporarily break in. She was able to see more masked people, before noticing mutants walking around. Before being noticed, she's gone from the building. The henchmen do notice that a child has broken in, and is talked about among themselves, assuming it's the turtles or their companions.

Inbetween "Plan 10" and "Vengeance is Mine" @dongpound so sorry to tag you, I just want to make sure people know who your OC is ;o; Alec, who's aware of Britney's continuous involvement for a long time in figuring out the Footclan, finds out that she's trying to find their father. Alec does try to dissuade this child from continuing her search, but is met with a unrelentless determination to see what's going on with her father. To help protect this child, and prevent the others from going after them, they make the unwanted choice to reveal their father's fate to them. Alec turns around and realize she's gone. The episode ends with Britney running away from him, faster and faster before falling, getting back up, and rushing towards her home. Britney breaks down and not wanting to accept who her father is.

"The Invasion: Part 1 and 2" When the invasion starts, Angela rushes Britney out of New York. The two meet a halfway point to Angela's parents. Britney is handed off to her grandparents, but before any of them could convince Angela to join them, she's heading back to New York, convince she could find Baxter. Angela gets mutated.

[fairy-angel222]

“𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍’ 𝐏𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐃 !”

—how the jjk men punish you

ft. gojo, geto, choso, toji, nanami, sukuna

cw: smut, overstimulation, choking, recording, degradation, praise, spanking, edging, toy use, mommy kink, daddy kink, squirting, crying, double penetration

𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 ✮

Gojo’s a pleasure giver. But he can’t help it if pleasure turns to pain. So when you make him real mad, what else to do but to fuck you till you’re crying. Shaking, begging him to give you a break. Pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your aching cunt with no remorse.

“P-pleasee Sat-oruuu, ‘m sorry-yy.” you cried with a hiccup. “I can’t t-take it. ‘M close again and i-it hurts.”

“It’s all your fault baby. Couldn’t just be a good girl f’ me now could you?” Landing a harsh slap to your overly sensitive clit making you mewl loudly.

You were a mess. Your cheeks stained black from the running of your mascara. The sides of your swollen red lips filled with drool at your constant cries.

A choked scream escaped your lips when Gojo reached down to rub your clit. Your hands flying to his wrist in an attempt to pull his hand away. “Toruuu— uh uh, ‘s too s-sensitive,” you sobbed. Your boyfriend scowling as his other hand wrapped tightly around your throat.

“Unless you want your punishment to be worse, you better behave.” he growled out into your ear. You whimpered as you let go of him, the pace of his thrusts speeding up along with the movement of his fingers. “There we go, good girl.” he cooed.

The coil in your stomach was painfully ready to snap. Your eyes rolling back for what felt like the millionth time and your sobs becoming one with your moans as your body shook. Your pussy clenched down hard on his cock as you squirted, Gojo’s hand rubbing messily at the wetness between your folds.

Gojo laughed darkly, “Seven outa seven times you’ve squirted huh, three more to go and i’m at a new high score.” Lifting you onto your hands and knees despite your tear filled whines of ‘no more.’

𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 ✮

Geto’s pretty mean sometimes. When he gets mad he loves to humiliate you. Fucking your throat with a camera in your face, calling you the most degrading names. Then making you watch it when you’re done and threatening to make it public if you ever disobey him again.

“Say hi to the camera slut. Tell them how much of a stupid fucking girl you’ve been,”

You only whine in response, your eyes welling with tears as Geto pushed your head further down on his cock. A loud gag sounding from your throat as your nose pressed against his pubic region, your nails digging into his thighs as you ran out of oxygen.

You let out a gasp for air when Geto roughly pulls your face back up, the camera zoomed into your spit coated chin, your flushed cheeks, and your glassy eyes. His palm landing on your cheek in a hard slap with the sinister tilt of his head. “ Ready to tell them why you’re here like this?”

You hiccuped, biting your lip at the sting flowing through your face. “‘M a bad girl who doesn’t obey instructions.” you whimpered, looking up through wet lashes as Geto smirked down at you. “And ‘s my fault ‘m getting punished.”

“Good girl.” Going back to fucking into your parted lips, his tip hitting the back of your throat as he brought himself to release. Pulling you off of him and spilling his cum all over your face. “Now smile for the camera.”

And you did as told, giving the camera a small smile as the thick white substance dripped onto your exposed chest.

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 ✮

Spanks you till your ass is red. Making you count each one and starting again every time you pulled away or reached back to grab his wrists.

“Fort-yy,” you cried, your ass sore as your boyfriend soothed his hands into your flesh. A smile on his face as he nodded in approval. “You did well.”

Then to “reward” you he’s stuffing his cock into you, fucking you sweet and slow till you’re moaning his name. Your head falling back at the feeling of his fingers on your clit.

He fucks you just how he knew you liked it. Until your moans were getting louder and your legs started to tremble. “Ahh— Kentoo, ‘m close,”

Only to smirk down at you when he kissed down your neck, stilling his movements and pulling out of you as you clenched round nothing.

“Sorry sweetheart, bad girls don’t get forgiven that easily.” Walking away from you and leaving you whining with need. Your poor cunt in desperate need of a release.

Nanami’s expression doesn’t change when you beg him to finish the job. Sitting down and sipping his coffee as you attempted to rut your clit against his thigh. “K-kentoo please.”

“If you make yourself cum you get forty more.” he warned, watching as you whimpered pleadingly up at him. Your lips forming into a pout when he ignored you “You’re s-so mean.”

“Should’ve thought about that before you disobeyed me.”

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 ✮

Toji’s even meaner side comes out when he’s angry, and he loves making you cum till you pass out. But not with his cock.

He leaves you tied to his bed, a gag in your mouth and your hands and legs bound to each corner of its frame. A vibrator strapped to your sensitive clit with a smaller one in you against your g spot.

“W-wait daddy don’t go— pl-ease don’t leave me like this.” you cried, the older man only smiling before gagging you again, waving goodbye before exiting the house.

The toys pulling orgasm after orgasm out of your poor body, your chin covered in your spit and tears. You couldn’t even feel your legs as they trembled, muffled screams falling past your lips as your pussy gushed onto the bed, again.

Your body spasmed, eyes shut tight as you attempted to pull your hips away from the vibrations on your clit. A defeated sob sounding in your throat when you were stopped by your restraints.

At least two hours went by, and your entire body was numb, your eyes struggling to stay open and your breathing heavy as you continued to swallow your tears.

When Toji gets home you’re already gone, the sheets underneath you soaked as you lay limp in the position he left you. Your legs still quivering with your wetness flowing uncontrollably out of your red, swollen cunt.

Toji smirked to himself, that should have taught you a lesson.

𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 ✮

When you make Sukuna mad, he stuffs you full past your limit. “Kuna— don’t think it can fit. ‘S too much.”

“You better fucking take it. Since you wanna be so bad, i’ll make it fit.” Bullying both his cocks into your tight cunt, stretching you wide as he bottomed out in you.

You sobbed loudly, nails digging into his arms as you adjusted around his thick girth. Your head fuzzy and your tears not stopping as he chuckled darkly into your ear. “There you go.”

His hand reaching to wrap around your neck as he forced you to take him deep, your lips parted in silent choked mewls at the fullness. You’re letting out loud cries when he started bouncing you on him, his grin never falling as he thrusted up. Groaning deeply at how hard you tightened down on him.

When you get used to the sting you’re a moaning mess, your head thrown back as you filled the room with your noise. Legs trembling as Sukuna’s cocks both rubbed against your gummy walls.

“F-fuckkk— Kuna ‘m close.”

Sukuna scoffed. “This is a punishment, ya really think i’d let you cum?” he laughed loudly, eyes darkening as he tightened his grip on your throat. “Think again.”

Speeding up his pace until you were screaming, the coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap as you let your tears fall. “Pl-ease Kunaa. Needa cumm.”

“Yeah? Does my girl wanna cum that bad?” watching as you nodded with a whimper, pressing a hot kiss behind your ear. “Want me to let you cum?”

