#don’t worry… I trust the good voice more than the bad one :)

[spill-to-t]

There’s this voice in my head that tells me to stop eating, that tells me that I am pure shit, that tells me that my art, my piano skills and everything I do is not enough and not even worth to show. There’s this voice that tells me that I’m so miserable that I will never achieve my dream, that I am a stupid bitch. There’s this voice that tells me I don’t have any feelings and that’s why I can’t show them, even though that’s the only thing I want. That voice tells me that showing my feelings is pathetic and no one cares. This little voice searches for little reasons to make me feel bad… but then there’s the other voice that believes in me, that cries, because that voice prays every day for me to move on and keep going. I don’t know how my self-esteem went to that point of pure self doubt… but I wanna thank special people for telling me their unwanted opinion <3

[princessbrunette]

bountyhunter!rafe finally trusted you to sit behind him on the horse. he knew you weren’t going to jump off and take off. where would you go? you were in the middle of nowhere.

for a while you were lethargic, cheek pressed to rafe’s warm back with the only sound for a long time being the clip-clopping of horse shoes on the desert sand. you had a hat balanced on your head today. one like the ones rafe wore, all cowboyish. he said he wouldn’t be able to deal with you getting all sick from the sun. after a while, rafe breaks the silence — which is surprising, because usually he’s too grumpy to converse.

“collectin’ another bounty today… by the way.” he informs you, and you lift your head, glancing at the small town appearing on the horizon before you.

“hm?”

“yeah uh, some chick. ‘bout your age. apparently shes been stickin’ her nose where it doesn’t belong so uh, yeah. gotta hand her off to some outlaw.” he shrugs, focused on what’s infront of him. an unfamiliar and grotesque feeling slides down from your chest and settles in your stomach. a girl. your age.

“why have you gotta do that? you don’t need to be catching more bounties. where’s she gonna go anyway? there’s no more room on the horse.” you huff, still a little disorientated from being in and out of a nap against rafe’s back.

“we’re not going anywhere on the horse, kid. she’s up in this town here. did some real bad stuff, i’m talkin’ real slimy criminal shit. gonna hold her up in a motel with me ‘til the guy comes n’gets her. i’ll get my pay and — and don’t worry alright, you’re not gonna be in any danger you’ll be waiting in the diner across the street so… it’s fine.” he sounds a little irritated to be explaining it all to you. the thought of him in a motel alone with this girl pushed some immature feelings to the surface, some that you weren’t proud of.

“what do you need more money for?” you’re getting whiny now and you see his jaw clench.

“you think it’s cheap draggin’ you from town to town? paying for— for your little motel trips and food? no. i gotta take care of us ‘cause you’re no good for any of that.” he lectures you, and you dig your fingernails into the saddle.

“you don’t need her! find someone else.” you raise your voice a little, and surprisingly— rafe doesn’t say a thing. however, the silence does little to soothe you. in a moment, he arrives to a fence and jumps off before yanking you down and ropes up his horse to the wooden panel, planning on leaving it there for the day with the trough and bowl of water nearby. when he’s set the horse up, he turns back to you — looking at you like he’d just noticed you were there as he walks right up to you, wiping his hands on his jeans. leaning down to your height, he speaks more quietly with a pissed off edge to his voice.

“i’on wanna hear any more jealous tantrums today, a’ight? i’m doin’ this — for, for— hey—” when you look away shamefully with a pout he grips your jaw and turns you back to look at him. “i’m doin’ this for us. for you. alright so… so you should be thanking me if anything.” he blinks grouchily before letting go and swaggering past you, assuming you’d follow. you did.

you sat in that diner for hours. he’d set you up with a platter of buttered waffles and grits and sausages— all things that were considered a luxury when travelling out on the open desert. he’d taken one more glance at your sad little face peering up at him before heading out the door, with no more than a demand not to talk or look at anyone whilst he’s gone. it was a risk leaving you there, you both knew it — but some things just had to be done. it was more of a risk to take you with him anyway.

you felt all sick and anxious the whole time he was gone. not just because you were on your own surrounded by strangers and mysterious cowboys, but because you couldn’t stop imagining rafe in there with that girl. a motel room. you wondered if they both sat on the bed together. whether they talked, shared experiences. maybe he showed a bit of remorse to her, like he did with you. she was a criminal after all, just like him — perhaps he’ll decide she’s a more worthy partner to travel with, now that he’d decided to keep you all to himself instead of handing you off. maybe they’ll kiss. maybe he won’t come back to get you.

your spiralling thoughts are interrupted by rafe arriving back at your side hours later. he glances at the plate of untouched food and presses his lips together, about to tell you off for wasting his money. when you look round at him, your eyes are all red and there are tears on your cheeks. whatever words he was about to spew die in on his tongue and he sighs, crouching down beside where you sit in the booth.

“hey. what happened?”

you don’t say anything, opting to look at your hands instead. he sighs, biting his tongue before standing back up to full height. “alright. move up.” he gives you a light push to signal you to move up along the worn leather bench and you do so.

once sat besides you, he grabs your cutlery and starts to fork up a mouthful to feed you. “you gotta eat, okay? i paid for this shit.” he speaks softly, lifting the fork to your lips and shovelling it in as soon as you open them just a little.

“its cold.” you garble miserably as he shovels a few mouthfuls past his own lips, hungry after the day he’d had.

“should’ve thought of that, alright— open.” he feeds you another mouthful. you give in, realising now that you were so hungry that you didn’t even mind the food being cold. relaxing a little, you lean against his shoulder slightly, deflating as he feeds you. “yeah, see. spoiled.” he mutters.

you head back to the motel as the sun goes down, your skin feeling relieved of the constant beating down of the sun, replaced by a cooler breeze over the dunes. the motel is an old and rickety one, but it would do. rafe had purchased the room until tomorrow, so the two of you figured you’d use it and get a good nights sleep. he dumps the bags by the door when you enter, and you walk in slowly — taking a look around. your stomach cramps with that feeling again as you look at the bed. the sheets were still tidy, and made — but you still wondered.

rafe follows your eyes as he walks in behind you, glancing between you and the bed. “what? not good enough?” he shrugs a shoulder.

“did she sit on the bed?” you ask quietly and he squints.

“wh— who? the bounty?”

you nod and he scoffs, wandering past you. “no. locked that bitch in the bathroom, alright — she wouldn’t shutup.”

you know it’s wrong, and you shouldn’t. but you feel this sick sense of pride, like in a way you’d won something. you were not sure what exactly, but it satisfied a side to you that you didn’t know you had.

he clocks onto the small, prideful smile on your face and he blinks, resisting an eye roll.

“jesus christ. c’mere, yeah?”

rafe sits on the bed, spreading his legs and patting a knee for you to sit down. you do so without question, in disbelief that there was a time that you’d scream, cry and refuse anything like that. once you’re perching on him, he speaks.

“not getting rid of you, alright— i can see that look on your face. y’know it’s a little ridiculous getting jealous i—i kidnapped you, kind of. okay? but that’s… in the past now. i’m with you. just… behave… and cheer up. paid for the food, paid for the motel — you’re lucky i don’t put you to work to earn your keep.” he pats your ass, signalling for you to stand. “now go shower. we’re leavin’ this place at sun up.”

you wander towards the screen bathroom door before turning back round to look at him with a small and demure smile.

“i’m just happy you came back to get me.”

rafe raises an eyebrow. “the hell are you talking about? i will always come back for you.”

[cameronsprincess]

Omg I just thought of this, but what about S1 Rafe getting reader to try coke for the first time and they just have hot, high, intimate sex 🙏

lawdddd to have nasty high sex with him😔

CW: smut! 18+ only! cocaine use, fingering, piv sex, praise and slight degrading.

“just one line babe, promise it’ll make you feel so good.”

you look at rafe and then back down at the two perfect white lines he has cut up on the table in front of you. it wasn’t that you were scared, you just knew the chokehold this shit had on rafe, and you didn’t want to be addicted to it as well. but you trusted rafe, and if he said just one line, he more than likely meant just one line.

you suck in a deep breath before saying “fuck it.” and yank the rolled up hundred dollar bill from your boyfriends hand. it was just you and him, so you didn’t have to worry about making a fool of yourself in front of a shit ton of people, and rafe had already seen you at your worst, there wasn’t much more you could do that was embarrassing in front of him.

rafe smirks at you, watching as you take in another deep breath before leaning forward and place one end of the bill on the line. you shove the bill forward, sniffing up the white powder before pulling back and dropping the bill in your lap.

your nostril burned, and you pinched off your nose, coughing as a bitter taste filled the back of your throat and tongue.

“oh, god. is it supposed to taste this bad?” you ask, coughing and slightly gagging.

rafe chuckles, pulling the bill from your lap and doing his own line. once he’s done, he drops the bill on the table and pulls you into his arms, tightening his hold on you and saying, “the cocaine drip is always nasty at first, you get used to it. plus, your throat and mouth should start numbing soon, won’t taste a thing after that.”

rafe was right, after a few minutes the entire back of your throat felt numb, along with your tongue and gums. your entire body was buzzing, your thighs rubbing together as the high from the cocaine started to take over your body. you felt great.

“rafeeeeeeee.” you sing song as your hands rub up and down his bare thigh.

he smiles down at you, his eyes flitting down to watch your hand work its way up his thigh. “what’s up, baby?”

you pull your hand from his leg, adjusting yourself on the couch to face him before you pout. “‘m so horny…” you whine.

you don’t miss the way rafe’s eyes darken, his already dilated pupils growing, his typical ocean blue now swallowed by black. he reaches out his right hand, running his knuckles down the side of your face. you scoot closer to him, placing one of your hands on his covered dick, feeling how hard he was for you.

you grin. “looks like i’m not the only one.”

rafe breathes out a laugh before he grabs at your hips, yanking you up off the couch and pulling you into his lap. his large, ringed fingers run up and down your thighs before slowly making their way up your dress. you gasp when his fingers grip at your ass, squeezing the flesh tightly between his fingers.

“rafe-” you whimper, but his lips smashing against yours cut you off.

he kisses you hard, his tongue slipping into your mouth while his fingers dig further into your ass. you gasp and whimper into his mouth, grinding yourself against his hard-on through his khakis.

rafe stands, bringing you with him before he makes his way toward the spiral staircase. he carries you up and into his bedroom, never breaking his lips from yours until he’s tossing you onto his large mattress.

his darkened over eyes scan your entire body. you’re already on fire from the cocaine, but now rafe’s heated stare has your skin burning as well, a thin sheen of sweat beads on your forehead and you quickly wipe it with the back of your hand as you watch him intently, waiting on his next move.

“strip f’me, baby.” comes his command. his voice so low and raspy it has more arousal pooling in your already soaked panties.

you do as he says, sitting yourself up on your knees and pulling your dress over your head, tossing it to the floor. you’re left in a baby blue bra and lace panties, and you swear you see rafe physically drooling as he drinks in your body.

“fuck, you’re so goddamn perfect.” he praises, stripping his shirt from his body before working his belt and shorts off next.

you blush, reaching behind you and popping the strap of your bra, letting it fall onto the mattress in front of you. you lift yourself up on your knees, pulling your panties down next before they too go to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

rafe takes a step toward you, his right hand reaching out to push a strand of hair behind your ear. he slowly pushes you onto your back before he crawls into the bed with you, settling himself on his knees between your open legs.

a shudder runs through your body, your mind going foggy when you feel his fingers lightly roaming around your inner thighs. he inches his fingers up, up, up until he finally reaches your weeping core. he runs his index and middle fingers through your folds, groaning when he feels how wet you already are.

“so fuckin’ wet f’me aren’t you, princess? such a needy little slut. my needy little slut.”

you whimper when he continues to run his thick fingers through your folds. up and down, up and down. he finally pushes the two thick digits inside your throbbing pussy. your back arches off the bed, your hips bucking wildly as you begin to grind yourself on his fingers, pushing him deeper, needing him to make you cum.

“fuck, rafe.. p-lease.” you choke out, tears already filling your eyes. you’re not sure if it’s the cocaine or just rafe’s touch alone, but you were so sensitive, the smallest touch had you writhing and begging for more.

“please what, sweetheart? be a good girl and tell me what you need.”

“n-need to cum.. p-please!” you cry out when his fingers pick up in pace. he curves them slightly, toying with that spongey sweet spot deep inside your aching cunt. your pussy pulses, inner walls clenching down around his fingers before your entire body begins shaking. you come undone around his fingers, crying out his name as he continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt, working you through your high.

“so pretty when you cum for me. could keep you like this forever ya know?”

you whimper, your clit throbbing and pussy pulsing. you needed to feel his cock. needed him to stretch you out and fill you with his cum.

“please… please fuck me, rafe.”

he grins down at you as he slowly removes his fingers from inside you. “don’t worry, baby. ‘m gonna fuck you, and you’re gonna cum all over my cock while i fill you with my cum.”

rafe lifts himself onto his knees, sliding his boxers down his legs and dropping them to the floor. his hard cock springs free, slapping just below his belly button. he crawls on top of you, pinning your body down with his weight. he pushes himself up with his left hand, his right gripping at his thick shaft and stroking it a few times. he runs his swollen, leaking tip through your folds, flicking over your clit a few times and making you whimper and squirm beneath him.

you open your mouth to speak, but only strangled moans and whines come out. rafe continues to tease you with his cock, making you wetter and wetter before he finally shoves himself inside you, filling you and stretching you completely.

you let out a loud whine, grinding your hips against his. rafe lets out a raspy groan, the feel of your hips grinding against his, the feel of your warm, wet walls tightly wrapped around his cock has his mind foggy. you felt so fucking good, and his body was already buzzing and sensitive from the lines he did today, he knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he was going to try his hardest to drag this out.

his hips start to slowly roll into yours, the slow, deep thrusts having you both moaning in unison. he was so deep, his slow thrusts letting you feel every last inch and vein of his cock inside you.

“god, rafe… feels s’good.. so fucking good.” you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling his lips down to yours.

rafe kisses you deeply, his tongue gliding against yours as he swallowed all of your beautiful moans and whines. his teeth bite at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before he lets it slip out with a pop. he claims your lips again, kissing you with so much heat and passion it had your mind fucking spinning. it definitely had to be the cocaine. sex with rafe was good, but it’d never been this fucking good.

his swollen tip hits your g-spot and your pussy pulses, clenching around rafe’s dick and squeezing him so tightly he was seeing fucking stars. he wasn’t going to last, no matter how badly he wanted this to be drawn out, your pussy squeezing him so tightly had his dick pulsing and balls tightening.

your entire body stiffens as a warm feeling rushes through you. you dig your nails into his toned back, making him hiss in a breath when you break skin. “fuck… ‘m gonna cum baby.” rafe rasps.

you whine in response, letting him know you’re close too.

he slowly rolls his hips into you once more before his dick pulses, balls tightening and he’s coming deep inside your cunt. you’re not far behind him, your pussy clenching around him repeatedly, milking him for every drop of cum you can before you come undone around his cock.

“fffffuck!” he groans, his head falling into the crook of your neck.

the sound of your heavy breathing fills the room, rafe laying limply on top of you as he tries to calm his own breathing. once he comes down from his high, he slips himself from inside you and falls into the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms and holding you tightly against his chest.

“don’t want you addicted to the shit, and i will quit soon… but fuck if that wasn’t the best sex we’ve ever had.”

you chuckle, agreeing with his statement. “yeah.. definitely best fucking sex we’ve had.”

RAFE TAGLIST: @oceandriveab // @princessslutt // @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles // @rafesthroatbaby // @sturnioloshacker // @starkeysprincess // @rafescurtainbangz // @atorturedpoetx // @redhead1180 // @jjsmarijuana // @romaescapes // @kisses4angel // @maybankslover // @bellbottombaby // @simars3 // @rafesgiirl // @urbimom // @heartsforrafecam // @antagonize-me-motherfucker // @araminsstufff // @chaneydoll // @bi-zowee // @princesssuki21 // @zrm004 // @ijustwanttoreadlols // @baennied // @hyperfixationgirl // @justheretoreadthestories // @chiaraanatra // @chimindity // @juniebugg // @unsaidjaelinrose // @momoewn // @spid6y // @wearemadeofstardust0 // @vallovesyou // @daydreamrafe // @mattyskies // @fallrafwe

rafe cameron masterlist | requests | taglist form

[sunniepoo]

Hii sweetie 🫶🏻 I was wondering if you could write something about stepbro!rafe teaching her stepsis about sex and stuff, telling her it's normal to do this thing and everything.. thanks in advance love!!

ugh yess!!thinking about this being a post-sex convo where you start feeling guilty about it and he has to manipulate reassure you

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

you’ve always has an inkling that what you had been doing with your stepbrother was wrong and despite how good he made you feel, how far he made your eyes roll back - there was always a little voice in your head discouraging you; telling you that this wasn’t right

‘th-this is all natural-’ he would ramble, going on about how this is his role and purpose as the man of the house, making sure that you knew all of this and how ‘no one else would understand’

it was hard because as much as you trust rafe’s word, you couldn’t ignore the pit in your stomach, after every long night of him pounding into your cunt, nagging at you that this was disgusting - you were disgusting

and that’s how you found your usual bubbly demeanour gone as the older boys large amount of seed drips out of you, coating your thighs with pale white colour - the warm liquid reminding you of your shame or lack of. you didn’t even register the presence of rafe’s large figure slowly cleaning you up, how could he be so casual?

“what s’mthin wrong?” he queries, large palms coming up to massage your sore body, confused by the sudden change in atmosphere “hm? c’mon kid you gotta talk if you want me to help”

“d’you feel like we’re doing something wrong….something bad” the question blankets the room, clouding the room with a sense of uncertainty

“what” the older cameron deadpans, response coming out more icy than you expected “wh-what wh-where is this coming from…what are you even talking about” eyebrows furrowing with every word, showing his clear confusion and worry, mind lingering on the question ‘why are you having second thoughts?’

“just feels like this is wrong sometimes” hands reaching up to rub at your forehead, eyes planted at the side of the bed “why are you saying this,did someone say something…..hm?” he was stressed now, not at the idea of you two getting caught but more so the idea of you backing out of this situation he had carefully established

“no no no… no one’s said anything,no one knows, just feel like this whole things a bit wrong sometimes - like i should be ashamed for doing this…for doing you”

the room falls into a moment of silence, the blonde in front trying to process what you’ve just said, he can’t help but smirk a little, lips curling upward- you’re worried about being a dirty little girl, it was laughable to him because you don’t understand it like he does, you’re his dirty little girl

“look… this-“ he begins, one hand waving between the two of you signaling his words,as he sits beside you “i-it’s complicated, and people won’t understand cause they j-just can’t think like we do, but what we have- it’s normal”

“without me to teach you all of this kid, shiit, you’d be lost” words coming out with a breathy laugh “you’d be stuck with some loser who wouldn’t know what he’s doing, leaving you all wet and needy” you nearly flinched at the way his hand traced up your thigh fingers toying around with your sensitive clit, causing you to grab his wrists

he shrugs you off with ease, fingers continuing their teasing motion “y’wouldn’t like that, would you kid” you were so so sensitive, his hands causing you to whine and squirm “n-no rafey” your words come out with a moan “yeah you see that’s why i’m here, to teach you - fill my role as a good stepbrother to you..m’kay” and before you could respond, one fingers already made its way knuckles deep into you, torturing your already worn out cunt

“now why don’t we have another lesson?”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨ ʚɞ ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

[cvntluver444]

i’m your girl - ellie williams

ellie 📸 creds - s9ession on pinterest (and tiktok)

ellie williams x reader, slight!abby x reader

₊* summary : after catching your girlfriend cheating on you, your best friend ellie offers a little more than some much needed quality time together.

₊* warnings : smut minors dni, language, cheating, dom!ellie 🤭 sub!reader, light spanking, abby and ellie tensionnnn, slight ellie x cat, reader uses she/her pronouns, intended lowercase, bad writing, not proof read. if i miss any please let me know!! 🤍

₊* a/n : EEEEK hi everyone! this is my FIRST EVER FIC! don’t be fooled though, i’ve been apart of this lovely community for years and have loved reading all of your lovely works!! i really wanted to try and give this a shot because im a hoe and i have some crazy thoughts that i think need to be shared (this one really isn’t crazy this is like the third thing i’ve written so we are going to ease into it 🫡)

anyways i am so excited to share my first fic! it would mean the world if you guys left some positive feedback or constructive criticism so i know how to grow!! i’m also looking for new friends since i don’t post on here so if you want to be friends hmu 😋 i love you all!! again i hope beauties enjoy!!

🇵🇸 as always, please keep spreading information and support for Palestine! 🇵🇸

▹ daily click

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

walking back from a study sesh, your bubbly laugh fills the halls of dorm as your best friend her story of a disastrous hookup.

“oh my god, ellie. that would happen to you,” you huff out, trying hard to calm yourself down. ellie chuckles while smiling down at you. “i can’t believe cat said a different name!” you couldn’t stop you laughter as ellie explained the awkward interacting with cat. your laugh was her favorite sound in the whole world, which is why she always loved to tweak her stories just a bit. she knew just about everything about you, so of course she knew what made you come undone in a fit a laughter. so maybe cat didn’t actually say someone else’s name. maybe ellie said someone else’s name. maybe she said your name. but you don’t have to know that.

“yeah ya know” she shrugs a bit and pauses. “maybe she just isn’t right for me,” ellie shrugs nonchalantly. “anyways, is abby gonna be in the room?” ellie questions.

“yeah hope that’s okay with you, i didn’t tell her we were coming back so early so she will probably just be in our room and out somewhere,” you explain, as you reached for your dorm room keys. living with your girlfriend in the same dorm room would have some calling you a bit risky, but you never had any doubts with your relationship with abby. you’ve been together for a year now, you trusted her, she treated you good, and you were even kind of starting to picture your life together. however; that daydream becomes a distant afterthought as soon as you open the door of your dorm room. in front of you is your, now ex-girlfriend, naked and on top of none other than the infamous cat who ellie has talked your ear off about.

“what the fuck” you whisper out, your voice coming out raspy as your eyes quickly start swelling up with tears and your throat swells up. abby and cats giggles soon turn into gasps and their heads fly towards your direction. you feel ellie come to your side and put her arm on your back. “why don’t we just step outside quick, baby,” ellie sadly begs you, her voice full of sympathy, but also anger. how could anyone take advantage of such a beautiful girl. her gaze lands right on a worries looking abby who is rushing to put her clothes back on.

“baby no wait look please just give me a sec let me explain it’s not what it looks like,” abby rambles out a bullshit story but you can’t hear anything around you. your tears now rapidly falling.

“what- what- what the fu-fuck abby!” at this point, you can’t control any emotions. it’s impossible to try and stop any tears now. you’re defeated, hurt, and feeling betrayed. you quickly spew out a few choice words at the two girls rushing to get dressed, but slowly relax and fall into the tall body next to you. she gently grabs your arm and drags you out the door, whispering apologizes and begging for you to focus on her as you still throw some daggers at abby. finally clothed, abby forgets all about the girl she was just fingers deep in and rushes out the door towards you.

“hey hey hey please just wait please” abby calls your name as ellie continues to guide you towards her dorm. you can’t even look at her as you continue to cuddle into ellie, who’s arm is gently placed around your figure, shielding you from your panicking ex.

“just fuck off abby you’ve done enough give her some space” ellie turns to yell towards the blonde who’s still right on your tail.

“you can shut the fuck up and stay out of this williams” abby barks back. “this is between me and her, and the last time i checked, she wasn’t your girlfriend.” ellie’s hearts cracks a little at the sentence, wanting none other to call you hers.

“well after the way you just cheated on her, i don’t think she will be yours very soon either,” ellie smirks. abby and ellie get pretty angry pretty fast, spewing out nasty things about each other and who can treat you the best. you were going to go insane. all you wanted to do in this moment was cry.

“ellie?” suddenly, ellie stops at the soft voice that just called her name. she saw you, teary-eyed, staring at her with the most heartbroken look on her face. her eyes softened and jaw unclenched. her heart broke at the sight of you, but still could not get over the fact that you still looked angelic. “can we please go?” you didn’t even have to ask ellie twice. she nodded her head and gave you a quiet ‘of course’ with a sympathetic smile on her face, but didn’t leave without staring the girl in front of her down. she then turned towards you and flung her arms over your shoulder. leaning her head on yours, you two walked together back to ellie’s room.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

the usual 5-minute walk back to ellie’s dorm felt like hours as it become harder and harder to hold back your tears. ellie didn’t speak one word to you, she understood that all you wanted in this moment was to be silent, knowing that if you opened your mouth once, you would burst out into tears again.

as you two reached her room, she gave a soft “hold on baby” and slowly released her grip on yours so she could unlock her door. you two entered an empty room thanks to dina, ellie’s roommate, visiting jesse at his campus. as much as you loved dina, you were so thankful you could just be alone with your best friend and cry. as soon as you heard ellie shut the door, it was exactly what you did.

as soon as she heard your heartbreaking sobs, ellie quickly rushed over to your side and engulfing you with her toned arms. she shushed you quickly and rocked back and forth, doing everything in her power to try and somehow make your beautiful face smile again.

“i can’t fucking believe her” you finally speak up after several minutes of silence and sniffles. ellie looks over at you, startled after not hearing your voice in a while. “we were together for over a year, we were literally living together in the same fucking room, like, where does she think i’m gonna go now? i’m not living there anymore i fucking hate her!” your sadness has now turned into rage and your slowly growing louder as your rant goes on.

“hey hey hey,” ellie tried to calm you down. “don’t worry about all that now, okay baby? you’re gonna stay with me, and you me and dina are gonna have a big slumber party and have pillow fights and make cookies and talk about boys.” ellie’s joke works miracles and brings a small smile on your face and a little giggle reaches ellie’s ears.

“there she is,” ellie smiles. “i missed that beautiful laugh.” you can’t help but get a little flustered at her comment. now that you were done with abby, your relationship was quickly forgotten when you remembered just how much you were in love with ellie before. you always thought she was so beautiful, and of course she always treated you like a princess.

when you finally worked up enough courage to speak, a quiet “i’m sorry, ellie” left your lips.

“what are you apologizing for baby?” ellie asks you with a confused look on her face. in the moment of catch your girlfriend fucking another girl, you totally forgot all about your own best friend and her crush, and how she was probably going through the same emotions as you right now.

“i’ve been being so selfish. i’ve only been thinking about me and my relationship that i completely forgot about your obsession with cat” you sadly smile and give her an apologetic look. you remembered all the times that ellie would gush about cat with you

“cats skirt looks so good” ellie seductively says to you while you grab your things out of your locker. you glance over to where cat was talking to two other friends at a locker bay across from the two of you. it is pretty cute you thought to yourself. you frown looking down at yours. just a plain boring white skirt.

or that one time when you two were putting off studying in your deserted dorm room

“wait stop scrolling! there! yes! let’s watch that one.” you questioned her on her choice because it was your favorite movie too and you didn’t think she would ever like it, considering she laughed in your face when you told her about it. “oh um i know yo- um it’s cats favorite movie.” ellie saves herself from almost admitting to you that she may have done a little too much stalking that night and found out a couple of your favorite things.

or the night of the frat party, the night ellie’s compliment to cat broke your heart so much, you’d call it one of the worst nights of your life.

