#because what does smoke do? make it hard to see

[themetalvirus]

how egghog silver and shadow realize something is wrong and how they run away. 2k words.

while eggman is gathering the chaos emeralds for a nefarious plot, silver enters the room where he's keeping them on his own. he thinks about something amy said about them being able to turn thoughts into power. if they're so powerful, maybe he could use them to see the future himself…

he puts his hands on them and thinks and hopes. he's trained and honed his powers for this, so it HAS to work. and it does – a portal opens. after a moment's hesitation, he takes the two chaos emeralds he used through the portal. he's glad he did, because the portal closes behind him.

suddenly he can't breathe. there's too much smoke and ash in the air, and his sensitive lungs are immediately very unhappy. as he's coughing and hacking, he notices just how barren everything is. how orange and dark. there are no people here, but there seems to be a lot of metal and machines. he wants to know what happened so he can better prevent this from happening, and in turn prevent his birth parents from suffering, prevent the pain of what happened to him from happening to anyone else by any means necessary. he seeks out a library or really anywhere with books. books are more reliable than people anyway. he's in luck and finds an old library with much of its delicate inventory undamaged by the fires, and he gets to work picking out everything that seems relevant in his pk before opening them in a circle around him twilight sparkle style and gets to skimming.

there's a lot of things about daddy. they are not flattering. there are a lot of mentions of him and his brothers. how they were such powerful tools that they were the key to eggman being able to destroy the world. he couldn't have done it without his sons.

silver doesn't take this well. he believes the book is propaganda or lies, but the more he reads, the more affirmations there are that this could be true. he's in denial, but he makes sure to put the books somewhere they won't burn before he heads outside and tries to find material proof that it's lies.

he flies around in a desperate bid to see anything but metal buildings and scrap, but he can't. everything left behind is familiar to him in style and structure. he comes across a large drilling machine that spans the area of a small city and the oil oozing out of it is burning brighter than anything else he's seen, fueling the flames of everything else around it. it has eggman's logo still clearly emblazoned all over it.

his heart drops, he panics, he covers his mouth and hyperventilates and tries to come to grips with this but he can't. the kicker is that he knows eggman has time traveled before and told his sons it was too dangerous and terrible to join him. eggman had to have known this and he didn't care. he knew and he didn't care. silver caused his own abandonment, helped kill his own parents he'll never meet or remember, and his daddy wanted it that way. he can't take it anymore and goes back to... his time? but it isn't his time, is it. his time is on fire and the world is dead. his time is nowhere.

he tries to tell his brothers about what he saw, but shadow is too walled off to talk to and sonic believes what he saw was misleading or a lie. shadow says that silver said himself that the chaos emeralds turns thoughts into power. it could all be in his head.

help isn't here and he can't let dad know what happened. he leaves the next morning after a sleepless night for a "mission", but he's just looking for amy. she's the only person who could possibly believe him and HELP him. his family wouldn't do anything.

this whole time he's in emotional anguish, crying so hard he's thrown up a few times already, and when amy sees him she thinks he's faking it like he always does. until he starts gagging and begging. he would never lay himself this low for a lie. concerned, she takes him to tails, who is having a much harder time believing that this is real and not a trick to find out where his workshop is or take advantage of him. he's a bully and a tyrant and he wouldn't feel safe having silver in his house. amy forces him to accept anyway. amy awkwardly offers silver new clothes, and he accepts. they're ill-fitting and not his style but he's already got his fur matted with tears and rank with Things so he gives up his dignity. tails is unhappy, silver is panicking and throwing up all night while amy tries and fails to comfort him, and eggman becomes deeply suspicious of silver not coming back. especially when he can't track his precious son boy's location. hmm.

he pulls shadow and sonic into his main Scheming Room and say anything silver told them was a lie and a trick. amy was brainwashing him. they need to report any sightings to him immediately and bring him back at all costs. meanwhile silver has told amy about eggman's scheme and that eggman already has a few emeralds. his first order of business to save his future is to steal them back. tails has a conversation with him first. if you want to actually save your future, you'll be completely out of any time. an anomaly. your parents would most likely never exist.

silver thinks this over for a surprisingly short pause in the conversation, looking at his hands. he says yes, i'll accept it. i don't want what happened to me to happen to anyone else. ever.

jumping forward a little bit, the first time silver sees his family again they're surprised to see him out of uniform and actually helping amy. he pleads with them, saying they've got it all wrong, they're destroying the future and the world, but they all say that can't possibly be right. the future must be destroyed because we haven't tried hard enough, haven't gotten rid of amy, or because YOU abandoned us. silver openly cries, and eggman rolls his eyes and says he isn't going to fall for it. silver chokes on his own spit and sputters about how he was abandoned and they don't care, they don't care that everyone was dead and the sky was blotted out with thick smoke, they didn't care that his lungs are permanently damaged just from being in that world as an infant, they don't care.

shadow and sonic are confused and worried and try to step over to comfort him however they can, but eggman says boys. here. now. they can't disobey. they get into the eggmobile and leave him on his own. and that's what he thinks is his final goodbye to his family, home, and previous life. shadow complicates things.

-

shadow is unsettled by silver's distress. privately, he believes that silver wouldn't lie to them and wouldn't leave them over a lie. sonic repeatedly tries to soothe shadow's apparent worry, but it isn't working. despite everything, shadow hopes that things will just go back to normal, silver will realize how foolish he's being, and he'll come back home and everything will be okay.

while eggman is working on getting the chaos emeralds back from amy and friends (hes ultimately unsuccessful this time), he seems very busy and distracted. more than usual. shadow is particularly sensitive to eggman's moods, so it's apparent to him. on a day where he's keeping watch while eggman works on some sensitive files and plotting work, eggman gets up and leaves the room to check something. shadow is left alone with a computer with every single permission possible, including the files on him and his brothers. he wonders what eggman could have lied to him about. he pushes through fear and sits down in a chair much too large for him and opens up the files labeled with his name. there's a lot of files from someone named gerald. design notes labeled to be about 65 years old now. there's police filings, reports, personal journals, scientific studies, newspapers, obituaries... there's a strange fixation on a little girl named maria that died somewhere called "the ark".

she was only 4.

he's never met this girl, so he feels no more than a vague sadness. this whole thing is so... odd. but all these design notes are about him, specifically theories about how he would grow up, and the practical designs seem to all be based around a fetus, and there's some stuff about aliens, and... eggman did not make him. eggman stole him.

right as he realizes the gravity of this, eggman clears his throat in the doorway.

so? what do you think about what you've learned? shadow is frozen as eggman steps closer. does this change anything?

eggman watches closely. shadow is sweating and he swallows and he says no, nothing changed at all. eggman says good, good. you passed my little test. do you think so low of me that i would leave my computer unattended without reason? you silly little thing.

and that's that. shadow doesn't change anything about his routine, but he's deeply troubled by several fundamental truths he knew about himself were wrong. he was lied to for so long and eggman didn't care... that pings another worry of his. silver was right. he knows a lot more than he did a few months ago, but he assumes things will be normal. though he's not able to do his job as well, and seeing silver again makes him scared and want to go with him and say he was right all along, and seeing rouge makes him tempted to leave with her, and he has to shake it all off because he really doesn't want to get in trouble.

it's monthly checkup time, and eggman is being very thorough. a bit more thorough than usual, but it's okay, it makes sense, it's been a while since the last full physical. this is normal. eggman starts sterilizing him, helping him clean himself thoroughly down to the skin, and this is normal and it's fine. eggman puts on a full sterile hazmat suit in blinding white and this is normal, he's put in a hospital gown and plastic booties and that's normal, and eggman is leading him by the shoulders to the back room he's only been in for surgical upgrades and that's normal.

eggman opens the door, still firmly holding his shoulders. the long-term stasis chamber with comfortable cushions is open and waiting like a casket. the screens around it are alight with information, some of which he's seen before. notes on memory extraction.

eggman left the notes up on purpose. this is shadow's final test of loyalty, staring into the abyss. shadow does not pass it. he teleports away, using all his strength to teleport over and over again to somewhere far away, not fussed about where it is in particular as long as it's AWAY.

he ends up in the woods somewhere, dazed and confused and looking for some kind of help, any help at all. tails reports to amy that there's been odd energies somewhere in the deep woods and she should investigate.

she sees shadow in a hospital gown, ekg/telemetry electrodes stuck all over him, fur ruffled and smelling like chemicals. his eyes are somewhere else, and he begs her for help and shelter because he needs to GET. AWAY.

she takes him to tails, tails is unhappy, silver is shocked but can't have a proper reunion with shadow because he seems to be in shock and he isn't talking much. silver is still once again in tears. tails takes shadow to the guest room where silver was staying and he falls asleep on the floor not long after, a spare blanket draped over him. he always did steal sleep whenever he could. when he wakes up, he's disoriented and doesn't believe this is real. he wanders around until he runs into tails, and tails says he's not dreaming. welcome to team amy. the world pops into clear focus for the first time in over a day and he collapses as he finally absorbs what happened to him and how badly this could end. dad was going to kill him. he can never go back.

[theinfernalcalypso]

Was torn where to post this (here because im insane and yeah this is insane and nuclear tbh, or the witchblog i have bc witchcraft) but like

If you have a witch moving out of your house (specifically in context of a break up), don't "accidentally" put your own shit in with theirs because maybe, MAYBE they'll look at it and reconsider how they feel or even just be careless because idk you somehow mix up your underwear into theirs when they're packing

Because you just gave them a tag of your energy. The closer you've kept it (i.e., YOUR UNDERWEAR?) the more potent whatever they can cast on you is

I'm just saying

From personal experience

As the witch

Because my ex is 100% a fucking dumbass

And would actually forget I'm a witch just because I didn't do spellwork very often

And tbh, was originally getting irritated at his shit being in mine when unpacking

But now? A golden opportunity lay before me like a gift, and they say to take it easy sure

But I sure will be fucking taking it, with a side of Trinidad scorpions and carolina reapers

[tojbnuy]

mini part 4 for gojo day 🧁 next part will probably be the finale. thank you for showing best friend toru so much love even tho he is fairly toxic. art by @ _3aem on twt!! part one part two part three

warnings: a very vague birthday bj, some feelings? MDNI

birthdayboybestfriend!satoru who waits with his phone in his hand ignoring all his other messages and skipping to your contact because he knows you’ll say it at bang on midnight. he is then smiling so hard at his phone suguru actually gets worried.

bestfriend!satoru who obviously has party of the century going on at his place. being the star boy he is, he is soaking up the attention. however he has been dyingggg for your arrival, he makes sure to tell every girl that approaches him that he is booked and busy for today.

bestfriend!satoru who tackles you into a massive hug when he sees you and picks you up just to make sure everyone else sees this. you’re wearing white (his favourite) and he knows for a fact you did that on purpose.

bestfriend!satoru who disregards everyone else���s presents for the time being so he can give you and your presents his full attention. unfortunately he is nosy and had scrolled through your google tab last week so he already knew what two of them were going to be.

bestfriend!satoru who (staying true to character) asks you for a birthday kiss. ‘can i have my last present now baby?’ and then he’s pressed up against you and his familiar taste is all you can take in. ‘toru people can see us’ ‘let them see baby’

bestfriend!satoru who wraps your ponytail around his fist whilst you’re talking. sometimes even pulling you back a bit so he can take a long inhale at your neck.

bestfriend!satoru who is actually very annoyed that he got a hot tub because now there were multiple gawking at you. suguru even wolf whistles at you at one point just to rile him up and he got a mouthful of tub water because of it.

bestfriend!satoru who catches you whispering to suguru and finds he definitely does not like the look of that. you had a worried expression which he made a mental note of to ask suguru about later.

bestfriend!satoru who casually gropes at your chest. (you allow him of course) (however you put an end to it when his fingers start to creep into the material of the lace covering your breasts.) (there were simply too many people present but satoru was content with just holding your tit) (stressball >__<)

bestfriend!satoru who makes his closest friends go round the tub and say what they like about him most. suguru is the only one who gives him a slightly heartfelt message, sukuna calls him ugly, toji calls him an airhead, nanami says he is ‘special’ (whatever that means?), shoko says he makes her want to smoke. and then it’s your turn and gojo actually tears up at your beautiful words. your voice and your eyes staring only ever at him saying that he is your person and you really do think he the strongest individual you know. (then he grabs your face and kisses you and the crowd boos until he stops)

bestfriend!satoru who is dead set on you staying with him for the night. ‘you’re not gonna cuddle your best friend on his birthday?’ and how could you everrrr say no to that.

bestfriend!satoru who has his head on your chest, you hands running through his hair and scratching at your scalp. his thighs are covering yours and he lazily kisses at your collarbone. the tension in the room is thick. you can both feel it. it was simply a game of who would move first. satoru knew you wouldn’t, always the more timid and shy one of the two so he took it upon himself to drag his fingers across the waistband of your shorts. ‘wait toru we can’t i’m, i’m your friend?’ god you were too sweet for this earth. ‘it’s okay baby. we don’t have to, but no one’s gonna know. just us.’ and he litters even more feather light kisses to the spot right below your ear until you were letting out soft little sighs. ‘then. then i want to do it, yk since it’s your birthday.’ he knew you weren’t the most conventional best friends but this, this was further than anything you’d ever done before. and he was on cloud nine.

bestfriend!satoru who was now realizing that he had never experienced true joy before this moment. before he had felt your velvet soft lips wrapped around his tip. your tongue licking at his crown so softly, so sweetly. he’s always been a moaner but now he had no shame in the sounds that were leaving him. ‘that’s it baby, just like that. that’s my girl’.

bestfriend!satoru who was a head pusher. he let you set the pace in the beginning but he was growing desperate, something he hadn’t experienced before. your little mewls as he holds you in place right at the base of his dick. your nose nestled against the faint hairs there, and your tears dropping directly into his skin. he had given you the chance to move but being the amazing best friend that you were you swallowed everything he gave you, even opened wide and let him take a look, that to make sure. ‘fuck baby that was the best gift ever’

bestfriend!satoru who snores like a truck directly into your ears and grinds his hips into your thighs whilst he sleeps.

taglist : @haruhatake @moncher-ire @startwithrecords @ranatherealestsigma @chjinua @sukuxna0 @suechii @whozeurdaddy @purp1eha1o @greensunflowerjuna @jjkysnk @tibibibi123 @missthatgirl @macchiatoast @adanfore @namjooningera @jaeminsmilk @tojicvmslut @hachichann

[catdia]

Sevika with a Chubby S/o

Sevika loves bigger women, something about round tummies and thick thighs makes her go wild

calls you her peach because your nice and juicy

runs her fingers along your stretch marks, grabbing fistfuls of your flesh

chronic ass slapper and biter

uses your belly as leverage to fuck into you with her strap

constantly tells you that she wants to get you pregnant if she could

that you’ll make a great mama for her children

Sevika is much leaner and muscular, so whenever you get the chance you trace her abs with your finger tips

amazed by her raw powerful body you get an excuse to make her move furniture or heavy boxes

Silco adores you, so does Jinx. he asks Sevika how are you doing and genuinely cares about you (especially when you brought cookies for his daughter). because he has seen first hand what your relationship does to Sevika

got into a pretty nasty fight? Sevika punches his goons half to death. and looks even scarier than ever before

you patched up Sevika’s poncho after it got snagged on a broken window? he could almost see a sliver of a blush on her cheeks

his right hand woman has no idea the effect you have on her does she?

Sevika even toned down drinking and smoking

“my lady chews my ear off if I smell too much like a drive bar.”

you call her beautiful as you kiss her countless scars and rub the shoulder of her mechanical arm

“i’m everything but beautiful, doll.”

something primal takes over her as she sees how different your bodies are. you so soft and plush, her’s hard and brutal.

treats you like an absolute princess. buys you what ever you want. gives you what ever you want.

you are the one that cuts and styles her hair. she even asked you to shave her bald once and you had a heart attack.

Sevika plays dirty in card games. for every round she wins you take off a piece of clothing. one time she left you completely bare and you were pissed because you saw her cheat more than once.

ate your fat pussy out as a form of sorry

when she tells you to sit on her face, you SIT on her face

no “I’m too heavy” bullshit. if she couldn’t handle a little weight on her then she wouldn’t have the privilege of calling you her woman

and have you seen her?! Sevika is a tank. she can certainly handle herself (and you) more than anything

sleeps nude, with her chest pressed against your back and always a hand on your lower tummy

walks around the apartment shirtless all the time. flexes her arm when she catches you staring

uses your arm fat as a stress ball. It “makes her think better”. her words not mine

you patch her up after rough deals, crying and yelling at her for being too reckless. so selfish

Sevika kisses you. nose running down your neck, smelling your sweetness. she hates seeing you in pain. especially if it was caused by her

“i don’t like it when you cry.”

[bi-writes]

ghost is off limits. not just emotionally or romantically, but physically. you have seen the aftermath of when someone so much as bumps into him or brushes past his arm in a tight hallway. they learn very quickly that lieutenant riley isn't to be touched, not even a little, not at all. (18+)

ohhhh but not for the medic. your touch is clinical. necessary. ordered. ghost glares, but he does not tell you to go away when you make your way into captain price's office. it's late; they just touched down not even ten minutes ago, exhausted and burdened by an op that took a few weeks of their absence.

he smells like sweat, like grime, and you can taste the sand in the air when you take a seat next to him. even seated, he is taller than you. he takes up a ridiculous amount of space, dwarfing the office chair he sits in. you set your kit down on your captain's desk, turning to face your lieutenant.

"uhm...could you show it to me?"

he huffs in annoyance before he pulls his tactical vest over his head, tossing it onto the floor. you swallow, blinking, focusing, as he unzips the jacket he wears and lets it fall at his feet. your lips part a little as he reveals the strength of his arms, tight muscles straining against the shirt he wears and showing off the sleeve of ugly military tattoos that are sunburnt along one arm.

gorgeous, giant man, but then your eyes take interest on the nasty gash along one arm, a jagged wound that stretches nearly from shoulder to elbow. it looks angry and irritated, much like the look in his eyes.

when you put your hands on him for the first time, he flinches. not because he is in pain, but the feeling of skin against skin is so foreign, like a wound of its own. you blink up at him, soft and sweet, and you show him your hands, what you're doing with them.

"just going to clean it out and stitch you up, lieutenant. promise i won't take too long."

but he likes it. the way your soft palm cups his scarred forearm, running a cloth over the lines of blood that trace along the length to his wrist and drip onto the floor. the warm drag of your fingers pushing his skin together so you can hook the needle through and stitch him up solid and effectively. those easy, gentle strokes, threading through skin as you would hem a skirt, a pattern that you have not forgotten that is now being weaved onto his very body.

he'll wear your stitch pattern like a patch he has so dutifully earned. and you will wear his marks just the same, yes she will, the good girl that she is.

when you finish, he grunts, flexing his fist to gauge the tautness of his skin and the way the wound burns as he stretches his arm. he tilts his head to the side, glaring. your hands rest easy there, still pressed up against him, and he nods at you expectantly.