“Y-es— please.”

“Aww, well that’s too bad, if you cum you’ll never feel any of my cocks in you again.” he warned. A broken whine escaping your throat as your toes curled. You definitely wouldn’t last.

𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎 ✮

Choso is nine out of ten the one under you. But sometimes you make him really mad. And he punishes you the way he knows best.

His fingers on your clit as he lapped up your wetness, his face drenched in your slick and his eyes hazy at your taste. Your hands tied to the headboard above you as you tried to close your legs.

Choso whined into you. “Behave mommy— you always make me take my punishments, time for you to take yours.” His muffled voice against your flesh sending vibrations through your clit.

“Ch-oso— baby, you know am sorry, that’s enough.” you cried, your legs shaking as he sucked on your sensitive clit. “Choso,” you whimpered, “please baby- mommy can’t take it.”

He smiled widely, “That’s the point.” His hands hooking even tighter around your thighs. “Plus,” he groaned, “You taste sooo good.” Curling his tongue into your hole as you clenched down with a mewl.

“Gonna cum again mommy? Cum all over my face? Your pussy’s so sloppy.” he moaned, messily fucking you into you with his tongue. Your cries loud as you screamed his name incoherently.

Moaning as your sweet pussy gushed into his mouth, swallowing it down with a satisfied moan as he felt himself cum in his sweats. Again.

“‘M almost done mommy— promise.” he chuckled.

[bunnis-monsters]

NSFW

warning: yandere and obsessive behavior, mentions of death and violence, possessiveness

Yandere!Angel adored you with all of his heart, worshipping you as his goddess. He abandoned his creator, instead turning to you.

He kissed along your thighs, his strong, large hands holding onto your plump thighs as he spread them open.

He always looked up at you for permission, his chin resting on your leg obediently. Despite the fact he was nearly twice your height, he acted like a needy puppy before you, willing to do anything to please you.

“May I?”

You nodded, sighing happily as his tongue licked your soft, fat pussy, his fingers pumping in and out of you.

As he settled between your thighs, ready to worship his goddess, he began to remember how this all came to be.

He was supposed to be working on earth, helping guide humans to the correct path and keep them from sinning.

Instead, he ended up getting hurt, stranded on the side of the road with a broken wing.

He hadn’t been told how cruel humans could be.

So when you pulled over in your car, running up to him, he attempted to spread out his wings in a defensive display, his eyes shining bright enough to blind a man.

But his eyes dimmed and he yelped in pain as his broken wing moved. He fell back onto the ground, panting softly, looking up at you weakly.!

“Hey, hey…”

You knelt down, reaching out carefully to inspect his wing.

“Don’t touch me!”

You flinched, frozen in fear, his power causing you to be unable to move.

An angel’s command worked only on those pure of heart… so for a moment to examined you.

Soft and chubby with a kind face, like the cherubs he played with in heaven. As you did your best to bandage his wing, you noticed he was nearly twice the size of you… and very handsome.

“I won’t hurt you, I promise. See, it’s feeling better isn’t it?”

The angel watched you, his eyes wide with curiosity and wonder as you dabbed some soothing cream onto his swollen skin. You were being so gentle with him, guiding him back to your car.

The way you kept him flush against you, being as gentle as possible to make sure his wounds wouldn’t be irritated made him feel… strange.

He barely fit in your backseat, having to lie down so you could close the door.

“… thank you…”

He nuzzled softly against you, his undamaged wing flapping. “You saved me… you’re so kind, like an angel… like…”

You turned to see him staring at you, his eyes big. The golden orbs observed with newfound interest, watching as you grabbed a med kit to further clean and treat his wounds.

‘Like a goddess…’ he thought to himself, not daring to say such blasphemy aloud.

As he began to recover, you noticed him staring, following you with his eyes every time you moved.

“Need something?”

He quickly looked away, his cheek flushing a soft pink. His wing fluttered in both nervousness and excitement.

“I… don’t need anything.”

It didn’t take him long to heal, his body was different than any human or animal, but… he still feigned pain when you touched his now healed wing.

“Ah, it still hurts?”

You soothed him, letting him nuzzle into you and look at you with those big golden eyes. He was utterly entranced, wanting to worship and adore you… no one had ever been so kind to him!

So that’s how he ended up like this, begging for you to use him, to order him around and to let him love and protect you for all of time.

The only catch was… he was the only one allowed to worship the temple that was your body.

He pulled his fingers from your wet cunt, his tongue struggling to part with your puffy clit. It wasn’t easy, but he knew from your whines and tugging on his pants that you wanted his cock now.

And he would give you anything…

He pushed his cock past your wet folds, stretching you on him. The first time he worshipped you this way, he cried with you as your body tried its best to accommodate his large size. He hated seeing you in pain…

Your pretty, ample breasts bounced deliciously as he moved his hips, unable to stop himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

God you were perfect, his angel, his goddess… and no one would ever get to see the look of ecstasy on your face when you came.

A warm bath had you sighing in relief after, your angel happily bathing you, kissing your feet and scrubbing your body as gently as possible.

Though it was difficult keeping his jealously at bay… being with him wasn’t too hard. If only you knew how many men he had killed due to his possessive nature…

You’d never even think he was capable. He was an angel after all, with soft blonde curls and the prettiest, most innocent golden eyes.

And he wanted you to remain ignorant to his second nature. He much preferred worshipping you while you were relatively free and happy…

But he’d lock you up if it meant keeping you to himself~

The angel settled you down with him after your bath, covering you with his soft, feathery white wings. He kept you close to his chest, kissing your head.

Everything was just perfect.

For now…

(More?)

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @sunset-214 @strawberrypoundtown @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @unforgettablewhvre @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @midromiell @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog

[angelltheninth]

Sylus Doesn't Want You to Leave

Pairing: Sylus x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, being clingy, morning after, bites, not quite lovers, scratches, possessiveness, cuddles, teasing, gentle kisses, suggestive

A/N: New man to obsess over lets go!

You fully planned on sneaking out the moment you woke up, you even made sure to throw all your clothes in an approximately the same direction to make it easier for yourself. You almost made it out when a strong pair of arms pulled you back and locked you against naked chest.

"Don't you know it's bad manners to leave without saying goodbye? Especially after everything that we did last night. I have to admit I expected more from you." Sylus talks with his eyes still closed and his hair falling over his face. Despite how you pulled on it last night it still looks just as soft.

"Sylus, having sex doesn't mean we're now a couple. Let go, I'm gonna be late." You attempt to shrug him off only to feel his arms coil around you tighter. He let's out an amused sigh. "Sylus. I'm warning you."

"Oh I'm so scared." He said like the smug asshole he is.

Managing to get your lips to his neck you bit into it and made him wince but not push you away like you hoped he would. "I didn't take you for the clingy sort."

"I'm not really. But I had too much fun with you last night to not want a repeat this morning. There are still parts of your body that I have to claim." His fingers danced along your back, down to your thighs, grabbing them and spreading them over his hips. If it was you he didn't mind being in this position, tapped between your legs. "You look beautiful like this."

Sylus didn't try to hide the desire in him, or the possessiveness with which he groped your thighs and hips. Looking down at his chest and neck you noticed a lack of those marks he spoke of. It wasn't fair.

"Only on one condition. I get to mark you too." You rolled your hips against him, noticing right away how excited he got at the idea of it.

"That's less of a condition and more of a prize. But you got yourself a deal, sweetheart." He pulled you up further and kissed your chest uncharacteristically tenderly. "I think I'll start here."

[rin-may-1103]

College Rivalry with the Genius Toddler in the First Row.

My take on this prompt Requested by @purplereaderfans

Danny looked up from his paper, a bright green crayon clutched in his small hand. Jazz patted his head with a quick smile, pushing her chair in so she could start making her way to the teacher, something about the wrong definition if Danny had heard what she'd been muttering correctly.

grumbling, Danny shook his head in an attempt to fix his hair. he hated how everyone was treating him like a child, he was sixteen, almost seventeen for Ancient's sake!

sure, he looked like he was three, but was this really necessary? head pats, baby talk, dumbed-down explanations; it's like they don't notice that he's still mentally a teenager. Like, seriously?