“ok now my turn stop hogging,” you giggle at ellie and she shoves you away from the blunt. she finally hands it over and take a hit. you look around at the view of campus from on top of the frat house. “it’s sooo pretty up here, els.” you giggle as you blow the smoke out. ellie chuckles with you and you two burst into laughing. “oh my god how high are we,” you squeak out “ellie look and tell me how red my eyes are.” you’re suddenly staring straight at ellie, and in her haze she lets out a small ‘woah’.

“i uh i mean uh-“ she stutters out as you question what she meant and furrowed your brows. “i mean i was just looking into your eyes and thinking about cat,” she spews out “you know she just has eyes just like yours,” your small smile falls suddenly and confused brows now turn downwards. “uh yeah cats eyes you know they’re like a beautiful uh” while ellie tries to think, she then stares at you again and describes your eyes. cat has eyes like mine? i could’ve sworn they were different. your cloudy mind is not sober enough to realize what’s actually happening, instead your heart breaks even more, thinking that ellie has probably stared into cats eyes so many times she’s pinpointed every detail about them. once you two tossed out the blunt over the roof, you headed back downstairs together. still hurt with ellie’s rambles, you quickly get away from her as soon as your in the clear, leading you to meet abby. why is the worst time if it led you to meet your girlfriend? well, before the cheating, you would’ve had no idea why.

ellie’s hand in front of your face brings you back to reality, which is not fun. ellie is still sitting next to you on the couch and you have to ask her to repeat what she said.

“i was asking what you were apologizing for, baby. you were the one that got cheated on, not me.” ellie chuckles, but slowly realizes what she said. she see your eyes drop down again and the sadness returns to your face. while she’s quickly trying to come up with something to say to save herself, she stops when you stand upnn

“is it ok if i go use your bathroom real quick?” you sadly ask ellie, and she nods with a small smile on her face. you give her a quiet thanks and walk towards the shared restroom of ellie and dina. ellie brings her hands to her head and scolds herself. if you’re trying to make her feel better and give her a hint, this is NOT the right way to do it. she couldn’t shove down her feeling forever, but she also did not want to confess and risk losing you completely. she tried to clear her mind and think about what dina or jesse would tell her to do in this situation. while trying to focus, she could hear you shuffling around in the bathroom. she knew why you were really in there, she wasn’t stupid. thinking about that just made her feel ten times more guilty. she knew what to do.

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

as soon as you go into the bathroom you lock the door and force the tears welling in your eyes to go away. you decided to wash your face with cold water to try and snap yourself out of your emotional roller coaster. you dry your face with the hand towel and turn to look at yourself in the mirror. you were still in so much shock at the events that happened tonight. you take in your messed up appearance and cringe. your bloodshot red eyes were not a pretty sight, and neither was the smudged mascara scattered underneath your eyes. you hope ellie wouldn’t be too grossed out by the way you look right now.

huhhhh?

woah okay the feelings are for sure back. you try to get yourself to look less dead inside by washing your face a couple more times. you opened the bathroom door and slowly walked back out to the couch. you sit back down next to her and put a blanket around yourself, meanwhile she is mindlessly scrollings through netflix trying to find something to watch before she stops on none other than you (and cats) favorite movie.

“oh hey what about this one” she looks over at you with a little smile on her face. you give her a confused look as to why she suggested this one, knowing it was cats favorite movie too.

“but, ellie, won’t that make you, i don’t know, sad?” you question. now she’s the one giving you confused looks.

“why is it like a sad movie or something? i didn’t think it was. i thought we could watch it because it’s your favorite movie and i thought it would make you feel a little bit better,” she smiles back. now you’re even more confused. for starters, she told you it was cats favorite movie, and also, you don’t even remember telling her it was your favorite.

“how’d you know?” you asked her. she replied with a little huh and you asked again. “how’d you know this was my favorite movie? i don’t think i told you that, and i thought it would make you sad because you told me before it was cats favorite movie.” ellie’s face suddenly turns from confused, to scared almost. she stated stuttering and couldn’t form a single word.

after a couple second of struggling, ellie says your name. “it’s not cats favorite movie. i don’t even know cats favorite movie. in fact, i actually don’t know a lot about cat in general.” she looks at you with an almost scared look. now she just completely lost you. when she realizes you still haven’t caught on, she finally begins to explain what she means after a long pause.

“it was never cat”. the room suddenly gets loud, very loud. your ears start to ring and your breath leaves your throat. you couldn’t believe it, again. the whole time you were pushing away your feelings for ellie, she was trying to do the same with her feelings about you. suddenly, you start thinking back to all the moments when you thought ellie was crushing on cat. slowly, more dots start connecting.

you glance over to where cat was talking to two other friends at a locker bay across from the two of you. it is pretty cute you thought to yourself. you frown looking down at yours. just a plain boring white skirt. you’re not the only one looking though. if you would’ve turned around to face your best friend again, you would’ve seen her also looking at your ‘plain boring white skirt’, grateful that she quickly replaced ‘your skirt’ with ‘cat’.

or that other night, after the blunt, when you were crying your eyes out to abby. ellie kicking herself outside and hoping, praying even, that you wouldn’t know the actual color of cats eyes, and that maybe you were even dumb enough to not know the specific details of your own (you were).

you wish you could go back and slap the old you in face, that way, you and ellie could’ve avoided this whole abby and cat mess and could’ve been together longer than you and abby ever would’ve been. now you’re staring up at, after she just confessed her feelings for you. you didn’t know what to say, well you did, you wanted to say that you felt the exact same was and you have since the day you met her, but you’re too slow so she keeps explaining to you.

“i’m sorry to bring it up, but when we walked in today, my heart broke. it didn’t break because i saw cat with another girl. it broke because i saw her with your girl, and i never knew anyone would ever be that fucking stupid to throw away someone as gorgeous, generous, and as selfless as you,” she pauses and you cry again for the millionth time tonight; however, this time the tears feel good. happy tears. she continues and says your name in the softest tone possible. “so again, it was never cat. it was you.”

“abby is not ‘my girl’” you cringe. ellie looks up at your quick response. “i always kind of hoped it was you.” you break apart your words, still scared to admit how you feel even though she just spilled her heart out. the response you got back though washed all your worries away.

“can i kiss you?” she asked quietly. you couldn’t believe it (x3). it was finally happening. every single event that happened up to this very moment has vanished from your mind. all you could think about was how you couldn’t nod your head yes faster. she gives you a beautiful grin before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and gently gripping our chin to pull you closer. at last, your lips touched and it was everything you imagined and more. after you two slowly made out for a couple minutes, taking a couple paused to breathe in between, the kisses started turning more aggressive. you jump as you felt a soft touch on ur upper thigh. you relaxed once she placed her full hand on you and rubbed it up and down. you let out a soft moan which made ellie groan and trail kisses down your neck. you whined as you suddenly felt her pull back. her eyes looked right into your eyes, and she placed her forehead against yours. you two panted as you stared into each others sinful gazes. silence took over for a while before ellie suddenly interrupted.

“can i take you to bed baby?” you bit you lip and nodded, your innocent eyes locked on hers. fuck, you were perfect. it made ellie’s iris’ turn black, and she slowly guided you to her room, littering your face with teasing kisses on the way there. she sat you down on the edge of the bed and got on her knees, lips never leaving yours. her hands caressed your thighs once more, rubbing outwards so that your legs slowly separate. your lips follow as she pulls away to see your skirt has ridden up and she smirks, staring directly at your wet panties. “oh baby” she groans, her focus fully on your clothed pussy, begging to be touched. you lean back and tilt your head so you’re staring up at the ceiling, eyes squeezing shut and a moan leaving your mouth as soon as you feel small kisses going up you thighs. “love those fucking sounds, baby. you’re so angelic.”

“el’s. t-touch me,” you beg, but she light slaps your thighs and gives you a couple disappointments tsks.

“sweetheart, you gotta ask nicer.” she pouts up at you, malice in her voice.

“please, el’s, i need you to t-touch me please” you drag out, embarrassed that she has you this worked up and she’s barely touching you yet. she smirks up at you and her kisses get more sloppy the higher she goes, and finally, her mouth is hovering above your cunt, her hot breath purposely breathing heavy. she loved watching you whine and jolt under her touch. how crazy she made you go even with just a couple kisses. she loves how much control she has over you, and how well you listen to her.

“lift up your shirt, pretty girl. wanna see you play with your tits while i eat this pussy.” her words alone make you want to cum, but then it would be over, so you pull yourself together and do as she said. out of no where, you felt a long lick up you pussy, you body tightening suddenly and letting out a humiliatingly loud moan. “that’s right, baby. let me hear you. do i make you feel good? hm?” you shake your head vigorously, staring down into her green eyes staring right back up at you. she now loops her arms around your legs and spreads them further, making you squeak. “fuck, such a pretty fucking pussy,” she moans, and slowly starts licking up and down continuously.

you’re a mess. one hand gripping her hair, trying to push her even more into you, making ellie grunt, her own panties quickly getting wet at how bad you wanna cum. your other hand is placed perfect cupping your left tit, playing with it just like ellie told you to.

“el’s you’re gonna make me cum,” you whine, your eyebrows furrowed and voice raspy. you look so fucking sexy right now, and ellie tries her hardest to take a mental picture for later.

“yeah? you gonna cum baby?” she teasingly asks you and you whimper out a mhm. once again speechless with the way ellie is slopingly eating your pussy.

you suddenly feel a finger teasing your entrance before it slowly slips in. your moans groan louder, and her pace quickens.

“el’s, ca- can i please?” you beg, the knot in your stomach was growing rapidly. she lifted her head up for less than one second, a stern ‘cum’ leaving her lips, before she returns back to where her tongue was. you scream as you do, vision going black as ellie fucks you though your orgasm, fingers now rubbing even faster on your clit, causing you to completely come undone and cum all over her face. she doesn’t stop until you’re shaking and overstimulating under her. when she does, the only sounds in the room are your quick pants, and ellie’s bed as she moves to scoot closer towards you.

“woah,” you say, still trying to catch your breath. “that was..”

“way overdue” ellie chips in. the two of laugh and you move to lean you head on her shoulder. it’s silent again before you finally speak up.

“i don’t think i ever really thanked you for taking care of my today. i don’t think i would’ve been able to have this much fun today if it wasn’t for you,” you tell her and you feel her hands that were once in your hair, come around and lift your chin to give her a kiss m.

“you don’t need to thank me pretty girl, i wanted to take care of you.” her confession made your heart flutter. “plus i knew that maybe i might have a chance to finally fuck you,” she teases you and you hit her arm, jokingly sending her a scoff.

“you’re right by the way,” she finally adds on. you give her a confused look and hope she takes the hint to explain what she meant. “you’re not abby’s girl.”

“i’m not abby’s girl,” you repeat.

“you’re my girl,” she tells you, eyes never leaving yours, a small smile on her face.

“i’m your girl.”

-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

₊* a/n : ahhhh i really hope you guys liked it! 🤍 if you did please let me know because it would mean the world!

love you soooooo much MUAH

[nuemanfilms]

BAD HUNT

CW smutsmutsmut, against the sink, bar sex, semi-public sex, unprotected piv, fingering, getting caught kink, brief size difference mention, Dean pulls a gun on some guy trying to fuck with his girl, pet names, stinky guy, female bartender flirts with dean, reader can SING, praise, degradation, brief aftercare(??).

Rating 16+

Summary after a bad hunt, you and dean settle at a bar in the middle of no where, multiple things occur..

A/N i didn’t think i could write this much help?? it’s 1k

You both had enough of the night.

Instead of Dean driving you two home, he stopped in the middle of nowhere at some bar. And he had to say, he had the best time of his life with you.

God, your karaoke, your voice was just pure angelic, he couldn’t turn away, not even to see the blonde waitress that was flirting with him (who eventually walked away in frustration).

Dean settled on whiskey. Taking shot after shot as he watched you sing on the cheap stage. You were mesmerizing him and you didn’t even know. And sure, there were a couple guys in the bar who tried to get with you. But you always turned them down.

You had one person in mind. And he was staring you down like you were the prettiest eye candy ever.

Your hips swayed as you walked over to Dean with a precious smile. And you sat down beside him.

“Who’s got you whipped?” You said in a teasing manner. Dean snapped out of his trance and then responded with a gruff, “Shut up.” The man started smiling. You flashed him a smile as well.

“I’m gonna order more shots.” You spoke, getting out of your seat and walking up to the bar stand.

While you were waiting for the female bartender, some guy approached you with a big smirk. God, he reeked of alcohol. Worse than Dean going without a shower for a day.

“Hey, wanna get out of here, Beautiful?” He attempted to smile charmingly. “No thanks.” You responded, moving away from him before he grabbed your arm. “You really wanna leave with me, huh?” You struggled to get off before Dean spoke up, setting the shot glass down with a small slam.

“You heard her,” The guy turned to face him, He obviously was still under the influence. “What’s your problem, man?” Dean chuckled, forcefully pushing the older man away from you. Before Dean could gently grab your hand, the guy threw a punch. And that was when you knew to back out.

Dean groaned, before getting an annoyed look on his face. and before the guy could speak, dean pulled a gun out of his jeans.

“My problem? The fact you’re raising hell in a bar because a girl said no.” The gun was pointed and the guy genuinely had a scared look on his face. His smirk faded instantly.

“Look, my bad, man.” The guy scrambled off. Pushing open the door of the bar. And then he was gone.

Dean put his gun away and immediately went to your aid.

“Are you good?” He asked, and you nodded. “Words, Sweetheart.” He said in that voice of his. The one that every girl fell for. And this time, you were falling for it too.

“Yeah, yeah, I'm okay.” You replied, you noticed the mark on his face. “There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom, C’mon.” Without waiting for a response, you grabbed his hand and led him to the bathroom. The bar was mostly empty, and only god knew where that blonde bartender went.

You leaned against the sink as you cleaned Dean up. His eye contact was intense, and the tension was high. You felt as if you couldn’t even slice it with a knife.

“Thank you, by the way.” You spoke up, hoping to break some of the tension. Dean smiled before wincing in pain at the slight sting.

“It’s alright, don’t worry. I wanted to help you. Trust me, it’s okay.” Dean said, and there it was. The flutter in your stomach.

Something you always felt around Dean. You and Dean weren’t established, sure there was thick tension, but none of you dared to do anything about it. But right now, you felt as if you needed to break it. So, you kissed him.

His eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t hesitate to melt into the kiss. his hands wrapped around your waist as you curled your fingers into his short locks.

The first aid kit was long forgotten.

The kiss escalated, and Dean eventually pulled away to speak, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.” He chuckled, you smiled. “Yeah? What else have you been wanting to do?” Your teasing always got to him.

“This,”

He kissed you hard. Such a ferocity that you’d never seen from him before. His tongue probed at your bottom lip, demanding entry. Which you gladly granted him. You moaned into his mouth. His hands slipping down to tug your jeans down. Your damp panties being exposed to the cool air.

“Fuck, you’re dripping.” Dean groaned, there was a clear wet spot in the center of your underwear. And Dean had no problem finding your clit. You cried out in ecstasy. He then quickly shoved his hand to your mouth, attempting to drown out your not to mention ethereal sounds.

“Shh, don’t want anyone to find you like this, hm? Or do you want that? For people to see that I've got you leaning against a bathroom sink, ruining your pretty little pussy with just the touch of my finger?” His eyes darkened, lust covering his irises.

You nodded against his hand.

Your hair was tousled along with your lips swollen from his bruising kisses. And it was such a beautiful sight for him.

When you nodded your head, Dean felt his cock throb in his jeans. “Fuck, you want that? Dirty fucking girl.” You whined. His finger slipped from your clit down to your slit. Pushing in slowly. You let out a strangled moan against his palm.

“I got you, I've got you.. It’s okay, relax for me, Sweetheart.” He cooed, kissing your neck softly. Gently and slowly moving his fingers against your gummy walls. You adjusted to his digit as it moved in a rhythm. As if he was playing a musical tune.

“Y’ think you’re ready? To take me?” Dean spoke, adding a second finger. Scissoring them in and out of your cunt. You moaned, nodding your head. And he let out a strangled moan as well.

He gently pulled his fingers out, removing his hand from your mouth so he could undo his jeans. You could tell by the bulge in his pants, he was big. And there was definitely a clear size difference between you two. But he didn’t seem to care.

Once he shoved his jeans and boxers down, he stood in his full glory. You wanted to feel him on your tongue so bad, and the way you were eyeing him. He knew you did.

“Later, need to be inside of you first, ‘kay?” He lined up with your entrance. Waiting for your nod of consent. He didn’t even bother to cover your mouth. As if it was all part of a plan. You didn’t care though.

“Please,”

He pushed in slowly, the agonizing stretch of his cock filling your insides was delicious. And your mouth dropped open in a silent moan. Fingertips gripping his back. He stayed still for a minute. Giving you time to adjust (what a gentleman).

After a few minutes, he began to move.

“Hell- baby.. you’re so tight.” He hissed between gritted teeth. You couldn’t help but spew out moans of his name, your nails scratching down his back.

“H-Harder.. I— I can take it..” Dean laughed, a rumble going through his chest. He sped up his pace, skin on skin filled the small bathroom. The sound of your wet pussy squeezing him was well heard. You moaned out, and you almost seemed to have got increasingly tighter, which signaled him you were about to cum.

“Come for me, baby.. you can do it, i’m right here.” Dean then grunted, “You’re such a good girl, taking my dick so well in that tight little pussy, hm? Such a fuckin’ good girl..” He praised you over and over again, leading you to a climax you never experienced before.

“Dean!” You cried, and he groaned as he stilled, emptying himself inside of you. Your vision went white, your legs shaking uncontrollably. You were in pure bliss.

When Dean pulled out, you let out a whine at the emptiness. “Tomorrow, Sweetheart. Gotta get you cleaned up first.” He smiled, tucking himself back into his jeans.

After he grabbed a cloth from the bathroom shelf and dampened it, he gently applied pressure to clean up your shared juices. Kissing your thigh as you whimpered at the ache.

You then eventually spoke up, “I think the bar’s closed now.”

[toxicanonymity]

i need more raider joel more than i need air in my lungs

Night air.

3500 words, raider!Joel x f!reader | ✨gif

Raider master list ⭐ Joel master

reader-curated playlist | sweet pea (smut songs)

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie. . . He makes room for you, but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry.

You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t.  "When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask instead.

SUMMARY: Joel brutalizes a bad guy, gives it to you hard, then works on something for you and gives it to you slow. His POV is revealing. WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates, ANGST, Joel's trauma, overkill violence, dubcon (stockholm syndrome) unsafe P in V x2 (hard then soft), dark fluff, f masturbation, somnophilia, staying inside, NO Y/N. A/N: ty @milla-frenchy for Qs & recs 🖤

—--- JOEL——

Yeah, Joel killed two of his own men, and they had it coming.  He caught them red handed on their way into your room in the stash house. It still makes his blood boil to think about. If they hadn’t walked into that room talking about you like a piece of meat, those two men would be alive. Joel would do it again in a heartbeat.  

He’s not surprised when the others are shaken, but if they’re good men, they have nothing to worry about.  When things remain tense longer than he expects, Joel rounds them up for a group meeting. He puts you in the usual room with his trusted guard Carter posted at the door.  The meeting becomes heated. 

“No one’s gonna be left at this rate,” one man barks.  “They ain’t gonna say it,” he gestures behind him to the other men, “but I will. She shouldn’t be here.” 

Joel’s voice raises with his blood pressure. He asks, “What’d you say to me, Harold?" as he stands up. 

Louder, maybe loud enough for you to hear, Harold repeats, “She shouldn’t be here.  It’s bound to happen.” Bound to happen? These low-lifes are bound to put their hands on Joel Miller’s girl? Joel can feel the beat of his rage in his veins. All his muscles tense. 

He takes a deep breath, exhales sharply, then says matter-of-factly, “I’ll show ya what else is bound to happen.” 

Joel picks up his rifle. 

"Yeah, kill me," Harold chides. "Kill us all."

Joel shakes his head no. His voice is deep and flat.  "Not until ya beg me to." Now he’s gotta make an example out of someone. 

Joel forces Harold outside, then puts his rifle behind his back and lets Harold take a swing at him, just for fun.  When Joel gets this wound up, he needs to feel something. After getting clocked square in the jaw, Joel beats him until he’s barely conscious. Then, Joel hoists Harold, who is not a light man, and impales him on a sharp, severed fence post. 

Joel puts his rifle around front again, leaving Harold alive but doomed, and heads back toward the house.  He’s almost to the door when Harold manages to groan through his gurgles.  Joel turns around, calmly raises his rifle, shoots him in the head, then keeps walking. He goes back inside, chest heaving, wiping blood splatter off his face with his wrist. The rest of them are still inside. No one came to Harold's defense or ran. Joel stares down the men, and based on the faces he sees, he’s not worried about any of them.  

“Rest of ya got nothin’ to worry ‘bout,” he reassures them. “long as ya leave her ‘lone.” 

The men nod. Joel thinks about adding, and I’m not the only one you’ve gotta worry about, tempted to warn them that you know your way around a pistol and can handle yourself. One bullet, right between the eyes of that fucker. Joel thinks about it all the time. There’s something about his little sweet pea being a badass. And thank god, because he almost lost you. 

“Now back to business.” 

They discuss the rival crew they think sent two guys to Joel’s trailer, only for Joel and you to kill them. Joel doesn't think the crew is stupid enough to cause any more trouble, but agrees someone has to keep watch Just in case. 

Joel almost reminds his men that he holds all the smuggling routes and contacts, just in case they’re concerned enough to pull something.  But he doesn't need to say it. He dismisses them and grabs a duffle bag before collecting you from Carter. Carter asks what to do with Harold, and Joel says leave him for a while.

–

When the two of you get back to his trailer, Joel is ready to fuck out his anger. He sees himself in the mirror, chest heaving, veins about to pop, blood splatter on his hairline. God damnit, Harold. Joel  showers because he doesn’t want any part of Harold getting close to you. Not even his blood. 

You’re in the kitchen getting a glass of water when Joel walks out of the bathroom in just a towel.  He crosses the kitchen, drops the towel, and pins you against the counter, pressing his hardness against your ass. He backs up enough to scrunch up your dress and growls, "good girl," when he finds you panty-less and wet. You knew. You were ready for it. 

He grunts as he shoves himself into you, and he gives it to you good. "No one’s," he thrusts, "gonna," he grunts "touch ya." He plunges into you twice more, breathing heavily, then adds, “but me.” The power of his hips sends you to your toes with each thrust. He wraps an arm around you to hold you steady and watches over your shoulder as your tits jiggle with each punch of his hips. It doesn’t take you long to come.  Then he curls his hands under your arms to hold your shoulders down from the front and begins to pulse with a low groan. He leans his head against yours and cradles it from the other side as he catches his breath, then asks, “you good?”

You nod, “mm-hmm,” and he pulls out, feeling better. 

“Good.” 

-

In the following days, things settle down in Joel’s group and get back to normal. The rival crew doesn't show up.

—--

One night, Joel leaves you inside the trailer while he sits out by the fire, as he often does.  What you don't know is that he's not just sitting, drinking, and thinking.  He’s working on something.  He’s been making things for you. He hasn’t given you anything because nothing’s good enough, and it’s probably not going to get any better, but he keeps doing it.  Sometimes he feels a little silly, but they’re things that will help both of you.  Practical things. 

He made a thigh holster for your gun. There was an old one without the straps in the weapons cache which is just a small room of chaos in the stash house, no telling what else is in there.  He used part of a belt for the top strap and some black ribbon on the bottom, for the time being.  It would be better than nothing, but he hasn't given it to you in case it wouldn’t work. Maybe it doesn't matter. As the weather changes, you'll probably need new clothes, anyway. Maybe even pants, he internally grumbles. Sweaters, too, so your chest won’t be exposed. 

Tonight, Joel has another strap of leather with him, one that wasn't right for the holster. He also has a pot of water and a steel nail with a makeshift handle so he doesn’t burn himself. He heats up the tool and uses the hot nail head to emboss the strap with bold letters. He’s been working on it all week, and he’s only on ‘E.’ It’ll be first name only at this rate. You might not wanna wear it anyway, but it’s for your own good.  

Joel’s almost lost you twice now. If there’s anything he can do to make someone think twice about touching or taking you, he’ll do it. Because Jackson, may he burn in hell, was right. Joel can’t have his eyes on you every single second. He's told you before: you tell’em you belong to Joel Miller. They’ll back right off when they hear it.  But it doesn’t hurt for them to see it, too. And of course Joel wouldn't mind seeing it himself. 

Joel’s fingers are too big for work this small.  He accidentally makes the vertical line of the E slanted. Ah hell, this whole thing is no good anyway. You may never see it at this rate. But it feels good working with his hands, especially on something he thinks could help keep you safe and keep you his. You're a good girl, his good girl. 

He should be thinking strategy, what’s going to happen with these warring crews, but that’s just not where his head’s at.   

—--- YOU 🌸🫛—-----

You listen to the fire crackle and pop, longing for Joel to come to bed, longing for him to hold you, and more.  He seems to stay outside longer than usual. When he adds a new log to the fire, you get impatient and decide to go out. You put on your shoes and go to the door, pushing it open just an inch. The rail to the stairs is blocking your view, but he's looking down at something. His jaw clenches in the firelight and he raises his eyebrows as he looks up.  You slowly open the door, stepping out onto the stairs in your nightie.  He puts something down on the ground, out of view.  

“‘s’too cold out here, sweet pea. put on a shirt, would ya?" Your heart flutters at the implicit invitation and you return with a flannel over your nightie.  As you approach, he takes a swig of whiskey and puts the flask down.  His eyes are dark as he watches the flames.  He makes room for you but doesn’t take his eyes off the fire as he lets you climb into his lap. You study his face and see something new flickering behind it. Worry. You want to ask him what’s wrong, but you don’t. 

"When are you gonna come to bed?” you ask. 

His brows knit as he looks at you. For a few seconds, he concentrates on picking lint off the flannel and smoothing your nightgown. 

“I dunno, sweet pea. Got some stuff to figure out.”  

“Can I help?”

He shakes his head no. You put your arms around his neck and rest your cheek against his shoulder. Then you slowly roll your face against him so your lips touch his warm skin and your nose rests on top of his shoulder muscle.  You close your eyes and stay like that for a moment.  He doesn’t stop you. Then you dare to press your lips ever so slightly into his skin before pulling your face back to look at him, your lips disconnecting with a barely perceptible smack. Joel’s still looking at the fire, but he allows himself a subtle smile as he exhales a silent laugh, then cradles your head.  “Go to bed, sweet pea.” He kisses your temple. “I’ll be there in a li’l bit.” 

You take the flannel off and get in bed, still smelling like the fire. You think of getting naked, eager to feel Joel however he wants you. But maybe he likes undressing you, and it’s chillier than normal, too.  You lay under the covers getting wet and tingly thinking about what he'll do when he comes to bed.  