"open y'r mouth, sergeant."

and you do. because he's your lieutenant, and he has given you an order. he hikes his mask up, revealing a disgusting grin and the sharp edge of a torn lip, a face mangled beyond recognition. when he spits in your mouth, he tastes just as you expected--like sand and smoke.

"now swallow."

and you do, but not because he's your lieutenant, it's something else, something more. not afraid, but intrigued, somehow not put off, but needing sustenance.

when he crowds you in the infirmary later that night, you don't understand. you don't understand the sudden need to touch, the way he grips your ass, the nasty way he bites at your jaw and pushes your pants down your thighs and puts his cock between your thighs.

he promises he won't fuck you, promises he'll be nice this time, but it's hard to discern between reality and heaven when he lets the tip catch on your clit with every frantic stroke. you squeak with every rough thrust, pressing your ass against his pelvis as you arch your back, wanting to see his face, wanting to kiss him, wanting to make this tender and soft and a little romantic, but that isn't ghost.

ghost is mean. ghost isn't a giver, he's a taker. ghost is made of sharp edges only, broken glass on all sides, it's such a shame his cock is so nice and so big and so good, lieutenant, please, i need it--

"need more," is what you beg, even though you know he can't give it to you. you know, but he does it anyway, he slips a big hand between your thighs and opens you up, and you cry when he finally sinks deep, hoisting you up, your back tight against his chest as he learns how quiet the voices in his head are when he's so deep in your pretty, pretty pussy.

he slips another hand around your throat, baring it, giving himself room so he can bite at your neck and lick over the salt and brand you with the evidence of the reprieve he refuses to give, but you don't care, all you can do is smile.

you know his secrets now, the things he would never tell, the things he can't say out loud.

it's almost frightening that you don't really care if he has to kill you to keep you quiet.

[nereidprinc3ss]

ghost in the machine

in which spencer reid coaxes reader out of an episode of extreme dissociation after a triggering therapy session

angst, fluff warnings/tags: established relationship, accidental mild injury, blood, unspecified trauma, but at the very least implied past emotional abuse, anxiety, reader has ptsd and is in #denial about it a/n: I'm hellaaaa chill sometimes I just lose hours of my day if I think about my childhood too hard

It’s normal for you to get home and immediately wash your hands—a habit you picked up from Spencer. So you walk through the door, and you close it, and you take off your shoes and you hang up your coat and he calls hey from the couch. 

You don’t respond. Or do you? You’re not sure. But you’re washing your hands, and then as you go to dry them, you notice your coffee mug from this morning, still sitting on the counter. 

I should wash that, you think, and so you pick it up and you take it back to the sink. 

Sink. Sink equals washing hands. 

You’re washing your hands again. 

What did you mean to do?

Dishes? Right. The mug is… gone, seemingly, but there’s a knife in the sink, too—you pick it up, and you’re about to rinse it off, and then it’s clattering from your hands. Somebody is pulling you back from the sink. 

Someone is saying your name a whole bunch of times. 

You turn, blinking, and there’s Spencer, glowing softly in the yellow light of the kitchen. 

He looks so concerned. He strokes your cheek but you feel it less than you seem to observe it from a distance. Says your name one more time, eyes softening a little. 

“What?” You murmur, as if in a trance. 

He blinks. 

“You dropped a mug. You’re bleeding.”

Well, that’s news to you. It seems like a preposterous claim, but you look down, and sure enough—that coffee mug which had disappeared from the sink is in pieces on the floor and the tile is smeared in red. 

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry? Are you okay?”

“I’m bleeding.”

His brows furrow. 

“Yes, I see that. Do you remember breaking the mug?”

The mug. Oh, yeah. Now that you think about it—yeah, you do remember dropping it. Watching it break into a hundred pieces. That noise, of dishes breaking and clattering—suddenly you inhale deeply. 

“I broke it,” you whisper. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry I broke it—”

The memory of the sound is cacophonous, deafening and completely inescapable. 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay. Nobody’s upset at you. It’s just a mug.”

But that doesn’t make it any easier to lower your shoulders from where they’ve tensed to your ears, because once a dish breaks, there’s always a second of terrible, tremulous silence, before it explodes and somebody is screaming, painting every wall in the house with their rage. You squeeze your eyes shut. I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry, you whisper, wordlessly, just as you did so many years ago. 

“It’s just a mug,” he says again like that will help. “I’m gonna clean it up, okay? It’s gonna be like it never even happened.”

And that does provide some comfort—the fanciful idea of undoing. Of closing your eyes against the something terrible and wishing it away like you’ve always done and having it actually be gone when you open them. Spencer must be magic. 

“I’m gonna clean it up, but I want to make sure your foot is okay first. Is that okay?”

You take a deep, shuddering sniffle and nod, but that warm fog is pouring down the corridors in your brain like smoke in a maze. It obscures everything. Your feelings. The pain. The fear, thank god. There must be shards in your foot. Spencer apologizes from below as he peels off your bloodied sock, where he’s pulling the first aid kid from under the sink and working on you, but you don’t feel the pain. You don’t feel anything except the pressure of the bandage around your foot as he stands. 

He says your name again. 

“Hm?”

You’re scaring him. That much is evident from the look on his face. You wish you could stop, but it’s like you’re in a dream again. The brief clarity that moment of panic had provided is gone. 

“Can we just—can we go sit down?” He asks, already putting a hand on your waist. Sure. Why not. He supports your weight as you hobble around the broken mess on the ground and all the way to the couch. Oh. It’s too soft. Too forgiving. You sink into it too deeply, like you’re being swallowed, or breathed into a pair of monstrous lungs. 

Spencer is crouching in front of you, pushing hair from your face. 

“What’s going on, baby?”

“Nothing,” you murmur. “I’m fine. I just… dropped… a mug.”

“You didn’t remember or notice that you dropped the mug until I pointed it out. You washed your hands twice. You were about to try and wash a knife without a sponge.”

“No, I’m just… I’m tired. It’s…”

You trail off again, any further attempt at a meager excuse walled off a thick swirling fog. It’s like you’re trying to walk but you can’t see more than a few feet ahead of you. You can hardly think, let alone speak. 

Spencer frowns deeper. 

“It’s what?”

You pause for a long time. 

“Um… Don’t remember.”

“You’re scaring me,” he whispers, and again you wonder why, only you can’t really wonder at the moment. “Did you hit your head? Where did you come from?”

“When?” You ask. 

“Just now. When you came home, where were you coming from?”

“Diane. I was, um—I was at therapy.”

“No stops on your way home?”

“No,” you say. You’re pretty sure. You actually have no memory of what happened between leaving Diane’s office and walking through the front door. 

“Did you feel okay before you started therapy?”

“… Yeah.”

“So this started after?”

“What?”

“Your inability to put a sentence together, honey. You’re really out of it.”

“Oh.” Your eyes sting. It feels like an insult. “‘M fine.”

He reaches up to cup your cheeks. 

“What did you and Diane talk about?” He asks gently, a little less anxiously, like he’s figured out what’s wrong with you. 

At this, your mouth goes dry. What was before swirling fog has become a hulking black wall of solid obsidian. There’s nothing. 

“Um…”

“Can you remember?”

Something hot traces the length of your cheek from your eye. 

“No,” you whisper, sounding utterly distraught. “No, I can’t remember. I can't remember anything.”

More tears are coming now. How could you forget? You’re trying so hard to remember. How did you even get home?

“Okay. That’s okay, angel. You don’t have to remember.”

“I’m sorry. Something’s… wrong…”

“Don’t be sorry. I think you just got really overwhelmed at therapy and now your brain is trying to protect you. Can you tell me what you’re feeling in your body?”

Your… your body?

Nothing. It feels like nothing. 

“Why don’t you try and take a deep breath? I’ll do it with you.” He brings your hand to his chest, and your finger twitches against the hard abalone button. His chest expands, and you try to do the same, letting the cool rush of air down your throat. The room spins. 

“Woah,” you mutter, suddenly hyper aware of your breathing. 

“Slow down. We’re okay. You’re safe.”

He leads you through a few more deep breaths and you manage to get to a place where they don’t feel so precarious and unsteady. Your head sparkles with fresh oxygen and everything is too much. After a moment you’re settling your elbows on your knees and burying your face in your hands. Spencer rubs soothing lines up and down the side of your legs. 

“How do you feel now?”

“Not good,” you whisper. “My foot hurts.”

He hums. 

“Technically I shouldn’t let you take Ibuprofen because it’s a blood thinner and you have an open wound, but I think it’ll be okay just this once. You okay if I go get some?”

You nod, rubbing at your eyes with your palms until you see stars. The brain fog hasn’t lifted, but it’s thinned considerably. 

He comes back a few moments later with two round pills and a glass of cold water. The shock of it in your hand zaps your brain and you almost drop it but Spencer seems to have anticipated this so he hadn’t let go of the glass yet. He administers the pills once your hand is steady and you take them, feeling the river of ice down your throat and into the pool of your stomach. It seems to travel outward, extending into every reach of your body, bringing the sensorial world back to the forefront of your consciousness. Spencer must notice the goosebumps because he’s unfolding a blanket and wrapping it around you tightly, before pulling you into his arms where he sits and tucking your head beneath his chin. You let your eyes flutter shut, embracing the warmth, the pressure, the soft fabric against your skin. 

“I don’t know what happened,” you murmur. “I don’t… feel right.”

“That’s okay. I know it feels scary, but nothing’s wrong. I think you maybe talked about something that’s really hard to talk about when you weren’t quite ready. Sometimes when that happens, your brain tries to protect you from perceived threats by dissociating. It makes thinking straight really difficult.”

You frown. 

“How did I… How’d I get home?”

He strokes your hair. 

“The parts of your brain responsible for procedural memory aren’t as impacted during episodes of dissociation. But it’s actually not uncommon for people who don’t have PTSD to forget their commutes. It’s called highway hypnosis.”

“I don’t… I don’t have PTSD,” you insist. When Spencer doesn’t answer for a long moment, only continues stroking your hair, you swallow. 

“We don’t have to talk about this right now, angel.”

“Okay,” you whisper, like a child too weary to argue. He kisses your head. 

“It might be good for you to take a nap,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. “I bet you’re tired.”

“How’d you know?”

“Because I know everything,” he says simply—a line borrowed from you. “Here’s what we’re gonna do, okay? I’m gonna order from Tandoori, and you’ll fall asleep, and I’ll wake you up when it’s time to eat, and we can watch your show.”

You smile despite yourself. 

“So assertive.”

“I’m thinking I can get away with it right now.”

He’s only teasing. You cuddle closer. He holds you tighter. 

“I’m the boss. And I want Thai food.”

“There she is,” he murmurs, rubbing your back over the blanket. The warm saccharine sweetness of his tone dizzies you, muddles your mind more pleasantly this time. Your heart rate slows. Your breathing goes back on autopilot. The rise and fall of his chest rocks you like the sea. Just at the cusp of sleep, he whispers one more promise. Of safety. Of love. 

When you wake up, you’ve forgotten all about it. 

But there's pad Thai on the table, and the kitchen is devoid of blood or broken glass. 

[emphistic]

Bf!Sukuna who sometimes calls you 'girlfriend' — and not in a flamboyant way

"Girlfriend, c'mere."

"What do you want, girlfriend?"

"Sure, girlfriend."

Bf!Sukuna who loves having your lips on his; he'll just randomly come up to you and slot his lips against yours without a word

Bf!Sukuna who walks around the house shirtless, and teases you by saying, "You should try it out," only to get a pillow thrown at his head

Bf!Sukuna who would pause his video game just for you

Bf!Sukuna who is actually super clingy, and cannot function without having you in a foot radius — but will never admit it

"I'm going to go get groceries now."

"I'll come with you," he said, immediately standing up from the couch.

"I thought you hated errands."

Sukuna shrugged, "'m bored."

Bf!Sukuna who spits in your food when you're not looking

Bf!Sukuna who, when he can't sleep, will just stare at you — a few times, you've woken up to his creepy crimson eyes staring back at you, and you socked him in the jaw

Bf!Sukuna who claims to hate your music, but whenever you two are in the car, he'll always let you handle the aux

Bf!Sukuna who purposely forgets to do your laundry so he can see you be forced to wear his clothes instead

Bf!Sukuna who is the king of keeping eye contact

Bf!Sukuna who'll hover around while you do your makeup and just ask random questions

"What does that do?"

"Why the fuck is it shaped like that?"

"It's almost as big as my dick."

Bf!Sukuna who steals your things and raises them above his head where you can't reach just to mess with you

Bf!Sukuna who never gets cold, and while that may seem like a good thing in the winter because you have a personal heat generator, it is the absolute worst during the summer — you have to ban cuddling because Sukuna is just too damn warm

Bf!Sukuna who doesn't help you bring in groceries, even if your hands are full

Bf!Sukuna who ignores you for the rest of the day if you forget to give him a good morning kiss, or good morning text (if you guys are temporarily apart)

Bf!Sukuna who is good at everything he touches

— a/n: kinda irrelevant if you ask me, but I just had to include this

Bf!Sukuna who pretends to forget if you guys have planned a date together

Bf!Sukuna who gets a hard-on when he sees your angry face; he loves having you pull on his ear and drag him away to a secluded area to hear you yell at him — he thinks you sound so sexy and look so hot

Bf!Sukuna who isn't above doing extreme pda when he sees someone staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who whines about going to work, claiming it's boring, but in reality: he just doesn't want to leave you — or vice versa: he doesn't want you to leave for work

Bf!Sukuna who swears up and down he doesn't want kids and hates children, but when he sees you taking care of his little brother Yuuji, he finds himself doing a mental 180°

Bf!Sukuna who goes into a trance staring at your ass

Bf!Sukuna who has no purpose for an Instagram account: you forced him to make one — he never posts on there, but when does, it's only pictures of you and occasionally him and you

Bf!Sukuna who has a drum set in your guys' shared apartment, but refuses to play it for anyone but you, and even then, he only plays to annoy you or wake you up from your nap

Bf!Sukuna who permanently quit smoking when he saw you plugging your nose near him

Bf!Sukuna who enjoys chasing you around the apartment, sometimes with a knife in hand just to make you extra scared

Taglist: @starlets-things @sad-darksoul @mochimoee @r0ckst4rjk (pls lmk if u only want to be tagged in my boy nextdoor series or all of my work) @lillycore

[sadhours]

eat me alive

eddie munson x fem!reader

an: well here it is… my first eddie smut. i didn’t see this happening and i know y’all didn’t either. go easy on me.

cw: 18+, minors dni, smut, oral (f receiving), drinking and cannabis use, unprotected (don’t be like me) p in v and some cum play/eating?

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

You’re pretty blitzed. The weed from Eddie’s joint pulsing through your veins. A stoned you don’t think you’ve felt before, but there’s a desire to impress the guy. So you smoked more than you normally would. The speakers in his room are loud. They drown out any outside noise and when Eddie talks, you can’t hear him. But you’re in a daze, watching his face light up as he blabs on. You think he’s talking about the song. But his hand is on your thigh, squeezing occasionally and it’s all kind of intoxicating. His hair bounces as he talks. You like how long it is. The longest you’ve seen a boy have.

His hand is warm on your leggings, the heat of it pulsing up to your core. And that wasn’t your intent coming over here. You don’t know Eddie well. But he’s friends with your brother and you think he’s kinda cute and really funny. So somehow, you’ve wound up in his trailer after school. Higher than you’ve ever been, holding a beer you’re taking a long time to drink while Eddie’s crushed like three of them. You don’t even remember how his hand ended up on your leg but you don’t want him to move it and you like looking at his face even though you can’t understand what he’s saying.

“This part!” he yells, retracts his hand and mimics playing guitar— air guitar. Bangs his head with this big smile on his face, stomping his foot with a force that has you feeling it under the mattress. A distant thought about how you’ll get home muddies your high and your face mimics it because Eddie leans back and turns down the music. “You okay?”

“How am I gonna get home?” you ask, your voice sounds foreign on your ears, like it’s far away and kind of underwater.

Eddie’s face contorts in confusion as he asks, “Do you have to go now?”

“No!” you shake your head, “But when I do.”

He laughs, reaches for your thigh again and squeezes, “I can drive you home when you do. You know the van we got here in? It can drive you home. If I control it.”

“Oh,” you giggle. You didn’t think about that. You feel so fuzzy and you’re really liking how his hand feels on your thigh. “Okay!”

He smiles. It’s sweet on his face and then he’s moving closer, nudges his forehead against yours, “Am I boring you?”

“No!” you insist, “I just feel weird.”

“Weird good or weird bad?” he asks, hand moves to your hip and you blink, trying to see him clearer.

“I’ve never been this stoned,” you confess, “But I think it’s good. The music sounds nice and you’re pretty.”

“I am?” he asks, cheeks swelling with his smile as he meets your eyes.

“Yeah,” you whisper with a slight nod.

“I like this music a lot,” he replies, “Makes me feel fuzzy. Do you feel fuzzy?”

“I do. Is that normal?” you ask softly, wrapping your hand around his bicep. You feel like you’re sinking into his mattress and he’s on top of you. But he isn’t really. He’s sitting up.

“It is normal…” he replies and then bites his lip, “Ya know what might feel good?”

“Sleep?” you reply with a giggle and Eddie mirrors it, then cups your cheek with his palm.

“Kissing.”

“Oh,” you swallow hard. He leans in, nudges his nose against yours.

“Does that sound nice?” he asks, sounds just as floaty as you feel.

You nod, whispering out a small, “Yeah.”

And then his lips are on yours, it’s soft and he’s right, it feels good. Kind of makes you even dizzier, but his hand on your face grounds you a bit and before you know it, you’re licking into his mouth. He meets it with a gasp and licks back. Soon, he is laying over you, holding himself on his elbows as he sucks on your tongue and rubs his own against yours.

He’s right that it feels good but it just makes you feel more stoned and you’re squeezing your thighs because there’s a desperate pressure building between them. His hair tickles the side of your face and you find yourself knitting your fingers through it, rolling your hips up at his. He responds with a roll of his own, more pressure than you gave him. Eddie moans softly, pulls back and looks down at you.

“Does it feel good?” he asks, all soft but out of breath.

“Uh-huh,” you nod and roll your hips up at him again. “Do you think it does?”

He nods slowly, grabs your hand and brings it to his crotch. You can feel his erection through his pants as he says, “Really good.”

You giggle and he mirrors it, maneuvers a bit to get more on top of you and his foot kicks over a stack of empty PBR cans on the floor. They crash down and his face winces, making you giggle even harder and wrap your arms around his neck. You pull him into another kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist. You can feel the strained but impressive length in his pants against your core and it sprouts a moan from you, swallowed by Eddie’s eager mouth as he grinds down against you.