Mom and Dad had been the ones who created the damn device, they should know how to fix this, but did they? no, because; "Aww, Jack, look at him! Isn't our baby boy just the cutest!" and "Why yes, dear, we should get more pictures! It's not like every day a parent gets to witness their kid's toddler years again!"

danny hated it, even Vlad was treating him like a baby! Danny never wanted to hear the man try and speak to him like that again. it might actually be his new nightmare fuel, you know if he wasn't still using what happened with Dan and Pariah to fuel his consistent nightmares, that is.

Danny was ready to start blasting people's knees the next time someone so much as even hinted at dressing him up again. thankfully, for everyone's safety, Jazz noticed he was still mentally normal. She volunteered to take care of him while their parents worked on a way to reverse what their new ghost machine caused. (though he doubted it would be anytime soon, considering the GIW was acting up again.)

which, by the way, apparently wasn't supposed to have de-aged him, but in fact, just you know, 'barrow' his naturally made ectoplasm and knock him out for a few minutes. Ancients, his parents were insane.

he should have known they were going to do something stupid, but no; he had started slacking after revealing his phantom form and getting accepted by them. Because, again, why would he need to keep an eye on them and what they make when they promised to never try and hurt him and his normal rogues again?

they're adults, they should know how to handle themselves. but no.

oh, ho ho, was that such a big oversight on his part. they were Fenton's, of course, he should have kept an eye on them.

no longer making ecto weapons, his parents wanted to learn how to help peacefully capture raging ghosts and how to help heal the injured ones (mostly how to help Danny when he gets hurt). Noble, right?

right?

Wrong. somehow, they managed to create a de-aging device when they were trying to come up with a way to knock out an angry ghost without hurting them. How? Just how?? and what do they do without even testing to see if it would even work? use it on him. because, oh, danny's half ghost, and it's only supposed to make him tired right now, not knock him out. it should be fine.

and now he's a toddler.

a three-year-old toddler.

"psst!" someone hissed, dragging danny's attention away from his crumbled crayon. blinking, Danny dropped the crayon on the table and grumbled. this was the seventh crayon this morning, he really needed to get his strength under control before someone noticed.

"psst, hey kid!" they hissed again, making Danny sigh. turning his head, Danny glared at the weird dude who kept trying to talk to him. The dude usually talked to him like he was an adult, which Danny appreciated, if it wasn't for the fact the dude was hellbent on figuring out danny's secrets.

all because Danny scored more than him on a dumb test.

"What?" Danny grumbled, wiping the crayon crumbs off his hands and onto his pants. the dude, Danny thinks his name is Tam or something, frowned at Danny, watching him wipe the last of the obliterated crayon away.

"aliens," he hisses, leaning forward so he could stare more intently into Danny's eyes. "that has to be it, you and your sister are aliens. probably from some planet that's more advanced than ours."

danny blinked, studied the dude for a second, and blinked again.

"no," turning back, Danny grabbed another crayon and started filling out the worksheet in front of him, making sure to use as little of his super strength as possible.

the dude groaned and slammed his head onto his desk, the sound echoing out and around the silent room like a gunshot. Jazz snorted, pulling out her chair and sitting down. "that one has got to be one of the worst theories yet," she chuckled, turning her body to face the dude.

"you seriously can't believe my brother and I are aliens just because we got higher test scores, Tim." Jazz explained, casually leaning sideways in her seat so she could see him.

the dude, Tim, just groaned, slamming his head back into the desk, his voice muffled, "I wouldn't have a problem with it if it was just you," Tim lifted his head, glaring at him as Danny continued to carefully fill out his worksheet. "I can accept the fact that I'm not the smartest person in the room, I don't like it, but I can do it. I even respect it, having this much knowledge takes a lot of work and dedication, but him?"

"He's three, Jazz. he should be just starting to figure out the names of colors, and noticing differences between things. not astrophysics-level math questions from an April Fools gag test that our Psychology teacher jokingly gave us." Tim's eyes somehow got even narrower as he continued his rant. Danny valiantly tried to keep himself from laughing; Jazz said it was rude to laugh at people, especially if they weren't mentally all there, so he couldn't laugh.

but by the ancients was Tim making it hard.

with a fianl dash, danny smiled triumphantly. Setting the crayon down, he gave the paper a quick once over before deciding he was finally done filling it out.

now, for the moment he was waiting for; turning in his seat, Danny excitedly held up his paper, "Look jazz! I did it!" he had finally managed to complete the paper without ripping the page! and he'd only broken seven crayons! it was progress! there was hope! but Tim didn't need to know that, no, he needed to think Danny was excited about completing the paper.

Jazz, who was just as much of a gremlin as Danny, smiled as she patted his head, "Good job Danny! I'm so proud of you! why don't you go turn it in, I'm sure Mr. Kronmatil would love to see it."

smiling, Danny turned, climbed out of his seat, and started to make his way over to the teacher.

Tim grumbled in annoyance, his crazed theories and curses filling Danny's ears like the sweet sweet sound of music. if there was one good thing that came out of this whole fiasco, it was that Danny was able to work on his studies and cause as much chaos as possible while doing so.

being treated like a baby was all worth it when Danny turned and spotted the same confused and crazed look Tim had been giving him all week. yes, being de-aged wasn't fun, and he didn't appreciate being partially interrogated every time he entered the same room as Tim, but man it was so worth it when he knew he was driving one of the Gotham bat's nuts.

all because he scored higher than him on a test.

He couldn't wait to see Tim's face once the scores were announced tomorrow. He was so going to tell Lady Gotham all about it later.

[simpjaes]

REALISTIC EXPECTATIONS ― S.JY

What should have never been an option became a routine over the years. This year is different though. It’s time to face what’s been done and put an end to it for good…except your step-brother Jake isn’t ready to face it, and your little boyfriend isn’t going to stand in the way of getting what he wants either.  or the one where you made a bad decision in fooling around with your step-brother during your early college days and he refuses to let you put an end to it. 

leave feedback and reblog to support me please! 

minors do not interact. 

WORDCOUNT― 8.9k

PAIRING― step-brother jake sim x afab reader (ft. boyfriend sunghoon)

WARNINGS ― step cest, dub-con/non-con, blackmail, nonconsensual phone sex 

NOTE― MIND. THE. WARNINGS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALSO, shoutout to anon for giving me this idea.reminder that this is not a representation of me or the idols as real life people. anyway, not proof read.

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― non con/dub con, normal size dick jake and mentions of bigger dick sunghoon, implications from jake that sunghoon is actually gay for him, camera use, fisting, degradation, manipulation, phone sex-ish, choking, suffocation, cum stuffing, cream pie, unprotected sex, forced blowjob, crying, break-up implications

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“You’re being ridiculous.” Jake scoffs, leaning against your bedroom dresser with his arms crossed. “We did it last summer, why is this year any different? We always do it.” 

You roll your eyes at him in an attempt to hide the guilt you feel, holding the blanket tightly to your chest in case he tries to pull them off of you again. Jake knows damn well why. Not only should it not have happened last year, or the year before that, or the year before that, but to actively and truly believe it’s something that can continue is something only a mad man would think. 

Not to mention, you have a boyfriend now. A real boyfriend, one who matters in your life.

“Sunghoon have anything to do with this?” He questions you now, reaching for the blanket and tugging. “Come on, playing around isn’t gonna hurt anything. It’s not like anyone is going to know anyway–” 

You huff, yanking your blanket up a bit to pull it from his grasp again. You get why he’s asking and why he’s confused because, well, last summer you were all over the idea like usual. You knew he would expect the same this summer, but honestly, it has to stop. Things have changed. Things needed to change. 