The fire is still blazing.  There’s no sign of him putting it out.  It doesn't seem like he's coming in soon, but you're too turned on to just go to sleep. You close your eyes, recalling the feeling of Joel’s warm skin on your lips by the fire.  The way his eyes sparkled. The way he always opens his arms for you to get in his lap–that seat is always yours whenever you want it. 

You think about how handsome he is. Even, or especially when he’s looking rough.  All dirty and beat up when he got home that one night, muscles pumped up. His sexy stitches. You play a montage in your head of all the times you’ve heard him yell, seen him stomp around ordering guys to do this or that. How fiercely he protects you. Your lip creeps under your teeth and you close your eyes. 

All the way turned on, you slide your hand down between your legs and imagine him walking in and ravaging you.  You recall how urgently he fucked you at the kitchen table after he thought you almost died.  You recall the time he fucked you naked in missionary and and marked your neck.  You try to visualize the look in his eyes.

And then, when you’re just about to come, you remember that one morning. Those few seconds you kissed, when he kissed you back. He had pulled you into him before he knew what he was doing. You still savor that fleeting moment he was grinding against you, his plush lips locked with yours. You can practically feel it.  And that’s enough to put you over the edge. You turn your head into the pillow and brace for your orgasm. 

—----- JOEL —------

You must think Joel can't hear your pretty little sounds when you touch yourself, but over the crackling of the fire he could swear he hears you moan into a pillow. His nose can't help but twitch into a little smile. He lets the fire die as he finishes the 'E',  then he comes inside and washes off the smoke in the shower. By the time he gets in bed, you're asleep on your back with your left arm on your chest. 

He carefully gets into the bed, spreading his weight out to not jostle the mattress. He's to your left, lying on his side, facing you. You’re so pretty and peaceful with your eyes closed and your sweet lips just slightly parted. An urge has been growing in his chest. He’s tried to push it away, but it's only grown, and he's afraid he can’t stop it happening. 

He can’t bring himself to do it when you’re awake. He can’t let himself see how happy it makes you. The loss feels inevitable, and it gets closer and closer.  The panic he felt when FEDRA had you on the ground.  The devastation when it sounded like you were shot outside his own trailer. It gets worse every time. And last time, there was something new. Two losses flashed before his eyes.  The loss of you (in the present and future), and the loss of what could have been–at least for a while, when he had the chance. The worst part is, he doesn't know which would hurt more.  

His eyes fall on your mouth again. 

If he does it now, it won’t mean anything. It won’t change anything. If he does it now, maybe this urge will stop pulling at him every time you’re close.  And then he can tell himself it never happened. Yeah, if he does it now, it can be like it never happened. Like he never let himself get that close, never gave you hope that he could be anything more than the terrible man he is. 

His lip twitches as he watches you sleep.  Then his breathing syncs with yours, and for a moment, everything fades away but you and him and the physical need that's tugging at him.  

Joel leans over you, careful not to wake you, and he hovers over your pretty face. It's happening. His heart races as his face drifts toward yours, drawn to you like a magnet. 

He closes his eyes, presses his lips gently into yours, and something rushes through his blood to every part of his body.  Fuck.  He's instantly soothed. With your lips still locked, he takes one breath through his nose then pulls away. He takes a deep breath, expecting the buzz to fade, expecting to hate himself. But you're so pretty and your lips were so soft. He almost chokes on his own saliva.  He's quickly gotten hard.

Still fast asleep, you sigh and your nose twitches. You hum the prettiest little "mm," and roll over on your right, facing away from him like you normally sleep. 

He pinches his eyes shut tight. He has to have you. 

–

Joel curls himself around you, inhales your hair, and cups your breast. He presses his cock against you, hardening to full strength by now.  He lets out a deep but quiet, "Mmm," not enough to wake you up. The exposed skin of your back and shoulder is so inviting, he's salivating. His arm slides from your breast down your nightie to your mound and you sigh. He lifts his head to see if you're awake as he aimlessly caresses you over your nightie. Your brow furrows with his light touch. Aw, sweet pea, he thinks to himself. You're just so cute. He presses a gentle kiss into your neck where it meets your shoulder, and he begins to ghost your clit through the fabric. 

You sigh again, but still don't seem to wake up yet. He presses your mound so your hips tilt for him, and he pulls up the nightgown. He tests you with a finger and finds you wet but pulls back and pauses to add saliva to his tip.  He teases your entrance with his cock, and you sigh "Mmm, Joel," as you begin to stir awake. He pushes the curve of his tip just slightly inside, then holds your breast. 

He asks, “You 'wake?” 

“Mmm,” you answer weakly. 

"wake you up?" His cock prods at your tight, wet entrance, pushing in a little further.. He's itching to be inside you, but he's taking his time, captivated by your peacefulness. 

Your spine arches and you push back on him, taking another inch of his cock in with a moan as you stir awake. "Joel,” you sigh. 

He presses his lips into your neck and lets them linger.  You ask, "are you awake?" 

"Mm-hmm," he answers, his voice deep and gravely.  He groans softly as he pushes his cock into you. He takes a deep breath as your insides make room for him. It dawns on him that he's never taken the time to savor the moment your bodies are joined, but shit, it feels good. He didn't know it could feel so good like this. He’s feeling every groove of you in slow motion. Each centimeter of you greets him with a tight, warm hug.  You push back on him with a moan, bringing your bodies together. 

Oh, sweet pea. You want it so bad, and you take it so good.

—---YOU 🌸🫛—---

Joel’s cock spreads you apart and he buries his length in you slowly at first, palming your breasts. He pauses, all the way inside you, and removes your nightie so your naked bodies are flush. It feels like a dream. The way he kissed your shoulder, the way he’s fucking you right now with his whole body cradling yours, each thrust so deliberate, you can’t help but still wonder if he’s truly awake. If you're truly awake. He grunts softly each time he bottoms out. His sighs and moans are deep and gravely. 

“Sweet pea,” he whispers against your neck, “ohhhh, you — ohh, you take it so good, baby.” His hand slides down your stomach, between your legs. He whispers in your ear,  "God DAMN, youfeelsogood,” he inhales sharply, then sighs your name.  Your nipples harden and you get goosebumps. 

“Joel,” you whimper at his fingers on your clit.  The fullness of his cock was enough, and the addition of his hand has you twitching already.  

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he whispers, and his voice is so soothing, you relax again. He slows down his pace, his length sliding snugly into your warmth slow enough to feel the drag of his tip inside you. He touches your clit and you whimper again. He adjusts his hand to touch it less directly, pulsing his flattened fingers.  That’s what you need. You moan. 

“Good girl.” 

You wanna ask him again if he’s really awake, but you don’t want to break the spell. You let the silence linger, peppered with moans and sighs from each of you. You’d love for this to last forever. You love every way he gives it to you, but the newness of this is something to savor. After a few minutes, sweat begins to bead and run between your bodies.  You’re both breathing heavily. He gropes at your breasts and the entire front of your body, like he can’t get you close enough. His breathing gets ragged.  You memorize the feel of his cock dragging thick and slow inside you.  Then he adds his hand again. His thrusts become more powerful.  “Come for me, I want you to– nnngh.” 

“Joel,” you whine. 

‘Ohh,” he moans. 

“Joel, I’m–”

“Go ‘head, baby—ugghh—-you can do it”

Your upper back presses into his chest.  He groans and holds you tight as you convulse against him and choke his cock with your climax. “Ohhhh, baby, mmmm.” He bottoms out and pulses inside you as you’re still coming.  He sighs "ohhh," as he fills you up with his warm release. Your body hugs him more with every pulse of his cock.  

When you’re both finished coming, your bodies are still joined. You relish the fullness of him inside you.  You expect him to pull out any minute, but his breathing regulates with yours. 

At some point, Joel's breath stutters abruptly, and you realize he's fallen asleep like this. Holding you close, body curled around you, cock gradually softening inside you. It isn't long until you drift off, too. 

-

Smut continues here: asleep inside

Next major chapter: hunger

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Please consider commenting or reblogging to show raider Joel your love, even if this post is old. 💖 Love you guys. I love your passion for him. Your engagement motivates me. <333

Friendly reminder that there will be no pregnancy in this fic, Joel was snipped pre outbreak. 

----

@toxicfics for notifications, make sure your phone is set to enable push notifications from tumblr. Some of my fics are pretty dark!

⚠️ Since so many people are saying tags aren't working, I may discontinue the tag list soon, sorry ⚠️

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname   @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

[agent-cupcake]

Amen

Pairing: Suguru Geto x f! Reader

Synopsis: No matter the severity of your actions, Suguru would never actually hurt a member of his sorcerer family. Luckily, there are other ways he can think of to punish you. It's for your own good.

Warnings: Explicit smut, dubcon, possessive behavior, manipulation

Tags: Punishment, edging, orgasm denial, overstimulation, dirty talk, vibrators, bondage, orgasm torture, cunnilingus, humiliation

Word Count: 10.4k

Notes: This story is for @laurenzel. I think this can be almost seen as a companion to my previous Gojo story since there's similar toxic motives and means used by the men, but a difference in method.

“Would you care to join me tonight?” was what Geto said to you, smiling so sweetly, so gently. He said it like an offer, or a question, but you both knew the answer. It was the same as it had been since the very first time he asked, since the first time he kissed you, since the first night you spent together.

And you, finally given direction in the big, confusing world, couldn’t even conceive of saying no to Geto. You didn’t have to do, say, or think anything on your own—just follow him. And you did. Happily, you did, thinking nothing of the offer other than how pleased you were that he asked. 

Chills prickled over your bare arms and legs when you walked into his room. The air felt a few degrees too cool, especially when you were accustomed to the August heat. Everything about his room seemed cold. It was furnished in stark contrast to the simple, traditional temple façade the rest of the complex maintained outwardly. Black painted walls, a hard floor, and ebony furniture upholstered with dark leathers and suedes. There was a flat, modern utilitarianism to the room despite its luxury, all at once inviting and off putting. The silky black sheets and dusky saturation of velvety vanilla and citrus lent a sex appeal to the room that you inextricably associated with Geto.

“Will you help me with this?” he asked, gesturing to his clothes. 

“Yes, of course,” you said, rushing to his side to help him undress. Even though the vestments Geto wore were for show, the articles were genuine and required careful handling. A perfect costume needed to be authentic. You unfastened the kasaya first, hanging it up. 

“I think,” he said while your hands were busy, “we need to talk about what you did.” 

You paused, turning to him with your brow furrowed, your stomach dropping in response to the accusatory tone of his voice. “What did I do?” 

“You killed Kurokawa.” 

Your frown deepened, your chest tightening with a harsh burst of guilt. “How do you know that?” 

Geto raised an eyebrow. That was the wrong thing to ask, it made you look more guilty than you were. Besides, the answer was obvious. He knew everything. You shook your head fast, trying to come up with an explanation that didn’t sound like an excuse. 

 “I… I thought you would be happy I took care of him,” you said. “He was causing trouble. He was a bad man.” 

“If you thought I would be pleased, why didn’t you tell me right away?” 

There were reasons, weren’t there? Good ones, explanations that could help you smooth this over. Beneath the weight of his gaze, you couldn’t think of any of them. “I… I don’t, um…  I was going to, but I didn’t want to distract you or anything. I’m not… I didn’t mean-”

“No. You didn’t tell me because you knew you were wrong,” Geto stated, telling you so directly that you couldn’t help but believe it.  

“I’m sorry,” you said softly. 

“To be clear, I’m not concerned with his death,” Geto told you. “I’m worried about you. About what you might do without my intervention. I have been for a while.”  

“I don’t… I don’t understand,” you said. That was probably the most true thing you could say, the sentiment that defined your existence. You did not understand. 

“I like to think that you’ve grown since you joined the family, but sometimes I don’t know if I can trust you to act with a clear head. Kurokawa was a doctor, wasn’t he?” 

You bristled at the reminder, mentally pushing back on the idea that you did it for such a personal reason. “He was… he was dangerous,” you argued. “He wanted to get the police involved.” 

“That isn’t my point,” Geto explained. “You acted out on your own. I knew Kurokawa was causing problems, but I didn't ask you to kill him. He still had value to me, in his own way." He paused, considering you with pursed lips. "If you told me what you did immediately, maybe I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, but as it is, all this proves is that you haven’t moved beyond your past experiences. I can’t trust you."

You bit your lip, swaying back as if those words had been a physical blow, only becoming more confused. Completely and utterly confused about how killing somebody who was a bad man, killing a hateful monkey upset Geto. You did it for him. You did it because the man was evil, and because he said terrible things, and because he was a hideous embodiment of the type of person who would see you locked up tight in another drug dispensing, mind-numbing, monkey hospital. 

All you could understand was that you had disappointed Geto, and the cutting violence of his doubt cut deep into your chest as physically as a knife. 

“I’m sorry,” you said again.

“Are you going to finish this?” Geto asked rather than acknowledge your apology, pulling at his collar. You nodded, rushing back to his side to untie the obi sash and fold it, helping him shrug off his black yukata to hang that up as well.

Left in a tight undershirt, a pair of loose pants, and socks he was quick to peel off and toss aside, Geto-sama emerged from his costume looking a decade younger and twice as dangerous. Like this, he was Suguru. You weren’t equals, but you were more than a little familiar. Although, you weren’t sure if you would dare to be so friendly with him now that you understood you were in trouble.

Before, you assumed you were here because he desired you. Now that felt presumptuous and silly.   

You averted your eyes and stepped back, waiting for the other shoe to drop. The silence physically hurt. Apologies built up like a dam in your head, stopping any other sort of thought from getting through as guilt brewed and boiled in your stomach. Worse, you couldn’t say he was wrong. Maybe you had knowingly acted against Geto, against the family, because of what Kurokawa represented to you. Maybe you couldn’t be trusted. And, if that was true, maybe you deserved his anger and all of the terrible things that followed anger.     

“Are you nervous?” Suguru asked. 

“No,” you said quickly. 

“Liar. I can hear it. Your heart is racing. You’re scared. Is it me?” He nudged your chin up with the side of his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes and the little smile he wore. “Are you frightened of me?” 

“You’re angry,” you said, shrinking back. “Angry with me.”

“Oh,” Suguru hummed thoughtfully, “so you’re scared that I’m going to punish you. Is that it?” 

Hesitantly, you nodded. 

“You’re right, I am.” 

Your breath caught before you shook your head fast, panicking. “No, you… I’m really sorry. I mean it, I was just trying to… He deserved to die.”

“I understand,” Suguru said, “and I appreciate what you say you were trying to do. The problem is that I don’t believe that was your motive. That is why I’m upset.” He ran his fingers through his hair, putting into a messy bun. “Do you understand the distinction?”

You blinked fast, feeling the horrible bite of tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Now… what do you think would be a fitting punishment?” 

You looked up at him in stark shock, hoping desperately that you misunderstood him. He didn’t clarify anything, simply waiting for you to answer. You shook your head again, your mouth opening and closing before you managed a meek, “I don’t know.” 

“But you agree, don’t you?” he asked, going over to his chest of drawers. Suguru looked at you over his shoulder, eying you up and down, drinking your awkward nerves. “You deserve to be punished for your disobedience.”

You exhaled sharply, conflicted about what kind of answer to give. More importantly, what kind of answer he wanted. If you were smarter, you would be able to talk your way out of this situation. If you were better attuned to Suguru’s needs, you would be able to give him what he wanted. If you were loyal, he wouldn’t have been mad in the first place. Those thoughts weren’t helpful, all you could do was stare and try to solve the puzzle of his mood. You had seen that little smirk on his face when he teased Nanako, but also when he killed non-jujutsu sorcerers that had outlived their usefulness. 

“You’re really asking me?” you finally got out, the only response you could muster.

His back was turned to you now as he looked through the drawer, but you saw his shoulder raise in a casual shrug. “I’m curious.” 

 Your gut instinct was to deny that you deserved punishment to try and spare yourself, but you held that impulse. You had already agreed that you did something wrong, so denying that you deserved punishment could make things worse. Then again, if you agreed, then maybe he would take that as permission to do even worse. Either one could potentially upset him too, because it would prove that you didn’t know what he wanted. Suguru did nothing to alleviate your nervous indecision as he turned around, holding an unmarked red box, watching you with that enigmatic smirk.

“If you think I do,” you said carefully, “then-”

“No,” he said, cutting you off. “I am asking if you acknowledge that you deserve punishment for what you have done.”

“I won’t do it again,” you told him, your voice soft. “I promise.” 

Suguru frowned. “That’s not what I asked.”

“I know, but it’s true,” you insisted. Rather than relent to your distress, his eyes narrowed dangerously, finally giving you some indication about the response he actually wanted. “I do!” You said quickly. “I…” The words were thick like syrup, awkward to get out. “I deserve to be punished.” 

Suguru smiled, setting the box on the bed and sitting on the black leather footboard bench, his legs spread wide and comfortable and head slightly tilted.  

“Are you going to hurt me?” you asked softly.

“Hurt you?” Suguru asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “I would never hurt you. I don’t think you’re likely to learn from pain anyway, hm? It wasn’t effective for your parents or doctors.”

“But… but you said you were going to punish me?” you asked, looking between him and the box with an increasing amount of anxiety. 

“Take off your clothes.”

Your jaw dropped. “I… My… You mean it?” 

He raised both eyebrows, daring you to deny him. You clutched at the front of your dress, your shoulders curling in. 

“But why?” you asked. He immediately gave you a pointed look, like you were stupid. “This… it’s… You want to…?” You couldn’t even finish the question, the whole thing was so divorced from any coherence you could wrap your head around. 

“You're allowed to say no and leave, I won’t stop you,” Suguru told you. He considered that for a moment, his head falling to the side. “If you stay, we’ll switch to your safe word rather than no. You remember it, don’t you?”

Safe word? You remembered him establishing that the first night he allowed you into his bed, but you hadn’t really thought much of it. Why would you ever want him to stop? Now the thought of it made you feel a little cold, and not because of the air conditioner valiantly chugging away in an attempt to keep the August heat at bay. It had taken a few days to come to terms with sleeping with Suguru after it first happened, but this was unreal in an entirely different way. You felt like you were looking down a very long, dark tunnel, like you were hopelessly and utterly lost.   

“I do,” you said faintly. “I remember.” 

“It’s your choice then.” 

You winced, unable to look at him. You weren’t going to leave. That was unthinkable. The idea of undressing in front of him like it was some sort of show wasn’t especially comfortable either, but you understood that you would do it. “That’s… it’s embarrassing.”

“I’ve noticed,” Suguru said. “You don’t want to think of yourself as the type of woman who would strip for a man. But you are, and you will. For me.”

You flushed darker, avoiding his eyes. Trying to keep your breathing from going completely out of control, you nodded. It was easier to obey. You wouldn’t know what you would do if you left his room right now, where you would go, how you would feel. It wasn’t about you, it was about what you had done to disappoint Suguru, and how you would make it right. He wanted to know that you were loyal, that you had left behind the pathetic wretch you used to be. 

Humiliating as it was, he was helping you. That was all he had ever done. 

“Yes, sir.” 

With shaking hands, you unzipped your dress. Considering the summer heat, you were wearing as little as possible. Three articles of clothing separating you from his eyes. You weren’t sure if that was better, making it so the process of undressing wasn’t so drawn out, or worse because it meant you couldn’t stall. 

“Keep going,” Suguru said when you hesitated with your thumbs hooked beneath the waistband of your panties. Closing your eyes, you pushed them down. The only positive you could think of was that you had the foresight to shave the night before. Ever since the first night you slept together you’d been taking personal grooming extremely seriously. Removing your bra was the worst of it all, but you dutifully undid the clasps and pushed the straps down your arms. He had seen you naked before, you reasoned. Even if you were disappointing, he still had asked to see you. It was fine. 

If Suguru wanted it, it was fine.

“You’re too pretty to be so self-conscious,” he told you in a very calm, matter-of-fact way. 

You tried not to shuffle awkwardly, clasping your hands in front of your stomach to hide their shaking. “Thank you,” you said softly, unable to meet his eyes even if you could feel them heavily on your flushing skin. 

“Come here,” Suguru ordered. In your peripheral, you saw his hand raise, a single finger curling to draw you towards him. 

You obeyed on awkward feet, glad to close the distance. He sat up to meet you face to face, having to look up at you for once and pulling you closer. You automatically parted your lips to kiss him. That was something you knew how to do. But his parted lips only brushed the corner of your mouth. When you tried to tilt your head to catch him, Suguru pulled back. Your eyes fluttered open—when had you closed them?—to see him smirking at the little trick. 

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, releasing you.

Nerves knotted and tangled in your stomach. There was something hot about his detached control, but you weren’t sure you liked it either. Vulnerability was discomfort. And still, you knew better than to argue or question. Trying to preserve as much of your modesty as was possible, you got onto his bed. It was easier to comply. Better to be obedient like he wanted. You didn’t want to disappoint him again. 

“These are for you,” Suguru said, finally revealing the contents of the red box by lifting the glossy lid. 

You stared into the box with curiosity, and then with a sharp pang of recognition. After that, nerves. Dread. Excitement. Blinking over and over didn’t change what you saw, there was no mistake about what lay inside. A lot of leather. Some chains. Scarf-like ties. You were pretty sure the wand-shaped item was a vibrator. 

Suguru choked you last time you had sex, and he pinned your wrists down and pulled your hair and left marks on your thighs and chest, but this was different. Dangerous. This was scary. 

“Geto-sama…” you said nervously, sticking to the formal address in the hopes that he would understand the sincerity of your doubt. “I’m not…”

“As I said, you’re allowed to stop this at any time,” he said, dropping the lid back onto the box with a crisp snap. “I would never force you into anything. If you truly feel bad for what you have done and want to prove yourself to me, I shouldn’t need to coerce you.”

Guilt and nerves writhed in your stomach. And excitement, always excitement for the simple reason that it was Suguru. You would do anything for him, wouldn’t you? He had saved you. You disappointed him, it was only right that you did as you were told. You pushed the lid off again, forcing a sort of resolve. Your heart beat like a frantic war drum in your chest, and you were flushing so hotly it felt like a fever. 

“What’s this all for?” you asked, your voice hoarse. 

“You won’t be able to hold still on your own,” he replied simply. “Besides, I think you’ll look sexy like this. I was waiting for an opportunity to try it.” 

The bottom of your stomach gave way to anxious lust. You licked your lips, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Okay,” you said softly. 

“Put them on for me,” Suguru said, pulling out four of the leather cuffs. Your eyes widened, your lips parting to argue that as a step too far. It would be so much easier for you if he did it himself, if you didn’t have to actively engage with putting yourself in a literal bind. 

Although maybe that was the point. This was punishment. 

Prove your loyalty. You could do that for him. 

Despite your forced mental affirmation, the whole task seemed too daunting for a moment, you had a nervously suffocating sense like drowning, but you forced that down. You would do anything for Suguru. That’s what this was about. Proving to him that you were loyal, that you would do as he said. That you were devoted.  

You did the wrist cuffs first, slipping the first over your left hand and tightening the strap with your right. There was only one size; they would fit snugly. Thick chains hung from both cuffs. Although they weren’t as bad as pure metal bracelets, the leather wouldn’t be kind to your skin if you resisted too much. Tightening the strap on the right cuff was even worse since you were working with your non-dominant hand. 

“Do you need help?” Suguru asked, laughing at your frustrated attempts to get the tongue through the buckle. 

“Don’t laugh, please,” you begged, talking very softly to hide your increasingly unstable emotions. “I’m trying.” 

“Here,” he said indulgently, “let me.” Suguru held out his hands for you to let him finish securing the cuff. “Do you need help with your ankles?”

“No, I… Thank you,” you said, unable to look at his expression. You could do this. You had to do this. 

Still, your hands trembled unsteadily. When you nervously fumbled with the leather strap around your ankle, he laughed again. 

“Don’t look,” you mumbled. The chains hanging from your wrists playfully clinked against the chains on your ankles.  

“I have to make sure you do it properly. You could hurt yourself.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whispered, more petulant than anything.  

“I know,” Suguru told you sweetly, “but you’ve been such a good girl so far.” 

Your breath caught at the praise. At the very least, he looked away to pull off his shirt. You used the distraction to get your ankles secured, watching him remove his pants with your hands between your legs to retain some modesty. Suguru, stripped to his boxers, surveyed your handiwork, a little smile growing on his face.

“What?” you asked nervously. 

“Given how shy you are, I thought it would take more than this to convince you to do this for me. I don’t know if I’m disappointed or impressed.”

You frowned with a twisting sense of betrayal, but he cut off your displeasure by grabbing your legs to yank you towards him, leaning over the bed so he could kiss you.  

Before Suguru, you hadn’t really understood what the point of kissing was. It was an act of affection you mirrored with others because it was what people did. When Suguru licked your lips open for himself, you understood. Any touch of his body against yours had a potent effect, but the openly intimate domination of his tongue against yours, his fingers slipping up your hair to tilt your head, the hand on your bare waist, it was enough to clear your mind all over again. Igniting the purest type of motivation—lust. 

You wanted to show him your devotion. You wanted him to know you were sorry. You clung to his shoulders, hoping he could feel it.

All too soon, Suguru pulled back, his lips hovering inches from your own. You tried to follow, but he held you in place by your hair. 

“I’m impressed,” he said, answering his comment from before. “I admire your dedication. I only wish it extended to your actions. I can’t trust you until I know you obey me.”

“I do,” you said. “I…I will.” 

“Not yet.” Suguru didn’t wait for your response, pressing a chaste kiss on your lips, your cheek, and then tilting your head to whisper in your ear. “Move back. I’ll take care of the rest,” he told you, his husky voice making you shudder.

“Yes, sir,” you muttered so softly you wondered if he heard you. When Suguru pulled away, you scooted back to sit in the center of his bed, waiting and watching with equal parts nerves and anticipation. He picked through the red box again, pulling out another set of leather cuffs and a bundle of those silky scarves. 

“Open your legs,” he ordered in a business-like voice as he joined you on the bed, crawling up to you and readying one of the leather straps. The sudden shift of tone surprised you, throwing you off all over again. 

“What’s that?” you asked nervously. He gave you a sharp look and you relented, opening your legs. Being exposed so brazenly made your skin crawl, but he paid no attention to your naked body, wrapping the strap around your thigh and fastening it, repeating the process on your other leg. 

“What is it that the monkey said to upset you?” Suguru asked casually as he tested the straps for give, deeming them satisfactory. The conversational tone burst your bubble of rose tinged intimacy, sending your thoughts back to unpleasant places. “I assume something set you off.” 

“I… um…” As if revealing a magic trick, he unwound a length of the red scarf-like fabric, distracting you from a question you hadn’t really understood in the first place.

“Or did he try to attack you?” Suguru pushed, neatly doubling the scarf and pulling it around your back. He had to sit close as he blindly tied the knot and the cashmeran twilight scent of his skin filled your senses, you held your breath when he pulled away just to keep it close for a moment longer. 

“Have you done this before?” you asked as he wound the scarf around your chest and shoulders with a practiced hand, searching for a distraction from the embarrassment. 

“Does it bother you if I have?” Suguru asked. 