Then he’s suddenly pulling back, looking at you with big, dark eyes, “Can I taste you? I wanna taste you.”

You nod enthusiastically and it’s a team effort to get your leggings and panties off. He pushes your legs up, thighs against your chest as he gets his mouth on you. Moans in appreciation at the taste, flicks his tongue against your folds as he squeezes the fat on the back of your thighs. You squeak at the sensation, heightened by your intoxication. You’ve never been this stoned and you’ve never felt a tongue on your cunt while stoned. It fucking sends you to another planet. Reaching between your legs to grip his mane, tugging on the loose waves as your back arches. Eddie repeatedly flicks his tongue against your clit, gasping and whining as he gets his fill. It feels like you should be the one making the noises but, god he really seems to be enjoying himself.

Picking your head off the mattress, you look down your body at him between your legs and he’s actually grinding against the air. His eyes meet yours and lord, they look desperate. Hair shaking, he moves his whole head as he licks you out. You pull on his hair and he moans loud against you. It’s all happened so quick but you couldn’t be happier. This is the peak of human happiness. It has to be. With Black Sabbath as a soundtrack, you’re on the quick train to a blissful destination. All thanks to Eddie’s determined tongue. Then he does something that sends you over the edge. Slips two fingers inside you and curls them. Pulls a sound out of you, you didn’t know you were capable off. Eyes closed tight, stars flashing behind your lids.

When you come down, he’s meeting your lips with his. You can taste yourself and it only makes you hungry for more. A whine from you is swallowed down by Eddie and he continues kissing you desperately. You’re almost overwhelmed but at the same time insatiable. He reaches down, slips his fingers back inside you as he licks into your mouth. You pant, reaching down to grab his wrist and he smiles.

“Sorry,” he exhales, “Too much?”

“Wanna feel.. wanna…” you try to catch your breath, “Wanna make you feel good.”

“This is making me feel good,” he assures you, curling his fingers with a devilish grin.

“It— oh, fuck— it does?” you reply in a moan.

He nods again, “But you want me inside you?”

Another gasp, another slow nod. You do, you really do. You can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel. Eddie’s moving to undo his pants, fussing with his belt as you pull his shirt over his head. Then you work on your top and bra as Eddie sheds his pants and briefs. His cock flops out and slaps against your pussy, you inhale sharply and he does too. Both pairs of eyes falling between your bodies, observing where his erection lays against your puffy pussy. Still watching, Eddie reaches down and rubs the tip of his cock through your folds. Circles it against your entrance and then slides it back up, slaps it against your clit for good measure which draws a high-pitched moan from you. He groans softly and then drags it back down, holds it to your entrance before his hips thrust toward, sheathing inside you once and for all and you’re gone.

Dizzy, you cling onto him and roll your hips. He sinks deeper inside and you keen, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh, Eddie!” you whine, hands knit into his hair again and he replies with a kiss. Messy and stoned. A battle of tongues and teeth, his hips stuttering with these shy thrusts that feel like heaven.

He nuzzles his face against your neck as he pumps into you. It’s so warm and gooey and deep. You can’t keep your hands out of his hair, loving the way it feels as he pumps into you over and over. And it feels like it goes on for hours, continuing to meet for a kiss every so often. Open mouthed and needy. And then the cassette stops and Eddie groans, pulls back and walks over to the boombox. You watch his ass with intrigue, giggling softly as he grabs another tape and switches it for the one that ended. Iron Maiden starts to blast through the speakers as he turns, catches your gaze on his ass and laughs. He walks back over and smacks the side of your thigh, “Pervert.”

“Sorry,” you apologize through a smile, spreading your legs for him as you pull him back down on top of you.

He kisses you softly, mumbles against your lips, “I like it.”

You giggle, kissing back and Eddie reaches between your bodies. Lines himself back up and slowly sinks into the warm, pulsing walls of your pussy. He moans out, softly and rolls his hips. In and out, in and out. Until your eyes cross and your lips part, moan rolling off your tongue. Eddie gropes your tits then, circles his thumb over your perked nipple. A whine falls from you, the sensation extra wonderful with the cannabis induced sensitivity. He leans down and captures your nipple in his mouth. Moves his hand down and then his thumb is circling against your clit, persistent and firm.

“Eddie…” you exhale, a warning— letting him know what’s ahead but it hits you before you can say anything else. Euphoric waves pulsing through you as your body freezes up, back arching as you let out a broken moan. His lips are suddenly on your ear and the waves don’t subside like you except.

“That’s a good girl,” he pants out, “Give it to me, just like that. You’re so perfect.”

You feel like your orgasm extrapolates, magnifies and spreads out all over. Intense enough you feel tears pricking your eyes and the Iron Maiden song is all muffled. You don’t even realize you’re repeatedly moaning and gasping until you start to finally come down. Out of breath and fuzzy all over.

Eddie groans, low and deep as he thrusts even harder and faster. Voice a whine as he confesses, “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You smile wide, wrapping your arms and legs around him and pulling him closer. But he panics, “No, no, no… can’t cum in you.”

A part of you wants to argue but you know that isn’t smart so you let up on the grip. He pulls out, strokes his cock hard and fast until he’s spilling cum all over your chest and navel. Stays upright like that as he catches his breath and your hands find his spunk, smearing it around and whining in the dazed, post-coital bliss you’re feeling. Eddie whines back, “Fuuuck…”

He watches you with curious eyes as you bring your hand up to your mouth and lick the cum off your fingers and palm. He wavers, panting heavy and then he’s smiling. Reaches for a dirty t-shirt and cleans up his mess on your skin. Leans down to give you a fat and sloppy kiss before he’s standing up again. Pulls a pair of sweats on and looks at you, “Be right back.”

In the time he’s gone, you’ve dressed again and sit on the edge of his bed to wait for him.

He comes back with a big cup of water, handing it to you and smiles, “That was fun, huh?”

“Yeah,” you say shyly as you take the water and gulp half of it down.

[gilbertscurls]

can you do one of matt thinking reader is cheating and they get into a bad argument and dont speak for a couple days but than he apologizes

hope you like it!! <3

Complicated ➵ Matt Sturniolo

The tension in the air was thick enough to cut through as you stood on opposite sides of the room, Matt pacing back and forth like a caged animal. His usually calm demeanor was nowhere to be found, replaced with a storm brewing in his eyes, each step filled with frustration.

“You think I don’t see it?” His voice cracked, like he was struggling to keep himself together, the edge in his tone unfamiliar, biting. “All those times you’ve been distant? On your phone constantly? Don’t lie to me, I’m not an idiot.”

Your heart raced in your chest, his words hitting you harder than you expected. You blinked back tears, disbelief washing over you. Matt’s accusations felt like daggers, cutting through the trust you had built together. “What are you even talking about?” You asked, voice shaking as you tried to keep your composure. “I haven’t done anything. Why are you suddenly so paranoid?”

He scoffed, running a hand through his hair, eyes narrowing at you. “Suddenly? It’s been building for weeks, and you know it. You’ve been pulling away, and I see the way you’ve been texting someone else. You think I’m blind?”

It hit you then — the misplaced jealousy, the suspicion. He had been watching you, second-guessing your every move, twisting them into something they weren’t. You could feel the anger rising in your chest, mixing with the hurt, your hands trembling by your sides.

“Matt,” you started, your voice growing firmer, “I’m not cheating on you. I don’t know where this is coming from, but this is insane. I would never do that to you.”

He stopped pacing, his eyes locking onto yours, desperation swirling in them. “Then what is it, huh? Why have you been acting so weird? Why does it feel like I’m losing you?”

You could see the cracks beneath his anger, the insecurity gnawing at him, but his accusations were too much. The very thought that he believed you would betray him like that stung deeply, and it made you question everything.

“Because we’ve both been busy, Matt. College, your channel, life — it’s all happening so fast. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care. You know me better than this.”

He looked down, clenching his fists as if he was trying to get a grip on himself. “I just— I can’t stand the thought of losing you,” he muttered, his voice finally softening, but the damage was already done. The weight of the argument settled heavily in the space between you, a canyon that felt too wide to cross.

“You won’t lose me,” you whispered, the pain evident in your voice, “but if you keep pushing me away with these accusations, maybe you will.”

That hit him hard. He turned, walking to the window, his back to you, shoulders tense. The silence was suffocating, the words unsaid hanging in the air like thick smoke. You stood there, feeling the weight of his doubt pressing down on you, wondering how things had spiraled out of control so quickly.

“I can’t talk to you when you’re like this,” you said after what felt like an eternity, grabbing your coat. The coldness in your tone was unfamiliar even to yourself, but you couldn’t help it. The hurt was too raw. “When you’re ready to actually listen to me, you know where to find me.”

Without waiting for a response, you walked out of the room, the door closing softly behind you. But the quiet sound felt like a deafening finality, like a door slamming on everything you’d built together.

The days that followed felt like an eternity. Neither of you reached out, both too stubborn, too hurt. You missed him — every part of you missed him — but you couldn’t be the one to break first, not when he was the one who doubted you. The silence between you stretched into every part of your day, making it hard to concentrate on anything else.

You tried to focus on school, on anything but him, but his absence was like a gaping wound that refused to heal. You kept replaying the fight in your head, wondering where it all went wrong, how everything had unraveled so quickly.

Three days later, you heard a knock at your door. Your heart leaped into your throat, hoping it was Matt. You opened it to find him standing there, looking like he hadn’t slept in days. His eyes were red-rimmed, and there was a sadness about him that made your heart ache.

“I—” he started, but his voice cracked, and he had to clear his throat before trying again. “I’m so sorry.”

The sincerity in his voice almost broke you. You’d imagined this moment over and over, but now that it was here, you weren’t sure what to say. You stood there, frozen, as he took a tentative step closer.

“I messed up,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “I know I did. I let my fears get the better of me, and I said things I shouldn’t have. I should’ve trusted you… I do trust you. I just— I was scared. Scared that you’d leave, that I wasn’t enough.”

The vulnerability in his words made you soften, the anger and hurt slowly ebbing away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of sadness for him. For both of you.

“Matt…” You finally spoke, your voice barely a whisper, “I never wanted to hurt you, but you can’t keep doubting me like that. We can’t keep going like this.”

He nodded, his eyes meeting yours, filled with regret. “I know. I swear, I’ll never doubt you again. I’ll work on it, I promise.” He took another step closer, his hand hesitating before reaching out to you. “Please, just give me another chance. I don’t want to lose you.”

You looked into his eyes, seeing the remorse, the desperation, the love — all of it written so clearly on his face. And despite everything, despite the pain and the fight, you still loved him. Maybe that was enough to try again.

Slowly, you took his hand, feeling the warmth of his fingers against yours. “We have to communicate better, Matt. We can’t keep hurting each other like this.”

“I know.” He squeezed your hand gently, his eyes searching yours, as if trying to find some reassurance that everything would be okay. “I’ll do better. I swear.”

You stood there for a moment, letting the tension melt away, replaced by a tentative hope. There was still a lot to work through, still wounds to heal, but as you looked at him, you knew that you were both willing to try. And maybe that was enough.

“I love you,” you whispered, and you saw the relief wash over his face.

“I love you, too,” he whispered back, pulling you into his arms, holding you tightly, as if afraid to let you go.

tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274

[elysianightsss]

He laughed so bostrously, lips closing around his cigar while he did so, blue eyes not leaving yours as you got out your keys ready to enter your house, white picket fencing the only thing separating the two of you.

“Thank you.” You smiled his way, ecstatic with the compliment. You’d only been driving a little while so to hear how good he thought you were at parking made your chest swell with pride.

“John Price.” He spoke again coming closer this time, blowing the smoke from his mouth, head turned so as not to blow it in your direction. You gulped watched a single bead of sweat roll down the skin of his thick neck.

You have to blink yourself back to the present as he’s extending his hand to you over your side of the fence, only coming up to your waist.

You grabbed his hand, a little suprised with how hot it was, slightly sweaty too. You told him your name in return, cheeks flushing slightly, more than they already were from the heat of the day when he hummed approvingly repeating it like he’s testing it out so he can use it more often.

“God it’s hot today ain’t it.” The question was obviously rhetorical as the sun was beating down on the both of you as you spoke. It was so far what they called ‘the hottest day of the year’ and this time the weather girl wasn’t lying. You’d had to put sun cream on before you left the office because of how hot it was.

Thank goodness your office building had air conditioning because you don’t know how you would have survived otherwise. As soon as you walked out the hot air was choking and the sun’s heat was awful after being in the nice cold all day.

“It’s better than it raining though.” John spoke again almost trying to fill the gap where he thought you may have commented.

“I don’t know, I kinda like the rain and the cold. It’s nice when you get to have the fire going and cuddling up on the sofa with an old movie or book, maybe some hot cocoa-“ you began to ramble on all the things you like about autumn and winter. All the while John is watching with a smile on his face, picturing doing all those things with you.

He’s more distracted than you are that there’s an awkward pause when you stop rambling, he’s still in a trance while you stand there biting your lip nervously as he simply stares at you.

“Doing some gardening?” You try to break the silence to which he slightly jumps, eyes regaining their focus on you.

“Yeah, thought I’d do the front of the house up a bit, make it look somewhat presentable.” He chuckled looking back at his handy work, it didn’t look half bad. The lawn was mowed and he had started to plant some seeds by the looks of it.

“Looks a lot better than my dump, I never have time for it.” You say with a laugh, glancing over your shoulder at the overgrown grass and dying flowers you’d planted last spring to try and making the place look better. Fail.

“You work a lot huh? I see you coming and going most days. Barely ever home.” He tilts his head, arms folded over his chest bringing his cigar up to his mouth once more.

“I only get weekends off, and they’re really the only time I spend at home if you don’t count coming home to sleep at night.” You sigh thinking about how hard you had worked today, always taking on problems that maybe you should let others handle but then you wouldn’t be paid as much as you get.

“I’m glad I’m retired, but I must admit it’s rather boring.” He inhaled the smoke, a thinking look clear on his rugged face.

“You don’t look old enough to be retired.” You comment, not meaning to say it out loud. Your eyes widening once you realise you have.

“I’ll take that as a compliment love.” He laughs, the corners of his eyes creasing when he does. His thick beard surrounding the way his lips curve up in smile. Your face burns and you definitely look like a tomato right now.

“I best go inside and shower off today.” You smile at him with a small wave before turning on your heal and heading inside. You slump against the front door cursing yourself. “Stupid stupid stupid.” Heading upstairs you do exactly what you said you would, shower.

That’s why you don’t hear the lawnmower turn on again, that’s why you don’t notice it’s right outside your house, that’s why you don’t notice that John Price is mowing your lawn as you scrub your white loofa over your legs. But when you’re done and you look out your bedroom window, your heart stops.

Your handsome neighbour, is cutting your grass in the hot sun, without a shirt on. He spots you staring a sends a wink your way…..that man will be the death of you.

[hairmetal666]

After the Russians, Steve learns three important things about himself:

Robin is the best friend he's ever had; the uncontested other half of his heart. His soulmate, the platonic love of his life, his missing puzzle piece.

He's not in love with Nancy anymore. It's really saying something that hearing those words come out of his mouth is the shock of his life. Once the drugs wear off, though, he realizes they were absolutely true. A surprising win for the Russian truth serum

Her bathroom confession...he sits with it for days. Not--not because she's a lesbian, of course not, but because. Well, Robin knows herself in a way he's never allowed himself to. And he thinks that maybe maybe he likes boys in the same way. That he always has, but never let himself acknowledge it, the way his eyes wanted to catch in the locker room, the drunken, fumbling touches between him and Tommy.

The last one...he's not sure, is the thing. How can he be sure? Like, in his mind, his imagination, he's very into it, but what if it's different in real life? And how can he even find out? He tells, Robin, of course he does, and they go to Indy, right, to a bookstore and she throws a few zines at him and he sneaks some porn (he's definitely into the porn), but that's not--it's not practical experience. And he's not ready to go to one of the bars, for sure, so he doesn't--like what's he supposed to do?

It's around this time in his bisexual spiral that the kids start hanging out with Eddie Munson, that he starts thinking about Eddie Munson. He always noticed the long, dark curls and the bright, brown eyes; the slender cut of his waist; the wry slant of his mouth as he shouted insults at the jocks; the glinting silver of the rings on his fingers--fingers that were long and callused, fingers that could grip around Steve's--

Nope, he's not going there. Even though, a little voice in his head says, he cares for Steve's kids and maybe he's not good at school but he's smart and he's also so pretty, with his pale skin and his big eyes--

No. He doesn't have a crush on Eddie Munson. Absolutely not.

And when he picks up the kids from their little dnd club and sees Munson standing against his van, he doesn't feel an electric zing in his chest, the first stirring of butterflies in his stomach; that would be crazy. They hardly know each other. It goes like this every time, and he's almost able to believe he doesn't care.

Until Eddie trips over the threshold of Family Video, stumbling on an untied bootlace and gangling his way through the front doors. The clatter catches both Robin and Steve's attention.

"Welcome to Family Video," Robin says. Steve stares.

"Uhh." Eddie's eyes flit between them, his face getting redder by the second.

Fuck, he's so cute and Steve's saying--without thinking about it, he's saying--"let me help you find a movie, man."

"Yea--sure, yeah." Eddie's hands are stuffed in the tight pocket of his jeans.

Steve takes a few steps down the closest aisle. "So, what--uh, what are you looking for?"

"Horror? Nothing in particular."

They make their way to the horror section, and it's like some insane, deeply horny demon takes over. He starts grabbing movies off the shelf, no rhyme or reason, doesn't even know what most of them are.

Eddie's staring at him with wide eyes and a raised eyebrow, and Steve just keeps grabbing tapes, is sort of doing a running commentary on titles and tag lines, and he can't stop, why can't he stop? it's like smoke is coming out of his ears. Robin is watching him from the counter with her mouth hanging open, gummy worm dangling down her chin.

"You know," Eddie grabs something from the shelf, "I think I'll just do Friday the 13th again. Can't go wrong."

And he leaves Steve standing there with half the horror section collected in his arms. He stays there while Eddie pays, face burning. It's been--well, a really long time since he's struck out so hard, and he wasn't even really trying.

As Eddie's walking out the door, his sad pile of movies shifts, then tumbles to the floor.

"You have a crush on Eddie Munson." Robin accuses.

"No!" He ducks down to collect the tapes, hoping to hide the crimson of his face.

"You do." She points an accusatory finger in his direction. "I haven't seen you this pathetic since Scoops."

"It's nothing."

"You know," she crouches down with him, "you could just, like. Try to hang out with him."

"After that? Are you kidding? I'm surprised you don't already have a new You Rule/You Suck board going."

"Oh, I do, it's up front." She jumps to her feet. "But still. You should try. And you have an easy in with the kids."