“Jake, we can’t be doing that stuff anymore.” You say as if it’s fine, a bite to your voice that hits him right in the gut. 

In all honesty though, you really do feel guilty. Like you’ve led him on all these years with his sweet, borderline boyfriendly words. You lived in the fantasy with him for a while, like it could work out despite the family ties. There’s a reality though, one that you found yourself living in upon meeting Sunghoon, and there’s a fantasy that you need to pull Jake out of. You feel awful, especially knowing there’s a part of you that would if you could. But…you can’t, nor can he.

Never again. 

Jake feels singled out at this moment. Like he’s the weird one for even asking when you were the one who came onto him when it happened the very first time. All those talks of “we aren’t blood related, it’s not that bad.” and “If our parents divorce, maybe someday we can go on a date or something–” Do they mean nothing now? You’re going to blame him for expecting it?

“Why the fuck not?” He narrows his eyes at you. “Gonna act like you weren’t the one who tried to fuck me at Jay’s party last summer? Acting all high and mighty now, like suddenly it’s so wrong?” 

You look away from him, feeling worse because he’s right. Given, the guilt should have hit you after the first time, but it didn’t. You had your fun pushing boundaries but now that graduation is coming up it’s like..it doesn’t feel right. Did he really just expect the two of you to keep fucking well into adulthood?  Did he expect you to get married to someone else and still get on your knees during family Christmas parties? 

Did he expect to be the one marrying you?

“We have to grow up.” You finally say, shifting your eyes back to him. “This is starting to feel really—gross.” 

“Hey–” He looks at you now, almost pleading. “It’s not gross, we aren’t gross.” He takes two steps towards the bed in a fit of desperation, leaning with his hands now palm-down on your mattress. But…when he tries to follow up on his words, he knows you’re serious.

Realistically, despite having been your step-brother since the beginning of high-school…actively choosing to fuck each other as soon as college started was maybe not the best idea. Hormones were high, the freedom to fuck was blatant, and well…it’s not his fault you’d walk around in all those slutty little pajama shorts and try to jump his bones every time you found yourself alone with him. If anything, you’re the one who pulled him into this. He really did think it was gross at first, but thinking with his dick outweighed that, and then his heart decided to play a part in all of it too. 

He really does think there could be something here if the two of you worked for it. After all, you’re entirely his type, despite marriage ruining it. The breaking of morals eventually became the best part for him, having what his father wishes he could have solely because you’re just a younger, hotter, version of your own mother.

You even said it yourself all that time ago when it first happened. “It’s ok jakey, you’re a guy. guys have needs.” 

Well, what about his needs now?! He was so happy to be able to come home and see you again. He misses you  so much when you’re both away at your respective colleges, and he thinks about you all the time. He should have known that something was changing all those months ago when you stopped texting him back as much as you usually would. Now what? He just has to accept that you’re done?

“You’re seriously not going to give it up?” He pushes his hands under the bottom of your blankets, quickly running his fingers up your legs just to try and encourage a giggle, or a smile from you.

That’s when he notes how you haven’t even shaved your legs. Which, it’s not like he gives two fucks on whether you do or not but like…you always shave. Your skin was always so smooth, plump, soft, and moisturized when you knew you’d be wanting to play around with him. And clearly, you don’t expect to be getting fucked this summer.

Ah, he’s starting to resent you.

“Does that boyfriend of yours know about us?” He finally says, standing tall at the end of your bed and looming much darker than his usual, bright persona. 

You stare at him, eyes widening. 

“Excuse me?” You furrow your brows. “Jake, what the fuck are you sayi–”

Before you can even finish or get a response from him, he’s leaving your bedroom and slamming the door behind him. 

Already you know this is going to be a long fucking summer. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake knew you were a smart girl. You always believe everything he says, but never once has he used that against you until now. That little mention of Sunghoon seems to have made you panic, and he can’t help but find it endearing that you took his threat so easily. Each time he comes home now, from hanging out with your boyfriend, you’re always sitting on the couch like a cute little puppy greeting him with a wagging tail.

If at all, he knows you’re doing it to try and butter him up. To distract him from what you’re taking away from him. Dangling yourself like nothing has changed but denying him time and time again of it. You’re nice, but never this nice. Offering to hang out, watch movies, go out. You’re promising just about everything to him except for the one thing he needs from you. 

He’s thankful though, with all circumstances considered, that the good ol’ parents don’t notice a shift in how you’re acting solely because the two of you have always been close. Even before the sex stuff. You were his best friend. He protected you from highschool bullies, potential assholes trying to steal your first kiss, virginity, and even the first experience of sneaking out. 

Back then, it’s not like Jake ever wanted to be your first kiss, the one to take said virginity, or sneak you out to parties you shouldn’t be at. Truly, he just wanted to protect you. It wasn’t until the two of you were away from each other for the first time as freshmans in college that he felt some type of way towards you. Which, again, was entirely your fault.

Ah, he still remembers that first summer back home walking into the house and being smacked in the face with a sensual, fruity scent radiating off of you. After not seeing you for three and a half months, he was entirely shocked at how much you had changed. You looked…confident in yourself. Like you’d been growing internally and learning what you want in life. He found it very attractive of you, believing that once you get a boyfriend, they’d be very lucky to have you in their life. 

Then of course, you’d bend over in those shorts and look back at him smirking. Like you only saw him as a man now, and not your protective step brother. You’d whine to him about ruined hook-ups, about the frat parties, about all the guys trying to touch you and wishing he was there to keep them off of you. All while…doing that. All while waltzing around like you’d invite him to do the same. 

And you did invite him. That first night has been burned into his memory. The fear, the guilt, the disgust, the love he felt for you. So quiet in his bedroom, giggling to each other with all the lights off in the silence of his room, trying to pretend it was only a one-time thing to satiate a specific need. There was nothing kinky, nothing weird outside of the dynamic of who you were supposed to be to each other.

It kept happening after that, and each time the guilt would wash away with the sweat that always dripped onto you from his temple. You could even say it was shy at first, both of you were very generous to each other. It only started getting dirty as the summers at home continued. 

And now…nothing? After all of that, nothing?! 

If you think you can change so drastically over a single semester, so be it. Jake can change too, and he already has. Both of you now, entirely different compared to that first summer together. You, all jittery and freaked out, him, with all the power. 

You though, truly you’re fucking panicking. If your boyfriend found out about all of this, he’d think you’re a freak. Or a slut. Or a piece of trash. Maybe all three of those things and then some. And you know, you’d think Jake is bluffing…really. Except you got a text from Sunghoon the same night Jake tried to get in your pants. You remember reading those words, the pit in your stomach digging deep. “Your bro is gonna come hang out with me for a bit, you’re coming too right?”

Nevermind the fact that Sunghoon lives an hour away from your hometown, where the two of you get to meet in the middle during active semesters on campus. What about the fact that Jake barely fucking knows him?! Through mutual friends (Jay and Heeseung) all three of you were aware of each other, but you’re the one who got the closest to Sunghoon. 

You’re his girlfriend now. Which, apparently demoted Jake from popular-porn-trope to actual step-brother. 

And that pisses him off. 

So, is it weird for Sunghoon to get a sudden hang out text from a guy he assumed is just wanting to get to know him? No. After all, he knows Jake is your “brother.” What he doesn’t and hopefully will never know is that you’ve fucked said step-brother.

 Is it weird that you don’t go with Jake to see your own boyfriend? Yes. Unfortunately, Jake basically demanded you “stay in your fucking place. if you wanna get fucked so bad, I’ll be home after.” 

Even Sunghoon doesn’t find it weird and texts you everyday as usual. It sucks actually, that he’s so willing to let you do as you please and trusts you to an extent that he doesn’t even ask why you don’t come with Jake. Instead, he’s too busy saying you should definitely join next time, that Jake is super cool and seems to like him a lot. 

The good news: Sunghoon offers no mention of knowing, so…it seems you really do have to stay at home. Empty. Wanting to be next to Sunghoon so bad but forced to deal with any oncoming feelings alone. 

