#im just stuck in this position where im like i don't know what to do i clearly am doing something to put myself in these situations without

[toontowncreepypasta]

im like oumas whole “i HATE liars i detest them i hope they all kill themselves (literally can’t tell the truth to save his life)” except instead of lying its hating

[yoshistory]

oh my god 15 days left at this job and im hearing word that at the last minute they're trying to snake back and barter to keep me after i've already mentally fucked off. fuuuuuck

[envy-of-the-apple]

The Monster You Know

Dark!Gojo Satoru x reader

Synopsis: For your own safety, the strongest sorcerer of today kidnaps you.

Word Count: 6.9k

(Warnings: implied masturbation, implied nsfw, implied noncon recording, death of a minor character.....im pretty sure i missed a warning so lemme know any pls)

Instead of waking up in a bed, you find yourself on the floor.

It's not a comfortable spot to sleep in. The carpet is clean, but it's odd because you don't have this type of carpet in your room. Actually, this isn't your room at all. 

But the panic doesn't really set in until you realize your arms are bound. 

You don't notice him until he speaks. You're too busy yanking on the metal, pulling your hand as hard as you could. The cuffs don't even budge. 

"If you keep yanking your arms like that, you might break 'em." 

He's tall, rivaling the door he just walked through. He looks a couple of years older than you, but his white hair can't be natural, not at his age. His blue eyes are lax. The worst part is how relaxed he looks. He has an eased posture and a pretty smile. He's amused, watching you like you’re a pesky mouse trapped in a bucket. 

You don’t know him. You’re stuck in an unfamiliar room, chained to the floor, and you don’t know this man. 

Escape isn’t possible. So you resort to the next best thing: you plead. 

“Who are you?” Your voice is light and wavers on every syllable. “Where-Where am I? Did you bring me here? Please don’t-“

”You always this talkative in the morning?” He dodges your question with a lax grin. “Anyway, uh, sorry about this-“ he gestures to your tied-up form “-I would've used a talisman, but those won’t work on you for obvious reasons. The handcuffs aren’t too tight, are they?” 

He steps closer, and you scream. It’s shrill, filled with a type of fear that makes your blood freeze because you don’t know this man, you don’t know where you are, and he’s getting closer. 

“Okay okay, I get it!” He manages to say over your pleas for help, but he steps back, and it’s enough to quiet your fear. “Obviously, you need some more time alone, so I’m gonna give you a couple more hours. Feel free to take a mint!” He cheerily points to the nightstand. 

He leaves as quickly as he enters. The door shuts but doesn’t lock. You’d be relieved if you weren’t still incapacitated. 

You look around the room. Nothing of value, nothing that you could reach and grab. Apart from a chair, the only other pieces of furniture were a heavy-looking bed and a bolted-down nightstand. Your kidnapper was certainly meticulous. 

The restraints have just enough slack for you to lean over. You peer at the nightstand. A plastic bowl, too flimsy to be made into a weapon. It contains wrapped-white candies. You gingerly pick one up. 

They’re sugar-free. 

He returns to the mints scattered all over the floor. 

“Okay.” He notes, gracefully stepping over the mess. “Clearly, you aren’t a fan of peppermint. 'you a wintergreen kinda’ person?” 

You don’t look at him. You’ve been in the same position you had been in for hours, sitting curled on the floor. By then, your desperation was starting to show through. 

“Please just let me go.” You mutter, your voice so low, it’s a miracle he can hear you. “I don’t have any money. I have nothing to offer.”

”Well, that’s good because I don’t want your money.” He says. “I know this looks pretty bad, but this is for your sake more than mine.”

You look at him just as he squats down to your height. You shift away. he smiles.

”Do you know what sorcerer's are?” 

You blink. 

“It’s fine if you don’t; we all start somewhere, right? A sorcerer is someone who can manipulate cursed energy. I’m a sorcerer! I don’t wanna brag too much, but I’m pretty good at it.” 

He laughs like he’s telling a joke, and you suddenly realize that you were kidnapped by someone who believes he’s a wizard. 

“Guess you’re still lost, huh? How about I just show you instead?” He points to an ironed-out shirt hanging on a rack. You follow his finger. 

He didn't move. There was no machinery. The shirt just crinkled by itself before it dropped to the floor. 

You gape. The man grins. 

"Pretty amazing, right? That's cursed energy, or, my power if you wanna be less technical." 