He glares at her in response, starts re-shelving all the dumb movies, and then they get busy, so the topic is dropped. He thinks about it thought. He thinks about it and he--

Instead of waiting in the car for the kids to get done at Hellfire the next time, he goes in.

[sytoran]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝟎𝟎𝟔 — 𝐒𝐈𝐙𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊

kinktober day 006 | roommate!natasha x werewolf!reader

despite your countless pleads for natasha to stay away during the full moon, she decides to brave the beast and be right by your side during your transformation. she gets a lot more than what she bargained for.

cont. reader has a cock, (very) rough sex, breeding, creampie

word count. 2063

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

“Natasha, you can’t stay here during my transformation,” you plead, grasping your roommate’s hand in yours.

The brunette is adamant, looking up at you with a stubbornly steely gaze. “I’m staying, Y/N. You don’t have to do this alone anymore. You don’t have to suffer alone.”

You wring your hands in exasperation, somewhere near tearing your hair out in frustration or crying in anger. “You’re not listening to me, Nat. It’s not just the pain. I become a different being altogether, and you just can’t see me like that.”

“I can, and I will,” she stubbornly says, folding her arms over her chest and mistakably pushing her cleavage up, too.

The tips of your ears burn at seeing Natasha so utterly bratty.

You bite your tongue, refusing to argue with Natasha even more. Keeping you safe was one thing, but the real reason to steer Natasha away from you during the full moon was to keep her safe.

Because when you’re in your werewolf form, your true desires get heightened by a thousandfold, and from the way you already feel about Natasha, you’re worried it might implode when it comes to your inner beast.

As the Gods of Fate have it out for you, the full moon comes earlier than expected.

Your first agonized cry comes when Natasha’s still in the shower.

“Y/N!” Natasha calls out your name, once, haphazardly scrambling to wrap a towel around herself and sprint to the room where your cries are coming from.

The sight that greets her is absolutely horrific.

You’re bent over, on the floor of your room, on all fours and spitting out blood. Your back is bent at an inhuman angle, your spine broken.

“......Y/N?” Natasha’s voice shook, rooted to the spot in sheer terror.

You don’t respond. You’re in a state of little awareness, or so it seems, a low grunt of pain and fury escaping from you as your transformation continues. 

Natasha takes in a deep breath and steps into the room.

She wants to reach out, hold your hand, tell you that it’s going to be fine but she knows it’s not. The sounds of excruciating pain, broken bones, and surpassed limits make Natasha weep for you on the inside, knowing that you have to go through this painstaking process every month.

The transformation seems to be slowing down, now. Your human blood is splattered across the walls of your room, but your werewolf form seems to be perfectly healthy. You’re still more human than wolf, though: your muscles had thickened and were iron-hard, and you were taller than before. 

However, your wolfish eyes that survey the room are bloodshot red and absolutely inhuman.

That gaze is a chilling scene, narrowed eyes and steady puffs of air surveying the room. Your slow yet calculated mannerisms are reminiscent of your human form.

Natasha hasn’t quite yet caught your eye,  but when she does, it’s like a predator has found its prey.

Your red eyes are like lit coals and smoking silver, surveying Natasha with every ounce of authority and a near possesiveness.

“Natasha.”

Time stills, and the sound of your haunting voice reverberates around the four walls of your room.

Natasha truly can’t help but let out the tiniest whimper of fear. And perhaps a little something more.

“Y/N,” Natasha says your name again, because it seems to be the only thing capable of falling from her lips, and she swallows harshly at your predatory behaviour. She presses into the wall, one hand clutching the top of her towel, the other finding purchase in the edge of your cupboard. 

When you begin to move closer, Natasha screws her eyes shut, anticipating what was to come. Your presence looms over her, metaphorically and physically, and Natasha waits for her inevitable demise.

The ‘inevitable demise’ never happens.

Instead, Natasha’s eyes flutter open slowly to your huge hands gently wrapping around her torso, a sharp nose burying itself into the crook of her neck.

The whine she lets slip is involuntary. Your close proximity undermines her calm composure, regardless of your way, shape, or form. If that was telling of her feelings towards you, Natasha would choose to play oblivious.

You’re supposed to be scary, and Natasha’s supposed to be terrified, but with the way you’re dragging your nose up and down the column of Natasha’s slender neck, inhaling her sweet scent, she hardly considers her heart to be beating steadily.

She’s intoxicated by you, even more so with your unabashed exploration of Natasha’s neck. The redhead might be grasping at straws, but it’s almost like you’re seeking something. Something from Natasha. Comfort, perhaps?

“You’re okay,” the redhead whispers, fingers combing through your fur in comforting motions. She hears something that sounds suspiciously like a purr of satisfaction, so she repeats that motion.

Your head moves from her pale neck to her pretty collarbones and down her cleavage until your nose hits the obstruction of Natasha's towel.

A low rumble of disgruntlement sounds from somewhere deep in your chest. Natasha lets a full-body shudder take its hold of her body, under the vibrations of your low decibels.

Not comfort, then. What was it?

Almost like you could read Natasha’s inner thoughts, your werewolf form decides to say capre diem and let a huge hand slither up the inside of your roommate’s bare thigh.

Natasha squeals and swats your hand away, instinctively, then she catches herself and her eyes go wide. 

Oh. 

The fire that dances in your eyes is nothing short of a human-like mischief, playful and oh so dangerous. The incarnadine flush that adorns Natasha’s cheeks like a flower blossoming in the spring is one that your werewolf greedily soaks up, pulling her body flush against yours.

You can see the moment realization hits Natasha, the moment she realizes your desires are nothing short of sinful. 

“Want,” you enunciate slowly, stately and unyielding. Your eyes are locked onto hers, gleaming. 

Expectant. Possessive. Knowing.

The grasp of your hand on her inner thigh once again has Natasha letting out a breathy moan, one of pleasure and a startling realisation.

It wasn’t comfort. It was sex.

-----

If Natasha knew that werewolves were this fucking astronomical at sex, she would’ve introduced supernatural creatures into her bed a long time ago.

The position she’s in is nothing short of embarrassing, on all fours, grasping at the headboard like it was her lifeline. 

Perhaps it was, truthfully, because with the ferocity of the thrusts of your Herculean-sized werewolf cock into her pussy from behind was worthy of being sent to the afterlife. Not like Natasha would complain, though.

“Oh- mhmmm, n’more, s’too much,” Natasha slurs, her breasts shaking rhythmically with each time your jerk that massive thing into her, velvet walls squeezing tight around your pulsing cock. Her eyes are threatening to roll back, drool already spilling from the sides of her lips, arousal already leaking from her thighs and on to the bed.

You don’t seem to give a damn about the messiness of it, though, and that could perhaps be linked to the scientific nature of more barbaric animals. But Natasha could ponder over animal studies at a later point in time, for now she was being treated like a fuckdoll, and it was midblowingly gratifying.

“All– the way,” you grunt, trying to shove the entirety of your huge cock into Natasha’s pussy, clearly displeased by the fact that you were struggling to be sealed inside the redhead completely and inescapably. 

It shouldn’t have been a problem because she was already so wet, so pliant, so perfect for the taking. You’d make do with what you had, though.

“It’s too big,” Natasha had whined earlier, gasping as your tip stretched her opening out, the biggest thing she’d ever taken in her life. Her grasp on the headboard tightened as you slid in with a cruel impatience, big hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass.

“I’ll… make it fit,” you reply, somewhat slowly, your speech clearly deterred by your transformation into part-animal. The results of it are undeniably effective, nonetheless, the cockiness of your brash words making arousal pool in Natasha’s hips.

You’ve reached a sweet spot of Natasha’s, and her walls clench around your big cock tightly, mewling as you push its head against her sponginess. 

“Right there, please, please, plea-” Natasha is cut off by one of her own moans when you jerk inside her, spurred on by the sheer tightness she’s providing you. 

When you lean down to entrap Natasha in a breeding press, your bigger body engulfing her smaller one, slick and sweat converging in an unholy sacrament, it’s all over for her.

Going weak in the knees, Natasha moans as her arms give out and her front flops into the bed. The results of this lie in the fact that her back becomes beautifully arched, her ass rising towards the ceiling; your wolfish eyes drink the sight in with a lick of your lips, cock twitching at the prospect of all the new angles you’d be able to reach.

An animalistic prowess takes mighty hold over your sentience, triggering a feral craze to wash over your werewolf form, and it takes mere seconds before you ram your cock back inside Natasha’s wrecked cunt with undying fervour.

The warbled sounds the girl lets out beneath goes unheard, muffled by the pillow, but the sheer slickness of her pretty pussy gives a certain confirmation that she was enjoying it as much as you did. 

Not that your werewolf would care much, anyways: What it was chasing was pleasure, seeking relief in the completely sexual sense, a carnal desire to take and to breed and to claim. 

You push yourself in hilt-deep inside Natasha, fully lodged in, skin against skin.

Instinctively, your hands fly to Natasha’s belly. You can feel your cock bulge there, spreading her out, filling her up.

The next series of your thrusts cause Natasha to make noises she’s never made before, her body moving like clay under your touch. 

You pull out and make her sob, then thrust all the way back in with an unbridled strength that leaves Natasha breathless. Then again, and again, until she cums helplessly around your cock, pulsing and throbbing and alight with nerves.

This is not the side of you Natasha’s grown to know and love. There are no gentle smiles, no soft hugs and whispered words of admiration. It’s completely animalistic, entirely pleasure-chasing, undeniably one-sided.

You’re thrusting into her like she’s your personal fuckdoll, bringing her to high after high, but you don’t even seem to register that fact. You’re using her for your pleasure, and it should be wrong, but…

“More! More, please, please, need another,” Natasha sobs into the pillow, every fibre of her body screaming at her to stop but her brain unable to put it into action. She hardly registers what she’s saying, only begging pathetically and dripping endlessly.

“Inside,” you growl, right next to her ear, sharp teeth grazing her earlobe. Natasha babbles her acknowledgement, even more turned on at the prospect of being filled, fuck it, and the orgasm that crashes over the both of you is heaven-like.

Natasha’s scream of your name reverberates for miles to come.

With that, you’re cumming, finally, and the seed that spills out from you is endless. Natasha drools into the pillow as you unload your cum inside her, gripping fistfuls of her ass pressed flush against your hips. 

“Mine,” you hear yourself say. The helplessly, pathetically aroused tone of your voice nearly makes Natasha weep again — she’s rendered a damn werewolf near speechless.

Streams of white fluid spray onto Natasha’s back once you’re done with her cunt. You manhandle her around to face the front, to find her pretty eyes rolled to the back of her head, drool coating her lips.

Your werewolf heaves as you watch as your seed overflows from her pretty pussy and on to her thick thighs. A perfect creampie.

Your werewolf, however, has different plans, feeling your cock stiffen again at the sight of her ruined pussy. 

-----

The next morning, you wake up with a throbbing feeling between your legs.

Shit. Was it my transformation?

You leap out of bed, yanking the covers off—

To reveal a very naked Natasha Romanoff, your best friend and your roommate.

She awakes with a start, blinking at the light, and then wincing as if her body was aching all over.

“.......Nat?” you ask hesitantly, eyes trailing over her marked thighs and tits. “What happened last night?”

“Okay. Don’t panic, but you’re fathering my children.”

finally catching up on fics!! i did spend significantly longer on this fic, so it would be highly appreciated if you could reblog

kinktober masterlist || main masterlist

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 6: Pup Cup

Masterlist

Summary: Simon unexpectedly runs into you... and your friends... and Tyler.

Warnings: dissociation, jealousy

It was finally Saturday - a Saturday where you had cleared your schedule, and so had Leslie and Nina. AND Tyler. Which was maybe once every two months. So, you had made plans to get brunch with the girls, the three of you deciding to dress up a bit and get mimosas. Tyler had promised to swing by around one to take you around the city, then to spend a cozy day at his apartment.

Right now, it was girl time. The three of you had your mimosa pitcher and a shared basket of fries, delving into each other's personal drama.

"And then Marcie asked me to pick up this Saturday - today, mind you - because she forgot the two interns were finished this Thursday. Of course, I told her no, in the most professional way I could - and she had the audacity to say I needed to pick up more slack. Me!!"

Nina scoffed. Your jaw dropped open. "You've been there the longest!"

Leslie nodded. "Longer than her, too! God, I could've let her have it, right then and there-" she sighed, leaning back in her seat. "Of course, I didn't. But I made sure she knew I would not be coming in on my day off, that I had planned for weeks."

You snapped your fingers in applause, making Leslie chuckle. "Bravo to you - we love seeing women fighting women in the workplace."

"Oh, stuff it." She laughed, swatting your hands away. "Feels like an episode of 'The Office,' if you ask me. Just too bloody insane to be real."

You hummed thoughtfully, taking a sip of your mimosa. Your eyes wandered down to your purse, hanging from the side of your chair, your phone tucked away within. I wonder what Simon's up to... what does he do on his days off?

"Speaking of women in the workplace..." Leslie turns to Nina, who was scowling at her phone. "Who's got you so irate on a Saturday?"

"Idiots, that's who." She grumbled, furiously punching away at the keyboard on her screen. "It's as if the minute I take a personal vacation, everyone and their grandmother suddenly need a wedding planner." She sighed and tucked her phone back into her purse. "I'm sorry..."

You and Leslie shook your head, reassuring her that it was alright. God forbid she starts falling into the "I work so hard and get nothing in return" schpeel - which would be believable and understandable, if it wasn't for the fact that she played that card every time the three of you were together.

"Did you hear she started dog-sitting?" Leslie said, nodding in your direction.

That snapped Nina out of her own head. "You did? What does that have to do with your design work?"

You huffed. "Well, it doesn't - but, and I told you this, Leslie" - she laughed at your glare - "that I was just looking for a house-sitting gig, like what I did before I left that stupid company. Just until I got a few clients to myself, and could start my own business."

"Busy bee..." Leslie commented, and Nina nodded in agreement.

"Not nearly as you two - remember how hard it was for me and Tyler to have a weekend together? Now I'm the one waiting for him. He's even started coming with me when I take Riley for walks - just to spend more time together."

"How sweet..." Leslie cooed.

"Riley?" Nina asked.

"The dog." You answered. "She's a wonderful dog, really. Used to be military, before her... injury..."

You trailed off, staring at something between Leslie's and Nina's heads. They stared at you in confusion for a moment, until you beamed widely and started waving your hand. They turned to stare at whomever had caught your attention.

Simon wasn't one for "get-togethers," as he heard them called. He was perfectly fine spending his leave at home, only leaving to walk Riley or get his groceries and smokes. He'd occasionally text the team and see what they were up to, but other than that - he had no problem living like a hermit.

Soap was the one to suggest the idea of the team getting lunch together, since they were all nearby for work. Of course, Gaz was never one to turn down a group outing; once he was in, Price had decided they all might as well go. ("Should be a team off the field too, right?")

So that's how Simon had been forced to come out of his cave. And no, it might not seem like he was forced... but it would be rude of him not to go, so therefore, societal standards were forcing him. That, and Soap would bitch about him being a "bawbag" for weeks if he didn't tag along.

He decided to bring Riley with him, since it had been a few weeks since she had seen everyone. She looked around as she panted, walking besides Simon through the mildly-crowded sidewalk. It was a decent Saturday afternoon, with a mix of cloud and sun hanging in the sky. Simon wore his usual jeans and a sweatshirt, along with a black surgical mask.

He needed a head start for the day. Not that he didn't enjoy spending time with his team outside of work... but people were exhausting, especially when he was forced into proximity with them. He needed a few hours to himself, in public, just to wake up his social battery. The best way to achieve that? Tea, Riley, and people-watching.

So that's how he found himself, next in line at the coffee counter of a restaraunt he’d been to a few times before. He had his hands shoved in his pockets as he held Riley's leash; her head was on a swivel, sniffing the aromas that wafted through the air, and the occasional hand of each person who passed her. Simon was thankful people were wary of his presence - it kept everyone from trying to lean down and pet Riley without his permission.

The customer in front of him moved away from the counter, and Simon stepped forward. The girl behind the cash register smiled at him, wiping her hands on her apron.

"What can I get for you, sir?"

"Jus' a tea. Medium, no sugar, no cream."

"Would you like the passionfruit tea or the mint berry mixer? Or our jasmine goddess?"

"... d'you have black tea?"

She chuckled. "Yeah, I'll get your black tea."

Simon huffed as he put his cash on the counter. Don' get why tha's funny...

He watched as she moved - rather sluggishly, he thought. Despite that her makeup did a fantastic job of hiding how tired she must have been, he could see it in her eyes and actions. The way she stood there, shoulders slightly slumped as she watched the hot water pour into Simon's cup, her arms resting heavily against the counter. He looked behind him briefly, noticing how long the line was for the cafe. Not to mention she had dine-in orders to fulfill, too... and she's alone at the coffee bar. He turned back, watching as she fought to make sure the lid was properly secured on his cup. It made him a bit nervous, how she supported nearly all of her weight onto the top. What if it crumples? What if she gets burnt? Is there a burn kit behind the shelf? Probably not-

Riley whined, snapping Simon’s attention away from the barista and down towards her. She licked her lips and stared up at him curiously.

She always knows.

He sighed, patting her flank. "Thanks, girl."

The barista returned with his tea, as well as a small cup of whipped cream with a dog biscuit poking out of it. “For your friend.” She said with a too-tight smile.

Simon stared blankly at the whipped cream cup. "I didn't order tha’.” He said bluntly.

“It’s on the house! Pup cups are free.” She said, nudging the two items towards Simon. “Don’t worry, there’s no added sugars in the whipped cream, and the treat is allergen-free.”

Why does everyone assume dogs have allergies? Simon thought to himself. He glanced at Riley for a brief moment – she looked back at him, certainly not expecting a treat, not yet. She’d hounded him enough for those goddamn biscuits all morning, the ones you’d been spoiling her with, and he had no choice but to follow the routine and gave her one. This created a cycle that sent him to the doggie-daycare once a week to pick up more, since the old woman who made them only sold them there. Without even intending to, most likely, you were taking more from his wallet than he had hired you for. Not that he minded… it was all for Riley, however, he was almost certain he’d buy a fucking parrot if you were the one convincing him.

Riley let out a garbled sound, making Simon realize he was still staring at her. And holding up the line. Shit, socializing was more taxing than he thought…

“Thanks…” he mumbled, grabbing his drink and the cup of whipped cream. He carefully directed himself and Riley through the crowd and over to the condiment shelf, setting both items down and adjusting his grip on Riley’s leash. He still had a few hours to kill; it’s a bit cramped in here, he thought as he grabbed a handful of napkins, eyeing the throng of coffee addicts and beatniks in the cafe, there’s always the bench by the fountain on Muller and 4th street, that might-

The sight of your familiar, perfect, sparkling eyes sucked the air and the thoughts from his body in a matter of a single second. That bright personality speared him like a harpoon as you waved from across the café, beckoning him over with a waggle of your fingers. His mind was trying to catch up after being knocked off of its feet, and he finally inhaled.