Since when was Jake even capable of being so awful? Since when did he hate you so much?

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“Jake–please.” You beg quietly, shaking his arm gently in the soft light of the morning. Everyone is sound asleep, which must be fucking nice.

It’s been two weeks now of such loneliness, such lack of sleep, such intense need to just let yourself spiral and drown in anxiety. Jake is barely talking to you now, only giving you sarcastic and evil little smiles from time to time. As if to remind you of what’s at risk. Sunghoon is normal, too normal. So normal, in fact, that he tried to jerk off on facetime last night for you and you ended up crying and apologizing because you couldn’t even get turned on. 

Even if Jake hasn’t told him anything, your relationship is already starting to fall apart because of him. He fucking knows it too. 

“Please,”

“Please, what?” Your step-brother's sleepy voice croaks out, turning himself on the bed towards you with a single half opened eye. 

“I’m losing sleep, please stop doing this to me.”

“No.” He says now, closing his eyes again and turning away from you, nuzzling against his pillow without a care in the world. 

“Please.” 

“Fuck off–” He complains, throwing his arm behind himself to shove you away and surprised to find that you’ve crawled up on the bed with him.

Just like that night so long ago, the first time the two of you broke past any boundaries. 

“I’ll do anything.” You nearly cry, so sleepy, so anxiety ridden, so out of your mind at this point that you genuinely would do anything to feel normal again. 

“Anything?” 

You feel slight relief in his interest, nodding your head aggressively with a broken voice. “Yes! I promise. I swear, anything you want. Please, just–”

“Then get the fuck out of my room.” 

You know better than to disobey at this point. All you can do is sulk back to your room and hope that sleep overtakes you this time. If anything, maybe he will consider your plea in the morning.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s surprising, honestly. Jake didn’t even know he was into seeing you suffer like this, let alone having power over you. He spent so much time protecting you that he never realized how attractive it is to see you fear him. The joy that runs through him now, the orgasms he gets out of it, fuck. Who cares if it’s his own hand doing the work right now? With the thoughts of you doing “anything” like you said, being disgusting, begging, pleading, crying. He might be a little insane for you now, if he wasn’t already. 

And still even today, you look so desperate for any amount of relief. Jake finds joy in the fact that you can’t even go to your boyfriend about it. 

He’s never felt so powerful, truly. Especially now, watching you try to seduce him as if you didn’t deny him of it before. The slutty shorts are back. You’re not wearing bras anymore. You’ll leave the bathroom stark fucking naked if it happens to just be you and him at home.

Ah, heaven on earth. Honestly, his days are so fun now. Save for when he has to hang out with that fucking idiot of a man Sunghoon. What a loser, honestly. Openly sharing all the stuff you’ve done in bed with him like Jake isn’t your step-brother? If anyone is weird, it’s Sunghoon. Hell, Jake isn’t even sure now if the dude would care if he found out that you’ve ridden some related-by-marriage cock before. 

He hates hanging out with him. Always having to hold back the scoffs when Sunghoon is drunkenly slurring out more sex acts you’ve performed on him followed by a love confession and a whine of how much he misses you. As if you didn’t do all of that for Jake first. Ugh, he genuinely can’t believe that you’re even with Sunghoon at all. 

After a little while longer though, with the great days and the annoying hang outs, a nice month into summer vacation– Jake’s been ready to take what he needs. You’ve been begging for it, after all. He loves looking and seeing you so desperate for him to stop the mind games but goddamn it’s getting hard to think straight himself by now.

Thankfully, he’s thinking clearly enough whether it’s through his cock rather than his brain to come up with how he’ll go about it. He waits a little more, cock throbbing in his pants due to not allowing himself to get off in the past two days in preparation for this. 

Every night when everyone goes to bed, you call Sunghoon. And every night, Jake has listened. Tonight though? Sunghoon will be the one listening.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Like clockwork, the parents have gone to bed and Jake hears the hushed muttering just a room over. He’s already standing to his feet, shooting a hand directly to his bulge to adjust it with a silent groan in his throat. Before he can even leave his room he’s rolling his eyes back with another grope of his sensitive cock, almost unable to stop touching himself after denying himself of it. He’s practically drooling at the image of having you all to himself again. The anticipation he feels inside right now is insane. He feels his skin prickle and his eyes are barely able to focus on his own bedroom door out of sheer arousal of what he’s about to do to you.

He composes himself shortly after, as best he can anyway, tiptoeing to your room and chuckling at the way your eyes light up when you see him. He’s ignored you for too long. Not a single response to anything you’ve said to him, hell, he even stopped letting you see him look at you. 

Of course your eyes light up, it means he’s going to stop. It means he’s going to tell you what he wants. 

And you’re happy, even with Sunghoon on the line sweet talking to you about his day like usual. 

“Hoonie, can I call you back?” You ask quickly into the phone, only to see Jake take a seat next to you on your bed and shake his head at you. 

You tilt your head in question, feeling your heart thump in your ears to the point you barely even hear Sunghoon at all. 

“Keep talking to him.” He whispers to you now, nearly just mouthing it. 

You never knew you were so good at reading lips, but you listen to him. Furrowing your brows in question and adjusting your phone against your ear.

“Nevermind, we’re good.” You say in a voice too calm for Jake’s liking. 

And it’s like that for a few minutes as Jake lets you get into the groove of conversing with your boyfriend again before he makes a move. The move he makes? Leaning against you, pressing you back against your pillows, and licking your neck.

He smiles against your skin when he feels it prickle and lets out a whispered chuckle at how much he’s missed the taste of your skin. So warm, so soft. The fact that you’re letting him tells him all he needs to know, despite the way your shoulders stiffen, he knows you’re going to give him anything.

“Gonna let me fuck it again, yeah?” Jake whispers as he moves up against your ear, pinning your arms to your chest, forcing your phone closer to his mouth compared to yours. “Gonna let him hear it too.”

Ah, there she is. You, in all your glory, are already tearing up at the very idea of it. 

“Jake, no.” You say, holding your hand over the speaker and body language trying to twist away from him. 

“You said anything.” Jake corrects you quietly, slapping your hand off of the speaker and quickly thrusting his own hand between your legs.

He chooses not to be gentle with you this time. He’s not going to be what you’re used to, not after that shit you tried to pull with him. His finger pushes in dry, and he smiles at the way you hold your breath and try to squeeze your legs shut to stop him. Sunghoon on the other end is muffled, but still heard by both of you. 

You stay silent throughout his ministrations, pissing him off further, only making him move his hand faster, forcing a reaction, daring you to stop him. 

“Phone.” Jake instructs, loosening his other grip on your hands as a means to let you raise the phone back up to your ear. “Talk.”

You stare at him, feeling the burning between your legs of where your body has yet to do anything more than tighten around his fingers. Still, they drag painfully due to your body feeling no pleasure in this. In fact, you’re afraid. 

You’re afraid Sunghoon will find out, afraid of Jake, afraid of showing that you like what he’s doing, afraid of realizing you’ll always like this, afraid of losing either of them solely because you can only love, fuck, and be with one of them.

And it’s obvious who the one has to be because…the other isn’t possible. It’s just not. 

So, you try. You try to talk, try to relax, try to do everything Jake asks of you solely to prolong the situation enough to where you can find a way to put a proper, healthy end to it. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” You finally croak into the phone, having not heard a single word from Sunghoon this entire time and trying not to focus on that same drag Jake only pushes harder into you with that terrifying smirk. 

“I asked if that was Jake I just heard–” Sunghoon responded as brightly as always, bless him. 

“Speaker.” Jake mouths to you, and of course you listen. Reluctantly, but you still do it, shaking fingers hitting the speaker-phone button so Jake can hear what’s being said.

“What are you guys doing? Let me hear what?” Sunghoon continues. 

Jake flashes a full grin at you and wiggles his eyebrows before he’s pulling his fingers out, sucking them into his mouth, then moving back down with three before shoving them back in with even more force. 