“No, sir.” 

He had to lean forward again to fasten the final knot on your back. “You didn’t answer my question,” he said softly. “What happened?” 

You winced. “He called me delusional. He said I’m just a… a bitch in your harem, and that I’d go down with you.” 

“I see,” Suguru said, pulling back, his expression impassive. 

“I’m really sorry, Geto-sama,” you said. 

“Are you worried he’s right?” Suguru asked, his voice so saccharinely sweet it had to be mocking. 

“I don’t… I don’t know.” 

“You are special to me,” Suguru told you sweetly, petting your hair. 

“You’re special to me too,” you said, eager to try and express your adoration. “Very, very special.” 

“I’m doing this because you’re so special to me. I can help you grow, and help you move on. I can show you the benefits of an honest life without the petty influence of the weak, but I cannot force your obedience. I need you to choose to listen to me, to obey me.”

“That is my choice,” you said. 

“Haven’t you heard the phrase ‘actions speak louder than words’?” Suguru countered, revealing the final trick of his little magic show. The chains on your wrists connected to those on your ankles with a few inches of slack, your ankle cuffs connected to the straps on your thighs, and the loose ends of scarves from the harness he had just finished tying were threaded into the D-rings on your thigh straps. Unable to balance upright, you rolled onto your back, fully exposed and unable to do much of anything about it. “This is your chance to make amends.” 

Suguru put his hand on your bare chest, right above your racing heart as it beat against your ribs. “You’re scared again,” he said. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. Do you not believe that?” 

“I’m just…” you squirmed uncomfortably, unable to articulate what you felt. You didn’t know what you felt, couldn’t figure out anything beyond the intensely physical embarrassment and the panicked disquiet of being bound and exposed.  

“You know what to do to make this stop,” he pointed out, his hand dragging down your chest to your flinching stomach. “Just say the word, and I’ll let you leave.”

Suguru told you that almost like it was a joke. He was daring you to use the safe word and stop him, to show him that you weren’t as devoted as you claimed. His hand reached your pelvis and you whimpered, your hips wiggling in an undecided way. Did you want him to touch you, or were you nervous for that part? You couldn’t tell. The feelings were the same. 

He finally dropped over you, both of his hands resting on your ass before brushing up your thighs, pressing them further apart as he kissed you with an open mouth. Suguru’s tongue urgently met yours, teasing enough to invite your active and enthusiastic participation. To show him how much you wanted him. Of course you did. 

With a surprising bite on your lower lip, Suguru left your mouth to move down, licking and kissing his way across your jaw, following the line of your neck. He stopped there, sucking hard right above your pulse until you shuddered hard, making a soft, helpless noise. Your hands anxiously jerked, but all that did was snap the chains taut. Taking his time, his hand trailed down your thigh, his fingernails scraping the skin, until he reached your pussy. 

When Suguru’s fingers made contact with the sensitive flesh, you yelped, and he bit your neck hard enough to draw that yelp out into a pathetic keen. Your attempt to free your hands so you could push him back served only to pull your legs open wider. 

“Was that too much?” Suguru asked, lightly tracing your slit. 

“Hurts,” you said, your breathing hard and fast. He chuckled warmly, finding your clit and tracing little circles over it, just teasing. You whimpered. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” He asked, his lips brushing your skin as he moved down your chest. 

You made a choked, conflicted sound in your throat, any coherent response leaving your head the second his mouth closed around your nipple. Electric pulses of pleasure zipped down to your core, made that much more intense by the fingers on your clit. Suguru added more pressure against it, the weight sweetened by the friction of his calloused fingertips. Your hips rolled into the touch, your back arching for every delicious movement of his tongue or teeth on your nipple. 

A hoarse wail left your mouth when he released you with a wet pop, moving to do the same to your other nipple. His fingers were truly grinding against your clit at this point. It wasn’t the sweet enticement of pleasure, but a brute force motion that guaranteed you would come fast. 

You whined and moaned and shuddered, fighting the restraints. Sweat slicked up your skin, chafing beneath the restraints as you jerked, your body going taut to prepare for the sudden orgasm. You managed a choked, “I can’t, I can’t, I-” And then that tension snapped. It was good, but the rush was too fast and fleeting, fizzling itself out before you could savor the feeling. All it really did was make you want more.

With another lewdly wet pop, Suguru pulled off your nipple and sat up, his hand retreating from between your legs. “How did that feel?” he asked.

You swallowed, nodding fast. “‘s good. Tha-aa-nk you, sir.” 

“It’s interesting to me how much more sensitive girls are after coming,” Suguru said, teasing you with his fingers lightly tracing over your slit. “It’s almost obscene. Men need time, but you already want more, don’t you?” 

You shuddered, panting and flushed. “Yes. Yes, please.”

He smirked, although you couldn’t say you really understood the joke. Your entire body twitched, the chains clinking, and he licked his lips, looking at your flushed body like he was eying up a meal. 

Your eyes squeezed shut when he ran two fingers from your entrance, dragging a smear of slick arousal up to your clit. 

“No, don’t close your eyes,” Suguru said, beginning to draw patterns over your swelling clit. “Look at me.” 

You nodded, opening your eyes and meeting his gaze despite how overwhelming it was to be watched while he touched you so intimately. You squirmed, inhaling sharply through your teeth, already feeling the tantalizing build. 

“What about you?” you asked. “You don’t have to, um… um…” Blinking fast, breathing hard, your words scattered like dust and you felt the same tightening in your core, the sparkling promise of release. At the exact moment you were about to come again, Suguru pressed his hand flat between your legs, denying you that final push over the edge. 

Whining and desperate and so, so close, your hips bucked upward, desperate to come again. It was already too late, out of your grasp. “Geto-sama, please, I was-”

“No,” he said simply. 

“What?” 

“No. I’m not going to let you come again. I’ve already given you one more than you deserve.”

“No,” you whispered, horrified. “You… You can’t.” 

“No?” he repeated, his fingers tracing your clit slowly, with the barest amount of pressure. “You remember why I’m doing this, don’t you? I’m punishing you.” He pressed more intently against your clit. Unable to comprehend denial, your body began the process of drawing up tight. “You need to learn to be obedient. You have to learn to take whatever I see fit to give you.” 

“I am,” you gasped out. “I do, I-I will, I’m…” Your back arched, your arms and legs falling aside as if to make an offering of your body in the hopes that he would let you come this time. “I’m sorry that I… that I did that,” you babbled, your pussy tightening around nothing as your body got ready to come. “I’m really… really… I’m-” 

Suguru stopped just when you were on the precipice again, tapping your folds as if to mock your need. You squinted at him, your chest hitching a heavy breath, tears pricking your eyes. “But I said… Oh…” You didn’t finish what you were saying, too distracted by the slick slide of his fingers inside of you. So good. You swallowed hard, your cunt squeezing his fingers desperately as his fingers curled, dragging against your g-spot as they pulled out before thrusting forward. 

“If your words meant anything, you wouldn’t need to be punished in the first place,” Suguru pointed out, although you weren’t paying very close attention, your body awkwardly trying to roll into his fingers as they slowly fucked you. He touched your clit with his other hand, once again ensuring that you would come quickly. 

Too quickly, really. The intensity of pleasure shocked you, especially since you were so sensitive, desperate for more. “Please, can I… will you please… Please?” you begged, your animal need curbed slightly by fear. 

“You should know that no other man will do this for you,” Suguru said. “No one else will ever care for you the way I do.”

You nodded fast, knowing that was the truth. No other person in the world had ever been as kind or compassionate to you as Suguru. Nobody had ever wanted you, or made you feel important, or given you purpose. You loved him. You felt that affection swell alongside your building orgasm. 

He would let you come this time, he wasn’t slowing down. His fingers made a sickening wet schlick as they pumped in and out of your pussy, working in time with the finger on your clit. You were there, your body taut and ready and desperate and-

A wail escaped you when he stopped at the last moment, your entire body jerking in desperation to reclaim your ruined orgasm. As soon as it was gone, he returned to touching you in the same way, vigorously chasing you back to the edge and abandoning you seconds before you could get off. 

“Please,” you begged.

“I told you no,” Suguru reminded you, adding a third finger to pump and curl into your pussy as if to punctuate the cruel statement. You were off the edge now, but your body still stupidly strove to take more pleasure. You blinked tears, confused and needy and trembling, your breathing shallow. 

“Why?” 

He didn’t answer, he didn’t need to. The touch on your clit had you throwing your head back, your nostrils flared and teeth clenched. Chains clicked together when you tried to free your arms, but it was a fruitless struggle. You didn’t want to respond to his touch in the same way, you needed a reprieve, but there was no escape. You were sensitive. Your body remembered coming once, and that was enough of an incentive to try to get more. 

“You can always stop me,” Suguru said. “If it becomes too much.”

“It’s…” you told him, although your attempt to seem brave was weakened by your breathy, pathetic voice. “I’m… I can take whatever you give me. I’m…” You sobbed, overwhelmed by the drag of his fingers against your g-spot. He barely had to put any pressure on your clit, it was so swollen beneath his teasing fingers. “Please, sir. I just… Just one, please?”

“I already let you come once,” he reminded you, amused. 

You moaned miserably, your head tossing back and forth as you readied yourself for another orgasm. You hoped that maybe if you could just come before he noticed, then that would be enough to soothe the horrible ache, the fearful deprivation he kept stoking to a blaze. 

It was there, right at your fingertips, on the tip of your tongue, and Suguru hummed happily when he suddenly pulled his fingers out of you. You shouted, thrashing against your bindings. They all held, keeping you helpless beneath him. 

“Please, I… please.” 

“No,” Suguru said, slowly pushing just one finger into you. You sobbed when he used it to massage your g-spot. Not giving you any real pressure or weight or friction, just that constant reminder of the pleasure you had been denied.

“I can’t,” you said tearfully, straining to get more out of that single finger like a starving woman being thrown crumbs. 

“You can,” Suguru told you. His word was gospel. It didn’t matter what you thought. 

He pulled his finger out before you could get too used to it, only to return with three. You choked, your body jerking hard enough against the restraints to hurt, suddenly thrown into high gear as he properly finger-fucked you, bouncing your entire body. 

It didn’t matter that he wasn’t touching your clit, you could get off just on this. Your body was thrumming with denied pleasure and you wanted it so bad you could scream. 

“Yes, yes, please, yes—No!” 

You were properly sobbing this time when he stopped, almost horrified by the intensity of your body’s disappointment when his fingers pulled out. You had no idea how he was getting the timing so perfect, but it was worse than if he was just hurting you. Suguru shoved his fingers into your open mouth while you were still reeling, smearing the taste of your pussy onto your tongue. You didn’t need his instruction to suck on them, hoping that the display of thoughtless obedience would earn you some leniency.   

“Good girl,” he cooed, pushing his fingers deeper into your mouth, almost enough to make you choke. When he pulled them out, he didn’t linger, kissing a line down your stomach. Your arms fought the restraints when you realized his intentions because you weren’t sure you could handle feeling his mouth on you like this, not if he was going to keep denying you. 

“No,” you whined. “Please, I… I can’t…” 

“Yes, you can,” Suguru said calmly, not even bothering to look up at you.

A heavy, almost guttural moan left your mouth when his tongue licked past your folds, tossing you right back into the abyss of lustful need. All he had to do was brace his forearm across the backs of your thighs and you were unable to do anything, your trapped arms and legs twitching, your feet kicking uselessly into the empty air, the chains connecting them to your wrists clicking. 

Suguru was good at this, switching between flat-tongued licks and pointed patterns, closing his lips around your clit until you were choking out these pathetic little chirps, your body reacting in a way entirely out of your control. 

And when you were there, right at the very edge, he pressed a kiss to your clit and looked up at you from beneath his dark eyelashes. 

You sobbed, throwing your head back in a childish display of disappointment. 

“You’re alright. Breathe,” Suguru said.

“Please,” you begged.

Suguru hummed as he lowered his head, shaking it side to side with his tongue flat against your clit. Your toes curled, your hands forming pathetic fists.  

It didn’t take much to build you up all over again, your entire body was wired and ready. You didn’t think you had ever felt so aware of yourself. Your skin, your pussy, your heart, your body, everything crackled and blazed. What was he doing, drawing kanji with his tongue? You didn’t know, but it felt amazing. You chased that feeling knowing you shouldn’t, thinking that maybe this time, maybe if you were fast enough. Maybe, maybe, maybe-

“No, please, I just wanna…” Suguru’s tongue stilled and he pulled away, watching you fall apart at yet another denied orgasm. “No!”

He casually pressed two fingers into you, massaging them against that spongy spot with a wet squish that was beyond obscene. “You know what to say to make me stop,” he told you.

“I know,” you said, wishing you could cover your face, wishing for some point of sanity here in this lust-mad haze. “I don’t want… Please, Geto-sama, I just wanna come, please.”

“Oh?” he said, his other hand returning to rest on your pelvic bone to playfully tease your clit. “Do you think you deserve that?” 

“I…” You tried desperately to figure out the correct answer by looking at his expression, but you couldn’t tell and his hands kept you distracted. Deserve didn’t matter, all you could think was that you wanted to come. “Yes?” you said, hoping very much that was the correct response, practically praying for the torment to end. His fingers slowed and you let out an embarrassing little keen. “Ah… No, no I…” His expression still didn’t change, leaving you scrambling. Your chest hiccupped with a sob, your confused spiral boiling down to the pit of desperate need. “I don’t know.”  

Rather than respond, Suguru’s head lowered between your legs once more to tongue your clit in time with his fingers. You felt a hot rush of hope that you got something right, that he was finally going to let you come. Your entire body surged towards the feeling, going so stiff that it made your trembling muscles ache. 

And there, right on the edge, he stopped. You didn’t have it within you to do anything other than cry, openly weeping at this point. If he were only teasing you it would be one thing, but he was purposefully working you right up to the edge and then abandoning you there. It was the feeling of being unable to sneeze amplified to a million, that torturous feeling of almost.  

“I’ll do anything, please,” you told him, your voice coming out broken.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t before?” Suguru asked. You opened your mouth to argue, only to realize that it didn’t matter. Nothing you said or did mattered, you were helpless to him. You had already surrendered everything else, the only thing you could do was obey and hope for his mercy.  

You understood. He didn’t want you to beg. He wanted you to obey. To be good for him without question. 

You could do that. 

Suguru pushed his fingers back into you, repeating the whole process of working you up and abandoning you again. And again. And then he added his mouth. There were several times in your life you’d been pushed to the absolute brink of sanity, and right then you were convinced that you were going to go mad. But you grit your teeth and endured it. You had to. This was your punishment, and Suguru would decide when to end your misery. 

You had to be good for him.  

Had you ever been this wet? Swollen too, all of your blood flowing dangerously hot between your legs. It was disgusting, your pussy was sloppy and red and he barely had to touch your clit at all to build you right up to that edge. And it was just as easy to let you fall, disappointed and unfulfilled and growing increasingly, painfully distraught from the denial. 

You beat your fists pathetically against the bed, hitting your head into the pillow like a madman. Air puffed out of your chest fast and hard enough to make your head spin, like there wasn’t enough oxygen in the room. 

Rather than continue the torture, Suguru grabbed your chin, dragging you out of your spiraling haze. His fingers were slick from being inside of you. You met his eyes through a veil of tears. “Have you had enough?” he asked, his voice wavering with a parody of pity. “I’m worried you’re going to hyperventilate.” 

You blinked fast, trying to gather the coherence to respond. “I can… I can take it,” you told him with a miserable sort of resolve, your voice thin and breathless. 

Suguru smiled. “Really? And if I said I intended to leave you like this, perhaps to go find a way to fix the mess you made?” 

The thought was enough to make you sob. His attention was torturously uncomfortable, but being completely denied any resolution, being left bound and soaking wet and electrified with unfulfilled need, you almost would have rathered he hit you. 

But you nodded, forcing yourself to accept it. Anything less would be to reject his authority over you, right? It would make you seem less loyal. “Anything,” you whispered.

“Ah, that look in your eyes is wonderful,” he cooed. “You mean it, don’t you?” 

You nodded insistently. “I love you,” you told him, speaking without thought, saying it because it was true. “I’ll do… I’ll do anything.”

“Okay, I’ll let you come,” Suguru said, releasing your face so his hand could wander back down between your legs. 

You made a weak noise, your body unconsciously jerking, straining towards him. 

It was pathetic, he barely had to do anything, simply brushing his flat fingers in light circles over your swollen clit. And that was enough. Fear flooded your insides alongside the same frantic, hot rush of pleasure. All of your muscles contracted in a mass of sore, shaking muscles and bestial desperation because you were afraid he would stop again, afraid that he would deny you and there would be no recourse other than pathetic acceptance.

“Please, please, I-I love you,” you plead, your voice whispery, rough and desperate, borderline incoherent.

And he didn’t stop. 

That wet, hot snap of release was one of the best things you had ever felt. You convulsed, chains clicking and leather chafing against your skin and his name spilling from your lips over and over. He worked you right through the orgasm. You were crying again, sobbing and shaking and sticky hot. It felt good. It felt like forgiveness. 

“Another?” Suguru asked. Your eyes had been shut, but now they opened to see his smile.

You just shook your head, lacking the capacity to respond. 

He didn’t wait, pushing three fingers into you while teasing your clit with his other hand. It forced your body through a surprisingly uncomfortable rubbery mixture of overstimulation and mindless need. It left you feeling like an elastic band being stretched and stretched. In spite of that feeling, a few solid, harsh pumps later and you were coming again, your pussy squeezing his fingers to keep them there while he worked you through it. There was very little drama to it, you were already wrung out. But it was good. Hot and wet and good. 

Suguru didn’t stop. You fought the restraints, wanting to move, to writhe, to get more comfortable, to take some control back because you needed a moment to collect yourself. 

“I really-” It was hard to speak. Hard to form the words. Hard to get them out. “Oh God, I—ah.”

Almost painfully sensitive, the rough pounding of his fingers against your g-spot started to register as too much. You fought the restraints, a different sort of panic setting in. To keep your body from rejecting the pleasure of his touch, Suguru doubled down against your clit, pressing a little harder. You had been starving, but now you were splitting full from the assault pleasure. 

“Too—oo much,” you got out through your teeth, although it probably didn’t seem like it was too much when your back was arching accordingly, your pussy clamping down around his relentless fingers, that coiling buildup of release reaching its apex. 

Your mouth opened in a silent scream, your fingers and toes clawing helplessly at the sheets as you came, practically choking on the hot feverish intensity of your orgasm. 

“No, it’s not,” Suguru told you. His fingers slowed at least, and then pulled out. It wasn’t much of a reprieve, he immediately shuffled down the bed so he could situate his head back between your thighs. 

You hissed, tensing up, your arms jerking against the restraints. Your clit was too sensitive for his tongue, he had to understand that. “You… You don’t… Have to,” you got out, your voice unsteady from how hard you were panting. “I don’t need-” 

“Don’t worry,” Suguru said sweetly. “I’m not doing this for you.”

The wet, warm patterns he drew on your clit with his tongue sent you into a sort of delirium. No matter how sensitive you thought you were, it was intoxicatingly good. He focused entirely on what made your hips try to jump, what made you moan and whine. When he slipped two fingers into your pussy at the same time, you felt ready to lose it entirely. You were falling apart. Splitting at the seams. You came with a harsh cry, Weeping at the fizzling heat of pleasure. 

Suguru didn’t stop. He just hummed and flattened his tongue and kept going, forcing you right past that sickening few seconds of sensory rejection and towards another orgasm. You could do it. You focused on that because even if you weren’t entirely sure you wanted more, you wanted to be good for him. How ungrateful would it be to not come when he was kind enough to eat you out? 

Covered in the sickly shine of sweat and shaking so uncontrollably that it felt like the world itself was trembling, you came again.  

When he was content you were done, Suguru stopped, pulling his fingers out with a final brush against your g-spot to make you whine, your body mindlessly writhing. He sat up, brushing back strands of sweaty black hair with the back of his hand. 

You wilted in place, closing your eyes to focus on your breathing while he messed with something else. It was hard to collect yourself, but you could already tell that you would be sore tomorrow. 

Hearing the shift of fabric, you opened your eyes to see Suguru remove his boxers. Despite your messily deteriorated state, the sight of his cock roused enough of your mind to focus. He was hard, the red-flushed head bobbed as he casually stroked himself which might have been for your benefit. Despite the sensory overload, your pussy tightened in anticipation of feeling him inside of you. If he fucked you and you did good enough to make him come, then you would be done. That was, at the very least, an end goal. One more thing you could endure for him, and then he would forgive you. 

Suguru looked down at you with a fond smile, an expression that seemed more than a little cruel when he was stroking his dick, when he knew fully well that you were painfully oversensitive and this would make it that much worse. 

“Should I make you beg?” he asked warmly, tapping the head against your painfully sensitive folds. You whimpered, squirming. You weren’t entirely sure you wanted this, and he probably knew that, but maybe that was the point. It didn’t matter, you wanted him, you wanted to be good for him, and that superseded every other thing you felt. 

“Please, Geto-sama,” you begged, defaulting to the formal address because you needed him to accept it, because he was your lord and master in every way except by name, because you adored him and worshiped him, and you needed him to understand that. “Fuck me, please. I’m yours.”

“So vulgar,” he said, sliding his cock up and down through the wet, sloppy mess he’d made of your pussy. “I wonder what happened to the sweet, innocent girl you used to be.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head. “Please.”

“I’m kidding,” Suguru told you, bracing one hand on your thigh to force your hips to curl while lining up his cock. “Aren’t you going to beg?”

“Please-”

“No, no. Look at me.”

You forced your eyes open, forced yourself to look up at him through tear-covered lashes. “Please, Geto-sama. Please, I’m yours.” 

It was nothing for him to push in. You were wet and eager and it felt good. The feeling of his cock popping past the initial barrier of muscle and driving deeper into your pussy was one of the most uniquely pleasurable sensations you had ever felt, no matter what the context. It gave you the sort of fullness nothing could replicate, physically grounded you in a way nothing else ever had. 

Since you were watching, you got to see his expression slacken into one of pleasure. Your pussy fluttered and squeezed, just making room for him. 

You gave up keeping your eyes open as he drove himself even deeper, throwing your head back to just take it, to ignore the discomfort of his cock grinding against what felt like raw nerves. Suguru braced his hands on your thighs as he rocked his hips, taking his time. 

“What does it feel like?” he asked. 

“Good,” you said quickly, your tongue feeling loose like you were drunk. “So… So good.” 

“I want to feel you come again,” he said. “You don’t mind, right?” 

Your eyes fluttered open in confusion, shutting when he suddenly snapped his hips forward. “I can’t,” you whined. “Not again.”  

“You can,” Suguru told you, grinding his cock as far into as he could, pressing as deep as possible, deep enough to make you whimper and writhe. Could he feel that? Could he feel the way you were shaking all the way down to your bones, feel the way your heart raced and fluttered and skipped? 

And then you heard it turn on. When you heard the buzzing, your brain was wildly scattered enough that you thought it was an electric toothbrush which made no sense whatsoever. When he pressed the vibrator directly to your clit, you yelped, trying to buck it off but only serving to grind yourself into his cock. 

A few little circles with the thing against your clit was all it took for you to choke, your body seizing up with another orgasm. You were acutely aware of the way it caused your cunt to squeeze and suck his cock, coating it in a fresh wave of arousal as he pulled out, making a horrible wet slap when he thrust back in. 

Suguru groaned, keeping the vibrator directly on your clit as he chose a slow, steady pace. 

“I can’t,” you tried to tell him, squirming and writhing with renewed vigor as your body started to tense up to come again. You couldn’t stop it and of course it felt good but it was too much, almost burning. You could handle it. If you came again it would hurt, especially coming with his cock grinding so persistently into your overly sensitive cunt. 

“I thought you were being good,” Suguru said, rewarding you with a heavy, harsh thrust that made you wail. And another. That sent you over the edge, whimpering and shaking and incoherent with the overwhelming influx of heat and tingling overstimulation. Like the brittle snap when breaking a glow stick, or taking a crisp, juicy bite of an apple. It should have been good, but all you could feel was the wet, helpless violation of something ruined. 

Suguru moaned openly, driving himself deep enough for his hips to slap your ass with each heavy thrust. Your head whipped from side to side, the only form of protest left to you. He kept moving the vibrator to make sure you didn’t get too accustomed to any one type of stimulation. It was torture. Horrible torture. You wouldn’t have thought coming could be so agonizing, and yet when you drew up for another sharp, shuddery orgasm you couldn’t recognize it as anything else. 

“Is this better or worse than before?” Suguru asked, his words stuttered with each hard thrust. 

“I don’t… I can’t…” You couldn’t think. You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t do anything except convulse and cry and come. Again. 

You didn’t understand. 

“You don’t know?” he asked, breathy yet amused. “You’ll have to—to tell me later.” 

The problem was that you had no place to think. You were too full. Suguru continued fucking you hard and steady. All you could hear was the slick slapping of wet skin and that infernal buzzing. There was so much weight behind every movement, like he was trying to batter his way into your womb. Each thrust was followed by a whimper or moan or cry. And the relentless vibrator against your clit. It hurt. It burned. 

“I don’t… don’t…” 

“You’re… not done,” Suguru told you, his voice heavy and breaking with exertion. “Come again.” 

You weren’t sure if you were actually crying anymore, or just sobbing and panting and so sweaty it felt like you were crying. You couldn't form any coherent words, or even incoherent rejections. So you obeyed, the taste of blood on your tongue and stars dotting your vision, your pussy burning and inner walls pulsing around his cock as you came again. Suguru groaned, his lovely lips parted and eyes closed. 

“One more,” he demanded. “Just… Just one… More.” That word was punctuated with a hard thrust and an especially cruel grind of the vibrator against your overstimulated clit. There was no point in saying no, or even believing it wasn’t possible. He knew more than you did. You didn’t know anything. 

With a miserable whine, you came again, although at this point it felt like there was just a long, helpless flow of overstimulation marked with waves of overbearing heat, and then your pussy tightened around his cock and it dragged cruelly against your g-spot, and that was all you could manage before you were tossed back into the mindless daze of agonizing excess.

“Even though it hurts, you’re…” He didn’t finish that breathless thought, although his amused smile went away when his hips suddenly stuttered and he fell forward, his forearm resting by your shoulder. 

Mercifully, Suguru shut the vibrator off, letting it fall somewhere to the side, bracing his other arm on the bed next to you as he sought his own end. Your arms and legs fell to the side, slack except for when your muscles spasmed or jerked. Every thrust added to the relentless cycle of too much, especially from this angle, you could feel the way your body worked itself up to come again, responding to his pleasure as if it were your own. 

“Geto-sama… Suguru please,” you begged and there was a chance he couldn’t make out that you were attempting to form actual words, but even with your sanity fraying at the edges from his torture, you wanted him to come. You wanted to know there was a reason for your complete unraveling, that you had a real, good purpose, some sort of justification to exist. 