You looked equally surprised to see him - but he wasn't paying attention to that. He noticed your eyeliner and lipstick, how it made your features even brighter than they typically were. You'd worn your hair down, which was the first time he'd seen it like this since he hired you. Your nails were painted a soft pink, which accentuated the mimosa glass like an orange sunset across a blush sky... and your dress. Of course, it was bright and floral, just like your personality. But it was soft, too. The way it fitted so nicely around you - not too tight, perfectly settled around your shoulders and hips, making you look delicate. Simon was sure if he was to reach out and touch your arm, it would feel like he'd touched the skin of an angel.

He was too stunned to wave back, still frozen in the one spot by the counter as people flowed around him like river water around a stone. It wasn't until Riley had noticed you too and began whining that Simon finally gathered his bearings and nodded his head at you, stuffing the napkins in his pocket.

Two other heads swiveled around from your table and eyed him curiously, and for a moment, he groaned internally; you were with friends. Not horrible, but... not ideal. He didn't care to talk to anyone other than you at the moment – really, ever. Still, you were here, and that trumped all other factors. His anxieties moved to the sidelines when you were on the other end of the path. He clicked his tongue at Riley and grabbed his tea, carefully weaving through patrons and tables to get to you.

"Simon!" You chirped when he approached; you stood up and on your toes, reaching your arms to give him a side hug. He awkwardly stood there, attempting to hug you back by letting his arm curve around your upper back, careful not to spill his tea. Before he could stop himself, he took a deep, quiet breath in, nearly sighing at the smell of your perfume.

So floral and... sweet. Like the bookstore/plant nursery hybrid that he passes when he walks through town on his way for groceries.

You pulled away, and he straightened up. He was suddenly aware of the other two women staring at him.

"So sorry!" You said, turning to your friends. "Simon- this is Leslie, and Nina."

"’Ello." He said quietly, uninterested, and they each responded with their own "hi's". Leslie looked at him with a scrutinous stare, and he could feel her trying to peel him apart layer by layer. She looked like a corporate junkie, with her tight bun and high heels. Nina... she was... odd. She looked at him with her bottom lip between her teeth, eyes half-lidded... it made him uncomfortable. Both with the way she shamelessly ogled, and with how her eyes seemed to be a few unfortunate centimeters too far apart.

"And this is Riley!" You said, bending down and ruffling the dog’s fur. "How ya been, girl?"

She blinked at you as you pet her, sniffing the air between your face and hers. Her tongue hung out of her mouth as she panted, nearly smiling up at you if she could have.

"Ya gone and spoiled her." Simon commented, feeling something warm at the sight of you and Riley. "She wants me to tuck 'er in every day, now. And she's got me runnin' to the dog daycare every week for those bloody biscuits."

Leslie pursed her lips, thinking Simon was being rather rude. You laughed, sitting back down in your seat. "She wasn't spoiled enough, in my opinion. Did she drag you to Poeheko Park yet?"

"She did. Thought I's about to be mugged."

You laughed again. Simon wished he could bottle the sound and keep it in his pocket, so he could pull it out and listen to it over and over whenever he wanted.

"I don't think anyone could mug you, Simon." You said, absentmindedly stroking Riley's fur as she sat next to you.

So you thought he was strong? Invincible? Oh, that did something to him.

"What do you do, Simon?" Leslie asked, sipping her mimosa. "For work?"

Definitely corporate... he thought, from the way her question sounded slightly interrogatory.

"Military." He said bluntly.

Nina's lips curled into a smile; he chose to ignore it.

"Her too?" Leslie pointed at Riley, who sniffed her extended hand.

"She was..." Simon looked down at her, a bit pleased that Riley huffed in distaste at the 'stranger'. "Retired. And a rotten princess now, thanks to you." He turned back to you, his expression lighting up the tiniest bit.

You could sense something - what it was exactly, you couldn't put your finger on it. Simon seemed... tense. Uncomfortable. Maybe he didn't like being thrown into social settings with people he didn't know. You understood it.

"Well-" you said, trying to ignore the way Nina stared at him. "I don't want to interrupt your morning."

"You weren't." He said, still looking at you.

You sent him a glance, and laughed nervously. He continued watching you - God bless anyone who was ever in a staring contest with this man - as Riley sat next to him obediently. Fuck, she was staring at you too...

Leslie looked back and forth between the two of you for a moment, with you blushing furiously, and Simon watching you like you were prey - fortunately, she found an opportunity to come for your rescue.

"Oh, Tyler's here, luv." She said, tilting her head towards the space behind you.

You turned in your seat and smiled, just as a man came up and whisked you out of your chair. You threw your arms around his shoulders and kissed his cheek, and he smiled as his arms wrapped around your waist.

"Thought you were coming by around one?" You said, pulling back to look at his face.

"I was able to pick up the kit from work earlier than I expected, so I thought I'd come by now." He briefly waved at Leslie and Nina, tucking you into his side. "Sorry girls - lookin' lovely, by the way - but I'm stealin' her a bit early today."

Nina waved her hand dismissively. "We had something planned for tomorrow too; go right ahead." Leslie nodded in agreement.

Tyler smiled. "Perfect. Glad it's not too much of a- woah..."

He turned to look – to really take in the sight of the hulking, brooding man beside you, and he was very visibly taken aback. Simon's soft stare had turned into a cold, unforgiving glare. His eyes were hardened with - something. Maybe anger, maybe authority. He stood rigid and tall, with his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt, as he bore holes into Tyler's frame.

Simon took him in: soft, brown hair, a slight tan, rough hands, yet soft features. Slight wrinkles around the eyes from smiling too much. A white shirt and jeans, with a plaid – it made sense, now where your stash had come from.

He liked the way that Tyler was a bit intimidated, as evident by the look in his eyes. What he didn't like, was... Tyler. How he held you close. How you let him hold you. And how he himself felt the urge to snatch you from Tyler's grasp and march you out of the cafe.

"Oh, sorry-" your voice brought them both out of their trance. "Tyler, this is Simon. My client."

"Ah!" Tyler smiled, relaxing a bit as he held his hand out. "Nice to meet you!"

Simon grabbed it firmly, making Tyler wince the tiniest bit as he shook his hand. "Likewise." Not in the slightest.

When he released his hand, Tyler bent down to Riley and offered his hand for a sniff. "I know we've met before, girl."

Simon felt something stir in his gut as Riley sniffed Tyler's hand. "Y' have?" He asked, his voice a bit harsh.

"He's never been in your house." You said quickly, trying to diffuse the tension in the air. "He just tags along for the walks sometimes. Keeps us company.”

Riley IS the company. Y’ don’t need an extra, luv.

"Mm." Simon said gruffly, looking down at Riley. She was sniffing Tyler's closed fist, then leaning back to stare up at Simon. She huffed in distaste.

He fought the urge to smirk. Good girl.

"What do you do, Simon?" Tyler asked, trying to be friendly.

Nina cleared her throat. He's milita-"

"Special Armed Services." Simon interrupted. "Ten years."

Tyler looked impressed. "Shit- that's tough, mate. Makes sense with how you- y'know..." he gestured to Simon's frame, then dropped his hands and cleared his throat. "Eh, nevermind."

"I's fine." Simon replied, standing a bit taller. "What d'you do?"

"Ah- heh, nothin' that impressive. Electrician."

Simon nodded, though it wasn't the answer he was hoping for. It was hard to completely emasculate a man when he did blue-collar work. And even harder when Tyler seemed to respect Simon. It was one thing to be an asshole to an asshole, but it was another to be an asshole to a decent man.

He had to reign himself in. Tyler was your boyfriend. Why was he trying to show the poor lad up after knowing him all for a minute and a half?

"Well, erm..." Leslie cut in. "Looks like you two need to get going, and we're nearly finished here." She smiled at Simon. "It was lovely meeting you!"

"Yeah mate!" Tyler said. "Nice to finally meet you!"

Simon paused for a moment. Normally, he would love to be ripped out of a conversation like this - but now, he'd suffer through the company of a few, annoying strangers if it meant he got to talk to you. But, he obliged, sensing that Leslie wanted him gone for a reason.

"Yeah, likewise." He said, giving Riley a pat, then he looked at you. "Might need you t' watch 'er soon, but I'll email you."

"I'll keep an eye out for it." You said with a flashy smile. "See you later, Simon!"

He grunted and nodded his head, then left them all at the table. Riley stayed dutifully by his side as they made their way through the crowd of cafe patrons.

Simon tried to smell your perfume for as long as it would cling to his shirt. Soon, the scents of coffee, sugar, and teas washed it out, and the lingering warmth your scent brought him had also vanished. The bitterness came right back into his throat, coating his tongue and making him grimace under his mask and his fists clench in his pockets.

Tyler seemed like a good man, and you were happy. He had no business feeling so possessive over something that wasn't his - something that belonged to someone else. He felt like he was missing a screw - his emotions were completely out of control, and he acted compulsively when it came to you. He told himself, as he walked out of the cafe and into the busy sidewalk, that the disappointment of discovering that you were Tyler's would be a good opportunity to work on himself.

He sighed, continuing down the path to the pub. Riley huffed as she trotted next to him, and he suddenly remembered the cup of whipped cream and the dog treat – most likely still abandoned on the condiment counter of the restaurant. “Don’ worry, girl, you can have some’f Johnny’s chips.”

Next ->

[wokelander]

SOFTER, SOFTEST !

ft. curly x fem!reader

tags. piv, body worship sort of, rimming, big dick, tit job for like 2 seconds, creampie, size kink, scent kink, balls…

note. hai.. will get back to leon soon and I think mw fandom is lacking noncon and incest fics severely.. so i will get on that with jimmy. don’t know how to characterise him yet so ooc .. just infatuated with his breasts tbh i don’t know anything works in this universe LMFAO like idk just take this with a grain of salt.. for miss @pupwashing please ignore typos !! unedited :3

You miss Curly.

You miss him more than you did yesterday, more than an idiot misses the point, like a dick misses a wet pussy–You just miss him.

It has been four months. Twenty-one weeks. One-hundred and forty days. Three-thousand, five-hundred and twenty hours. Too many minutes, a hell of a lot more seconds, the closer he gets the further he seems to be.

Big numbers make it feel like you’re getting nowhere so you cut those twenty-fours into one day. One day and he’ll be home. One day and you’ll be in bed with his stomach crushed against yours, the warmth of his flesh searing yours, fucking him into next year, until he loses his halo.

Videos aren’t enough, photos don’t do him justice, toys don’t live up to the feel of a real dick. You miss that face he makes when he cums - it’s a block away from his crying face. You miss him face down, ass up, punching holes into his dignity one thrust at a time. God, you miss that dick, how he goes red all over, him in nothing but that stupid fucking smile.

One day, you tell yourself in the mirror that morning. One day, you tell yourself when you take your lunch break. One day, one more microwaved meal for one, one more lonely night.

It used to be a big deal, you think. The whole going to space thing. Curly says it’s no big deal, but you’re pretty sure that in your great-grandpa’s heyday it was impressive. You’ve seen videos of hoards gathering to watch a ship take off, to greet crews when they landed. Today, it’s you and a plump, older woman in her bathrobe waiting in the cold.

You could spot him in any crowd, glowing like a ray of light, mostly because he’s tall, partly because everything fades into abstraction when you notice how tight his uniform is. Good god. Did he get bigger? You’re starting to sweat, it’s hard to focus when your boyfriend is making a long-sleeved jumpsuit look naughty.

Curly’s hair is a little longer, blond curls licking the nape of his neck, falling onto his forehead, his eyes are so bright and his smile is white. He looks like a policeman’s emotional support dog. A really busty support dog. He scans the sad scattering of friends, family and drivers. You’re so taken off guard by the sight of his buttons popping you almost forget to wave at him.

He beams when you spot him, suitcase dragging behind him as he jogs over. Everything is in slow motion. Like that old movie - Baywatch. He’s so excited to see you, taking you into his big arms, shoving your face in his chest like he knows just where you’d like to be. You’re disappointed in your lungs when they beg for air, lifting your head and placing it on his shoulder instead. He smells like sweat, hotel shampoo and something metallic.

“Oh.” You open your eyes and spot Jimmy skulking behind him, an unlit cigarette between his lips. You narrow your eyes at him, and Jimmy does the same. Real shady guy, the type you’d cross the street to avoid. He’s always trailing after Curly like a bad omen. “He can’t come home with us, honey,” you tell him gently, not wanting to sound like a bitch.

Which you are.

You don’t want him smoking in your car, you don’t want Curly to invite him over for takeout because that means it’ll go on for hours and you won’t get your mouth on his big, stupid dick for another day.

“Hm? Why not?” Curly asks, pressing a kiss into your hairline, the tip of his nose bumping yours tenderly.

“I don’t have space in my car for both of you and the luggage, she’s small. What if she tips over? You’re heavy enough as it is.” You smile at him, cheekily, giving his newfound hips a squeeze. They’ve always been there, but now they’re like wow. It’s only been four months, is he on steroids? Did he get pregnant? He is glowing… God knows what’s up there in the atmosphere, some cosmic horror waiting to knock up your poor boyfriend.

Curly shrugs, offering an apologetic smile to his friend. “You heard the lady.”

Jimmy’s permanent scowl seems to deepen, cementing itself in his dermal layer. “Whatever, man.” He shoves his hands into his pockets, shoulders slumped as he makes a beeline for the phonebox.

He lifts his suitcase and loads it into your car and you watch his biceps flex. You see through his clothes, you remember every freckle on his back, mapping them out like stars, leading to those dimples low on his back, the perfect resting spot for your thumbs when you grab his ass. His body is so convenient. Like he was made to be fucked every which way.

“I missed you, I thought about you everyday,” he says against your lips, leaning in to kiss you over the gearshift. “I put your picture in the cockpit actually, Jim didn’t like it, but it kept me going.”

Always so earnest. You almost feel bad for missing his body more than him.

“Aww, Curly, honey,” you coo, pinching his cheek and cupping the other, “I missed you even more.” He nuzzles into your hand, eyes closed as you comb your fingers through his messy hair.

As much as you would like to indulge his sentimentality, you have no patience to spare. If you sit here any longer, you’re going to soak through your jeans and onto your leather seat.

You put the car in drive—

“Captain? Open up!” There’s a younger man knocking on the window, leaving his grubby handprints behind. “I wanted you to meet my mom!” His voice is muffled through the glass.

You lock the windows.

“Did you lock the windows?” Curly asks, lips downturned like he’s about to pout.

You unlock the windows.

“Of course not, baby.” You pat his head and grit your teeth.

They talk for fifteen whole minutes.

Thank you for taking care of him, he can be such a handful—Oh no, not at all, he was a joy to have—I’m glad he came back in one piece—He’s a good kid—Oh, I don’t know about that—Mooom—I’d be happy to have him back for our next long haul—Seriously, Captain?—

You squirm in place, shifting from side to side, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to your core. When Curly introduces you to his crew mate, you offer a strained smile and nothing more.

The window whirs shut. You make it home in record breaking time with four tickets and only a few points taken off your license. It doesn’t matter. You’re home, inside with the curtains drawn and Curly still has clothes on.

That’s not right.

“Take it off.”

“Huh?” Curly pushes his luggage into the corner, the top few buttons of his jumpsuit have come undone and you see the tuft of blond hair on his chest.

“Take it off, please?”

“My clothes?”

“No, your wig, baby.”

He laughs, good-natured, mild-mannered, and so fucking hot.

If he won’t do it then you will.

“I haven’t even showered—“ He starts, but you shush him with a kiss, murmuring a ‘good’ against his pink mouth.

When you part, spit keeps your lips connected, the string of fate or whatever. You go in for another, hands fisting the fabric of his collar, forcing him down towards you. Curly lets out a keening noise somewhere in the back of his throat like a dog scratching at the bathroom door.

“I know, my baby, I’ll give it to you.” You pout at him, thumbing his kiss-swollen lips and watching his eyes droop. “Oh no…” The buttons on his uniform when you try to open them.

“It’s okay,” he mumbles through a mouthful of his own spit, “cheap stuff.”

“I know, but you looked so good in it.” It’s a shame, but you need to see him bare, sweat as his only accessory.

“You think?” He near bats his lashes at you, stepping out of his uniform, and you swoon.

“God, yeah.” You push him down on the couch, Curly falls back with a soft grunt. It’s not very big, especially for a man of his size, but it’ll do for now.

His cock swells in his boxers, you feel it beneath you as you sit atop him, admiring the view below. The wide expanse of his chest, the sweat pooling in his collarbones, those tits. You don’t know what else they could be.

“Wow.” You take a handful of his chest, plucking his puffy pink nipple. “Look at these, I might have some competition.”

“Shut it,” he huffs out a laugh through his nose, and the tips of ears redden.

“I’m serious, baby, you’re, like, huge.” You can’t tear your eyes away from his soft flesh, moulding beneath your fingertips like dough, you could fuck them if you really wanted. “What happened out there?”

“Had a lot of spare time, I guess.” Curly smiles sheepishly, expression contorting when you bend your neck to suck his nipple into your mouth with a wet pop! His jaw slackens, and his cock jumps like it’s been given quite the fright.

You only have one complaint. His tan lines have faded. Floating through the galaxy for months on end can do that to you. You miss them, but you missed Curly more, so you’ll make do with what you have.

And you have more than enough. More than you can handle really. You can’t even get a grasp on his bicep, he’s stupidly big and your hand is on the smaller side.

You shift backwards, wet cunt dragging over his impossibly big bulge where only his underwear keeps you from him - you kind of admire your pussy for being able to take it. Your mouth moves on, hands still groping as much as you can of his chest as you lick the ridges of his stomach, it’s like he’s forged out of marble.

Softly, Curly rubs the back of your head, trying his very best to keep his eyes on you and not let them fall shut. You feel his stomach muscles rippling under your tongue. They contract when you trace around his navel, placing a sloppy kiss just below it, where a patch of curly hair leads to his wet cock.

His cock is drooling through the white fabric of his boxers, they’re soaked enough to be see-through, you spot the fat, pink head that has been missing your kisses. “You’re so wet, baby, is it all for me?”

With a pitiful noise, he tosses his head back and nods sadly. It’s funny to hear a man of his stature whine, but it suits Curly so well.

Your fingers hook in the waistband, tugging his underwear downwards until his fat cock springs out, it’s so fucking fat it weighs itself down. The leaky head twitches, pre dripping down his thick shaft, leaving a moonlit trail to his heavy balls. So full of seed they might burst.

“Oh… Poor baby.” You give them a gentle squeeze, and Curly’s eyes roll back into his skull, hips jolting upwards.

The urge to take it into your mouth right then and there is tempting, you hold back, you want to take your time with him. Make him feel special. You seat yourself between his thighs, one leg thrown over your shoulder so it’s easier to fit on the sofa. Your thumb runs along his pink slit, dribbling out pearly strands of pre that web between your fingers. Curly whimpers, biting down on his fist.