“Yeah– Tell him.” Jake says as casually as ever. “Go on, let him in on the secret we’ve been keeping from him.” 

Sunghoon hears Jake all too well, but doesn’t question that it’s anything weird. If at all, he wonders if maybe you two have been planning something behind his back considering you never come over when Jake does. Which is actually weird, but he tried not to question it. He and you are practically attached at the hip during the semesters, so, this would make sense. 

Of course there is a secret surprise for him! 

“I–” You yelp both out of pain and unintentional pleasure, cutting yourself off in a gasp. 

You can feel the pit in your stomach dig deeper and deeper, arousing you when it’s the last thing you could ever want at this moment. You know Jake feels it though, with the slide of his fingers becoming easier, and that permanent smile on his face. 

Sunghoon feels so far away right now…Like, who are you kidding? He can’t get you out of this and you doubt he’d even want to if you were to ever even consider explaining it to him. 

“I–I miss you a lot.” You try to come up with words, missing him being all that you can muster up right now. 

Unfortunately, Jake’s scary smile is less terrifying compared to his face now, where he narrows his eyes and glares straight through you for saying such a thing in front of him. He’s trying to crowd four fingers into you now, making you squirm and squeeze your legs together again. He is quick to disallow you though, forcing one of your legs open with his shoulder and spitting directly on your stretched and pulsing hole. 

“I miss you too baby–” Sunghoon says in a slightly confused voice. “What else?”

You pause, taking a moment to feel Jake between your legs and how much it…god, it feels so good. But– you’re unsure of how to balance speaking with Sunghoon and dealing with Jake right now. If you have to deal with them both at the same time…this isn’t what you’d prefer. 

“I wish you were here right now.” 

Sunghoon smiles on his end, assuming Jake has now left your room due to the silence and lack of hearing him now. 

“Is Jake still around?” He mutters to you through the speaker, because based on your tone of voice, he knows what mood you’re in.

Jake shakes his head at you, encouraging that you lie before focusing back on watching the hole he’s missed so much. The one Sunghoon’s probably played with before, that fucking loser. 

“Nope–J–Just me!” You find yourself forcing a smile as you say it, just to hope your voice comes out in a way that sounds brighter than it feels. 

“You wish I was there?” Sunghoon says now, his own voice growing deeper. “Why’s that?” He spreads his legs out wide against his bed, assuming it’s about to be a regular session of facetime fucking. 

“Mhm,” You accidentally moan, a bit too obvious. “Just feel safe with you when I’m feeling like this.”

Jake rolls his eyes, slowly forcing his thumb in beside the rest of his fingers, growing more angry, more aroused, and more insatiable towards you. 

“How are you feeling right now baby?” 

“Empty.” 

“Wish you were full of something?” Sunghoon smiles, a cheeky voice calling out to you. “Of me?”

You groan at that moment, all of Jake’s fingers stretch you open until you feel knuckles trying to force past the boundary. Your hands shake at the feeling as your eyes cross momentarily, tears prickle from the pain but it feels so…good. And only a moment goes by before you, quite literally, kick Jake away. 

The sudden emptiness you get from that feels so much better, but Jake is too quick to get back up. Fire in his dark eyes as he grabs you by the ankles and pulls you roughly down the bed. There is a small sound that escapes your lips at the action, almost a giggle. You’re quick to tighten your lips though, trying to will your body to stop liking the way Jake is being with you right now. You don’t want this, you don’t like it. You never should have in the first place, and to be honest, you’re trying to force yourself to believe you’re making the right choice in continuing to deny him of this.

It’s only natural that your body wants it, just like it was natural to kick him off of you from the pain, right? And then, Jake reminds you of just how much you regret denying him the first night back home, because he's leaning over you so fast, hugging your waist and forcing all five fingers back into you. 

You kick, squirm, whine, and ultimately shout out a “No, no, no!” despite your hips chasing up to let him, almost to invite him. And–oh, fuck. You forgot Sunghoon can hear all of this. 

“Baby?” Sunghoon’s voice rings back in your ears. “Are you okay? You’re already touching yourself? Why do you sound so–” 

Jake’s own ears are ringing watching your body fight your brain. You still want him. He can tell by the way you look at him with those tear-filled eyes, with the way your pussy is dripping for this, the way your hips beg him to keep abusing you. Who is he to deny you? He has never denied you pleasure. So, he tries to force more, more, more into you. There’s a boundary here, your pussy clenched so tight around his fingers already, but you want him to keep pushing until he breaks the boundary. You want to feel the pain of it and…finally, he does get it in. His entire hand being gripped so tightly that even he seethes out a pained moan for you.

“Fuck–” He holds his fist in place, removing himself from your waist to look at you. “You really took it all.”

There’s tears in your eyes by this point and you can’t tell if it’s from realizing how much you need Jake, or the fact that Sunghoon definitely knows something is up. No words are coming out though, you’re more afraid to speak what you feel than you are of Jake right now.

“Jake?” Sunghoon questions, confused. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” Jake responds with a smile instantly, staring right at you as he begins to fuck a size far too big into you, watching you bite your tongue to keep from showing him how much you love it. 

“Wait–” Sunghoon continues with a pause. “What’s going on?” 

“I couldn’t help myself.” Jake smiles at you, wiggling his eyebrows again. “After all those things you told me about her, I guess I needed to see for myself.” 

And then, you moan. That searing pain inside of you somehow subsides, shaking legs and hands are gripping onto Jake in his entirety now, you’re practically drooling for it.

“I guess you were right.” Jake continues. “She really can take a lot, huh? Bet your dick didn’t feel this good for her though.”

You’re truly unable to comprehend most of what’s happening right now, even the phone vibrating in your hand as Sunghoon goes silent and instead, hangs up before instantly facetiming you. You’re so hyper-fixated on the feeling of knuckles dragging against your tightly clenched walls, choking back every sound or word you want to scream out. 

Jake watches as you cry a bit harder now, probably a bit too overwhelmed with the situation. Like the good step-brother he is though, He’ll take care of it for you, of course he will. 

“What’s the hold up?” Jake laughs, halting his hand as he reaches for the phone and instantly answers it. He stares down as you continue to fuck yourself on it, smiling at your brief whine before he speaks into the receiver with a confident voice. “Cat’s outta the bag.”

Sunghoon is there on the screen, witnessing the way Jake angles the phone more at himself and your hole than your face. His entire fist has disappeared inside of you, glistening with a sticky mess that spills out of you. 

Nothing else is said as Sunghoon stares at it. Jake being a cocky bastard and sticking his tongue out like some idiot frat boy, and then? He hears you.

“Jake, stop!” You cry out. 

He doesn’t stop, in fact, he fucks his fist into you quickly making damn sure Sunghoon can not only see how your wet spurts out around his wrist, but hear it too. 

“Stop what? Showing your boyfriend what you really want?” 

“Hang up the phone!” You cry out again, showing Sunghoon that perhaps…you don’t miss him at all.

Jake isn’t doing anything you don’t want. You just don’t want your boyfriend to witness you be so honest with yourself. 

“Awh,” Jake pouts now, angling the phone back at himself and feeling proud of the way Sunghoon appears to be entirely shocked, mouth hung open, eyebrows furrowed. “But he needed to know, baby, didn’t he?” He adds now, lying the phone down briefly to pull his cock out. 

“Come on now, don’t be shy.” Jake continues with his confidence, picking the phone back up and angling it towards you. 

He intentionally drags his fist in and out of you a few more times before gently pulling it out, moaning at the way it sounds, obsessing over it really. Sunghoon watches in horror at the way you squeeze your eyes shut, sadly wondering what Jake must be doing off screen for you to look so fucking guilty. The horror only grows when he has to watch Jake’s cock come on screen, pussy soaked hand jerking himself off before shoving the head right against your lips.

God, you know Sunghoon hates you now. 