Suguru forced your knees all the way up to your chest, pushing his cock as deep as possible as he came, working himself through it with shallow thrusts and these intoxicatingly sexy stuttered moans. Distantly, beyond the hellish, sweaty shell of your shaking body, you had the distinct thought that everything was worth it just to hear him moan like that. Just to be rewarded by his pleasure. Because you loved him. Because you belonged to him. Both of you were flushed hot and disturbingly slick with sweat and it hurt for him to be pushing so deep. Out of all the little cruelties he had subjected you to, the fact that you were unable to hold onto him like you wanted was one of the worst. 

When Suguru pulled out, that hurt too. Every part of your body hurt. He left you to fall bonelessly limp onto the bed, rolling around to lay next to you. 

In the relative quiet, your ears rang with a tinny discordance, paired with the engine roar of rushing blood. Your tongue was sandpaper in your mouth—little wonder, you had no idea how you had any liquid left in your body—and your limbs hurt from being stuck in the bound position for so long, but you couldn’t say you wanted to do anything to fix those things. As soon as the severity of those discomforts occurred to you, so were they carried away by the lapping tide of exhaustion. You felt like a sponge that had been squeezed dry. That’s probably what you looked like too.   

“I didn’t expect it to be so… Difficult to contain myself,” Suguru mused softly. You didn’t respond, marveling at his voice. It was very nice. So soothing and smooth. Perfect, just like every other part of him. “It’s wrong, but necessary. You never learned the right way to live, I have to guide you. Otherwise you could hurt yourself. You could hurt our family.” There was more conviction in those words, like he was trying to argue against a point you hadn’t made. 

Even if you were to be unbound, you wouldn’t dare close your legs. You couldn’t feel his cum slipping out, maybe you were too swollen. That would explain the painful heat. 

“I wish I didn’t have to make my point like this,” Suguru continued. “But I'll do whatever it takes for you to get it.” 

Mute confusion was the only thing you had left—you were barely aware enough to listen to what he was saying, let alone divine any meaning from the words. Your body hurt and you were thirsty and sweaty and tired. You didn’t think anything. You couldn’t do anything. You couldn’t say anything. It wasn’t even confusion, it was just pure exhaustion. 

“Ah, you’re a mess,” Suguru said, sitting up. You groaned in disapproval when he started messing with the straps around your thighs, taking them off. Without the harness's support, your legs dropped limp onto the bed. Still, you didn’t move. You couldn’t fathom moving. “Hey,” he chided, “don’t go to sleep.”

You grunted unhappily. 

“Will you open your eyes?” Suguru asked, touching your fever-hot cheek. After a second, you did, meeting his gaze with your own dazed, blank stare. His expression was tender, you thought. So kind, so sweet, so gentle. “I need you to listen to me now, hm?” 

You made a sound to show that you were listening, looking up at his beautiful face with a marveling sort of adoration. Suguru really was beautiful. It was little wonder so many people thought he was a holy man. He undid the chains keeping your hands and ankles connected, letting your arms flop lifelessly into the sweaty sheets.

“I forgive you,” Suguru told you, his eyes scanning your body slowly, taking in the sweat and the reddish flush and the twitching, trembling of your muscles with some kind of affection. “But, and I need you to remember this,” he continued, his eyes returned to yours, “next time you disobey me, it will be worse.”

Worse? You couldn’t imagine worse. The idea of worse made your eyes sting, panic threatening to crawl back out of the abyss of your exhaustion to send you into a fit of tears.

You blinked and swallowed against your dry throat. “I’ll be… be good, I promise,” you said in a voice that was little more than a hoarse croak. 

“Shhh,” Suguru shushed softly, brushing your damp hair off of your sweaty forehead. “Don’t be scared. Everything I do, I do because I love you. You are precious to me, you know that, don’t you?”

Those words worked like ether sweet anesthesia through your head and you believed him, loved him, trusted him. He did this because he loved you, and because you needed to learn. Of course. That made sense even if nothing else did. 

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x Seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

naughty naughty Lucifer

Lucifer thinking about you riding his dick and face

A little bit NSFW mentioned

Snake in Paradise

Chapter 2 < Chapter 3 > Chapter 4

Your mind screamed at you to leave but you couldn’t move. Your whole body was shivering but didn’t even move an inch.

Lucifer could feel how you started to feel uncomfortable. 

Ache

He wasn’t going to point it out, but his heart started to ache every second more and harder. 

For you everything made sense. The puzzles starts to fit in.

How you feel comfortable around him, how his divine smell that made you weak and crumble to your knees. 

How his touch excites you and makes you feel like a fool in love. 

He probably doesn’t know that you are his Soulmate. But when this is true, then what is the deal with Lilith? 

Where is she anyways? Isn’t she supposed to be on his side, ruling hell together. Why is he all Alone?

The question is easy to answer but you can’t Imagine that she’d just leave him. How can she not want him? Did She cheat on him, and they got a divorce? Or did he do something unforgivable.

Either way you wouldn't let him go.

Lucifer couldn’t take it anymore. This ache.

You were deep in thoughts with a sad expression on your face. which only fueled this ache more.

Ache

his heart ached as he looked at you. He can’t look away, but he wants to. Not wanting to see you in this kind of state.

With a heavy deep breath, he started talking. “Is everything alright?”

Snapping out of your thoughts your gaze shifted from his mark towards his face. Worried laced his pearl white face. 

“Yeah, yeah… of course. Everything’s alright.” 

That was the worst lie ever. 

Lucifer smiled a bit, “You know, it’s okay to feel what you feel. It’s one hundred percent valid. God Y/n, you fell from heaven a couple days ago. Just sit down, relax, and let me take care for you.” He wants that you to have a good time in hell after you recover. 

Cute, 

That’s what’s running through your mind. Forgetting your worries about the soulmate mark.

Maybe this isn’t all bad.

But one Question was buzzing in your head like a mosquito mid summer. 

Where is Lilith and why isn’t she here?

And why does it bother you so much?

…

Sera was in a heating discussing. 

The tension was so thick that you couldn’t even cut it with a knife.

Michael's angry gaze didn’t help at all.

“Michael I can explain- I.“ Sera stopped mid-sentence not knowing how and where to start. 

Azrael raised his hand, not wanting to hear Sera’s useless apologize. 

“You know Sera, you’re in deep shit.” Azrael shifted his paper in his hand to look on this case. 

“You didn’t Informed us about the extermination, nor asked for permission. Never thought you wanted to play God, Sera.” Gabriel looked at Sera with zero Emotions.

But his Voice let everyone fall for him. His smooth voice is alluring. 

And He knows it.

And he uses it.

Letting everyone fell in this trap of comfort, to trust him with everything.

And then he will use it against you.

Just like he did with his brother.

“It was something what I had to do. They were uprising I-.” Michael let out a loud hmpf, showing Sera that he’s not pleased at all. His head rested on his fist, looking down at Sera.

“Uprising? You’ve got to be kidding me. Sera look, I don’t have time for your bullshit. You want to end up like Lucifer?” the weight of this topic only filled the tension even more than before. 

“Or like your own daughter?” Azrael added for her demise. He raised a brow, now finally taking a look at the Seraphim Infront of him.

She felt Embarrassed and bare as if she’s naked.

Laid for them ready on a golden plate for them to be devour. 

But the moment they involved you in it, she has to say something.

“Leave my daughter out of this!”

“Wasn’t it your idea to decent her from heaven?” Michael showed the document with your case that led you to fall from heaven into hell, “You’re quite a terrible mother you know.” Michael threw the document infront of Sera and Gabriel glared at Michael for his childish behavior.

“I Apologize for my brothers behavior, but he does speak the truth. Your daughter didn’t deserve That punishment you gave her.” Gabriel looked on your Information Paper. 

“Seems that you couldn’t tolerate that she was against you.” Azrael sighed, disappointed in Sera. “You got a pretty daughter, you know.”

Sweat dripped down Sera’s forehead, everything but you. Even after all she's done to you, she still loves you dearly.

“You know father said that she should come back to heaven, and you’ll be thrown into hell Instead. Prove us that you’re still worth residing in heaven.” Gabriel announced, stopping his brother with their blabbering about some fallen Seraphim.

...

In the end of the meeting, they discussed that they give Sera one last chance and get you back somehow. 

But the "how" was the unsolved question. And no one has the answer for it. 

But for the worst part. Michael seemed very interested in you.

…Time Skip…

Lucifer paced nervous Infront of your room. 

He finally told Charlie that he had found a fallen angel in the front yard of his Home. 

Since then, you got your own room to live in.

Charlie pressured her father that she wants to see you and show you around. 

But knowing how difficult it could be for you, he was nervous. Will you hate him after this? No, right?

He laughed nervously and grabbed his hair lightly. 

“Hey Y/n. I know you just fell from heaven, but do you want to meet my daughter!... No that’s not good. Fuck, ehm…” gipping his hair tighter he paced quicker from side to side on the carpet on the floor.

“Luci?” The door creaked open revealing you in your cute, oversized nighty he bought you not long ago.

His heart melted at his new given nickname. 

You two kind of grew close these last days. 

“What are you doing here this early?” Lucifer's shoulder was now all tense again. Right, he’s not here to eat breakfast with you. 

“Hello dearest. I want you to meet the other guest and employees around this place! Get you socialized” He laughed nervously, the look on your face already gave him the answer. 

You slammed the door into his face. That was unexpected.

“Okay rude?” Lucifer knew you wouldn’t like the idea of going out but slamming the door into his face. It irked him. 

'Fuck' he thought.

Standing Infront of your door kind of dumb folded.

Inside your room you were running around and looking for a decent good-looking outfit. 

Squealing like a teenager.

In these last days you were living in hell you began to love this place.

Even though you rarely go out. You still feel uncomfortable in the new area, but it was better than heaven. 

Way better.

Very Brutal sometimes but you could live free and in peace.

You can watch Tv and eat Ice cream, not doing anything like annoying paperwork all day. 

You rarely watch Tv though because Lucifer hates Tv. Saying it makes people dumb, maybe it’s true but where’s the fun in that. 

Finally finding a nice dress, heels and to top it all: over knees! To make it all cute. Smiling at your outfit you nod, and you were ready to go.

You re-opened the door where Lucifer was standing in all his mighty, looking perplexed at your now opened door. 

Lucifer was about to leave but in the exact moment you opened the door revealing you in a very very pretty dress.

Lucifer already can’t get enough. 

The dress hugged your body perfectly showing your juicy curves that makes him weak and drool on spot. 

His cheeks warmed up and he felt his blood going from his head towards his pants.  

Oh god have mercy with him.

Coughing in his clawed hand he tried to hide his upcoming arousal. 

‘Now is not the perfect timing Lucifer.’ 

He regained his posture and smiled at you, “You look Amazing, eh- I meant pretty haha, the dress fits you.” He awkwardly laughed hoping that you didn’t catch up with whatever that was. 

Fucking Simp.

“Thank you, this dress is indeed very pretty.” You looked at your dress and spun a bit letting the dress move swiftly and smooth around your body. 

God, you should stop. 

He already has to take a cold shower. 

He turned rather fast away from you.

It hurt somehow, wasn’t it attractive enough to him? 

The one thing you didn’t know is that he was aroused and all what he wanted is to just claim you right here in your room. 

He gestures you to follow him and you let out a frustrated huff. 

Following him through the red, white halls down to the main opening.  

There was a tall spider like creature standing there and beside him was a tall girl with red circle on her cheeks.

Charlie! 

You remember her. 

And the aftermath that happened after that meeting.

The memories and flashbacks were harsh, water started well in your eyes. 

The scar on your back started to sting, you touched it and massaged it with hope that it would help with the shadow pain.

Looking around for lucifer for support you couldn’t find him.

Lucifer was gone for a couple of seconds to deal with that little problem you caused. 

He felt kind of disgusted by himself. 

You were so Innocent and sweet and here he was taking a quick cold shower to calm his aroused bulge that grew in his pants. 

In the last days he was whipped with you in no time. 

Such kind of euphoric he hasn’t felt before, not even from his ex-wife Lilith. 

He wanted to drown in this new warm feeling.

Every time he spent time with you, he felt like the happiest man Alife. 

He was sure that in his demonic form his tail would wag in happiness like a dog. 

He switched off the shower the cold.

When this happens again he won’t survive this.

You were just too pretty, Innocent, and sexy. 

He can’t wait to see you milk and cream on his dick. 

Hearing you cry out of pleasure while he sucks your pretty pussy dry.

You gripping his horns out of overstimulation and riding his face and dick just to get that high again.

He whines at that thought.

Throwing cold water into his face to get those Images out of his head, “you’re such a pervert.”

Ache

He knew something was wrong. This ache always came when you weren’t okay.

Teleporting himself beside you, he saw you in a panic like state. Alarming him.

“Y/n, did something happen?”

His sudden presence scared you. You let out a small scream alarming everyone in the main hall. 

You apologized and glared at Lucifer for scaring you so badly. “We don’t have to-“ do this Today

A loud gasp interrupted Lucifer. Charlie’s eyes were literally sparkling when she saw you. “OMG, You’re the Angel that my father found?!” 

She ran to you and gave you a crushing hug. 

Lucifer and Vaggie looked at the scene that was unfolding. 

Angel dust was eating ice cream and ignored Charlie’s shouting, he was used to it. 

Lucifer admit that he felt a sting on his mark, weird. Vaggie’s eye was twitching out of annoyance she didn’t like how close they were.

Letting you go Charlie’s smile was so bright you swear you could get blind because of it. 

“I’m so excited to show you around!” She was still holding you tight when she was pulling you around.

“Charlie.” Her father’s serious voice made her stop. She looked at him in surprise of his sudden shift of mood. “Be gentle with her, she’s still new here.” Charlie’s grip loosened and she nods at her father. 

She continued to show you around and introduced everyone to you. She was so similar like her father, and it was so sweet.

You could get used to this; this was way better than your life in heaven.

…

Back in the main hall. You sat down on the couch watching Alastor and Lucifer get into a fight. 

Angel dust and Husk were talking, and Nifty tried to kill the bugs in the area.

Charlie and Vaggie started to prepare an exercise, so you didn’t saw them near by.

But all the comforting living atmosphere was short lived. 

A loud Bang followed with a broken wall and dust all over the place. 

You coughed as you breathed in the dust that filled the whole room. Lucifer’s wings appeared on his back and he blew the dust away from the two of you. 

Since when was he Infront of you?

“This fucking wall is cursed I tell y’all.” Vaggie nods at Angel Dust sudden outburst. Something was definitely wrong with that wall.

Meanwhile Lucifer growled softly at the danger. He already knows who it was. Someone he hoped he wouldn’t see anymore in his lifetime. 

“What are you doing here, Michael?” He growled. His demonic form scratching in the back of his head, wanting to protect his mate from this Man. 

“Can’t an older brother visit his younger Brother?”

A/n: I want to thank you all who Liked, repost and commented on this story❤️ Thank you so so sooooo muuchhh<3333

Thank you to the new follows❤️ This is all so crazy😭✋🏽

Like OMFG LOVE YOU POOKIES❤️❤️ Can't wait to give you more of this story and even beyond<3

⭐💫

@ayanazoldyck

[toruro]

— ✧ trust (fall)

pairing: kim mingyu x reader

description. your boyfriend insists he's strong enough to carry you and fuck you at the same time, but you have your doubts. of course, mingyu is more than ready to try and prove you wrong.

tags. smut (18+), mingyu's mean for maybe a second, dirty talk, messy sex :p, UNEDITED!

w/c. 1.5k

a/n. this request just itches a part of my brain in the best way possible and it's been driving me crazy help

"mingyu, i don't think we can—"

"baby," he whines, digging his fingers into your hips. "c'mon, i can do it." his hard is pressing into your pelvis and mingyu already fingered you in the car, forcing you to sit still in your own wetness afterwards and be a patient little good girl while he drives you both home. you're unbearably needy now and aching to be fucked, but there's a small twinge of worry that seeps through you when mingyu pushes you against the wall.

you frown, looking up at him. "what if i fall?" you reason, and mingyu sighs, putting an arm up against the wall next to your head, putting his bare, large arm on display. your stomach churns at the implication, and you can't help but stare at the muscles of his bicep.

"don't you trust me?" mingyu reasons, and when he looks at you with those puppy eyes, you know you can't resist.

“mingyu…” your voice trails off and you give him a look. your boyfriend pouts and leans back, bringing up his arm and flexing it in front of you with a smirk. his muscles shift and are ever so prominent, the view sending shivers down your spine.

“baby,” he says again, a smug smile adorning his lips when watching the way lust overtakes your face. “trust me,” mingyu tells you, reaching down to grip one of your thighs to bring it up, hooking your leg around his torso.

there’s a twinge of worry in your mind, but all that is pushed away as you focus on the growing wet spot that stains your panties beneath you. “o-okay,” you murmur in agreement, wrapping your arms around mingyu’s neck and bringing your standing foot to your tippy toes. “but if you drop me, i’m not having sex with you for a month,” you warn into his neck, pressing a loving kiss into the skin afterwards.

mingyu chuckles, pressing you harder into the wall and pushing his pants and boxers down in one you. “don’t worry baby,” he reassures, allowing you to bring your other leg up around his waist, ankles crossing behind him, “plus, i know you wouldn’t be able to hold out that long anyways.”

you gasp quietly when his strong, large hands grapple at your thighs, one hand pushing your panties to the side to expose your wet folds to the cool air. your face is still buried into mingyu’s neck, a little too scared to put any distance between you and him.

your about to say something along the lines of telling mingyu to speed it up, but then you feel the familiar sensation of his warm, thick cock brushing through your folds and that shuts you up real tight. digging your face into the crook under his jaw further, you press your chest close to mingyu’s.

“ready baby?” he asks cautiously as he aligns himself with your entrance.

“yeah, ‘m ready gyu,” you confirm, squeezing your eyes tight when he sinks the tip in. mingyu’s big, he knows it. even after he’s prepped you with one, two, and sometimes even three orgasms, fitting him in at first always seems to be a struggle. mingyu doesn’t mind though, of course—he’s patient with you forever and always. after all, how bad can it be if he gets to be inside your pussy longer, basking in the way you let out soft moans and squeaks as you grow to adjust to him.

when you’re finally giving the green light—“you can move gyu”—he doesn’t hesitate to push upwards and hit deeper inside of you. he’s hardly done anything, honestly, and the action already has your eyes rolling to the back of your head.

your back is pressed against the wall so hard you almost think you might complain about the dull ache, but then mingyu is pulling back and thrusting back into you, filling you ‘til the hilt and punching out moans.

you feel as if the air is being forced out of your lungs with every thrust, your body throttling against mingyu’s as you grip on to his biceps and back to steady yourself. it isn’t so much about concern for your own safety anymore, no, now it’s about making sure you ground yourself and don’t go crazy from the way he’s fucking into you.

“look,” mingyu growls, and the sound is so animalistic and you’re so fucked out you’re are his mercy, pulling your head back against the wall so you can direct your gaze to the sloppy, wet mess beneath you. “look at the fucking mess you’ve made. acting all scared and—fuck—“ he grunts with one especially deep thrust that has your nails clawing at his back, “—and nervous but i bet you wanted this, huh? wanted me to fuck you into this wall so hard you won’t be able to think about anything else.”

your vision begins to go hazy the more you watch his cock disappear inside of you every time he snaps his hips upwards, your body jerking with every movement. your wetness is coating his cock, your own drool dribbling down and adding to the mess which is slowing dripping down onto the floor. there’s a filthy puddle that’s forming beneath the two of you, but you can’t even think about how embarrassing this will be the next morning to try and clean it up.

the back of your head is lightly hitting the wall, and you aren’t sure if it’s the impact or the sheer force of mingyu inside your cunt that has your mind going blank as you babble, “yes, mingyu, yes—fuck—feel so good gyu, you make me feel so-so-so good.”

“my pretty baby finally believes me?” mingyu breaths out between groans as his thrusts become more sloppy and rougher as you both begin to approach your ends.

“yes!” you cry out, pressing your forehead to mingyu’s not taking your eyes off his cock buried inside your cunt. “so god, gyu, ‘m gonna cum. can i cum, please? gyu, i promise i’ll be good forever, please can i cum?” you beg, face so hot and so in proximity to mingyu’s that you can see his eyes darken right in front of you.

“fucking cum for me, cum on me baby. make a fucking mess,” mingyu demands, pounding into you harder at the confirmation that you’re about to be thrown off the edge. your walls are on fire, hot around him and clenching as if your life depended on him and his cock and honestly, in this moment that is quite the truth.

you cry out his name, biting down on your bottom lip to muffle the strangled moans that threaten to escape as you shake with pleasure. the sensation of your orgasm, heightened with mingyu’s relentless cock, has your vision blurring with tears as he grips your thighs harder.

he’s fucking into you impossibly fast now, and you can’t even fathom how he has it in him after holding you up for so long. as the overstimulation starts to catch up to you as mingyu begins to chase his own high, all you can do is lay limp in his arms, legs weakly shaking around his torso as you struggle to keep your grip.

“hold on for me baby,” mingyu instructs as you feel his cock twitch inside of you, “hold on to me for just—fuck—just a second.” all you can manage out is a few meek moans and squeaks as his hips snap upwards once or twice more before he stills and then there’s that familiar feeling of hot quite liquid shooting deep into your cunt, marking your walls white, claiming you as his.

mingyu lazily rolls his hips a few last times, riding out the trail of his orgasm before you both have time to finally settle in the sound of your heavy pants, admiring the sheen layer of sweat that coats his skin.

looking up at you with sparkling brown eyes, mingyu finally breaks out a grin and that’s when you feel yourself finally being pulled into reality. “are you okay baby?” he asks worriedly, “i didn’t go too hard, did i?”

“no,” you murmur, shaking your head as you unwind your legs and let mingyu slip out of you. the feeling of being empty has you going queasy and as soon as your feet hit the ground, your knees wobble and you stumble forward into mingyu’s arm. his eyes narrow at you, giving you a look.

“are you sure? are you hurt?”

“no, mingyu, you just happen to be as strong as you claim,” you admit with a roll of your eyes. mingyu’s eyes light up as the words sink in, and he swoops down to press a kiss on your cheek.

“really baby? glad you agree—we should do this more often.” you laugh and steady yourself on your legs once more, still gripping onto his hand for support.

“maybe…or maybe we can try new places to see how versatile your strength is…”

“baby, you can’t say that shit,” mingyu warns. “next thing you know and i’ll carry you and fuck you without the wall.”

you laugh right now, but there’s a little bit of excitement pooling at your stomach, and if there’s one thing that you know, it’s that mingyu always sticks to his word.

[lcriedlastnight]

Can you write something with Oscar where they hated each other during their childhood or teenage years, but they meet again during adulthood

hey anon! thank you so much for your request!

tw: fem!reader. swears, i feel it feels a little rushed but idk. not spell checked. lmk if you want me to add anything.

w/c: 1.9k

you and logan were the ‘duo’ during karting, f2 and f3. where ever you went, logan followed and vice versa. you both understanding each other on a different level than the others around you, just simply didn’t . others around you including: oscar piastri.

you knew fine well that oscar and logan got along well. at one point logan even told you that he thought of oscar as his best friend in racing. knowing all of this should’ve made you like him, but it didn’t. you didn’t know if it was the way he walked around the karting course, when you were children, like he owned the place or if it was the little niggle in the back of your mind that acknowledged how good of a racer he actually was and that just pissed you off even more, you didn’t know. all you knew is that he needed to be brought down a peg or two and you would happily be to one to do it forever, much to logan’s chagrin.

logan really wanted the both of you to get along but you couldn’t help yourself, especially when you were younger, you had to tell him exactly what you thought about him, any and every time he pissed you off.

sometimes you did feel bad about hating on the aussie, like the times where a race didn’t really go his way, but as soon as you would go over to commiserate him he’d shout at you and tell you to get out of his way. you stopped feeling bad about it after that.

this rivalry continued all the way through to when both boys made it to f1. maybe it even deepened further. any time the two of you bump into each other, the only words said (if any) were snarky comments and backhanded compliments. mainly from your end.

none of this stopped you from supporting one of your oldest friends though, any time you were able to you would join him in the williams paddock, usually the first one to run to him when the race ended bad for him.

the most recent time you had joined logan for a race weekend was australia. you had watched along during the free practise but afterwards logan seemed to be avoiding you. you had looked everywhere for him, wanting to do your usual ‘after free practise’ routine of dissing the rest of the drivers (especially oscar) and telling logan that he was the best driver on the grid.

you make your way through the paddock searching for him and you eventually find him in the mclaren motorhome, standing with none other than oscar piastri. you roll your eyes and walk up to the two of them but they’re both too deep in their conversation that they don’t hear you coming.

“you have to tell her, mate” oscar tells logan, brows furrowed. logan’s back is to you so you can’t see his reaction, but you do hear it.

“she’ll be crushed!” it comes out a breathy and high pitched.

“obviously she’ll be crushed but do you not think it’s better for her to hear it from you” oscar replies, his eyes gentle. it pisses you off. him saying all this as if he knows you and how you would feel about certain things. you decide to make your presence known.

“i think i trust logan’s opinion on whatever you two are talking about more than yours, piastri.” your voice is a little mean but there are hints of confusion and concern for logan.

logan spins in his spot to face you. his eyes are wide and his brows sit high on his forehead. “oh uh hi! we were just talking about… racing stuff?” logan’s mouth moves faster than you’ve ever seen before.

“racing stuff?” you repeat back, “are you asking me or telling me?”. it’s a half joke, half serious question. i give him a half smile but logan stands there, a little awkwardly.

i wait for a second before my smile falls again. “okay what? what is it?” you asked a little worried now. oscar stands behind him but you forget about him, getting worried about logan now.

“logan you better tell me right now or-” you start but he cuts you off.

“i’m not racing this weekend. alex’s crash fucked up his car and they’re giving mines to him for the rest of the weekend.” logan avoids your eyes, instead choosing to stare at the floor.

it takes a while for you to calm down afterwards. logan takes you somewhere more private than the mclaren motorhome where you let out your anger.

“why weren’t you going to tell me?” you ask him after you had calmed down.

“i didn’t want this to happen. i only really did it because oscar told me i should.” logan explained.

you sigh out. “well you can always tell me anything. we’ve been friends forever, logan. and i guess that was kinda nice of oscar to do that.” logan’s grin is too wide, it’s like he ignored the first part and just focused on the only nice thing you have ever said about oscar.

you roll your eyes and change the subject. “okay well i guess there’s no point in staying to watch the rest of the weekend.” logan gasps.

“well since you don’t want to stay with me, there might be a certain someone who asked for you to stay and watch.” his eyebrows wiggle teasingly. it annoys you to no end. you let him know by the long groan you let out.

that’s how you ended up watching qualifying from the mclaren garage. you were surprised oscar actually let you stay and watch in his garage, but all it took was a mere seconds conversation with logan and you were in.

although the previous qualifying had been a bit of a better result for the aussie he still practically skipped into the garage. the joys of doing well in the first part of your home race, you suspect.

“oh hey! i didn’t think you were actually gonna stay. i thought you and oscar hated each other?” lando asks after noticing you, kind of just standing there. you couldn’t be more thankful for his presence at that moment, feeling a little out of place in the papaya filled garage.

you give him a tight smile. “where did you get that from? we’re best friends.” your tone dripping with sarcasm. lando smirks with a half chuckle at your tone. before you could talk more, oscar comes up behind you.