“These are cute.” You take note of his meaty thighs, how they’ve only gotten bigger, a comfier place to sit. The stretch marks don’t go unnoticed, streaking purple and pink along the milky flesh of his inner thighs like faded brushstrokes.

“Mmmph.” He blinks at you, pouty, lashes wet with impatient tears.

“Yeah, mmmph, I know, baby, be patient.” You’re a big, fat hypocrite.

His scent is stronger down here, clean and soapy, but the tang of sweat prospers, and the underlying smell of him. The smell of his pillow, the smell of his few-days old clothes, the smell of his towel after he works out.

A few more kisses here and there, using the flat of your tongue to lave over strips of his sinewy skin, leaving him spit-slicked and breathless and flushed. You hoist his other leg over your shoulder, he’s heavy, but you’re horny and it’s given you a sudden burst of vitality.

“Fuck,” he gasps out, gripping the top of the couch, one arm over his face as you lick up the seam of his balls, mouth latching to the swollen underside, where they feel heaviest.

Curly’s cock leaks into your hair, the weight brings it down to rest on your face, tip pressed into your hairline, dripping down the bridge of your nose like sweat while you make a mess of his balls. Stuffing them into your mouth one at a time, using your hand to give the lonelier one a squeeze when your lips are kissing up on another.

The kiss to his perineum is enough to make him moan. Curly knows what’s coming. You go lower, nose nestled into his balls, breathing him while your hands spread his ass cheeks apart to get to the spot you love most.

Curly’s hole is darker than the rest of him, not quite pink like his cock, ruddier. He’s tight and he smells good. So good. You’ve never minded the hair, you think it’s pretty cute. Curtains match the drapes.

Affectionately, you kiss his puffy rim, and it throbs.

He lets out a groan that is half mortified and half ready-to-blow-his-load.

“Sure,” Curly says, voice breaking as you circle his hole with the tip of your tongue. He tastes like him, musky and sweet and coppery. Curly is home and your tongue is in his ass where it belongs, wriggling its way past his pulsing rim, hopefully all the way up into his heart.

Your thumb and middle finger stretch to meet around the girth of his cock, stroking him slowly as you work open his asshole, tongue pushing back in when he pushes you out. Once you deem him wet enough, you push a single finger knuckle-deep and he cries out, hips bucking up off the couch.

Much to his dismay, which he shows in the form of a pained whimper, your hand leaves his cock to splay over his stomach and hold him down to the best of your abilities. “You have to stay still, honey.”

You feed a second finger into him, his hole squelching as you curl them inside of him. Curly clenches tight enough to cut off your blood circulation, sucking you back in when you ultimately pull them out with a lewd noise. He opens his mouth on instinct, pupils so blown out his light eyes seem dark, you push your fingers down his throat and he sucks.

“You’re so cute,” you mumble, watching him intently, he’s like a pin-up model of some sort. An X-rated action figure. “Taste good?”

“Not really,” Curly says. He’s so honest it makes you laugh. He shuffles back to rest his head on the arm of the couch, cock bobbing, still leaking like nobody’s business, leaving little droplets of wet in its wake.

It’s ready to burst, but you’re not done with him yet. You haven’t had your fill. When you spend half your time with your head between his thighs, you miss out on all the faces he pulls. So you spit on your tits to get them wet, his cock is slick enough, nothing should chafe when you squeeze his cock between them.

“Christ,” Curly grits out, brows knitting together, the second coming and he hasn’t even had his first.

“You wanna cum like this?” You ask, kneading your tits on either side of his cock, each time the tip pops up past your cleavage, it bumps your chin and leaves it slick.

“No…” He shakes his head, curls bouncing, sticking to his forehead, the hair near his nose is curlier with the added sweat. “Inside.”

“I can do that for you, babe.” You smile at him, acting like that wasn’t your plan in the first place, like you haven’t been dying for a warm creampie since he landed back on earth. You give the fat head of his dick one sloppy kiss, making sure to tongue his slit before you clamber on top of him.

It should be an easy task to get him inside, you’ve been wet for the last twenty-four hours, your pussy is throbbing like it’s got a heartbeat. Slick dries on your inner thighs and your clit is buzzing, a rush of arousal passes over you like a cold wave when you lift your hips to guide his dick into you.

Oh. Wow. That’s a stretch. 

In theory, you know big Curly’s dick is. It’s a fucking horsecock, and you have eyes bigger than your stomach. You always overestimate yourself. You think you’re gonna be just fine, then his fat tip breaches your little hole, no matter how wet, and you lose it, scrambling to grasp his shoulders as your body is racked with shivers.

Curly’s kind enough to steady you, big hands finding purchase on your hips. His needy noises get through to you, and you push on, sliding down and taking him to the hilt. His dick curves upwards into your cervix, rubbing the fleshy opening as you adjust to his dick after four whole months of nothing worthwhile.

He’s so big. You’re so wet, slippery pussy slicking up his cock, and making things easier for the both of you.

“I love you.” Curly shudders, looking right into your eyes like he’s afraid to blink and miss a single thing.

“I love you too,” you tell him, eyes on his tits.

He’s so deep, feet planted on the couch as he fucks into you, unable to help himself. You get it. You’re tight, warm, and wet. Better than his fist. Your pussy is noisy, squelching each time you bottom you, grinding your clit into his pelvis, feeling his cock twitch each time you tighten around him. The plap of his balls hitting your ass when enough momentum is built up.

Curly’s helpful, when he sees you tense up, throwing your head back and rolling your hips over and over, you want him deeper and deeper, he wets his fingers with your slick and rubs figure eights into your clit.

It’s just enough to make your toes curl—Oh, who are you kidding? You near blackout when you cum, moaning so loud you scare yourself. You see black. Like someone’s drawn the curtains in your mind, ending the show. Your nails dig into his skin, but he’s always put up with that like a champ.

“Holy fuck.” Shaking still, you blink to clear your vision, you’ve wet his navel and his tummy and the couch might be ruined. You don’t even remember when he came inside you. What a shame. Feels good though, still warm. Sighing, you lay against his chest, Curly’s soft cock slips out of your hole, resting on his thigh. “Welcome home, Captain.”

[mrslaflour]

ᙏ̤̫ — ARE YOU GOING TO THE GRAPE TEAMS PARTY TONIGHT ? ? ! !

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ ot5 x fem!reader

genre ⸝⸝⸝ smut, dark (noncon), football player txt, cheerleader reader, reader is under 21 but 18 or over (implied)

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ txt are serial r8pists, unprotected sex, noncon, mean dom!txt, language, name calling, anal.., reader is dry (referring to her 😽), really not much prep on certain members, reader does not enjoy this in any way, drinking, smoking, reader is a virgin but she never states that to them, the things they do to her get more and more wild as each person takes their ‘turn’, possible murder allusions, suffocation, choking, oral (both), hair pulling, fingering, nipple play, gagging, riding, tummy bulge,

summary ‎⸝⸝⸝ after every important football game, 5 of some of the star football players at the school pick one cheerleader to “mess with”. the school knows them as the grape team, so clearly people know that they’re r8pists, no? no it’s not true at all! it’s just some stupid rumors girls make up for attention! they’re just jealous they can’t be with them so they want to make them look bad and are just trying to ruin their futures. how wrong of them to do such a thing, right? they’re just pitiful jealous whores…

your school had to be the absolute most stereotypical school from every tv show. dumb blondes, cheerleaders with big tits, football players with big dicks, nobody had a personality of their own. everybody on their knees for the star football team. as much as your school was filled with the stereotypical rich kid who’s daddy thinks that they’re going to be an all star athlete soon to be in the olympics, they kind of had every right to think that. your school had one of the best football teams in your whole city. it was rare that you ever heard that your school lost, it was basically unheard of. but within that big football team consists of a decently sized click. the grape team is what everyone knows them as. for really fucked up reasons too.

everyone knows them as the five sexy football players that every girl would love to get railed by, even just one of them! or you know them as the five football boys who once a year pick a cheerleader, typically the new girl on the block, to invite to their party, get her all fucked up and dizzy, bring her up to their bedroom, and fuck her so hard to the point she’s knocked out and doesn’t even remember waking up to go to school that day. but those are just rumors! come on, nobody would ruin their perfect all star record just to sleep with some bimbo cheerleader who supposedly didn’t want it when they could literally have any girl they wanted with the consent part involved. these girls are just mad that they didn’t want to fuck them or they didn’t want to date them so they go around saying these things just to try to ruin their chances of being a star. jealousy is such an awful disease. either that or these girls got too damn drunk to remember telling them that they could fuck her.

“she’s such a whore. i’d die to even get looked at by them.”

“who cares if they r8ped them or not? at least you’re getting fucked by the five hottest guys in school. any girl would kill for an opportunity like that.”

“if the rumors are true, can they r8p me next? i’ve been dying just to get yeonjun to even talk to me…”

see! it’s really not serious. these are baseless rumors that are just a joke to people. they’re not called the grape team because they actually r8p girls, they’re called the grape team because it’s an inside joke between the school, duh! and plus, they don’t seem to mind it. in fact, whenever anybody calls them that to their face they just laugh and smile. it clearly doesn’t bother them so it’s obviously all rumors.

you’d be lying if you said they weren’t cute. oh they were. but weather or not you thought the rumors were true, you don’t care enough to go after these boys. it’s weird to be accused by multiple people in the first place, you don’t really want tied up in all that. you had basically just joined the cheer team. you had saw them a few times over your cheer camp during practices and even in the hallway before you joined, but never interacted with them. besides staring at them thinking about how big it is, or besides having a project with a few of them! but hey, everybody has thought about it at least once, including the guys in the school.

usually every friday you’d cheer, hype up the audience, you know. and on the big game days, they always threw a huge party to celebrate. they weren’t a frat but shit that’s what it seemed like a lot of the time. practically the whole school goes. there was a rumor once that a teacher went. did she get railed too? you had never been to one because until this year, you hadn’t been that involved with your peers. but everybody goes, and it’d be a nice way to fit in more, no? interact with your cheer team and get even closer and connect with the people you’re cheering for, the football team! plus, all your friends were badgering you to go, so you basically had to.

it was the end of a huge game that the team had just won and you’re chatting it up with your cheer team. people slowly start to leave as time goes on and there’s less and less of you there. it’s silent for a few seconds after all the laughing and excitement until you hear a voice behind you.

“you’re going, right?”

you turn around to see soobin, a member of said grape squad talking to you for the first time ever. you were a little confused so you spoke up.

“uh, going where?”

“the party tomorrow night?”

you mentally slapped yourself in the face. duh it was about the party. but why’s he asking you to your face? anybody can go. but you brush it off. it’s probably because you never go but now since you’re on the team it’s kind of expected.

“yeah, uhm, i planned on being there.”

“great. hope to see you there then.”

he gave you a light smile and then that was it. he just walked away. it felt off to you, something about his demeanor, but whatever. probably just because of how tall he is, yeesh, how does one even get that tall, it was kind of scary, especially considering the ‘rumors’……but you head home and for some reason laying in bed, you couldn’t fall asleep. It’s usually not hard after a long game..but after tossing and turning in your bed for what felt like hours, you finally fell asleep getting ready for a long day tomorrow.

—-

“she’s coming right?”

“she said she would.”

“she’s gotta be the prettiest one we’re ever gonna fuck.”

“she’s a sweet girl on the outside but probably a sick fuck on the inside. shit, by the end, i’m sure she’ll love it. they all end up wet and slutty by the end of it all.”

—

if we’re being honest, you would have forgotten about the party and skipped it if your friend hadn’t literally came to your house to force you awake and get each other ready.

“what are you wearing?”

your friend asked. she was wearing a crop top with a short ass skirt just barely about to show her panties.

“certainly not what you’re wearing. with that outfit you’ll be the next victim of the grape team.”

you joke with her. she just scoffs before speaking up.

“any girl would be lucky to get fucked by them let alone looked at by them weather they liked it or not. so you can go ahead and sign me up!”

she said some crazy shit sometimes. no way she meant it…

“i’m just gonna wear a tight fitted top and some ripped jeans, i have nobody to impress and i’m not staying long.”

she just rolled her eyes. but hey, baby steps. this was your first party after all. it’d be one to remember.

“you don’t think there’s gonna be another rumor after this party?”

you asked. just curiosity makes you think. plus if you’re going to a party then why wouldn’t you talk about the people throwing it?

“after every big game there’s a new rumor. it’s obviously going to happen again. if only they could make that rumor a reality for me. tch, such a disappointment..”

you roll your eyes, she said dumb things no matter how fucked up they were. you didn’t agree with them but what can you do.

“we’ll see what happens when we get there..”

she winks.

“but we should head out now. we don’t wanna get there super late when everybody’s drunk and you can’t even speak to someone without getting thrown up on.”

—

walking into the party was loud as fuck. how had this place not gotten a noise complaint yet…? the amount of alcohol on the table and who knows what being smoked and the party quite literally had just started is crazy. drinking wasn’t your thing. you weren’t twenty-one and most of these people weren’t either but who gives a shit it’s a party. your friend immediately ran over to a guy she saw that she thought was good looking and then you didn’t know where to go. sit on the couch? go near the table full of drinks? no clue. you felt so out of place. ew. you spot some of your cheer team so you push through some people to get to them, smoke blowing on your face and you practically coughing your lungs out certainly was not fun. once you finally reached them you say hi and hug a few people and start talking.

“wow, i’m surprised you actually came. have you had a drink yet?”

you roll your eyes.

“no i have not, and no i don’t plan on it. i’m the one who drove here after all…”

“drunk driving is totallyyyyyy the trend now. literally everyone you’ve ever talked to has probably done it at least once. get some hunky firefighter to save you after you crash your car and have to strip you clean to treat your burns. maybe he’ll fuck you just in the right spot and wake you up. who needs cpr anymore when you have a huge dick right in front of your face?”

what a wild take. but that’s what most people at your school had. wild ass takes. but weather you disagree or not the only thing you can do is just laugh it off or be honest and give a disgusted face. after about 10 minutes of talking you feel a big ass hand lay on your shoulder for a second before lifting off. you turn around and it’s kai. it was crazy to think he was wrapped up in this grape squad shit. he seems as sweet as pie, a friendly giant you guess…

“i’m glad to see you decided to come! if i’m being honest i had doubts..”

you rub the back of your neck and do a light laugh.

“i’ve heard that one a lot tonight..”

you see him look back and notice the rest of their little squad standing by a small table with a few other people from the football team and just around school. he turns his head back around to you and smiles.

“hey, sorry we weren’t proper party hosts and welcomed you in. especially me, this is my house after all…but how about you come over there and we’ll talk a little. we know everyone on the cheer team pretty well except for you after all.”

eh, what could the harm be. it was only a few steps from where you were originally at anyways. you say bye to the people you were speaking with for a little and walk over to the rest of his little frat. the conversation the guys over here were having were mainly about girls and drugs. what a topic starter.

“so, what made you decide to join the cheer team?”

someone speaks up. you couldn’t see him too well despite the height until he pokes his head from behind one of his teammates. it was beomgyu. the troublemaker of the school. the class clown. he was probably the one person in the group that people didn’t like as much.

“uh, i don’t know. just needed something to do other than work i guess.”

they give a slight nod before they go back to their random conversation. you contemplate walking away. you were having funner with the people you actually knew after all.

“so, would you like me to grab you a drink? sorry i didn’t ask before. we have vodka shots and a bunch of other alcoholic stuff if you’d like.”

kai spoke up. trying to live up to what he said before and be an amazing party host. but just because it’s a party doesn’t mean you have to do illegal shit. that’s another thing people keep asking you about.

“sorry, i don’t drink. plus i drove here myself so tonight is not the night that i wanna try, aha.”

it’s much easier to mask the taste of a drug in alcohol than in something like water or juice…but you didn’t know that. all you knew was that this party was not fun to you at all and that it sure was a new experience but now that you’ve experienced it for a few minutes, you’re ready to go home. he tried to offer you something else to drink but you just weren’t really down for it right now. you’re sure you would be soon though. all this second hand smoke blowing down into your lungs was making your throat dryer and itchier by the second. but there was one thing you needed, a bathroom. all this water on the table from spilt drinks and all the gulping of water and the faucets turning on were not helping you hold it. you were hoping you wouldn’t have to ask for anything and have as little interaction with people you didn’t know as possible but you certainly weren’t gonna piss your pants in front of basically the whole school. they would probably be too drunk to remember, but still.

“uh kai, where’s your bathroom?”

he smiles. people can be bubbly and happy sure, but man he seemed way too happy to be telling you where the bathroom is.

“upstairs in my room! second room on the right.”

you thank him before heading off. it was going pretty decent so far. no bad interactions, no tripping on your face, the only thing that was bad was that you were bored..but hey! once your friend quits kissing up on guys then you’ll have a little bit more fun…you walk up kais steps and look down the hallway. “second room on the right…” you mumble to yourself damn this hallway was long. he was for sure a rich kid but you could tell that from the outside of his house. then again, he’s blonde, tall, plays football, and every girl wants to fuck him. it’d be a surprise if he wasn’t rich. you finally find the room and surprise surprise, the size of his bed is damn near bigger than your whole bedroom size. you see a door in the corner of the room and assume it leads to the bathroom. you lock it and do your business before washing your hands and then drying them off. you open your phone to check the time. “already twelve? sheesh…” you check your notifications too. a few missed texts but eh, you could check them later. you unlock the bathroom door and there you see the whole grape squad standing in kais room. did they have to use the bathroom too? this rich ass house, they must have at least three bathrooms and you couldn’t have been in there for too long…

“you really don’t drink?”

taehyun speaks up. the quiet charming one that didn’t even have to try to get girls to look at him. one stare and he had them like jelly in the palm of his hand.

“uh, no…not my thing i’m still not twenty-one and once again, i did drive here and i don’t wanna wreck my car. with my college debt i won’t get a new one until i’m at least thirty…”

you mumbled that last part. but uh, you didn’t really see what drinking had to do with any of this but you didn’t wanna just stand and have a silent staring contest so you just kind of scoot by going for the door before a hand grabs your wrist. yeonjun.

“if you would just be bad for once in your life, maybe you’d be able to enjoy this just a little. maybe even forget about it if you were fucked up enough and fucked out enough, but i guess now we’ll never know.”

you stilled, trying to comprehend the words he had just said before he starts pushing you onto the bed. it’s pretty evident on what’s happening so you of course go to scream but he quickly palms your mouth. he finally presses you to the bed and allows everybody to figure out what position they’d like to take. i mean come on, nobody stood a chance against five tall ass guys who play football. you would’ve been doomed even if you were a guy yourself. even if you had just been going against one of them you wouldn’t have escaped this fate. you start trying to kick your legs from underneath him before somebody pushes them down into the bed.