Jake knows it too, and doesn’t care as he uses that same soaked hand and pries your lips apart before pushing it into your mouth. He thrusts forward too quick for you to take a breath, and you feel the leaking tip hit the back of your throat in a way that makes you choke and gag around him. 

Your eyes shoot open, looking up at him and barely able to comprehend the camera just inches from your face. 

Sunghoon has seen you look up at him like this too. Why aren’t you fighting Jake though? Why are you willingly gagging, choking, and drooling all over yourself with such a forceful fuck to your face? You always pull off of him when he tries to thrust even a little bit…but you’re..

“I–” Sunghoon goes to say, still staring at you and the way you’re shamefully getting your mouth fucked open. “That is fucking disgusting.” He finally lets out, but he can’t look away. He doesn’t want to see this but…he can’t bring himself to hang up. 

“Yeah, that’s what she thinks too.” Jake chuckles with a heaved breath, enjoying himself, now angling the phone at his face. “I think she likes it though– wouldn’t you agree?”

There goes the camera again, pointing right at your choking mouth. Jake pushes all the way in too, letting your nose rest against his pelvis and moaning loudly for Sunghoon to hear.

“Shit, see? She’s not even fighting it.”

Sunghoon can’t tell only because Jake doesn’t let him. You’re gripping Jake’s hips and trying to push him out of your mouth, but he stays in place, enjoying the way your choking and suffocating throat jerks him off better than his own hand ever could. 

The best part? He knows you’re only pushing him away to breathe because you weren’t fighting at all at first. In fact, he felt you silently hum against him like you want his cock so bad. So, he’s not actually lying. He just thinks it’s polite to not let Sunghoon know how you’re suffocating right now. 

Oh well. 

Only after your eyes start to fog over and roll back does Jake pull out, relishing in that wet gasp you lend. He looks down at the phone now, wanting to make sure Sunghoon witnessed all of that before realizing he fucking hung up.

Who the fuck hangs up on imagery like that? Fucking idiot, is what Sunghoon is. 

To be fair though, Sunghoon hung up shortly before Jake pulled out. He had to force himself to do it, because he didn’t quite enjoy the way his cock jumped at the image of his girlfriend letting her step-brother fuck her mouth like that. He’s entirely blindsided. Like, not only are you cheating on him, but he had to see it like that?! In 4k?! God, his stomach would be in knots to catch you like this with anyone, but the fact that it’s with…Jake. Of all people.

You’re fucking your own brother. 

None of that matters to Jake though, nor does it matter to you at this moment as the tears continue to pour from your eyes knowing that Jake did this on purpose and for a reason. It’s insane how kind he is to you now that Sunghoon isn’t watching, actually. Lending you a deep, meaningful kiss before sinking back down the bed and resuming his previous position. 

“You liked this.” He comments, seeing if his hand will still fit, and moaning when it does. “You’re so fucking wet it’s insane.”

God, you know he’s punishing you yet you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it because already you can feel the bubbles in your stomach threaten an orgasm. Proving to both Jake and yourself that…you do like it. Never have you even imagined wanting a whole goddamn fist in you before now but–you more than like it. You love it. 

In fact, feeling his hand dragging in and out of you now makes you forget about the way you nearly just died with a cock in your throat. You’re already moaning again, actually. 

And fuck, you promised you’d do anything to keep this a secret, and while doing that anything for him, no matter how willing, he still fucking told. He fucking showed the dirty acts to the last person on earth you’d ever want to see, hear, or know. The crying is a given, from both the anxiety, the fear, and the pleasure because you can’t stop the oncoming orgasm or the love you have for the man giving it to you either. 

The way he holds you through it should disgust you, with his fist buried so deep your orgasm comes in long, drawn out and painful waves. He grips onto you though, whispering more to himself against your thigh than to you, “I’ve got you. I’ll always have you, it’s okay.” 

You don’t want to melt for him, but you do. Even through your ringing ears it’s like your body instinctively hears his whispers when you shouldn’t. The words bring comfort, reminding you that he’ll still protect you even from Sunghoon and what he feels about this situation. Even from your parents, from outsiders, from everything. 

The orgasm feels like it bruises your brain, a throbbing headache coming shortly after when Jake takes on a more gentle persona and pulls his hand from you. He inspects your open cunt for a moment, seeing how wet it is inside for him before it pulses closed and he averts his gaze to his hand. 

Glistening, so wet. You needed that, he thinks. The reminder that he’s the only one who can love you in more ways than you truly need. 

“You did so well.” He compliments, crawling up and over you to wipe those tears with the same hand. 

You don’t move away, if anything you need this comfort now more than anything because you simply don’t know what to feel, or think, or admit right now. You think Jake already knows, he wouldn’t need you to say it simply because he’s always read you like a book. 

“No more pretending you don’t want this.” He says now, in a darker voice. “Even with Sunghoon listening, you moaned my name. I don’t think you remember doing that, do you?”

You cry more, closing your eyes tightly and pretending like Jake’s hand is Sunghoon’s. You really liked Sunghoon, genuinely thought you could have a future with him. Even so, pretending that Jake is him doesn’t bring safety because you almost would prefer it be Jake. A hand you’re so familiar with. 

He had been so awful to you recently, and only now do you realize that…maybe it really was for your own good.

“You don’t need him.” Jake says now, adjusting himself between your legs.“Not when you have me. You know I’ll take care of you.” He continues, slipping his cock deep into your already loosened hole. 

He’s shocked that you still manage to be tight after all of that, but he guesses that’s just how pussies work. Or how yours works, anyway. He knows it more than he knows his own cock at this point, which is insane. 

Feeling him inside of you, so familiar, slightly smaller than Sunghoon– it’s…comforting. The tears that spill from you now are more for missing him than anything. You can’t help it when you wrap your legs around him or throw your arms around his shoulders, shivering and clinging to him like he’s your last line of sanity despite everything about this being entirely insane. 

“Jake–” You moan at how he fucks you, so much softer than with his hand but…normal. Like the first time you ever did this with him. “I really want you but,”

Jake pauses, feeling that same pit in his stomach at how you say those words.

“What you just did to me could ruin my life.” You finally say, still clinging, not at all asking him to stop. “What you’re doing right now, will ruin my life.”

“Don’t be silly. Your life will be ruined without me, baby, you know that, right?” He says, reminding you of who has the power by quickening his hips and pointing his cock directly at your already sensitive g-spot. “You can’t say no to me, you tried and still you want me.”

You nod your head in agreement despite wishing he was wrong. 

“We can’t.” You say to him in a half-groaned whisper. “I’m begging you to stop.” 

If at all, you’re just begging him to stop being what you want. To stop being able to have a hold over you like this. To stop being everything that Sunghoon isn’t and still being the most desirable man in your life. To stop being your step-brother. To stop being a taboo in your life, if only to become someone you’re allowed to need like this. 

“No.” Jake says, unknowing of what you’re actually asking of him. “I’ll never stop.”

With those words, you moan. He’s promising something that neither of you should feel or need, but you accept it. Shocked at the way you feel him inside of you like always, no pain, or lack of feeling from the previous size fucked into you. It’s just…Jake. Intentionally fucking you harder to punish you for words that are actually fighting more for him than against him. 

“Okay.” You whimper, falling silent with your broken voice fading into nothing but cries of the inevitable. 

For all Jake knows, you’re asking him to stop this. What he’s doing to you right now, not for anything else that you meant it for. For your own sake, because you know that after this, you truly may not be able to pull yourself from this fantasy with him. Technically, he’s showing you that he’s willing to hurt you to keep you. To take it from you if that’s what it takes to get what he wants. And that hurts a lot to know, a pain deep within you making you spiral a little more than you ever thought you could.

He’d really go as far as to keep going when you’re crying for him to stop? If just to show you that he…loves you? No, maybe just that he wants this, he wants you. 

You want this, but it’s the fact that he just knows. Even if you say no, even if you beg or plead for him to stop, he’ll just keep going because he knows better than you that you’ll always want him in return. Even if you’re lying to yourself, even if you were able to truly convince yourself that this isn’t at all what you want. Even if it feels like Jake is committing atrocities right now, he knows he’s not. He’s not, even if you say he is. 