“i knew i could get you to admit it one day.” he says to you. you can hear the happiness in his tone. this is the first time oscar has said something and it hasn’t made you want to rip his vocal cords from his throat.

“ha ha. aren’t you funny?”. lando rolls his eyes at your response before he stirs the pot.

“well i’ll leave you two to it. there’s too much tension here and it’s making the room a little stuffy.” he bounces out the garage, eager to catch up with his engineers.

you don’t know why but lando’s comment made the heat rush to your face. you hope oscar doesn’t notice. he probably does though. you are stuck on what to say and you don’t like just standing there staring at him because the more you look at him the more you like what you see, so you scramble your brain for something to say.

“thanks for telling logan to tell me about not driving this weekend.” is all you can come up with.

you can feel oscar’s confusion. “you’re welcome? is this your way of repaying me? by watching quali in my garage?” he asks. half joking.

“what no?” oscar laughs at your defensive tone.

“why are you here then?” he questions you. this then confuses you.

“logan said you wanted me to stay and watch?”.

oscar’s head dips down, eyes avoiding yours and hints of what you think is a faint blush on his cheeks.

“you didn’t want me to stay and watch?” you ask, feeling a little bold with your questions.

oscar is quick to correct you. “no i did. i said that to logan.”

“why did you even want me to stay? i thought you hated me?” you ask again, not getting tired of asking him all these questions. plus the blush made him look cute. cute for an ugly guy, you correct your own thoughts. the words that free you from spiralling confuse you more.

“i don’t hate you.”

what? he most certainly did hate you. you had year upon years of proof. possibly maybe even a decade worth of mean comments and dirty looks. what was he talking about?

your mouth opens and closes a few times as you try to find your words. “you.. you don’t hate me?”

oscar’s head is quick to shake.

“but what about all those times we argued? and all those horrible things you said to me?” you remind him. oscar acting like none of that ever happened was baffling you.

“don’t you remember how every single one of those arguments started?” he asks. it’s your turn to shake your head.

“i would always come over after races to talk to logan and of course you were there. i would go to ask logan about the race and you would interrupt me by saying something about ‘there being no need to rub my talent in his face’ or if logan had done better than me you would always say ‘he doesn’t talk to people who only want him when he’s a winner’. even if all i wanted was to let my frustrations out with my friend. you were mean too.” you’re stunned to silence.

you didn’t think anything you said to oscar was that mean. or even worth remembering. it wasn’t in your case, that’s how you can’t even remember saying any of it.

“oh” is all you can say.

“yeah, oh. even though you were horrible i still wanted to talk to you.” oscar admits, head held high, even though can see the way the confidence on his eyes falters a little.

you feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you at your actions. how could you ever hate someone who, even though they were being treated like shit, wanted to be friends to support their other friend?

“i’m sorry. that was so horrible of me. i honestly don’t know what else to say. i’m horrible.” you tell him. you wear your regret all over your face, clearly visible to oscar.

“you’re not.” oscar takes a step forward and hesitates for a second before he places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “you were just trying to protect you’re friend. you’re a good person. the only reason i wanted to keep talking to you was because i wanted you to defend me like that.”

the realisation hits you, you’re face softening even more. oscar liked you. maybe even still likes you.

“oh.”

oscar smiles a little. he’s spent years hearing every little detail about you from logan he feels like he knows you just as well as the american does.

“i’ve got to do some media stuff but why don’t we grab dinner or something afterwards?” oscar offers, you nod instantly, eager to know the boy as well as logan does.

“okay, yeah that sounds good.” you smile at the boy for maybe the first time ever.

oscar smiles back.

you hated being wrong but you didn’t mind being wrong about how nice oscar was.

[sidekick-hero]

it isn’t over, it’s just begun

Written for @steddiesmuttyseptember (prompts: backseat | clothes on | soft and slow | bruise) and @softsteddieseptember (prompt: Road Trip). This is super late, I'm sorry.

The biggest thank you to @firefly-party for reading over this and helping me make sense of English grammar and tenses. UGH.

6k | rated: e | warnings: (consensual) blood drinking | tags: vampire!eddie, monsterfucker!steve, dry humping, Steve takes care of Eddie

Read on AO3

“I’m dead, Harrington, not deaf! Haven’t I been through enough? Do you have to torture me with… with this? Crappy music from an even crappier movie? And here I thought we were friends!”

Eddie’s voice grew louder as he ranted, his hands flapping dramatically, his wide brown eyes sparkling under the streetlamps they passed. For someone technically dead, he was so alive—full of energy and life in every way that mattered. Even with his too-sharp teeth, translucent skin, and the absence of a pulse, he was still, well, Eddie.

Not that Eddie agreed.

That’s why they were here now, on this strange road trip to Washington D.C. to meet some friend of Owens who supposedly had a solution for him. How, Steve wasn’t sure. And if he was being honest, he didn’t entirely trust this friend—or Owens, for that matter. They’d been screwed over too many times, and Steve wasn’t about to risk Eddie’s… non-life.

Eddie seemed on edge too, fidgeting and talking too fast, too loud, confined in the tight space of Steve’s trusty BMW.

“If the movie’s so crappy, how do you know Take My Breath Away is in it, huh?” Steve countered, smirking, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

As expected, the question left Eddie sputtering, before he huffed and crossed his arms, pouting.

Steve took pity and turned the volume down, but not before belting out the chorus at the top of his lungs. He couldn’t help but enjoy the way Eddie looked at him, his attention fixed solely on Steve. If he were being honest, that’s all he’d been craving lately—Eddie’s gaze, his words, his touch.

Steve was down bad.

They’d been driving for six hours, and Steve could feel the toll it was taking on him. He still wasn’t sleeping well—nightmares keeping him awake more often than not. The only thing that brought him any real comfort was when Eddie came back from his nightly hunts. It should’ve felt strange that the only time Steve truly felt safe from the horrors of the Upside Down was when the one "monster" they hadn’t killed or sent back to the alternate dimension was taking a shower in his en suite bathroom before crawling into bed with him.

Not that Steve thought of Eddie as a monster—just because he looked a little different and needed blood to survive didn’t make him one.

The only one who saw Eddie that way was Eddie himself. It had taken weeks to convince him to let them anywhere near him, constantly reassuring him that they knew he wouldn’t hurt them, that they loved him.

Eddie had only agreed to stop hiding in the woods if Steve was there, nail bat in hand, ready to strike at the first sign of danger.

That’s why Eddie was living with him now. And that’s why Steve was the one driving him to Washington to meet this friend of Owens.

“You don’t look so hot, Stevie.”

“Geez, tell me how you really feel, Munson,” Steve shot back, only slightly annoyed. Eddie sounded more worried than anything.

Eddie raised his hands in mock surrender, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Relax, you always look hot, big boy. But right now? You look beat. Wanna take a break?”

A break didn’t sound bad at all, Steve thought. Just to rest his eyes for a bit.

“Not your worst idea,” he conceded, much to Eddie’s delight.

Eddie’s voice turned theatrical as he declared, “I only have good ideas, I’ll have you know.”

Steve’s reply came without thinking. “Sacrificing yourself to the bats wasn’t.” The weight of his words hit him the moment the silence in the car became deafening—not even the sound of Eddie’s breathing, which was more habit than necessity, broke the tension.

Shit.

“Eddie, I’m sorry—”

“It’s fine,” Eddie cut him off, his voice flat, the humor gone. “There’s a path over there, leading off the road. Take it. We can park at the edge of the woods. You can rest, and I’ll... hunt.”

Eddie’s whole demeanor screamed for him to drop it. As much as Steve hated the tense silence hanging between them, he didn’t know what to say to make it better. He was sorry for how his words had come out, but the truth was, he’d meant them. Part of him knew it wasn’t fair—he hated what Eddie had done, but he also knew that, in Eddie’s place, he would’ve done the exact same thing. Saving Dustin, buying them time. Sacrificing himself because what was his life compared to theirs, compared to the world?

If Steve was being honest with himself, he’d admit that it wasn’t Eddie he was truly angry at—it was himself. He should have been there. He should’ve been smarter, faster. Better. But he wasn’t. He let them fend for themselves, and this was the result.

The car swayed as it rumbled down the gravel path, pulling him back from his spiraling thoughts. What happened, happened. There was no changing it now. The only thing they could do was deal with the aftermath.

Steve parked the car in a secluded spot, hidden from the road to give them some privacy. The second the car stopped, Eddie swung the door open and disappeared into the woods without a word. Steve sat there, staring after him, regret settling like a weight in his chest.

With a heavy sigh, Steve pushed open his door and went around to grab his nail bat and a blanket from the trunk. He crawled into the backseat, balling up his jacket as a makeshift pillow. The bat went under the driver’s seat, just in case, and he pulled the blanket over himself. It wasn’t exactly comfortable, and with the weight of guilt in his stomach and his mind racing, he doubted he’d be able to fall asleep.

But sleep had other plans. It claimed him within seconds, and as usual, Eddie was the last thing on his mind before darkness wrapped around him like a lover.

He came back to himself slowly, like wading through thick molasses, his senses gradually returning one by one. First, there was the awareness inside his body. He was thirsty. Hungry, too. A dull headache throbbed at his temples, and his neck ached from the awkward position he’d slept in. Everything pointed to him having slept far longer than he’d intended.

Next came his hearing—dulled ever since Billy Hargrove had taken a plate to his head, but still somewhat functional. He could make out the distant hoot of an owl and, if he concentrated, the faint sound of cars speeding by on the nearby road. Then there was something else—a rustling sound, faint and close by. He had to strain to hear it, and might’ve missed it if not for how near it was.

Steve kept his eyes closed, everything feeling too heavy and far away. But now, cautiously, he cracked them open just enough to survey his surroundings without alerting any potential threats.

The car was dark; the sun had set a while ago, from the looks of it. At first glance, it seemed like he was alone, and worry crept in about Eddie. But then the rustling sound came again, and this time his eyes landed on its source. Someone was sitting in the passenger seat, trembling violently.

“Eds?” Steve’s voice came out scratchy from sleep. He swallowed and tried again, softer this time. “Are you alright?”

The figure in the front seat—who Steve hoped was Eddie, though who else could it be—shook its head but remained silent. As Steve blinked the sleep from his eyes and they adjusted to the darkness, more details came into focus. Eddie was hunched over, knees pulled tightly to his chest, his feet up on the upholstery. Normally, Steve would’ve complained, but right now all that mattered was making sure Eddie was okay.

“Eddie, please, talk to me. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.”

He sat up and reached out to touch Eddie’s arm, but the moment his fingers grazed the fabric of Eddie’s jacket, Eddie recoiled, scrambling as far as the small space of the car would allow.

“Don’t,” Eddie rasped, his voice raw and jagged, almost unrecognizable.

Ignoring the warning, Steve inched closer, raising his hands in a calming gesture. “Eddie,” he repeated softly, using the name again because he remembered the first time they encountered this version of Eddie—feral, lost, barely recognizing them. Nancy had said to repeat his name often, to remind him of who he was. It became a habit Steve hadn’t been able to shake entirely.

“Whatever it is, you can tell me. Did something happen while you were hunting?” Steve’s stomach twisted at the thought. What if Eddie had hurt someone? Lost control to the instincts he barely understood? He should’ve been worried about whoever Eddie might’ve harmed—and he was, he was—but more than anything, he worried about what that guilt would do to Eddie. That it would push him to retreat, make him decide that he couldn’t be around people anymore. That he’d leave them.

Leave Steve.

At Steve’s question, Eddie finally looked up, and their eyes met. Steve’s heart lurched. Eddie's eyes were no longer the warm, familiar brown. They were red.

A whimper escaped Steve’s lips before he could stop it, and Eddie’s face—what little Steve could make out—twisted in what looked like pain. Steve realized, too late, that his involuntary reaction had struck at Eddie’s worst fear: that they saw him as the monster he believed himself to be.

“’M sorry, Eds,” Steve stammered, rushing to correct himself. “You just surprised me, that’s all. I’m not scared of you, I swear. I’m just worried for you. Let me help, please.”

With his back pressed against the glove compartment, cowering in the cramped footwell of the passenger seat, Eddie let out a dark, humorless laugh. “You have no idea what you’re asking, Steve. You should just take that trusty bat of yours and bash my head in. That’s the only way you can help.” His voice cracked, raw with desperation. “I… I don’t want to be a monster.”

“I’m not doing that, Eddie.” Steve’s voice was steady, even as his heart hammered in his chest. “You’re not a monster. You’re our friend.”

Eddie let out a bitter sigh, his hand fumbling for the car's overhead light. When it flicked on, Steve’s breath caught in his throat. Eddie looked more monstrous than ever—the sharpness of his teeth more pronounced, his skin drawn tight and pale, dark veins spidering beneath the surface. His red eyes glowed unnaturally in the dim light, and his trembling grew worse.

“I haven’t eaten in days,” Eddie confessed, his voice low and filled with shame. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t bring myself to kill any of the animals out there. And tonight, when I finally got desperate enough to try… there were hunters in the woods.” He clenched his jaw, as if disgusted with himself. “I couldn’t risk it, Steve. I had to retreat before I hurt them. Before I would have... lost control.”

Steve’s heart twisted at the sight of Eddie—so vulnerable, yet fighting desperately to stay in control. It hurt to see the raw fear in his friend’s eyes, especially when there seemed to be nothing that Steve could do to make it better. There had to be something. Anything.

Eddie’s refusal to feed explained why the monstrous side of him was becoming more pronounced, more visible. The hunger must be unbearable by now, gnawing at him from the inside out. Yet, Eddie—the stubborn idiot—was willing to suffer rather than hurt another living thing. How anyone could see a monster in someone so kind, so selfless, was beyond Steve. He knew without a doubt that Eddie would starve himself to death before ever harming anyone.

But maybe it didn’t have to come to that. Not if Steve had anything to say about it.

“Maybe…” Steve began, choosing his words carefully, “you don’t have to control it.” At Eddie’s incredulous look, he quickly added, “I mean, what if you let yourself have blood—from someone willing to give it to you? You wouldn’t have to hurt anyone if it was, you know, consensual.”

Eddie blinked, his wide, reddish-brown eyes staring at Steve in disbelief.

“Could you repeat that? Because for a second there, it sounded like you were suggesting I should be drinking blood from a person.”

“It sounded that way because that’s exactly what I’m suggesting,” Steve said, keeping his tone calm. “Not just any person—someone who’d let you do it, of course.”

Eddie’s expression hardened as his voice rose, anger mixing with incredulity. “Are you out of your mind? You’re suggesting I just walk up to someone and be like, ‘Hey, can I get some consensual blood-sucking in? I can’t promise it won’t hurt, but you’d be doing me a real favor.’ Is that what you’re suggesting?”

The flare of anger in Eddie’s voice was almost a relief. It was familiar, a sign that somewhere under all that fear, the Eddie Steve knew was still there. Steve would take Eddie’s frustration over the emptiness he’d seen in him any day.

“Of course not,” Steve replied, his lips curling into a smile as Eddie’s shoulders sagged a little. “I’m suggesting you drink from me.”

You could’ve heard a pin drop in that moment, even with Steve’s less-than-perfect hearing. He was certain Eddie had even stopped breathing, not that he needed to. Eddie just stared at Steve like he’d suggested they strip naked, douse themselves in glitter, and run sparkling through the streets of Hawkins.

“Did you hear me? I. Want. You. To. Drink. From. Me,” Steve repeated, enunciating each word with deliberate conviction.

Eddie was already shaking his head before Steve had even finished speaking. “No! No, no, no. Absolutely not. You’re insane. I—Steve, please, no.”

It was like Eddie was going through the stages of grief—anger, denial, and bargaining. Robin had explained those to him once, and now Steve was watching them unfold before his eyes.

He knew he couldn’t force Eddie to do it, no matter how desperately he wanted to. The truth gnawed at him: a part of Steve didn’t just want Eddie to feel better; he wanted to be the one who made Eddie feel better. And wasn’t that a messed-up thing to feel?

“Please, man. You’re dying. I can see it, and you can’t go on like this much longer.”

The look of utter defeat was painful enough, but it was the resignation in Eddie’s eyes that twisted the knife deeper into Steve’s heart.

“I’m already dead, Steve,” Eddie said quietly. “I died that night, and I shouldn’t have come back. Not like this. I don’t want to live as a monster. If I don’t feed, maybe I can at least die as a human.”

His words were calm, as though Eddie had made peace with his fate, but the sadness lurking behind them hit Steve like a truck.

It made him furious.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You’re seriously gonna sit there, look me in the eye, and tell me it’d be better if you were dead?” Steve’s voice shook with raw emotion. “Newsflash, asshole—if you die, it would destroy the kids. Dustin worships your scrawny ass. Mike tries to grow his hair like yours. Max would play D&D just to have you DM the game. And it’s not just them. Nancy. Robin. Me. Did you ever think about that? We need you, Eddie. So don’t you dare say it’d be better if you died, because it wouldn’t. It wouldn’t!”

His chest heaved with the effort of getting the words out, his anger mingling with desperation. But as the weight of his outburst settled, Steve felt something shift—like a festering wound finally being drained. It left him raw, but somehow… cleaner.

For a second, he thought it had worked. Eddie moved toward him slowly, his hand outstretched. Steve noticed the darkened tips of Eddie’s fingers, the sharpness of his nails, more menacing than they’d been just hours ago. But Steve didn’t flinch. He stayed exactly where he was, letting Eddie come closer.

Eddie didn’t bite him. Instead, his fingertips grazed Steve’s cheek, soft as a summer breeze. “You’re crying?” Eddie’s voice was a disbelieving whisper, like he couldn’t fathom that the thought of losing him could bring Steve to tears.

“I don’t wanna lose you,” Steve whispered back, his voice thick with emotion. He didn’t care if Eddie could see everything he was feeling now—all the love and fear, laid bare for him to witness. If it meant Eddie would accept his help, if it meant Eddie would stay, then Steve would give him everything.

“You really mean it.” The wonder in Eddie’s voice made Steve smile, because it was so unmistakably Eddie.

“For someone so smart, you can be incredibly thick. Yes, I mean it. Now would you please get over yourself and bite me already? Jeez.”

Eddie’s startled laugh told Steve he’d said the right thing. “You do know I repeated senior year three times, right?”

“Yeah, and we both know that had nothing to do with you being dumb, dumbass.”

They both grinned at each other, the kind of goofy smiles that made Steve’s chest feel light. In that moment, all Steve wanted was to lean in and kiss Eddie—just close the gap and see what it felt like to finally do it.

But before he could act on that impulse, Eddie’s face suddenly twisted in pain.

“Eddie? Are you okay? What’s happening?” Steve’s voice rose with the anxiety building in his chest.

Through clenched teeth, Eddie managed, “I’m so hungry and you—” He stopped, squeezing his eyes shut.

“You what? Come on, man, I thought we were having a moment here. Talk to me!”

Eddie groaned, clearly struggling, and finally blurted out, “You smell so fucking good, okay? Happy now? You smell good enough to eat and it hurts.”

The weight of Eddie’s words hung in the small space between them, thick with tension. Steve had been through enough—beaten, tortured, fighting interdimensional monsters while babysitting a pack of troublemakers. He’d earned something good in his life, damn it. And if that “something good” was Eddie Munson biting him and drinking his blood to stay alive, then so be it. Steve Harrington would take it.

"Almost," Steve growled, his patience finally snapping. He framed Eddie’s face with his hands, pulling him forward into a kiss that had been months in the making. And Eddie went willingly—no, eagerly—letting Steve lick into his mouth with a muffled, desperate moan.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve leaned back, pulling Eddie with him into the back seat. Eddie followed without hesitation, lips still fused to Steve’s as if they couldn’t bear to part. Maybe it was Eddie’s newfound abilities, or maybe the kiss had awakened some hidden grace, but somehow, Eddie managed to climb into the back with him without so much as a stumble.

The heat between them was electric like a thunderstorm, a shiver of pure need running through Steve’s body.

As they sank onto the cool leather, Eddie’s weight pressed down on him, and for the first time in what felt like forever, something settled in Steve’s chest too—a deep sense of peace. He had craved this closeness for so long, the feeling of Eddie with him, on him.

“Eddie,” Steve moaned, finally pulling back to gasp for air. The moment their lips parted, though, he felt Eddie tense above him, realization dawning in his eyes. The danger of being so close to Steve, so close to his pulse, his heart pounding from desire, the blood rushing beneath his skin—it obviously hit Eddie like a freight train.

Steve knew if he didn’t act fast, Eddie would pull away, put distance between them when all Steve wanted was to be even closer. So he took the leap, pushing Eddie’s face toward his neck just as he wedged his thigh between Eddie’s legs.

“Please, baby,” Steve breathed, voice low and thick with want. “I need you to bite me. I want it. I want you.”

He didn’t care that he was begging—he only cared that Eddie wouldn’t leave him.

“Steve—” Eddie’s voice was strained, pained, and Steve felt the sharp graze of a fang against the sensitive skin of his neck.

Steve didn’t give him time to second-guess. He pressed his thigh upward, right against the growing bulge in Eddie’s jeans, and the movement knocked Eddie off balance. He fell forward, right into Steve’s arms, and Steve held him tight, refusing to let him pull away.

“I know you want to, so do it,” Steve urged, breath coming in shallow bursts. When Eddie still hesitated, Steve rocked his hips up and clawed at Eddie’s back, desperation leaking into his voice. “Do it!”

And then, finally—Eddie gave in. With a groan that was half-pain, half-relief, he sank his teeth into Steve’s neck.

It hurt.

But the pain wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst was the sucking—the sensation of blood being drawn from his veins. It felt foreign, unnatural, mixing with the burning throb of the open wound on his neck. The combination made his head spin, disorienting him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Yet somehow, despite—or maybe because of—the intensity of those sensations, Steve was painfully hard. His cock strained against his Levi’s, which already felt tight on a normal day. Now, they were almost unbearable, constricting, and he half-wondered if they’d cut off circulation to his legs soon.

It was confusing, how his body reacted to Eddie feeding on him, but what really sent shivers down his spine were the sounds Eddie was making. Quiet, needy moans muffled by Steve’s neck, soft hums of pleasure that Eddie probably wasn’t even aware of. And it wasn’t just that—Steve could feel Eddie mindlessly rutting against his thigh, the thick, hard length of him pressing into Steve like a promise.

Steve had never been this close to another guy’s hard-on before. The closest he’d come was watching Tommy H. jerk off beside him in his bedroom during a sleepover, Tommy’s eyes dark with something that had made Steve’s skin prickle. But this? This was so much better. It wasn’t just real—it was Eddie. And Steve had been halfway in love with him ever since that day when Eddie talked about Dustin, about how much the kid worshiped him, and how maybe Steve wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

The cramped space of the car was filled with the sound of their ragged breaths and soft moans, but they weren’t just Eddie’s anymore. Steve’s own sounds were growing louder by the second, the initial sting of pain transforming into a heady mix of heat and need. Each pull on his neck sent a pulse of pleasure straight down to his groin, making his cock twitch against the too-tight denim.

He had never felt anything like this before—this blend of pain and pleasure, of intimacy and raw need. And all he could think was how right it felt. How right Eddie felt.

Steve felt like he was drifting in a dream, the world around him soft and hazy, time slipping through his fingers like sand. He couldn’t tell how long it had been since Eddie’s teeth first pierced his skin—seconds, minutes, hours? Maybe even days. It was impossible to say, lost as he was in the slow, heated grind of their bodies. The friction between them pushed him higher and higher, though he wasn’t sure if it was the pleasure or the blood loss that had his head spinning. A distant part of his mind registered alarm at how weightless he felt, how far away everything seemed.

But Steve felt so good. Safe, even, wrapped in the arms of one of the most dangerous creatures he’d ever encountered.

It was Eddie who finally pulled back with a wet, slurping sound, his mouth leaving Steve’s neck as he gasped for breath. “Steve? Shit, Steve, come on, man, look at me.” Eddie’s cool hand cupped Steve’s cheek, shaking him gently, his fingers trembling as he turned Steve’s face to meet his gaze. When their eyes finally locked, Steve was relieved to see that the red had vanished entirely from Eddie’s eyes, replaced by the familiar warm brown that he had come to love.

“’ddie?” Steve slurred, his voice sounding weak, even to his own ears. He caught the worried look on Eddie’s face, the way his brows knit together and his lips pressed into a tight line, stained with drops of blood. My blood, Steve thought vaguely. Somehow, the idea didn’t bother him. Summoning the last bit of strength he had, Steve smiled and placed his hand over Eddie’s, still resting on his cheek. “’m fine. Promise.”

“You don’t look fine, Steve,” Eddie shot back, panic edging his voice. “You look like you’re about to pass out. Goddammit, why didn’t you stop me? Shit, I could’ve killed you.”

Eddie’s voice cracked with guilt, his words thick with fear and desperation. He sounded wrecked, not in the way the still-persistent throbbing in Steve’s groin suggested they both should be, but wrecked with the weight of what had just happened. But Steve didn’t care about that. He didn’t care that he was dizzy, or that his body felt light as a feather. What mattered was making Eddie understand that Steve wanted this. He wanted everything Eddie could give him—his hunger, his desire, his love. And in return, he wanted Eddie to take everything from him — his blood, his heart, hell, even his life. It was all Eddie’s for the taking.

A gasp slipped from Eddie’s lips, sharp and incredulous. “Eddie…” Steve’s voice was barely a whisper, his gaze soft and unwavering as he stared into Eddie’s wide, unblinking eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” Eddie whispered, his voice thick with disbelief.

Steve blinked, suddenly realizing he must have said it all out loud. Oops.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound, right? So far, Steve’s gut instincts had always guided him right, more or less. He was still alive, wasn’t he? That was good enough in his book even if the Robin in his head was rolling her eyes at him.

“I mean it,” he said, his voice soft but steady. “I know you don’t believe me, but I do. I want you. All of you—the good, the bad, the ugly.” Steve’s lips curled into a smirk, mischief lighting his eyes. “And if you haven’t noticed…” He rolled his hips deliberately, making sure Eddie could feel just how much he wanted him. “I was really enjoying myself.” To drive his point home, he shifted his thigh, pressing it against the unmistakable evidence of Eddie’s arousal. Above him, Eddie’s face contorted in pleasure, a low moan rumbling from deep in his chest.

Gotcha, Steve thought with a smug little grin.

“And I think you liked it, too,” Steve continued, his voice dipping lower. “So why don’t you stop worrying and get us both off, huh? I’m not sure I can right now, so it’s the least you could do to make it up to me, don’t you think?”

It was a bold move, pretending to be nonchalant when, in reality, Steve felt like he was hanging on the edge of a cliff, waiting to see if Eddie would catch him or let him fall. His heart pounded in his chest, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still as he watched Eddie’s face—those deep, whiskey-brown eyes wide with surprise, disbelief, and something else that made Steve’s pulse race even faster.

Then, something happened that Steve did not see coming at all.

Eddie laughed.