“soobin can’t go first this time. everytime he’s gone first or second his dick is too big and they don’t even feel the slightest bit of pleasure after and it ruins it for everybody….”

you squeeze your eyes shut, this must be a dream right? there’s no way this is real. sure you thought the rumors had to have some truth but even if they were completely true (which now you know, clearly they are) you wouldn’t have ever expected them to go after you. but i guess it makes sense. new cheerleader just trying to fit in and wants more friends, so what does she do? says she’s another victim of the grape squad to gain some popularity and a few new connections. it would make sense. or would you be one of the ones who didn’t tell anybody? eh, didn’t matter right now. all that matters is that they get their dick wet and have a new little image to imagine every time they need to get off.

“just hold her mouth shut and hold her legs down so i can fuck her without having to deal with her kicking me in the dick or making me have to stop right when i’m about to orgasm because somebody heard her.”

from the way he was speaking, you could guess yeonjun was the leader of this shit. soobin was the leader on the football team but this wasn’t football. this was ‘how many girls can we r8p before we graduate??!’ and it was pretty clear that yeonjun led that shit. besides taehyun, the guy was charming as fuck. seemed like prince charming. you feel the bed dip right where your head was. you open your eyes to see a beomgyu laying on his stomach, face right above yours with a sick smile on his face. yeonjun removes his hands from your mouth before beomgyu quickly replaces the empty space with his hands. He places his chin on your forehead and then gives an almost taunting kiss to it. his hands were basically holding your head still, so you couldn’t really turn away from it. yeonjun then sits up on his knees on the side of your hips and puts all his body weight on your stomach while pushing your wrists to your chest.

“this will be fun. we’ve never not drugged a girl out before fucking her for hours like this. i’m curious to see how it’ll go.”

he says all this with a smile on his face while looking you dead in the eyes. you hadn’t noticed but kai had left the room. probably to attend to the party and not seem suspicious. most people were drunk but there’s always a few sober people and it’s been years that they’ve been at this, they don’t wanna blow their cover now. you also notice that taehyun is leaning in a chair against the wall. his pants are unzipped, he was probably gonna beat to this shit, sick bastard. and then obviously by process of elimination, soobin was holding your legs down, and strong as fuck at that. you couldn’t even move it the slightest inch. you feel his chin move on your forehead as he speaks up.

“the fun begins now. are you ready?”

he loosened his hands jussstttt a little so he could let you shake your head no before tightening them back up. you felt yeonjuns finger prodding with the buttons on your jeans and feel your pants slightly loosening as he unzips them. what makes this all the more worse is you can’t even lift your fucking head to see what he’s doing.

“i haven’t even done anything yet and you’re already crying. don’t worry, you’ll be crying a hell of a lot more by the end of the night.”

he hadn’t even bothered to take ur shirt off. hadn’t even bothered to prep you, nothing. you couldn’t lift ur head but u could see him sitting above you and saw that sly ass look on his face as he quickly forced it in. didn’t take his time at all, as if he wanted it to be as painful as possible. you quickly squeeze your eyes shut and start trying to kick your legs as hard as you can, start trying to shake your head free, try your hardest to move your wrists away but nothing works. beomgyus thumb starts wiping at the tears falling onto his hand and you hear a snicker come from him. yeonjun goes down to prep you (a little too late so not really prep..”) starts rubbing your clit in circles and almost is in shock that you or your body isn’t enjoying this at all.

“fuck you’re dry as hell. stubborn, huh? let me tell you a secret,”

he leans in to your ear scarily close,

“i’d suggest you start to enjoy it or you’re in for one hell of a night. seven hours at the minimum sounds terrible if you’re not enjoying it, no?”

he says all this shit while still ramming into you, still trying to get u damp but his efforts are in vain. your friend would notice though. she’d wonder where her ride went and they’d say you were last seen with them. she’d go up the stairs looking for you and find out what was going on. she’d get help, right? or would they easily lie their way out of it. would they let you go to avoid suspicion? no. they’re all cocky fucks who think they’re the hottest best people in the school, they’re not gonna let their ego fold that easily. they won’t get caught that—

“i can usually go longer but you are tight as fuck, you a virgin?”

you realized he finished. you felt his dick getting pulled out as painful and rough as it was forced in you. you felt something wet dripping down your thighs and you knew it wasn’t from you. it was his cum dripping down. your eyes were still squeezed shut, not wanting any of them to see your teary eyes. you were so embarrassed, so violated. and even worse, you didn’t want him to know you were a virgin. that this night was the night you’d always remember as your first time..

“how was it?”

“it was amazing. might need round two later. this is so much better than just drugging them up. so much funner, so much tighter, so much squirmier.”

“you can say that again, she almost bit my hand off..”

it was so eerie to hear them talking like this as if you weren’t even here listening to them.

“here i’m gonna go next. you take her mouth, i’ll take her ass.”

you had never been fucked in general since five fucking seconds ago, but in your ass? fuck no. and when you heard him say “take her mouth” you knew exactly what he meant and you just wanted out of this room. beomgyu was always the sly one. the funny one. the one half of the school loved and half of the school was annoyed as fuck by and hated. clearly he liked jokes but taking your ass was a pretty fucking sick one. they tell soobin to let go of your legs and you immediately start kicking. yeonjun flips you on your stomach while beomgyu lets go of your mouth. you hadn’t even gotten the chance to scream, your face immediately getting slammed into the sweaty mattress. beomgyu swiftly grabs your wrists, now uncomfortably forced behind your back in one hand and yeonjun is sitting up in front of your face on his knees with his dick still out of his pants. he forces your head up by grabbing a fist full of your hair. you wanted to scream immediately but the threatening look on his face made you not wanna test him. but also you knew as soon as you opened your mouth what would happen. he’d shove it in there without a care in the world just like he did your pussy. he stares into your eyes for a good second before speaking up.

“oh look at all those tears. you’ll be crying a lot more when ur choking on my dick. open up.”

you tried forcing your head to look the other way but he only squeezed your hair even tighter. he holds his dick in one hand and starts trying to force it through your tightly squeezed lips. as if almost on cue beomgyu forces his dick in you pretty little ass. slower than when yeonjun fucked you, but still too fast for your liking. that made you open your mouth to scream in pain, but it was quickly muffled by his dick. beomgyu was showing you some sort of mercy, but only because he needed to get used to how fucking tight you were and how much your ass was pulling him in. you realized that your feet were still free so you start kicking at his back trying to squirm free. ultimately, that made your head move a little further down yeonjuns dick and you gagged so fucking hard, you thought you would throw up. he quickly pulled the air through his teeth on that one holding in a grunt.

“i love to feel a struggle it only makes me even harder. go ahead and bruise up my back with your kicks, i love it so—fuck-much”

so they didn’t just forget to hold your legs down but it was for beomgyus sick pleasure too. it was futile anyways. it only got him off more and even if you had heels on and stuck the heel through his back he’d only keep thrusting even harder into you.

“you better hold your mouth open as wide as you can, if you fucking bite my dick i swear to god it’s over for you”

you never heard of any missing people or dead people at your school from the grape team or just in general but you didn’t know what he meant and you didn’t wanna take any chances. he quickly grips your hair even harder and pushes it as far back as he can. feeling your throat tighten and gag and cough up on his dick, he couldn’t help but groan. it hurt so so bad. feeling your ass being pounded and feeling like you’re about to throw up all over his bed from the amount of gagging you’re doing. you don’t even wanna know what they’d do or say if you threw up. you try to squirm your wrists free, try to kick even harder but beomgyu only squeezes your wrists tighter, you only feel his cock twitch more at the kicking, and when you try to turn your head you only feel your scalp burning more and as if he’s about to rip out a huge chunk of your hair. you feel him shoot his cum down your throat and you immediately start trying to spit it out while his dick is still in your mouth. you can’t even focus on that though because you still have this sadistic fuck ramming into you and grabbing ur ass every few seconds, gripping his nails into it.

“don’t waste it all. you know it’s an honor that we’re even doing this to you. show us some respect.”

respect? an honor? was he joking? he takes his dick out of ur mouth before he slams your face right into the mattress. you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t scream, couldn’t struggle because your hair was still in a tight grip, couldn’t do anything but hope he let you go before you suffocated. you feel beomgyu pause before groaning loudly and finally pulling out. he did it slowly, almost teasingly, but he did it. and when he did yeonjun finally let you breathe. the only thing you could do was gasp for air and let out a few sobs. you couldn’t even scream for help you were so out of breath.

“please—stop-”

you were about to sob out loud. you were barely even able to get those two words out. tripping over your words. snot running down your nose and tears staining your face. no sense of privacy besides the fact that they still hadn’t taken off your shirt and your jeans were stuck just above your knees. even though nobody was holding your legs down it still made it difficult. you wrists still in beomgyus tight grip.

“does it really matter if she screams? everybody’s probably blackout drunk by now.”

taehyun speaks up. it’s the first thing he’s said since this whole ordeal started. he’s just been sitting in the corner getting off to this fucked up shit. you could hear his small groans and curses every once in a while but it’s hard to focus on so many things at once in a situation like this. but what if he was right? what if you screamed and nobody heard it? what if you screamed and somebody heard but they just didn’t care..

“the party is loud as hell. unless she screams fucking crazy nobody should hear.”

you wanted to scream but you also didn’t want to give them what they wanted. they wanted to hear you scream. you’d just been sobbing and saying small ows under the palm of beomgyus hand earlier. you hadn’t had any moans of pleasure at all. but they didn’t care, they were here for themselves, not you. yeonjun grabbed your chin and forced you to kiss him. you had no hands to push him away and he held your head perfectly still. he finally leaned away after what felt like forever even though it was probably only ten seconds.

“i’m gonna go down with kai, i’ll be back before the fun part.”

the fun part…? you didn’t wanna know. that evil smirk on yeonjuns face and the uncomfortable silence in the room spoke volumes though. you hear the door open and shut. you feel beomgyu let go of your wrists and you immediately sit up. at the end of the bed you just see three faces staring, piercing right into your eyes. you immediately go to pulling up your jeans and your panties before two strong hands grip both of your wrists. you slowly look up only to see taehyun staring intensely at you. as if daring you to move. he quickly pushes your chest down and you start yelling at him to get off of you.

“get off of me you asshole!”

you were pulling his hair and smacking him and you could tell he was getting frustrated. he rolls the front of your shirt up trying to get a view of your chest. finally starting to strip you clean of everything.

“does he have—shitthisfuckingbitch— scissors somewhere?”

he finally got sick of your antics and landed a clean slap on your face and you finally let go of his hair. you go to scream and he only slaps you again. he stared at your now red face and looked at you dead in your face. he was telling you to go ahead and do something else using his eyes. you didn’t wanna know how else he’d hurt you. someone finally hands him scissors and you try to push yourself up before he can cut your shirt. he puts one hand on your waist to hold you in place and one hand presses the tip of the scissors right into your collarbone.

“if you move you’ll get cut and it won’t be my fault, so i’d suggest you quit being so whiney and just be an obedient fucking whore.”

you still quickly. taehyun had to be the scariest to you. he didn’t speak much he just went straight in and tried to avoid as much talking as he could. he just wanted to get what he took you for and go on with his day. he cut your shirt off and then he goes to cut your bra off, but he quickly realizes he can’t because it’s a wired bra and he couldn’t cut through it. he puts the scissors to the side and sits up on top of you.

“take your bra off.”

you’re confused at what he just said and just lay there trying to cover up your chest.

“..what…?”

“sit up and take your bra off.”

his stare was going to be the death of you. you slowly sat up but you just looked down at your bare legs with tears streaming down your face. it was humiliating enough for him to cut up your shirt but to make you take your own bra off to get r8ped by him? it would’ve been less embarrassing if he did it himself.

“i said take it off. i’m not going to do it for you. i could always do more than a slap. and the scissors are right here.”

your start sniffling and choking on your sobs from trying not to sob outloud and give them the satisfaction. in the corner of your eyes you can see soobin getting even harder (if that was even possible) and beomgyu standing there about to unzip his pants again and start jacking off right there.

“don’t make me tell you again.”

you start un-clipping your bra as slow as you can. you slowly take the straps off your arms and slowly let the bra drop to your thighs. the only bit of coverage that you had now. he quickly throws it to the floor and pushes you back down. he starts pinching your nipples and swirling his tongue around them. you try pushing his head away but he just bites your nipple causing you to yelp. he moves away and towers over you once again. you see his hand start to move lower and he quickly starts fingering you with two fingers. you quickly go from hugging your chest to pushing against his and yelling at him to stop.

“damn you’re still barely wet? at least it’s getting there. i really don’t even need to do this. yeonjun already fucked you here so it’s ready for me but i’m choosing to be nice. do you think i’m nice?”

you quickly shake your head no and he just scoffs with a smirk. you finally decide to scream for help and all he does is take the fingers that were fucking you and forces them in your mouth and down your throat. he starts moving them around and it causes you to gag over and over.

“should i make you throw up? make you clean up the mess with your tongue while i fuck your ass?”

you only gag more around his fingers with tears spewing out your eyes before he finally pulls them out and you have a coughing fit. too busy coughing and wiping your face, you failed to notice that he already had his dick out and was rubbing the tip against your entrance. finally slightly wet, but still not wet enough where it would go in smoothly.

“wait wait wait! please don’t..!”

he just laughs.

“what? you don’t want me to?”

you mumble some no’s just barely audible to him.

“ok then, you can do it.”

confused, he grabs your hips with both hands and drags your body all the way onto his dick. you quickly wince at the feeling of being so full and once again go to trying to push him off of you. the only thing he does is grab your neck with his hand and start putting pressure and squeezing, successfully blocking your air flow. you start scratching at his arms and he just throws his head back while still thrusting into you. the sweat causing his hair to stick to his face. you go to kick at him but realize that when you flail your legs more into different positions that the feeling of him only gets worse so you just keep your legs still. however, you were still scratching at his arms, afraid you were gonna pass out and then they’d do who knows what else to you. he started to squeeze tighter and you finally started fearing for your life. trying to open your mouth to beg him to stop but no words came out.

“quit —shit-fighting me and i’ll let u-fuck!—i’ll let you breathe.”

not even having a second thought you let your hands drop to your sides and he finally lets go. you just turn your head to the side, trying to force it into the pillow to silently cry as he finishes up. he grabs your chin, and you flinch thinking he’s about to choke you again, but he just turns your chin to face him and he speaks up.

“i want you to look me in the eyes as i finish or i’m gonna make sure this whole thing for you lasts way longer than planned.”

of course he was probably lying but you didn’t want to take the chance. you hear the door open while he continues to look you in the eyes and thrust into you but you can’t even check to see who came in because you didn’t want to look away. you didn’t wanna take any chances. but once you see his eyes squeeze shut and him throw his face forward and feel the same dripping sensation out of your pussy that you’ve felt the whole night, you know he’s done. he slowly pulls out just to tease you before shaking a bit of his cum onto your legs and on your stomach before moving over. it was kai who had come back to the room, staring at you in awe.

“she’s still awake? and i missed all the fun?”

taehyun scoffs at him.

“the no drugs is so much better than what we’ve ever done before. come get a taste for yourself.”

he was speaking as if you were some meal waiting to get eaten. it was gross. it was sickening that nobody there probably even saw you as a human. kai always was and seemed to be the nicest out of them all. he was the most approachable, the most helpful, the easiest one to talk to and do projects with besides soobin. it was weird to see him staring over you with this hungered look on his eyes but he still had this oh so soft smile on his face. it made you conflicted and made you genuinely upset. hurting kai, although he was never close to you, just seemed so much more terrible than if you were to hurt taehyun. he slowly starts to crawl on top of you, one hand on his pant zipper and the other caging you in.

“you look stunning right now. even with your tears. i would love to see your pretty smile, i’ve seen it at school. oh to see you smile in this state. i think i’d die..”

he takes his thumb and wipes your tears. you grab his wrist with one hand and looked him in the eyes, begging him with your eyes to stop. but he only smiled and pulled your hand to his face, closing his eyes. it was as if he was trying to make this situation seem like a consensual thing between the two of you. he pushed you down to your back and layed completely on top of you while still holding your one wrist to the side. he was ten folds heavier than you so it made it kind of difficult to breathe. he pressed his face into the crook of your neck and just laid there for a little, just letting you hear him breathing down your neck. you finally feel his arm move to mess with his pant zipper and you start to try to move away from him but he just glides the back of his hand across your face with one hand, now looking you in the eyes, and taking his dick out his pants with the other. you could feel his tip align to your entrance and you finally gather the strength to speak. although it’s hard considering all his weight is pressing down on you.

“kai, please don—”

he just presses down even more on you and he kisses you. but not just for a second, he keeps kissing you to keep your mouth shut. whenever you moved your head to the side he moved his head with you. he was not breaking from the kiss anytime soon. as he was doing this you felt his dick finally push in. your eyes widened and your mouth opened with a gasp which he quickly took advantage of by pushing his tongue in your mouth. no matter how many times you’d experienced getting fucked tonight, it got no easier. no less painful. you finally had gotten a little ‘slicker’ down there too. the way kai was handling this just made your body feel so conflicted. but don’t get it confused, you still wanted him off of you. still wanted him out of you. he’s making slow movements in you, not really thrusting, but he’s still getting into it, just slowly. you start trying to hit his back and trying to push his face away but he only moved his other arm and grabbed your arms one at a time and forced them to stay locked around his neck. if anybody were to walk in and see you in this position, they wouldn’t even know that you didn’t want it. they would never know that he was r8ping you. it would just look like a loving couple having sex. every so often he’d let go of the kiss to breathe for 5 seconds before going back in. he uses one of his legs to move one of your legs so that he could feel you better. this was the only time tonight you felt good and you hated it. it was only his leg holding your leg down and you still could barely move it away and kick. you start trying to squirm even more as it feels better and better. he pulls away from the kiss again and pushes his forehead against yours breathing heavily.

“does it feel good finally? i can tell. yeonjun said you were dry but look how wet you are right now. did you just need a little more love? were they mean?”

you just started tearing up and crying more, your arms stuck around his neck and him drawing out these slow movements in you.

“please i just wanna —ow —go home, nobody will believe me anyways just—agh- let me go.”

you were pleading with him. he was probably the most sane person here, the safest person here to try to reason with.

“but i just—aghshitshit— love this, love you so much..i love how you feel, i love how you look,”

he leans in close to your ear and whispers to you.

“after tonight, we should keep talking, yeah? maybe date, maybe just let me keep fucking you like this. i’ve never enjoyed one of these nights more than this..”

more? of this? even if it was just him fuck no. you just shake your head no but he just presses a kiss into you again. your legs start to shake a little and you can feel him smile against your lips. he speeds up a little more and you hear him groan. you feel the vibration of his groan spread through your chest and through your lips before the same warm feeling in your pussy comes back. the same substance coming out. you felt disgusting. you felt like some prostitute cum dump off of the street. this was absolutely humiliating. he just lays their still for a few more seconds, leaving his dick in you, holding the kiss between the two of you before he finally allows you to breathe and finally pulls out. how long has it been? how much longer would they keep going? how much longer until they got bored of you and let you go home? you didn’t know. you wanted nothing more than to hug your blanket and just go to sleep and forget this all happened. but this was a night to remember for all of them and for you. he finally climbs off of you and sits at the edge of the bed swaying his feet a little like a giggly child.