And at the end of the day, right now. He truly isn’t. 

You can feel your heart rotting at all that’s lost now. A life with someone normal. A life where you’re normal and can be seen hand in hand with the love of your life as you grocery shop, or get ice cream, or even just take the future dog on a walk. Your dreams are dying, and you can’t stop them. 

You feel a burning pain throughout your body at the force of him now, seemingly trying to fuck your concern away from you. Only now do you open your eyes to look at him, he’s just shapes now. Your tears are messing up the normal clear view you’d have, but you can tell he’s smiling lovingly. 

He doesn’t care that he just ruined your relationship, he doesn’t care that you’re his step-sister, he doesn’t care nor think of how the future could work if he were to keep trying to follow this path, and continue to make you realize you’ll willingly walk down it with him….not when he’s getting this from you. 

Not when he knows that, now at least, he’ll always get what he wants.

You cling harder to him now, sucking your bottom lip into your mouth as you lift to his shoulder and tuck your face there, replacing your lip with his warm and pulsing skin. Jake is pleasantly surprised by this, after all that he did to you, he really thought he’d have to work harder to get these lips to willingly suck on his skin again without him puppeteering you. 

“Yeah?” He turns his face against your forehead as you suck, still crying and tasting the salt from your tears mixed with the saliva you’re drooling onto him. “Sunghoon can’t make you feel this good?” He continues to talk himself up. 

You remain silent as you try to drown out your thoughts with the pleasure he gives instead, feeling the way his normally gentle hands are rough holding you up, feeling the way your body shifts with each thrust up, hearing the way he breathes for you, speaks for you, and moans for you. 

You hate to say you love it right now. Hate that you let your dream of a normal life die so easily. Hate you love him enough to let him do this to you, really. 

“Jake–” You hiccup, exhausted. “I can’t believe you’d go this far.” 

Only in those words do you realize how taboo and…erotic it is. To have a man willing to not only claim you as his own through forcing jealousy on your boyfriend and pain on you, but you guess the borderline sexual assault is another thing. 

It’s not that you’re into it. In fact, you’re terrified of that. But it’s just…the way he knows you is attractive. The way he will protect you from any situation he caused…turns you on, even if he’s the one you need protecting from. God, the way he’ll fuck you through all the lies you tell yourself. 

Shit.

“I’d go further.” He chuckles, out of breath as he chases the expanse of your clenched walls. “Would’ve brought you to his house and fucked you right there at his front door. Let everyone know.”

You shake your head out of fear of that situation at first, and then suddenly find yourself smiling and losing your mind a bit. God, that would be hot if it were like, you know, not something that would get you disowned by not only family, but literally everyone aside from Jake. 

“Should’ve seen his face, baby–” Jake moans just thinking about it, loving that he has what no one else can have. “Said he was disgusted but…I think he was turned on. Really, couldn’t look away from you sucking my dick like that– God,” He cuts himself off by grabbing at you, shoving you back down and into your pillows, both hands running up your shirt and pushing it up to your collarbone. He gropes and pinches at your tits, half of his plush bottom lip caught between his teeth as sweat drips into his eyelashes. 

“Couldn’t tell if he wished he was me–” A sarcastic laugh. “or maybe even you.” His moans continue to mesh with his laughter, now moving one hand to your neck and leaning down to lick against your lips with another pointed thrust. “I’d never fuck anyone better than I’ll fuck you though.”

“Gotta say, if he wanted it bad enough, he’d look pretty choking on it too. Never as pretty as you.” He continues talking, and talking, and talking. 

You don’t really process his words though, or recognize if he’s being truthful or just making shit up, nor do you care. To be fair, there isn’t anything in this world left to care about aside from him now. Not yourself, not Sunghoon, your parents, or anyone out wandering the world right now. 

“Stop–” You moan at the way he rubs his pelvis against your clit with his now, deeper thrusts. “Stop fucking talking about him.”

He smiles wide against your lips in victory, feeling his muscle tense up at you asking to forget about Sunghoon. And so, he listens to you for the first time since you’ve been home, he fucking listens. 

Jake says nothing now, instead he focuses his hips and notes how now, your pussy feels too used. Or maybe his cock is just numb and oversensitive, he’s not sure. It’s not hard really, to reach down and shove three fingers into you alongside his cock, offering extra sensation to both his balls and the underside of his length as he continues to fuck into you with what he can only assume to be a painful stretch. 

His body shivers with an embarrassing moan at that, rolling his eyes back. 

“You hate him?” Jake says, but it sounds more like a plea for you to agree as he chases an orgasm far too fucking close. 

You don’t respond because at this point his words are just there as fluff in your head. You’re more focused on the insecure feeling inside of you at how he’s had to use his hand to help him get off. It...feels so bad knowing that you can’t give him what he wants after all this. After you promised. And, so, you build up the courage to lift quickly, catching him off guard, and hug him around his neck. 

There, his fingers skew slightly, to the point it’s painful for him to keep them in place and he’s forced to pull them back and instead, hold you up in his own hug as he spirals. God, he missed you so much. Look at you now, after trying to deny him, deny yourself of wanting this. You’re bouncing on him like you always have, frantically moving your hips with no rhyme or reason, solely to get him off. 

He lets out a loud moan, not caring if your parents wake up to it. Not caring about anything but the pussy choking his cock out now. The change in position offered a new form of tightness, and he doesn’t need an extra boost of pleasure anymore. Not with you breathing against his mouth like this, still crying, except now it’s like you’re crying because he hasn’t gotten off yet. 

“Yeah, that’s it.” He nods his head, lips playing with yours with each nod of his head as he squeezes his eyes shut. “Fuck, you always know what I like.”

Just like that, all of your insecurity is washed away. You feel him twitch inside of you, and the way his hands nearly bruise you in this hug feels…right. It’s what you need, what you want. 

“He ever cum in you?” Jake pants out, noting the way you aggressively shake your head in an answer. 

And normally, he’d pull out. Normally, there’s a condom involved in this. Not today though, even as you note the familiar sound choking from his throat, and that even more familiar twitch of his cock. You try to pry yourself away from him, palms pressing on his chest as you argue. 

“Jake! Pull out, Let me up!” 

He doesn’t let you though. Instead, he grabs both of your wrists and presses you right back down on the bed, overpowering you through his orgasm and fucking all of that cum right into you. Intentionally, with purpose. 

“No,” He croaks out in a breath, still lost in his orgasm. “I won’t.” 

You try to wiggle away from him still, despite knowing he’s already started cumming. What’s the point now if not just to still have some type of control over your own body? He, again, doesn’t let you, pressing your wrists painfully into your own stomach, forcing you to feel each pulse and spurt of him for the first time through the pressure of his hold.

He’s never done this to you before, then again, This isn’t the same Jake you’re used to no matter how much you try to relate the feelings and love to the Jake you were with last summer. And…you need to lie to yourself right now at how good it feels to have him fuck his cum into you well past his orgasm, because admitting it would be the last thing you could do tonight to really throw you off the deep end. 

He makes you admit it though, still fucking his cock into you regardless of how it’s growing softer and softer by the second. Doing it solely because he knows more cum will drip out as he shrinks back down. He wants to feel each second of your walls clenching, trying to push him out and knowing it never can. 

He holds you down harder now, wincing at his own sensitivity as he plays with himself inside of you, lending pained chuckles and eye rolls with each sound of disgust you make towards him for it. And only after he slips out and can’t manage to fold it back into you does he really look at you. 

Tilting his head with an innocent smile on his face, he releases your hands and shoots his own up to your face, cupping both cheeks before leaning down and kissing you as hard as he can with what little breath he has left. 

“I deserved that.” He says between kisses. “You deserved it.” He sounds slightly irritated saying that part, but his kiss stays gentle and sweet. “You owed me this.”

You’re not sure if he meant any of that, but you find yourself agreeing.