Not just a chuckle, either, but a real, belly-deep laugh that shook his entire body. The anxiety that had been etched into his features for so long, the haunted look he’d worn since coming back from the dead, finally melted away. In its place, there was warmth, the corners of his eyes crinkling as laughter spilled from his lips, dimples flashing in a way that made Steve’s heart clench.

Eddie was so beautiful.

Eddie’s laughter faded, the echo of it lingering in the close confines of the car like the remnants of a shared secret. His gaze softened, the humor in his eyes shifting into something far more tender, far more vulnerable. “You’re unbelievable, Harrington,” he said, shaking his head, but this time his voice was filled with awe rather than disbelief. “Here you are, barely hanging on, and somehow you’re still making me feel flustered. What kind of guy are you?”

His fingers, cool but delicate, ghosted over Steve’s cheek, the sharpness of his nails a reminder of the monster Eddie thought he was. But the touch? That was all Eddie—the boy Steve had been falling for piece by piece. “You really want me to believe you’re okay with this? With me? After what I just did to you?”

Eddie’s voice wavered, his uncertainty spilling out despite the bravado. “You’re either the bravest or the dumbest guy I’ve ever met. Maybe both.”

Steve couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips, one that matched Eddie’s in its softness, despite the tension hanging between them. “I don’t hear you telling me I’m wrong, man. We’ve been talking about me—what I want. But what about you?” He paused, his voice gentle but probing. “What do you want, Eddie?”

Eddie’s reply came without hesitation. “You.”

Steve’s heart stuttered in his chest while the butterflies in his stomach went wild. His voice dropped to a whisper. “Then have me.”

Blessedly, this time, Eddie didn’t argue. He didn’t hesitate or question whether he deserved this—deserved Steve. He just did what Steve asked.

Pushing himself up on one arm, Eddie moved his other hand from Steve’s cheek, letting it trail down to palm him through his jeans. The earlier intensity had faded slightly during their conversation, but the moment Eddie’s hand found him, it was like lighting a match to gasoline. Heat surged through Steve, reigniting everything Eddie had stirred up.

Eddie's grin widened, his sharp teeth gleaming as he looked down at Steve, the dangerous undertone of it a sharp contrast to the mischievous, boyish excitement that always pushed Steve to keep up with his contagious energy. “I knew you’d be packing, big boy,” Eddie teased, his voice full of admiration and humor. “And all this for lil’ old me?” His fingers squeezed experimentally before running along the length of him, feeling the way Steve’s body responded, hardening further under his touch.

Steve, still a little lightheaded from the blood loss—made worse now that more of his blood seemed to be rushing south—blinked up at Eddie, his thoughts scrambled. All he could do was press his hips up, seeking more friction, his body moving on instinct even if his brain was lagging behind.

His hips began to grind against Eddie’s hand, slowly at first, trying to find a rhythm as Eddie held back, teasing, not giving him the relief he craved. Words failed him, but his body knew exactly what it wanted, each roll of his hips desperate and pleading.

“Didn’t anyone ever—fuck—tell you not to play with your food?” Steve groaned, hips stuttering as Eddie’s touch continued its slow, maddening exploration. It was risky bringing up the fact Eddie had just fed from him, but the elephant in the room wasn’t going anywhere, so why not address it now, while they were both caught up in the heat of the moment?

Eddie paused for just a moment, his eyes searching Steve’s with an unreadable expression. Then, he laughed softly, the sound low and rough, sending a shiver through Steve's entire body. "Oh, sweetheart," Eddie murmured, leaning closer, his lips brushing against Steve’s ear. "You have no idea how much I want to devour you."

Before Steve could even process Eddie’s words, Eddie shifted, settling between his thighs. The new position aligned their hard cocks perfectly, and they both gasped at the intense sensation. Eddie leaned down, nosing along Steve’s jaw until his breath ghosted over Steve’s ear. “Thank you, Stevie,” he whispered.

Eddie's hips rolled slowly, expressing his gratitude with each movement, though Steve wasn’t sure what Eddie was thanking him for. It didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was the electric friction between them, the delicious drag of flesh against flesh. The weight of Eddie’s body should have made Steve feel trapped, but instead, it just amplified his need, igniting something primal within him. He was prey—and he loved it.

That thought made him cling even tighter, his legs wrapping around Eddie's waist to increase the friction. Eddie’s pace quickened, hips thrusting with more purpose, slow but insistent, like they were making love for real. Like Eddie was buried deep inside him. And suddenly, that’s all Steve wanted—Eddie inside him, closer, always closer. His teeth in Steve’s neck, his cock in his body. He needed to feel everything.

Steve’s fingers dug into Eddie’s back, nails scratching against the thin fabric of his shirt in a desperate attempt to mark him, to claim him the way Eddie had claimed Steve with his bite. Eddie didn’t complain—if anything, the scratches seemed to spur him on. His breath hitched, and he let out a string of grunts and moans, the sounds vibrating against Steve’s skin as Eddie whispered praises into his ear. He called Steve brave, kind, selfless, and so, so pretty.

Steve had experienced some incredible sex in his life, but nothing compared to this—dry-humping Eddie Munson in the backseat of his car, bodies pressed together, breathless, and needy.

A familiar tightness coiled in his groin, his whole body tensing as he teetered on the edge of release. But something was missing.

“Bite me,” Steve begged, his voice high and needy, almost desperate.

Eddie whimpered, his hips stuttering for just a moment. “Steve—”

Not willing to let Eddie pull away, Steve’s hand gripped his ass, urging him to keep moving, while his other hand pressed against Eddie’s neck, guiding him closer to his own neck. “I’m close, baby, so close. Please.”

As Eddie's teeth sank into his flesh once more, Steve's vision blurred, the rush of pleasure and pain so overwhelming it felt like his soul had left his body for a moment. He must’ve floated away for a bit, because when he came back to himself, he was no longer beneath Eddie but lying on top of him, his head resting on Eddie’s chest, while Eddie’s fingers gently combed through his hair in a soothing rhythm.

Steve must’ve made a sound, or maybe Eddie was attuned to the change in his breathing, because Eddie noticed right away.

“Hey, sweetheart, back with me?” Eddie’s voice was soft, warm, filled with affection.

“Mmm,” Steve hummed, feeling content and utterly spent. His limbs felt like they weighed a ton, his body heavy but blissfully sated. “Don’t wanna move.”

“Never?” Eddie chuckled, his laughter light and fond, and Steve could feel himself falling even deeper into this perfect moment, cocooned in the warmth of post-orgasmic bliss.

He opened his mouth to respond, but before he could, his stomach growled loudly, breaking the quiet. Eddie snorted. “I think we have to move, darling. That sounded like a demogorgon.”

Steve groaned in protest, causing Eddie to give in with a soft smile. “Okay, fine. A few more minutes, but then we’ll get you something to eat and drink.” His hand drifted to Steve’s neck, thumb gently brushing over the already healing bite. “This took a lot out of you. Let me take care of you, okay? Like you did for me.”

Steve snuggled closer, the idea of being cared for by Eddie sounding better than anything. “Okay,” he mumbled.

Eddie pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head, his voice barely a whisper. “Thank you, Stevie.”

[luxaofhesperides]

Ghostlight prompt: Danny and Duke being childhood friends, but Danny tells Duke the moment the accident happens and such cause he trusts him, only for Danny to go radio silent when giw decide to block the town communications in senior year.

So Duke-does he tell Danny he's Signal or not? Up to you-gets worried the longer no contact goes by.

Maybe the away game thing seen in other posts where the sports team still does away games and Danny gets enough good will with star or dash maybe and they send a message to Duke that's some coded phrase and Duke knows shits going down?

(yourlocalcorviddad, it's a side blog so didn't want to send from main sorry)

Danny is not someone who is on his mind a lot, these days. It’s to be expected, considering how distance and their double lives eat up all the time they have to talk. Really, it’s a miracle that they were able to speak enough to learn about their own individual vigilante work, especially with Duke bouncing around foster homes for a good portion of that time. 

They haven’t spoke in months but that’s normal for them.

Duke thinks he can be forgiven for not knowing something was wrong. He still won’t forgive himself for it.

“Danny’s gone?” he repeats, feeling numb. There’s static ringing in his ears, his entire world hollowing out.

The guy in front of him looks grim, unable to meet Duke’s eyes. Did he introduce himself? Duke can’t remember, can’t keep his spiraling thoughts straight in his head. “He’s gone. His entire family is gone and we haven’t been able to call for help because… well…”

“It’s those guys, right? The ones in white?”

“You know about them?”

“Danny told me. Danny told me a lot about what he did in Amity Park.”

The guy lets out a slow, relieved breath. “Good, then I don’t have to explain. Sorry, it’s just that it’s not something we talk about, especially out in the open. After the last few months, things got really bad. We know the GIW took the Fentons, but we can’t find out how or why and they’ve got us on a tight lockdown.”

“Then how did you get out?” Duke asks. Another arguably more important question pops into his mind a second later. “Actually, how do you know about Danny and… you know. The other things.”

The grimness on the guy’s expression fades away some beneath the sudden shame and embarrassment. “Oh, that. Well, I dunno how much he told you about his, like, daily life, but, um. I’m Dash. Baxter. I bullied him?”

Dash. 

Dash. That’s a name he recognizes. 

Danny’s complained about Dash a lot in the past. Since they were in middle school, really. Duke would always get mad on Danny’s behalf about how terribly he’s being treated, how no one would stop such obvious bullying. And every time, Danny would laugh it off and say in that soft voice of his, It’s alright, Duke, really. Having you care is more than enough for me.

It never stopped the bullying, though, but the way Danny talked about Dash changed when they both entered high school. He was still annoyed about everything Dash did, but there were less insults about him, less venting about every little thing that pissed Danny off about him, as if he just didn’t care anymore.

And there is, of course, the most memorable time Danny called Duke about Dash over the summer.

Hey, Danny, Duke had began, only to be cut off by Danny yelling, I kissed Dash?! Or he kissed me?! What am I supposed to do now!

And Duke, despite the jealousy he felt at hearing that Danny and Dash kissed, laughed so hard he cried while Danny yelled at him to be helpful. 

There wasn’t any discussion on Dash since, beyond a comment here and there about a funny fanboying thing Dash had said about Phantom. The focus of their conversations shifted towards how hard it was to be heroes or vigilantes, quiet reassurances that they’re both doing the best they can, tips traded about best ways to patch themselves up and get through the night. Sometimes, it felt like Danny was the only person in the world to really know Duke; all his pain and promises, his dreams, everything he was Before and who he became in the After.

He’s missed Danny, but the last message Danny sent him told him that things were getting rough in Amity Park, and to not call or contact him until he reached out first.

So Duke trusted in Danny and focused his attention in Gotham, putting his all into becoming a better hero, someone people can rely on. 

He thinks that maybe he should have fallen into the Bats’ bad habits of invading privacy to make sure Danny’s okay. 

Too late for that now, though.

“I know you,” Duke says after a long moment. “He talked about you sometimes. Come with me, we have a lot to discuss.”

Dash looks appropriately nervous, but he doesn’t argue. 

It’s a tense, quiet walk to the library where Barbara works. She’s stationed at the front desk when he arrives and greets him with a smile, eyes flicking towards Dash in question.

“Hey, Babs, got a private study room open?”

Her gaze sharpens and Duke can’t help the feeling of relief that flows through him, knowing that Oracle is ready to look out for him. “Let me check,” she says, turning towards the computer to click around a few pages. “Study room 8 is open.”

That’s the study room with a working lock and soundproofing. It also has cameras and a mic inside, but all the other study rooms have one too, just for safety purposes. Things could always go terribly wrong when people are locked together in a small room, and having video and audio evidence of what happened has assisted in more than a few cases. 

He leads them up to the second floor, past the students studying and the group of young children in the back corner of the library listening intently to a read aloud. 

The only occupied study rooms are those up front, closer to the stairs. The back rooms are empty and quiet, the perfect place for a little impromptu interrogation.

“So,” Duke says as he closes the door to study room 8 behind them. Dash sits down as if this is just a casual conversation, but the way his foot taps against the floor betrays his nerves. “Danny’s gone. And somehow, that lead you to me.”

Dash glance around, then leans closer to drop his voice into a harsh whisper. “The Guys In White got some insane upgrades a few months ago and forced every citizen of Amity Park into a surveillance state. The entire Fenton family is gone, but we all know it’s really because they want Danny.”

“Explain the situation in Amity Park some more.”

“Well. It’s like this: we didn’t take them seriously, so they upped their moves and got us trapped. No one goes in or out of Amity Park without good, verifiable reason. We have a curfew and we can be randomly stopped and searched for ectoplasm or exposure to ghosts. Most of the ghosts have left, but a few of the stronger ones hang around to cause trouble to get the GIW off our backs for a bit.”

“So how did you end up in Gotham?”

“I was invited to tour the college. And since outsiders were expecting me, the GIW let me go. But there’s definitely some that tailed me to Gotham, but I can’t find them at all. Even talking to you now is a huge risk for me.”

Which means they don’t have much time to talk before someone comes looking for Dash. His words, paired with everything Duke’s heard from Danny, paint a deeply unpleasant picture in his mind. “Are you going to be in trouble?”

“Nah, I’ll be fine. It’s Danny we’re all worried about. He told me before he got caught that if anything happened to him, I should find you. Tucker helped us narrow down where exactly you are and sent you that text to get you to where we met.”

“What do you think I can do?”

“I don’t know,” Dash admits. “But Danny trusts you, and he needs your help.”

Duke was never going to say no to this request to begin with, but damn if those words don’t make him want to run to Amity Park without waiting for anyone else.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay. I’ll help rescue him and bring down the GIW. You should go now, before they get too suspicious.”

“What are you planning?”

“I got a couple of friends who are good at destroying government property. Trust me, you’ll see what we’re up, we’re pretty noticeable if we’re pissed off enough.”

“Don’t take too long then,” Dash says, standing up, “I expect a good show from you. See you around, man.”

And with that, Dash pats Duke’s shoulder and leaves the study room. Duke doesn’t follow after him.  He’s got a rescue to start planning, and the less time he wastes, the better.

In the end, it’s pretty simple. It’s not a hard mission at all when the time comes for them to act, but the amount of data they gather and have to shift through is daunting. But that’s more Tim and Barbara’s forte, so he trusts them to handle it. 

Together with Red Robin, Spoiler, and Black Bat, they hit Amity Park hard and fast. 

One night was spent learning the lay of the land and every station and lab set up by the GIW. The second night was spent burning it all down and tossing open cages full of green blob ghosts and a few transparent, weakly glowing human ghosts. Stronger ghosts, glowing brightly, joined them in a few places with battle cries and maniacal laughter.

They split up and took down all the bases and patrol stations on their own, sweeping through the city like vengeful shadows. 

By dawn, the GIW were in shambles, without any bases or equipment, and rounded up for arrest. 

Cass was the one to find Danny and his family; his parents were forced to create weapons for the GIW under threat of Danny and Jazz’s torture. Danny was locked up like an animal and studied. Jazz had restraints on, including a muzzle, and a bloodthirsty rage in her eyes. Apparently, she had put up the most fight and, while being studied for repeated exposure to ectoplasm and radiation, started biting people.

The Fentons are big names in this conflict. Tim makes the executive decision to burn one of his out-of-state safehouses so they can hide and recover in peace, then promptly moves them into it as soon as the EMTs give them the all clear. They’re gone by the time the sun is rising over the horizon, and the curious Amity Parkers that have gathered behind the blockade of police cars have to be reassured that the Fentons have been taken away for their protection, not for further abuses. Even then, tensions are high and the locals are clearly prepared to start rioting now that they have a chance to fight back.

As vigilantes, they’re not meant to interact with cops much. Perhaps it’s simply their experiences in Gotham that keep them at a distance, disappearing into the neighborhood the moment attention shifts off of them. Either way, Duke is hurrying out of Amity Park with the rest of the team on his heels, eager to return to Gotham and follow up on their own leads to make sure the GIW is properly gutted and dismantled. 

Duke heads off for the Hatch as soon as they reach Gotham, hoping to shed the suit and finally be able to call Danny. The guilt of not noticing how bad things had gotten rolls through his stomach, and more than that, he’s missed hearing Danny’s voice. 

The first few calls go straight to voicemail. Duke leaves a quick message asking Danny to let him know how he’s doing as soon as he can talk. 

Then he goes for a shower and to change into civilian clothes, prepared to make his way to Wayne Manor to let Bruce know how everything went. And hopefully distract him from his Disappointed Father/Leader Lecture about taking on missions behind his back, as if Duke can’t handle himself. And also because Bruce has no leg to stand on when it comes to this. He’s fully prepared to throw that entire lecture back into his face at a moment’s notice.

The post-mission exhaustion is hitting him hard and fast. Duke has to brace himself against the wall once he’s out of the shower, resisting the urge to just lie on the floor and sleep there until he starts feeling more human. 

Somehow, he gets himself into some sweatpants and a plain shirt, pulls on a pair of mismatched socks, and begins gathering his things so he can get to the Batcave. 

He’s in no state to be driving. Maybe someone would be willing to take him there?

Just as he reaches for his phone to thumb through his contacts and see who he can bother, it buzzes in his hand. Duke blames the way he jumps on his exhaustion, then blinks his tired eyes to squint at the name that pops up onto the screen.

Danny.

All at once, his exhaustion fades away. A rush of adrenaline runs through him as he scrambles to accept the call, already pacing around the room so he doesn’t fall asleep. 

“Hello?”

There’s a moment of silence, then the exhale of a breath that turns to static over the call. “Duke,” Danny’s tired voice says. “Duke…”

“You doing okay? I couldn’t get to you before you and your family had to leave and go into hiding, but I’ve been worried about you, man.”

“I’m good. We’re all fine, now. Fentons are strong, you know? We’ll bounce back in no time.”

From what he’s heard about Danny’s family, that’s most definitely true. He’s seen the pictures of walls Jack Fenton has burst through with his body. It’ still hard to believe that no one in the family is a meta, outside of Danny.

“You need anything? I can get it to you, just say the word. Anything at all.”

Danny hums, then asks with a playful note in his voice, “Anything?”

“Anything.”

“I need you. How fast can you come meet me? I’ll even pay for express delivery.”

Duke laughs, so relieved at hearing the lightness return to Danny’s voice that he feels weak in the knees. “It’ll be at least two days. I gotta sleep and debrief with Batman before I can see you. It’s gonna take some time to get out of Gotham again.”

“Maybe I can go to you, instead,” Danny suggests. “Fly over and be there is less than an hour.”

“Are you in any shape to be flying right now?”

“I’m fine! Already healing and everything,” Danny insists.

“It might be dangerous if any rogue GIW agents go after you.”

“Well,” Danny says, “That’s why I need to get to my knight in shining armor sooner rather than later, right?”

Duke bites his lip to fight back a smile, blinking his eyes forcefully to keep them from closing under the heavy weight of exhaustion. “Does that make you a damsel in distress?”

“I mean, I did need rescuing, so I guess? I’m not much of a damsel, but I could put on a pretty dress for you. It’ll be like playing pretend when we were kids.”

“Oh, man, I kinda miss those poofy dresses. I think I could still rock on, put it on top of the armor when I go out for patrol.”

Danny snickers. “Signal: the most well dressed vigilante in Gotham.”

“That’s me, baby!”

The last of the agonizing fear that’s choked him since he first talked to Dash finally melts away. Danny’s fine now. Everything’s okay; the GIW are done for and there’s plenty of people willing to look out for the Fentons. This will never happen again.

“Hey,” Danny says, voice suddenly turing more serious. “Send me your location. I wasn’t joking when I said I could fly over to you. And before you say anything! I do need it; Jazz and my parents are smothering me and I just need to get away from everything and pretend all of this never happened.”

The admission softens Duke, makes him shove away everything that tells him this is a bad idea, that Danny needs more rest first, that having Danny fly over alone and without warning any of the Bats fills Duke with anxiety. 

He does miss Danny. More than he can put into words.

“Yeah, okay,” he says at last. “Come meet me, Danny.”

He texts Danny the location of the Hatch before common sense tells him to be more careful with his base of operations. Not that it matters, anyways; if there’s anyone in the world he trusts with everything, it’s Danny. 

Then he sends the Bats a quick text saying he’s crashing in the Hatch and to not bother him until the sun is fully up two days from now. Oracle gives him a thumbs up emoji, which is a good guarantee that she will personally see to it that no non-emergency messages interrupt his rest and recovery time.

Duke has no idea how long it will take Danny to get to the Hatch, so he putters around, cleaning up the space and straightening it out in an attempt to keep busy enough that he doesn’t crash. Travel really takes it out of him. It’s one of the cons of being born and raised in Gotham: he doesn’t have the stamina to travel outside of it, especially when they were there and back in less than three days.

Thank god for Tim’s many motorcycles and his tendency to see the speed limit as a weak suggestion that can be ignored while on a mission.

Ultimately, the call of sleep is too strong to resist. 

One moment, Duke is sorting through files on the Hatch’s computer, and the next moment, he’s face down on a bed with his face shoved into a pillow. 

Blearly, he manages to pull his phone out of his pocket and send Danny a typo-ridden text that hopefully gets across the message of might be asleep so just come in, don’t wait for me to answer the door.

He’s out like a light as soon as it sends. The last thing Duke registers is his phone dropping out of his hand and falling against the mattress with a little bounce.

When he begins to wake up, something’s changed. As much as he wants to go back to sleep, awareness comes back to him slowly and Duke forces himself to claw his way out of unconsciousness to figure out what, exactly, is bothering him so much. Until he figures out what’s changed in the room, he won’t be able to sleep because he’ll be worried about someone breaking in.

His mind comes back online long before his body does. It’s only when he tries to move that Duke realizes he’s no longer alone on the bed; there’s someone wrapped up in his arms, body temperature a little too cool to be a normal human.

Blinking open his eyes, Duke looks down at the head of messy black hair and feels Danny’s soft breath ghost across his chest. 

“Danny?” he manages to say, voice rough with sleep. 

Danny hums and doesn’t move.

“Hey, look up. Let me see if you’re really alright.”

“Mmm, no,” Danny mumbles, burrowing his face into Duke’s chest some more. “‘m sleepy.”

A good argument. Duke is also sleepy. 

“Fine,” he says, “Check in the morning, then. G’night, Danny.”

“Night, Duke. Thanks for saving me.”

He tightens his grip on Danny, contentment burning warm in his chest. “Always, Danny. I’ll always save you.”

That’s why he’s a hero, after all. To save others, to reach a hand out to everyone the way he needed when he was younger. To keep the people he loves safe. To make sure Danny always finds a way back to him. 

This is what makes all the pain of this lifestyle worth it.

Danny makes everything worth it.

(@yourlocalcorviddad tagging to make sure you see this!)

[vroomvroomcircuit]

Wildest Dream

(A/N): This is the crackies of crack fics. Enjoy.

Summary: Oscar's girlfriend draws the line when it comes to his bunny teeth. Even in her dreams.

Warnings: None. Just pure crack.

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1.4k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ______________________________

(Y/N) admits that her dreams are wild. Not weird. Wild is the only word that really fits. For her it has been like that since her early childhood days. It seems like every tiny impression she collects during the day gets sorted and thought about during her sleeping time.

Sometimes upon waking up, she immediately tells Oscar what happened in her vivid dreams, always giving him a good laugh and earning herself another warm hug in bed. It’s a good trade off in their opinion.

Although, other times (Y/N) is not able to differentiate between dreams and the reality, too caught up in the emotions that have been brought up to actually wake up and take her surroundings in. Which is a thing that Oscar has yet to see actually happen.

Another night of falling asleep cuddling her Australian koala close to her after he finally came home from the latest race weekend and him yapping about how one of his engineers got a teeth transplant and couldn’t be present this time around. During his in depth description of the procedure, (Y/N) only thought about how adorable Oscar’s front bunny teeth are. His soothing voice brings her into a land of dreams, even if he is talking about cutting out teeth.

Instead of listening to Oscar, she finds herself in a hospital bed, surrounded by white walls. The cream colored sheets are scratchy against her skin, making her want to claw them away the moment she realizes this sensation. But another man’s voice momentarily distracts her.

“The procedure was a success in all departments. We couldn’t be happier with the results,” A man in a white coat and glasses congratulates (Y/N), his eyes glued to a clipboard before smiling at her enthusiastically. But the young woman is even more confused now. “What procedure?” This question brings out a frown out of the middle aged man. He takes a small light out of his pocket and shines it into her eyes, blinding (Y/N) for a second. “It looks like the anesthesia hasn’t worn off completely yet. Miss, you got a new set of front teeth transplants. You knocked them out during a racing incident, don’t you remember?”

The young woman tries really hard to remember, but nothing the doctor says seems to ring a bell or shake a tambourine. It starts to concern herself, but she trusts the medical professional more than her own anxious feelings. After all, it does make sense that she somehow knocked her own teeth out by getting into an accident. She probably doesn’t remember it because of the traumatic experience. Good to know she has her teeth repaired, something she does not have to worry about anymore.

“Oscar. I want to see Oscar. Can you please bring me to my Oscar? He is easy to spot. A lanky, really awkward guy with brown hair. Cute eyes, don’t ask me the eye color. Whenever I try to actually look into them to find it out, I get lost. But it’s not a bad thing, his eyes are my favorite labyrinth. Oh, OH! Don’t forget about his adorable smile. It’s my favorite thing about Oscar, because it shows his cute bunny teeth. Ugh, I love them so so much. Have you seen that guy?” Shamelessly gushing about her boyfriend is something (Y/N) would have still done without being under the influence of anesthesia, but it still makes her tongue lighter.

The doctor nods a bit awkwardly. “He is in the waiting room. The poor boy wasn’t able to settle down at all during the operation. I’m going to get you some water and let him know you are expecting him.”

Now (Y/N) is kind of panicking. She wants nothing more than to see her boyfriend. But she apparently just came out of a procedure. Is she looking presentable? Will he be disgusted by her current appearance? Is there any blood left?

Maybe being worried about this is dumb, but this whole situation is so bizarre to (Y/N), she does not want any more problems, especially none regarding the love of her life.

There is a short knock on the door, to which the young woman quickly calls for the person to enter the room. Her breathtakingly cute Oscar pops in. “Osc! Look! I got a new tooth implant!”

Her excitement makes him smile his polite cat smile. He steps closer to the bed and strokes her cheek. “I knof. Who do you fink gave you hif teef?” Suddenly (Y/N) sees his front teeth missing. The cute bunny teeth that made her lighten up in any situation.

She can’t comprehend it. How can Oscar even dare to get rid of them. She surely could have gotten some new teeth elsewhere. But his audacity to just take his own out? Unbelievable. A big burst of anger makes its way into her chest.

(Y/N) sits up in her bed. The hospital room is gone, she is back in her shared bedroom with Oscar moving up next to her. He must have taken her home after she fell asleep because of the anesthesia again.

“Oh, good morning, Darling”, he greets her in his raspy morning voice. But she just ignores him and gets up swiftly to get dressed for the day. (Y/N) is still mad in a way she can’t put into words.