“one more until we get to the fun part. soobin!”

beomgyu yelled that across the room. he sounded so happy and you hated it. you had forgotten there were five of them, and now you knew even after soobin would go, there was apparently more to go on. you just wanted to close your eyes and think about anything else, imagine anything else, but you knew they wouldn’t let you. kai stands up and comes to the side of the bed and stands you up onto the floor. good thing he was holding you up because if he wasn’t you probably would have collapsed to the ground. soobin, dick already out crawls onto the bed and lays on his back and kai sets you right in front of his dick. hard as a rock sticking straight up in the air.

“you’re gonna ride him.”

you pause and just sit there. no you weren’t. you—no. just no! but kai lifts you up by your shoulders and hovers your pussy right over soobins dick and slowly lowers you onto it. how do you even get out of this one? they’re not gonna let you lift yourself off of him, hitting him will do nothing, and you literally can’t kick your legs. even if you could, it wouldn’t do anything. you just squeeze your eyes shut before kai quickly lets go and you quickly put both of your arms on soobins chest but it’s too late and he’s already balls deep in you. you swear you can feel his imprint in your stomach and he clearly sees it too because he reaches his hand out to touch your stomach and feel. soobin was quiet. he didn’t say much in class but he always came across nice. helped when he could, smiled almost always, very calm, just overall not bad to be around. in a situation like this you almost wish he’d say something.

“have you ever rode before? or is it just mine you stay still for..”

he mumbled the last part, but you still heard him. you refused to answer, you didn’t want to give any of them a hint that this was your first time.

“i’ll help you, help me.”

you didn’t know what he meant but he grabbed both sides of your hip and easily lifts you up and down on his dick. it was as if you were his own personal alive little flesh light. it was easy for him too, didn’t give him any added difficulty. his chest just gets wetter and wetter, your tears falling like a waterfall onto it. his abs glistening despite the dark room. you tried to push his hands away and lift yourself up off of him but you were only helping him more and his hands only dug into your hips even more. he wasn’t going to let you just pull yourself off him so you easily.

“you’re taking me so—shit—so so so well.”

“you feel so—so good-ahh—so good around me baby—ah fuck-”

he was clearly hungry because even after you felt him cum, he still kept going, his balls smacking against your ass, him going from fast to slow. he finally stops completely, now just letting you sit there and squirm on his dick, getting him off more and more. you started doing it unintentionally, it was just so uncomfortable but clearly not for him, you could hear his soft groans. he moves one hand from your hip to your ass and squeezes which causes you to jump up on his dick and you could feel it pulse in you. he just starts to rub it more before he slowly moves towards your clit. he grabs some slick from it which causes you to shiver, making him curse under you. his fingers now coated, he moves to your pretty pink asshole. he circles his finger around it a little before pushing a finger inside abruptly which caused you to leans forward and jump up before sliding back down onto his dick. you could feel his dick twitch so much in you and it just made your body even more uncomfortable that it caused it to jump up again. you started shaking a little so your body naturally starts riding his dick a little, no matter how much you tried to hold yourself down. soobin starts spewing nonsense before he finally cums again in you. somebody, kai you soon see, lifts you up off of soobin and pulls you into his lap as he holds onto your tummy.

“i saw all that. you couldn’t have been that wet when it was my turn?”

you only just now noticed that yeonjun was in the room. guess over the tears, adrenaline and pain, you hadn’t noticed he came in.

“you all got your turn, all got what you wanted-”

you pause to sniffle and choke on a sob,

“just let me go now please.”

they were silently laughing at you, you could tell. there was nothing funny about any of this. why keep you here any longer if they all got a piece? to torture you?

“it’s only two in the morning sweetheart, we still have until at least seven in the morning. so at least four more hours.”

kai presses his chin in the crook of your neck. you felt sick to your stomach. at least four more hours…maybe letting yourself throw up on their dicks wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.

“and you know what’s next?”

you didn’t look up, but you knew it was yeonjun speaking by the cocky ass tone. you could almost hear the smirk he definitely had on his face through his voice.

“an actual gangbang. all five of us on you, in you, touching you, at the same time.”

now you wish you had taken the alcohol. you wish you would’ve just broken the law for once. risked getting in a wreck and getting a dui, risked waking up delirious and sick. you wished every time they suffocated, every time that they choked you that you would’ve just passed out, but they weren’t going to let you take the easy way out. five hours of every hole getting stretched, your dignity, every sliver of confidence that you ever had removed in a single night.

“you’re just gonna be just another jealous little whore trying to ruin all of our careers with a stupid rumor. how mean of you, we’d never do such a terrible thing, right? it’s impossible, crazy even.”

“right?”

[rafeyscurtainbangs]

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧 - 𝐑𝐚𝐟𝐞 𝐂𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐 𝐨𝐟 𝟑

𝟿.𝟼𝙺 𝚃𝚘𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝

2.9K

+18 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓻 𝓓𝓝𝓘

𝙿𝚎𝚛𝚟𝙵𝚛𝚊𝚝!𝚁𝚊𝚏𝚎 𝚡 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚕𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚂𝚝𝚞𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝!𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 1

⚠️ spoilers in the warnings ⚠️

swearing, Stalking, pet names, degradation, namecalling, public masturbation, dark!rafe, mean!rafe, perv!rafe, mentions of cum play, mentions of unprotected P in V, ownership kink, mentions of rough oral, violence, threats, blackmail, fighting, blood, gore, mentions of sextortion, Rafe sneaks into the reader's room, panty stealing, panty sniffing, takes pictures of the reader's private images, cum tasting, oral male receiving, oral female receiving, twist dark reader, mutual obsession, rough oral, gagging, kissing, reader doesn't ask rafe if he wants to go further than oral but he does and she starts anyway, messy sex, squirting, praise, drinking, smoking, mentions of drug use

𝓫𝓮𝓽𝓪 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭 𝓫𝔂 𝓶𝓬𝓵𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓻𝓲𝓽𝓮

Rafe’s POV:

I look out into the sea of college students piled on the road and grass. Booze, smoke, and sex hang heavily in the air. The fact that we haven’t got busted yet is a borderline miracle, the type of miracle I need because I – a fuckin’ idiot – didn’t ask for her number.

I stand near the kegs, not close enough to work them but close enough to see it as well as the front door of Phi Mu. Three hours and still no y/n. Where’s my girl? I take a pull from the bottle as my nerves start to creep in. What if she’s with Billy? What if she never left the house?

I swallow thickly, looking toward the sorority.

All of the lights are off. A soft glow of light shines from the side of the house, making my heart sink. No.

Pushing through the party, I make my way toward the house, my heart ramping up as I think about her and Billy not leaving. My jaw coils tight, teeth gritted.

What am I gonna do if he is? My threats weren’t enough. I’m gonna need to do something drastic. All my thoughts come to a screeching halt as I go to the window, looking into her empty bedroom. I turn fast, breaking into a trot, peering into Billy’s window.

Empty.

I can feel my heart rate slow, my tense shoulders falling. She’d never do that to me. Who am I kidding? She wanted me at the coffee shop. I pretty much sealed the deal at the car wash. She’s lookin’ for me. Fuck. ‘Course she is… I walk through the grass and head back to the party. The bass-heavy music thunders through the night air, making it hard to think about much more than the task at hand… Finding my girl.

I shove through the dense crowd, my head swiveling as I scan the crowd. My breathing is shallow, my heart rate climbing with every passing second, leaving me all but suffocated.

My head snaps to the side, catching a glimpse, nearly missing her as she gets swallowed up in the crowd. Or was that her? Am I seeing shit now?

I reach up, tugging at the collar of my t-shirt as my breathing tightens.

What if she found someone else? What if Billy was the least of my worries this entire time? My hands curl into my fists at the thought.

Billy’s looking for her, too. I know he is. If he wasn’t, he’d be out here. That fucker is always somewhere near the kegs. I told him y/n was off-limits. I thought I made that shit crystal clear. The coffee shop, the car wash… She was clearly interested in me.

She’s mine.

Even if she doesn’t know it yet, I don’t think these boys know how far I’d go to get what I want.

I want her.

I see another flash of hair to my left. Princess? I push through the crowd, following her just like I was this afternoon on campus, swerving and pushing through the crowd. “Y/n,” I call over the music. She turns around… Just some girl. Shit. A fuckin’ gut punch as she turns back around and joins her group of friends.

“Rafe!” One of the underclassmen calls out. “Bro – you good?” Clenching my jaw, I look over and nod, barely sparing them a glance as I continue to search.

I watch a couple disappear between the frat and the sorority, falling into the darkness. The boy pushes her against the wall before their lips lock, and for a split second, I think it’s her. My nerves ramp up, painting the worst-case scenarios: y/n’s face on her body and Billy’s on his. I rub my clammy hands against my jeans, my stomach turning. “Dammit,” I hiss, brushing my fingers through my hair nervously, my breathing erratic.

“The fuck are you on, Cameron?” Those same boys chuckle, pulling me out of my downward spiral. God, I must look like a fuckin’ mess.

“E,” I lie as I roll the tension out of my neck.

“E?” One of them asks with a wolfish grin. “You sharin’ or what?”

“Money talks, man. I’m sure as shit not sharin’ anything with you,” I snicker as I lift the liquor to my lips, drowning some more. The party grows louder as I stand there, trying to think of my next move.

I hear a familiar bubbly laugh. Cassie. Y/n’s sorority sister… Her face is plastered all over Y/n’s Instagram. If there’s someone who knows where she is, it’s her. I stalk to their group, frantic.

“Have you seen Y/n?” I interrupt them before I can think about it for another moment. Cassie blinks a few times, taken aback. I mean, we’ve never fuckin’ talked before.

”Uh, no… I don’t think so…” She watches me cautiously. “Why?” She asks curiously.

Jesus fucking christ. This is gonna get me nowhere.

I turn on my heels as my frustration mounts; I walk back to the underclassmen at the keg. The plastic trembles as I fill it to the brim with lukewarm beer. “…yeah, I’m supposed to buy some coke off Billy, but that fucker said he was lookin’ for someone.”

“Who?” The other boy asks, making my blood boil because I already know the answer.

“That Phi Mu girl he’s always talkin’ about. I don’t know. She’s hot as fuck.” I feel the liquid trickle down my forearm. Looking down, I realize I cracked my cup from my grip. Fuck, he’s a tough learner, isn’t he? My threats went in one ear and out the other.

That bitch probably thinks I’m a joke. He’s probably walkin’ around right now. Stalking her like she’s a fuckin’ animal.

I take a deep breath, looking down at the beer still leaking down my arm. I close my eyes, trying to calm down and gather my thoughts. You gotta be smart about this, Rafe.

I clear my throat, making my face passive before I make my first move.

“Hey,” I call out to the guys that were talking. “You guys got Billy’s number? Yeah?”

”Mhmm,” one of them hums. “‘Course.”

I lift my phone, feigning nonchalance. “Got shit service out here. Tell Billy his girl’s at the frat.”

One of them jabs the other in the side, gesturing for him to pull out his phone and send it off. His face glows in the light, the underclassmen quickly shoving it in his pocket as I swallow the rest of my beer, trying to remain uninterested, just hoping that he didn’t mention anything about me being the one to say I saw her.

“Thanks, buddy,” I smile, slapping him on the shoulder as I step toward the party's fringe, leaving the chaos behind to focus on watching for him. Billy thinks he makes the rules. He thinks he can disrespect me? No one fuckin’ disrespects me.

Billy.

That smug bitch struts toward the frat house, cig dangling from his lips, his head tilted down as he checks his texts. I can’t help but smile as something goes my way. Finally. Thankfully, I’ll get to take care of him first.

Billy sucks down the rest of his cigarette before flicking it into the dewy grass. He reaches up, unbuttoning the top button on his shirt and raking his fingers through his sandy blonde hair before setting his backward cap back on.

His lips curl upward the closer and closer he gets, no doubt thinking about ruining my girl in his room. He has no clue what he’s walkin’ into. I take a deep breath, moving toward the frat house, pushing through the crowd on the front lawn. “Billy! Hey, man, I’ve been lookin’ for you.”

Billy turns over his shoulder like he had been caught, and he had. “What’s up, Cameron?” Billy asks, stuffing his phone in his pocket. I fight the urge to eye it. He’s texting my girl, I’m sure.

“Heard you got some yayo,” I smirk. “That true?” Billy stands there for a moment, running through scenarios in his head. His expressions ebbing between confusion and annoyance as I ask him for shit he knows I already have.

I shrug casually before continuing. “You holdin’ out on me, man. C’mon. I got cash. You got the shit, buddy. M’not trying to hold you up. Just need a bump,” I soften my voice on purpose to make it harder for him to hear me. Billy furrows his eyebrows, leaning closer to me.

“What?” He shouts. “Can’t fuckin’ hear you, man.” I nod over to the billiards room, making him roll his eyes and suck his teeth. Billy shoves his hands in his pockets, making his way toward the pool room without a fight. It’s not like he could tell me where he was goin’ or who he was lookin’ for… We were both puttin’ on an act.

I reach back, pulling the large wooden door shut behind me. Billy looks over at me, his eyes narrowing on mine, and at that moment, I swear he knows why he asked him in here, and it has nothing to do with a sale. He knows I’m here to settle the score. The music muffles to an eerie quiet as the tension between us builds. We both know if shit happens in here, no one’s hearin’. This is between him and I. No one’s stoppin’ this fight.

Billy’s arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, growing impatient regardless. “What’s this about, Rafe?” He asks annoyedly as he scratches his chin. A wicked smile plays on my lips; I turn slightly, clicking the lock into place, letting him know that his suspicions are valid and the threat is real. “Holy shit. Say somethin’, you fuckin’ psycho.”

“You know exactly where we’re in here, Billy. Why don’t you tell me? Huh?” I ask as I shove him roughly, sending him deeper into the dark room. “I made myself clear. She’s mine. And here you are, goin’ behind my back, lookin’ for her.”

Billy’s eyebrows shoot up, shifting his stance to make himself look bigger. He wasn’t gonna let this go without a fight. That’s fine – neither was I.

“Oh, I heard you, Rafe,” Billy chuckles smugly, his tongue gliding along his bottom lip

“I’m not gonna say it again. Aight. She’s mine. Stay. Away. From y/n,” I warn with a casual dominance.

Billy chuckles, his wild blue eyes glinting, inviting the challenge with open arms.

“Or what, Richy Rich? You gonna throw a tantrum every time you don’t get pussy. Run that mouth of yours every time a girl chooses me over you. She made it clear who she wants, and it ain’t you.”

“Bullshit.”

“That’s why she’s texting me this, huh?” He asks as he takes out his phone, showing off a picture of Y/n from the car wash. Her beautiful body is soaking wet as she gives him a look that would have had me cumming all over my phone again and again. The looks that’s only meant for me.

“Bitch-” Billy hisses as my hands grip the front of his shirt, shoving him against the pool table. Billy pushes me off, making me stumble back into the wall. ”Careful,” Billy barks, “you’re gettin’ yourself into shit you can’t finish. You’re not scaring me, bitch boy, Get the FUCK out of my way.”

He pushes me, but the contact is all I need. I grab him by the arm, throwing him off his feet and onto the floor. The impact echoes through the room as he hits the ground hard, fighting for the breath he lost. Billy quickly scrambles through his feet, charging fast.

I put my full weight into my punch, swinging for his jaw. He dodges, delivering a quick, brutal jab to my ribs. I land a punch, the blow plowing the side of Billy’s head, making him stumble back and onto the pool table, sending the pool balls scattering.

I grab him by his shirt, ripping the material in the process, tossing him to the ground like trash. “You don’t get to win. You don’t fuckin’ get her,” I shout as I stand over his body, lifting my foot to stomp on his chest, making him recoil in pain.

“And you think you do?” Billy grunts, kicking out my feet, making me stagger. He rises to his feet, chest heaving with effort. “Y/n doesn't even know you, Rafe. You met here once.” He scoffs. “One fuckin’ day. One. You’re just some obsessed fuck,” he spits as blood bubbles out of his mouth.

”Obsessed?” I laugh, shaking my head at him. “Obsessed. Maybe I’m just givin’ her what she deserves. Huh? She doesn’t need some weak pussy playin’ the long game. She needs a man who takes what he wants,” I reach down, grabbing a pool stick off the table as the room blurs, anger overtaking my being. I swing the stick, nailing Billy’s face, sending his head snapping to the side before his body tumbles to the floor. Blood spurts from his face, gathering in a puddle around his head.

Message delivered.

Billy lets out a small, feeble breath. Still alive. Barely. I roll my eyes, crouching next to his limp body, listening to his labored breaths. "You don't get to even think about her again. You stay the hell away from her, or you won’t be able to get up next time." Billy’s eyes flicker to mine before dropping down in defeat.

“Fuck you, Rafe. M’gonna tell her everything,” he mumbles, barely audible as he fights for consciousness. His blood continues to spill from his lips, making a grin grow on my face.

”No, you’re not. ‘Cause if you do, that little scandal you thought was long gone will be far from over. I’ll drag that shit out of the dirt and drag you with it, you pathetic fuck. $15,000 to some whore in Vegas after she recorded you stroking your shit online? You haven’t even finished payin’ your debt to me, asshole.”

“You got no fuckin’ proof.”

“Bullshit, I do. She was blackmailing you then, and I’m blackmailin’ you now. You don’t think I don’t have those pictures. Paid that nasty slut $5,000 extra just to keep ‘em in case of emergency and shittt… Look at what we got ourselves into, huh?” I chuckle cruelly. “Checkmate, bitch.”

I stand up, smoothing out my shirt, making myself half-presentable for her. "You can be my brother, Bills, or my enemy. Don’t make me end you.” I turn on my heels, heading toward the door, locking it from the outside. I smile as I take a few more steps, satisfied for the moment, pinching the volume button on the speakers before cranking it up even louder, drowning out any noises Billy dares to make.

I let out a loud breath, returning to my earlier thoughts.

Where the hell is she?

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 3

tags (tag list is on my pinned post. If your name is crossed out your tag isn't working 💕) @loserboysandlithium @rafesthroatbaby @littlelamy @kisses4angels @watchmerora @buckybarnessweetheart @anamiad00msday @namelesslosers @cades-outsider @romaescapes @starkeysprincess @oxpogues4lifexo @unrealmirrorball @sleepiibunniiii @gri959 @rafesgiirl @daryldixon83 @akobx @hyperfixationgirl