Which leaves the Australian in a confused state. What did he do to her? Did he kick her in his sleep again? Steal the blanket?

He tries to approach her again in the kitchen, seeing her prepare breakfast. He hugs her from behind, trying to swing them both from side to side. But (Y/N) is having none of it. She shakes him off and takes a step aside, earning a puzzled glance from him. “Hey, Baby. Why are you mad at me?”

She continues to ignore him, taking her plate and already prepared drink out onto the balcony. Oscar looks at the counter, missing his own plate. Usually, when he is home from racing, (Y/N) makes breakfast for the two of them. Apparently not today.

Sighing, he makes himself a plate of food and cleans up the kitchen before following his girlfriend. The young woman is already scrolling on her phone while slowly eating without waiting for him.

“(Y/N), please talk to me. What did I do wrong to make you this angry? How can I make it better?” Oscar is borderline pleading with her, just wanting to know what happened. He already misses his affectionate girlfriend.

“Take your teeth back and I will stop being mad at you. How can you even get to the dumb idea, giving me your teeth for a transplant.”

Her outburst takes him aback for a quick second. “Which teeth? I got all of mine and you got all of yours.” This makes (Y/N) halt in her own track. She looks at his mouth, which he opens up just for her to check his claim. Then she checks her own mouth.

“But, but you gave me your cute bunny teeth for a transplant, because I lost mine in a car accident or crash or so. How-” Her question is cut off by Oscar’s hearty laugh. This gets an immediate pout from her, which makes him want nothing more than to just kiss it away immediately.

“Darling, you dreamt that. You didn’t get a transplant and I didn’t give you anything. Even though I’m willing to give you all of me John Legend style, I know you wouldn’t appreciate me getting them taken out for you.” He pulls her into a tight embrace, which she finally succumbs to and even returns, straddling his hips to get even closer to him, becoming the koala in the relationship for once.

(Y/N) hides her face in his chest. “Oh no. I am so so sorry. It just somehow made sense to me. How can I make it up to you?” She whines, looking up with doe eyes at him.

Oscar is capable of many things. But being mad at his girlfriend is not one of them. “Mhhh, how about a kiss?” Quickly (Y/N) follows his request, pressing her lips to his, a mile erupting on Oscar’s face at her eagerness. They get lost in the moment, pressing gentle kisses to each other’s lips.

“Did you just lick over my teeth?” “I needed to make sure!”

[fortunxa]

Jinx with a drummer!reader

H E A D C A N O N S

╰┈➤ requested

Jinx x gn!reader

cw: mildly suggestive themes

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Jinx would absolutely think that playing the drums is easy at first.

She thought it was cool, but she wasn’t overly impressed.

That was until she heard you play.

Cue her raised eyebrows and curious smirk.

She tries it for herself just to make sure, but once she realizes that her playing doesn’t sound even remotely close to yours, that seals the deal.

This made her have a more analytical approach while watching you play. She wanted to understand the complexity of playing the drums.

She started noticing the rhythm and coordination, the timekeeping, the patterns and techniques, and it fascinated her.

She definitely appreciated your skill more after that.

Jinx would randomly come over, take a seat on the stool, and start hitting your drums as a way to relieve her tension.

She likes how the percussions drown out the voices, similar to her bombs.

So you let her, but a part of you would be worried about her damaging the set with how angry she could get.

She actually cracked your cymbal once and almost cried.

– “I didn’t mean to! I swear, I didn’t mean to!”

You had to comfort and reassure her that it happens sometimes, even to you.

She helped you repair it, of course, but she still gifted you a replacement for good measure.

After this, Jinx wanted you to teach her how to play. She said she was just itching to pick up a new skill, but she mostly wanted to learn how to properly care for your drum set so she could keep using it without the fear of damaging it.

She listens attentively while you show her the basics.

With her newfound understanding, she’s actually not half bad for a beginner. She picked up the rhythm quickly, and she already had natural coordination.

But this just inflated her ego.

– “Ha! Told you it was easy.”

She doesn’t mean what she says, she just loves to tease you.

You keep your worn-out drumsticks for her to snap in half when she gets upset.

The sight of you playing the drums turns her on.

The way you sit on your stool, looking so laid-back and confident. The way your arms tense ever so slightly as you play so effortlessly, lost in your own world.

It’s over if you start spinning your drumstick between your fingers.

Whenever she catches you lying on your stomach, she will pounce and start “drumming” on your backside.

You’ve become used to it after a while, so you just continue whatever you were doing and let her do her thing.

She will sometimes sit on your lap while you play, not caring if it distracts you. She just wants to be close.

Or she will straddle your lap and start kissing your neck, smirking to herself as she hears your playing falter while you get lost in the sensation.

– “Don’t mind me. Continue,” she’d murmur against your neck.

– “You’re such a tease.”

Jinx was slightly jealous when you told her about your small band. She wanted you all to herself, after all.

But, surprisingly, she didn’t try to pull you away from it either. She knew how much being able to express yourself through your music meant to you.

So, she settled on being there for you during your rehearsals.

She was, of course, analyzing the band’s dynamics, too, and taking notes of how the other members treat you.

Each glance, touch, and praise from them ignited her jealousy, but she remained collected, wanting to trust you.

But she’ll remind you, in more ways than one, that you’re hers after the rehearsal.

Jinx was the one to convince Silco to let your small band play at The Last Drop.

She wanted you to get some recognition, and she also wanted to show you off.

Silco protested at first, wanting only the best of the best to play at the bar, but her relentless arguments finally made him crack.

She obviously helped you transport your drum set and get set up.

The night of your first gig, you were nervous—and that’s putting it lightly. You didn’t want to disappoint the Eye of Zaun, after all.

But Jinx kept reassuring you, and when it was time for you to play, she was right there in the front row.

The patrons’ curious eyes had your heart thudding in your chest, but once you caught a glimpse of her soft and comforting gaze, nothing else mattered.

You let go of your inhibitions and started the show, quickly getting lost in your own world.

Seeing you let go of your fear and allowing yourself to enjoy the moment was beautiful to witness, and her eyes glimmered with pride as she tucked her lower lip between her teeth.

She didn’t care for the other band members. Her focus was solely on you. She knew that you were the one setting the tempo.

Her cheers could be heard over the hectic atmosphere of The Last Drop. The usually mysterious ‘loose cannon’ aggressively bobbing her head to the music was definitely a sight to see.

Once the gig was over, she ran up to you and kissed you passionately, unable to contain her excitement anymore.

Silco was impressed with how well you did and allowed you to continue playing from time to time.

Some things never change, and Jinx is always there to support you.

She also became your personal stylist, helping you put together outfits for each show.

– “You’re famous now, you have to look the part!”

You were definitely not famous—recognizable at best—but you appreciated her gesture.

She had Silco buy you a drum set to keep at The Last Drop so you didn’t have to worry about transporting your own each time.

He deducted it from your pay behind her back, but you didn’t have the heart to tell her.

She definitely marked your new drum set with her signature drawings.

She has a stash of drumsticks in her hideout in case you run out, and she’s so pleased with herself when it proves to be helpful.

She often asks you to play random sounds.

– “Oh! Oh! Play ‘ba dum tss’.”

And she laughs once you do as if it’s the funniest thing ever.

She gets her own private shows while she tinkers, and it always amazes you how she can maintain her focus while you play.

Whenever you mess up or get frustrated while learning a new song, Jinx is right there to comfort you.

She understands the pain of trial and error and what it’s like to not feel up to par, so she’s determined to chase those thoughts away from your mind.

– “You’re amazing, toots. Don’t ever doubt that. You’ll master it in no time, I know it.”

She would help you crack the pattern, and the both of you jump up and down in excitement once you finally learn it.

It’s safe to say that Jinx is your number one supporter.

[jasntodds]

hiii! could you do a comic!jason todd x reader angst where they were friends with benefits but reader developed feelings for him, and when she confesses he turns her down and "breaks up" with reader,

then a couple years later, reader moves on but jason isn't over them cause jason did like them back but was scared of commitment.

(if u want) angst prompt 35 when/if they reconnect

I literally rewrote this like 10 times because I couldn’t decide what I was gonna do with it and then it ended up being way longer than I intended lol I hope you like it!!

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Words: 4,378

Warnings: Swearing, angst, hurt/no comfort, mention of casual sex

masterlist | tag list | requests: open

You’re seated on Jason’s couch, facing him as you sit cross-legged. Your hands are in your lap, fiddling with your fingers as your hands shake. You think you’re gonna be sick.

“I-I, uh, I…like you.” You say it slower this time, barely glancing up Jason’s face. “More than a friend.” You wince with your words, wishing desperately to go back in time and not say anything.

He blinks at you and it’s the longest few seconds of your life.

“That…” Jason starts and he wants to bolt for the door. He wants to get as far away from this conversation as he possibly can.

The whole friends with benefits was supposed to be just that. Friends…with benefits. There were never supposed to be feelings because that complicates everything. Jason is very good at hiding his and keeping them to himself but you? He never thought you’d ever feel anything for him more than a friendship.

He thought, eventually, you’d find someone either at work or maybe on a shitty dating app he’d scoff and harass you over. The benefits would end and his chest would hurt a little but you’d be happy with someone who was deserving. You’d be with someone who was afraid to have this conversation.

“It’s…it’s okay if you don’t.” You chew the inside of your cheek, feeling them burn.

Jason Todd has only ever made you feel safe. It seems as though that security he offered allowed you to confess your feelings for him. You should have trusted your instincts. Bad Idea.

“I don’t.” Jason takes the out without even thinking about it and the words feel like glass on his tongue.

He watches your face fall and the rims of your eyes start to water. Your mouth opens as if you don’t know what to say and you’re grasping for anything. It’s not you, he thinks. It’s him, he thinks and he knows that’s terrible because that’s what everyone says but it’s true. He’s lying to you but it’s because he will always be a problem. He can’t bare the idea of a relationship or the commitment or anything that comes with offering himself to someone in that way.

He can’t offer the security of commitment.

This was supposes to be just friends having casual sex sometimes.

“Oh.” You finally get out and Jason thinks he’s just committed the worst crime of his life.

“You’re my best friend.” He says it and even that feels like a lie now.

You nod.

All you do is nod because you think if you try to say anything, a sob will rip your throat to shreds. You want to hold onto some part of your dignity.

Jason isn’t sure how you’d ever come back from this. He knows now. Now he knows you have feelings for him and he can’t just hold onto it. It’s too hard because he has feelings for you, too. Now that he knows, he’s terrified he will spill one day and then he’ll be sucked into something he can’t do. He’ll hurt you. He’ll hurt you worse than you are right now. Being friends with benefits was so much easier. He didn’t have to give you that part of himself. He didn’t have to worry about that part of you.

“I can’t do this anymore.” Jason keeps his voice steady, deciding maybe it’s best to just cut ties before this gets any worse for either one of you.

He thinks he’ll regret it later.

“But—“

“I can’t do it anymore.” Jason repeats himself, a little harder this time.

He knows he’ll regret it later.

“You should go.” He says it with a little bit of a bite and he really doesn’t mean to but he thinks if he doesn’t, you’ll hear his voice crack.

“Jay, I’m sorry.” You manage to get out as you get to your feet and somewhere in our stomach you feel betrayed.

It’s not that he doesn’t like you back, that’s okay. But he was supposed to be safe. Sure, he’s safe in a physical sense. You never have to even look over your shoulder or offer any paranoia when you walk with him through Gotham. You know if anything were to happen, he would know and he’d come. He’s always been safe in this protective way but he always felt safe with everything else, too.

You thought you could trust him with your words and your feelings and your heart. You thought, because he was your best friend first, even if this played out where you read the whole thing wrong, you’d be friends. He would apologize and offer some sort of condolence and you’d get over it. But, this doesn’t even feel like the Jason you’ve come to know and adore. A part of you feels lied to. You thought you could tell him anything.

“Just go.” Jason pulls in a breath. “Not tryin’ to hurt you but I can’t do it and that’s not fair to you. We shouldn’t’ve started this whole thing anyway.”

You nod again.

You think the floor might collapse from under your feet.

“Okay.” You say in defeat. “Okay.” You say it again as if the second time will ease some of the ache through your chest cavity.

It doesn’t.

And you leave with a hung head and tears stinging your eyes while Jason bites the lump in his throat down.

“You ready?” Dick asks, his arm locked with yours.

“I’m never ready for these and yet, I keep getting dragged to them.” You widen your eyes with a cornered grin.

Another gala, another night in a dress that isn’t the most comfortable, another night surrounded by rich people who don’t actually care about what the gala is for. You tend to be a plus one for Dick these days just so he doens’t have to go alone and half the time, you’re able to be an excuse to get out of there. You think that’s why he asks you.

“Thank you again.” Dick’s smile is bright and cheery, tender and kind.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re welcome.” You brush him off with a smile as the two of you enter the building.

You hang onto Dick’s arm, walking through the large room to greet some of the business men and women who are expected to be donating tonight. Dick makes nice as he always does while you just tag along. Talking to people at thes things was never much of a strong suit or something you really wanted to do. You are exclusively here for your friend.

After the fifth group, you excuse yourself to grab drinks for you and Dick. Standing at the bar seems to be a nice break from it all so you stall for a few minutes. You take your time ordering drinks and looking around the room, noticing some of the other bats also making their rounds to different groups. It almost makes you laugh knowing they all hate these things, too. But your attention suddenly gets pulled to the side as you feel someone stand beside you. Their presence is towering.

“Hey.” He say and you’d still recognize the voice anywhere.

“Uh…hey.” You state, turning around to face Jason.

In two years, he hasn’t changed. He’s in a tux, one similar to the one Dick is wearing. Black and white, pretty standard for these things. His hair is slicked and styled to lay flat, the white streak still bright as ever. You never liked his hair done this way. It always looked best a bit disheveled and tossled. His eyes are still the prettiest shade of green you’ve ever seen. You think he looks just as pretty today as he did two years ago and then you almost mentally scold yourself for even thinking it.

“How’re you?” Jason asks, trying hi best to ignore the racing of his heart.

You’re wearing one of your favorite colors, a color Jason swore always looked best on you. The dress fits you well even though Jason is betting you’re ready to go home and change. You have your hair done neatly, styled to be out of your face. Jason saw you from across the room and he thought the whole world stopped for just a second. Something that hasn’t happened in two years.

“I’m okay.” You answer, keeping it plain, not sure how else you’re really supposed to approach this.

“Good.” Jason nods his head, sucking in a breath as he looks out to the floor. Dick is laughing with someone in a group. “What a kiss ass.” Jason mutters.

Your brows furrow. “I recall you faking a handful of laughs at these a few times.” You remind him.

You catch a hint of a smile coming ot his lips. If he actually smiles, you’ll be doomed.

“Got me there, I guess.” Jason shrugs before looking back to you. “But it’s Dick.”

You catch a hint of a smile coming ot his lips. If he actually smiles, you’ll be doomed.

You nod. “Mhm.” You hum, taking a small drink from your glass.

It’s been two years since you’ve seen each other. Two years since you’ve spoken. You went from almost nightly hookups and sleeping together, speaking nearly all day when you could, best friends, to nothing. He was your favorite person, your best friend in the entire world and now it’s like he was nothing. He was just someone you knew. It hurt then.

But you’ve moved on.

“It’s uh, good to see you.” Jason lets the words fall from his lips.

“You, too.” You answer, still remaining a bit cold, not entirely trying to.

Maybe it hurts now, too.

Talking to him now is like picking open a scabbed wound.

Jason saw you the second you came in with Dick. He’s been watching you from a distance ever since and he finally gathered the courage to talk to you, knowing you could hold a grudge better than anyone. He knew you were still holding one against him given the zero contact and zero attempt. It was a risky move coming to talk to you and he’s not entirely sure what he wanted from the conversation. All he knows is that his heart is in his throat and his hands are sweaty. He wants to smile and his stomach is knots. He thinks he misses you more than he ver thought he could.

In the two years since he’s seen you, he’s had time to think about his decision. He’s had plenty of time to wallow in his regret and still not bear to even hold the courage to try and mend things. How could he possibly mend anything whe he knows he hurt you? He’s not supposed to hurt the people that care abut him even if that seems to be what ends up happening.

He didn’t mean to hurt you, just himself.

“How are you?” You finally ask and you don’t know why you do.

Maybe it’s a habit.

Maybe you do care.

“Good.” Jason answers quickly, clearing his throat. “Same old.”

“Good.” You nod softly, quickly raising your brows.

You swore you moved on. You swore you were done. You even dated a few people since and were happy in your relationships, barely thinking about him on occasion. You were happy. Not that he really gave you any choice since he never reached out to try and fix things. In fact, you’re almost entirely positive he’s even avoided you. But, he’s standing in front of you, a careful distance away to mind your personal space and it’s like every feeling you ever had for him gets thrown back to the surface.

How the fuck does he do that?

You shake your head. “Should probably get back to Dick.” You pick up the two drinks.

“Yeah, right.” Jason answers. “It was good to see ya.” Jason pulls a breath and musters a small smile.

Your breath catches in your throat. His smile was always something you admired.

“You too, Jason.” You give him a soft nod and you think see a grimace cross his face for a half a second with the use of his name, something you almost never called him.

Jason watches you walk back to Dick and he feels the aching in his chest. It’s been two years and he has to fight the urge to call and text you. He has to fight the urge to go to your apartment after patrol. It’s why he’s avoided anything and everything you were invited to. You’d never turn down your friend because of something that happened between him and you. That just wasn’t you. So, he avoided, trying to make it easier for you at the very least. But it’s been near torture him.

He misses you.

You go back to Dick, putting on a fake smile. The rest of the night you spend trying to forget your entire interaction with Jason. Talking and joking with Dick and the either bats doesn’t seem to help. Your mind always seems to wander back to Jason just as it did forever ago. This time though, instead of some sort of giddy smile and your mind feeling all mushy, it only feels sad and achy. You think you miss him more than you’ve convinced yourself.

By the time Dick takes you home, you’re exhausted from faking your way through conversations and a few laughs. The only thing you really want to do is eat something, turn on a comfort movie, and go to bed.

Pretend like you never ran into Jason.

It’s always a risk running into Jason whenever it’s something involving the bats. It’s why you don’t go to everything you’re invited to. You were friends, friends with benefits, but friends and somehow it’s always felt more like an actual break up than anything. Somehow you’re in the middle of him and his family half the time while having also been friends with them.

The game of avoidance is exhausting.

You change into something that’s actually comfortable and find yourself rummaging through your fridge, kicking yourself for not stopping at the store yesterday.

You were tired. It seemed too much work but it’s eleven at night and you don’t have much.

You settle for some toast and swear you’ll hit the store tomorrow.

After a few minutes of staring blankly at your toaster, your toast pops and you find yourself seated on your counter. It’s bland and not all too filly but you thin it’s better than not eating anything. Maybe by the time you’re done, you’ll feel a little better.

You scroll through your phone, mindlessly eating. It’s nothing unusual as you scroll through your feeds. A few photos from friends, a few cute cat videos, and an annoying ad every few posts. In all honesty, you find yourself content sitting here. That was, until you hear the sliding of your living room window.

Mid-bite you’re pausing, looking to your window as your heart runs to your throat.

You look over to the other side of your counter, clocking your full butcher block. Not ideal, you think. You can’t throw them with great accuracy. But your baseball bat is your room and your only other option is a pan from the cupboard below you.

You settle for the butcher knife, grabbing it as you hop off the counter.

“Get out!” You grind your teeth as the figure starts to come through your window.

“Hey to you, too.”

You roll your eyes, seeing Jason emerge from the window, helmet covering his face and distorting his voice.

Of course it’s him. You couldn’t just spend the rest of your evening trying to forget about him.

“What the hell are you doing crawling through my window?” You bite back.

In all honesty, you should have locked it. It’s been two years and leaving it unlocked is still such a habit and you can’t seem to break it. Something about maybe he gets hurt one day and he still chooses to come to you. You hate the thought.

“Why the fuck is your window unlocked?” Jason quips back.

You glare back at him. “Habit.” You state sternly.

“Do you want to put the knife down?” Jason asks, reaching behind his head to the take the helmet off.

“Depends.” You raise your brows at him more to just be difficult.

He’s made your night pretty unpleasant and difficult so you’re going to make his night the same.

He matches your stare, shifting his weight to his right foot as he holds his helmet on his hip. You make an annoyed and mocking face at him before you put the knife it’s rightful place. You still fold too easily around him.

“Go on.” You gesture a hand towards him.

You hope he gets whatever it is over with so you can just go to bed. Fuck your other plans. You’re so done with tonight.

Jason bites the inside of his cheek. He tried his best to muster up the courage to come over here. He intentionally came before patrol. This way, he could always back out and if this got ugly, he would have to leave anyway.

“Just wanted to know if we could talk.” Jason says and he dodges your eyes entirely.

Your brows pull together. “About?” You roll your eyes. “You could be more forthcoming.”

Jason knew you would not make this easy. None of this is easy. If he could even communicate the fact it was hard for him that would make this whole thing easier but that seems to stick to his throat. He’s run over everything he wanted to say ever since he watched you walk back to Dick a few hours ago. He thinks he has the whole memorized but you’re just watching him, looking more annoyed than he’s ever seen you before.

He’s forgotten everything he ever wanted to say to you.

“D’ya remember that night?” Jason blurts the question out before he has a chance to turn around. He regret the question the second it leaves his lips. “And I—“

“Kicked me out of your apartment and then never spoke to me until tonight? Yes.” You finish with a bitter spite in your tone.

This is what he wanted to talk about?

“I-, well was hopin’ I could explain.” Jason sucks in a breath and he shifts his weight again to his left foot.

“After two years, now you want to explain your actions?” Your eyes are wide and you’re trying to keep your voice down but it still hurts as much you want to deny it does.

Jason sees your jaw clench and your fist ball. You look absolutely furious with him and he knows he deserves it. He should have had this conversation that night or at the very least the next day or just not two years later. He feels like he’s intruding and he has no idea what to do. The last thing he wants to do is intrude. Why did he decide to do this?

“I know it sucks.” Jason says. “I saw ya tonight and I dunno.” Jason shrugs his shoulders. “Thought about it…a lot before, too.” His voice goes a little quiet. “I’m not good at this.”

There’s a part of you that almost wants to soften. It’s not that Jason is really loud or anything but his voice is usually a little rough, not necessarily “quiet”. He’s only ever really quiet when he has to be or when he’s trying to get himself to talk about something he does not want to, around you anyway. It’s a trait you picked up on not too long into your friendship. At he time, you wished he didn’t feel the need to make himself quiet or small in order to say what he was thinking. You don’t know how you feel about it now but you don’t want to feel whatever this ache in your chest is.

“Well fucking try, Jason.” You cross your arms deciding to fight the ache with a bite.

“I was just scared.” He confesses and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him sound so small.

That’s not fair. He’s the one that hurt you. He’s the one that didn’t call after everything and now you’re standing here wanting to hug him and tell him that it’s okay. He doesn’t do it on purpose. Despite it all, you are certain Jason would never guilt you on purpose. But, you still feel guilty because you know him. You know nearly everything there is to know about him.

But it fucking hurts and you were scared, too.

“Do you think I wasn’t?” You question, your voice harsh and pained. “And I had good reason, apparently.” You spit back and you don’t know why you say it.

Jason thinks this whole thing was a bad idea. There has not been a day he doesn’t wish he could take it back. He knows it hurt you and he misses you. But, hearing that you should have been scared to tell him something makes him feel like you’re ripping his heart out of his chest. He thinks this is something how you must have felt that night.

Jason groans. “You told me you had feelings for me and I fucking didn’t know what to do! I’m not good for you!” He tries to defend himself, scrambling for any part of his original speech to come back to him. “Thought we could just…do what we were doing and you’d find someone else.” His voice almost sounds defeated.

“That’s such a load of shit.” You fire back. “I didn’t want anyone else! I wanted you!” Your hands move out in front of you as if that will get your point across.

“Fuck,” He lets out an exasperated groan. “I was fucking scared I’d fuck it up with you or you’d get hurt for being with me. I didn’t want to risk that!” Jason shakes his head and looks to the floor. There are no excuses for the way he hurt you. “I knew I’d fuck it up.”

“So what are you saying?” You shrugs your shoulders, trying to get him to get to the point.

“I-I have feelings for you, too.” Jason nearly swallows his own vocal chords.

That sends you right over the edge. You’re somewhere between pissed and in agony. How dare he come to you and confess after two years? You moved on. You have been dating and getting on with your life. You have friends that are not him or the bats. Now, he wants to show up and suddenly tell you this? And then he wants to say it’s because you deserve better. What does he know? If he knew anything, he’d know none of it mattered to you in the first place. Every doubt he ever had about himself, you didn’t care about because you always knew he was good and enough and deserving. And that actually hurts because he can’t see himself the way you always saw him. Why could he never see himself the way you saw him?

“No! You don’t get to show up two years later and suddenly tell me you like me. That’s not fair! I have moved on from you!” You scream back, not able to hold back anymore. “I told you I liked you and you told me that you couldn’t fucking do it! You kicked me out! You kicked me out of your life! That’s not fucking fair.” You can feel your voice crack as tears well behind your eyes. “You broke me and you never even apologized for it.” Your voice comes back down and you can feel your heart nearly wanting to break through your ribs.

“I-I’m sorry.” Jason’s voice is soft and small. He didn’t mean to not even apologize. He didn’t know it hurt that badly. He couldn’t even imagine it would. He should have known. “I fucking swear I am. I didn’t mean to.”

“Well you did. You couldn’t have a conversation with me to explain it. You just…cut me out of your life like I was nothing. Do you have any idea how badly that hurt?” You question and the anger is starting to flood away with heartbreak.

“Please,” Jason tries. “You should be mad but…I…I do miss you.”

It’s something you’ve wanted to hear for a long time. Sometimes, you’d think he’d show up out of the blue and tell you he misses you. He wouldn’t be in love with you or anything like that but he’d come by and he’d miss you. You’d be friends again and go back to some sort of normal. He’d be in your life again but that day never came. Not until now and it doesn’t feel the way you were hoping it would. All it does is hurt.

“I miss you, too.” Your voice is small as it cracks because you do miss him. “But that doesn’t make any of this okay.” You shake your head with the soft shrug of your shoulders.

“Just want you back even if it’s friends.” Jason feels the burning behind his eyes and he doesn’t deserve your forgiveness. You’re right and he knows you are. “I’m sorry.”

You were friends for years before you even started the friends with benefits thing. You do miss him. As much as he’s hurt you, you would very much like to have him in your life again. Jason struggles sometimes with things and this is one of those things. You know. But, that doesn’t mean you should have to be someone who gets hurt because of it. As much as you want him back in your life, it’s something you don’t think you can answer at the moment.

“I’m gonna have to think on it, Jason.” You let out a sigh.

Jason nods softly, feeling absolutely crushed and defeated. “Okay.”

“You should go.” You say it softly, holding back tears and every urge you have to work it out. You’re too angry, too annoyed, too sad, and still too infatuated with him to think straight.

“I’m sorry.” Jason offers once more as he walks back to the window.

He slides on his helmet and just like that, he’s gone.