"Cursed energy." You whisper, a repetition of his words rather than any actual understanding. He beams regardless. 

"Yeah! Well, it's a little more complicated than that, but let's just start with the basics for now. Baby steps." 

Your dread doesn't fade. Earlier, you feared what a man could do to you, tied and defenseless. Now, you wondered what this man wouldn't do to you. 

"Okay, then....why?" You warily ask him. "Why tell me any of this? What's the point?" 

"An excellent question!" He commends you, as though he were your teacher and not your jailor. "See, cursed energy is a bit complicated, but it's extremely effective. In almost every case, it's the solution. Except for you." 

You shrink back. 

"What-what does that mean?"

His grin turns feline. He's enjoying this; seeing you shake, waver beneath his eyes. 

"Exactly what I said: you aren't affected by cursed energy. A sorcerer could use their technique on you, and there won't even be a scratch on your body. You're basically the Eraserhead of the Jujutsu World." 

You stare at him. He hums, drumming his fingers on his thigh. 

"I'm not great at explanations. How about we just have a hands-on experience?" 

He extends his hands. A purple orb crackles to life, slowly gaining mass. 

"Not too big," he says, though it's clear he isn't speaking to you, "don't wanna wreck the room." 

He adjusts his angle so it's facing you. Your eyes widen, and the desperation to wrangle yourself out of the handcuffs grows stronger. 

"Wait, stop!" You pleads fall on deaf ears. "Okay okay. I believe you. I believe you-" He flicks his fingers. You close your eyes just before impact. 

You expected something. Electricity, a shock. Pain. Your body being eviscerated in milliseconds. 

Nothing. Not even a gust of wind. 

When your eyes open, he's grinning at you. 

"See?" He says, "Not even a scratch." 

He's right. Your clothes aren't even rustled, but the evidence is there. The carpet below you is shaved and cleaned off. And the wall closest to you has cracks on it.

You look back up at him. 

"I said I believed you." 

He shrugs. "Doesn't hurt to make sure we're on the same page." His smile is starting to look less scary and more annoying. 

Your mind still struggles to keep up with all the information you've been given. The typhoon of anxiety is coursing through you. 

"So, then....why this?" You mention to the handcuffs. 

"Just a little confirmation you won't go crazy and destroy the place." He supplies happily. "If jujutsu doesn't work on you, then bindings and talismans definitely won't do a thing. Looking back, abduction probably wasn't the greatest idea in the world. I would've figured something else out, but time wasn't on our side in this case. Especially if we wanted you alive." 

You pale at that. He notices. 

"What, you thought I'd be the only person who noticed you? You're an anomaly. In our world, that's dangerous. Also, the bounty on your head is a pretty nice incentive for people to get the job done." 

"A bounty?"

He grins, and the number he gives makes your mouth hang open. 

"Yup, pretty crazy, right? Anyway, until everything settles down, you and I are roomies!" He claps. "Isn't that exciting!?" 

You glance at him. Then, in the room. Then, at your cuffs. Everything was going so fast. The only constant was him. 

"So, I'm not really a prisoner?" You ask. "I could just...leave, right?" 

"Sure you could. If you hear all that and still wanna go, I won't stop you. Promise." He nods. "But you'd be dead as soon as you step out of the apartment." 

It's not a threat. It's a promise. And not from him. That makes it worse. 

This is insane. All of this is insane; who'd believe any of it? But his powers....that can't be faked. As well as everything that he told you. Why would he lie? What reason could he have to deceive you? 

"Okay," you say hesitantly, "just one more thing." 

The man leans in. 

"What's your name?" 

He smiles. 

Becoming Gojo's roommate was an easy transition. 

You’ve always been someone who goes with the flow. Becoming someone's consenting captive isn't a struggle once you get used to it. A few days in and you and your 'captor' have fallen into an easy rhythm. It's easy to grow trusting of him, especially when there are others who can vouch for him. 

"You should be arrested." Ieiri mumbles, checking your wrists. 

"What? I can't believe you're upset with me." Gojo responds though he doesn't sound very panicked. "I was desperate!" 

Ieiri shakes her head, continuing wrapping your wrists. Amid your panic during the first few hours in Gojo's apartment, you managed to sprain your wrists, trying to yank yourself out of the handcuffs. You wince when she presses on your bruised skin. 

"Sorry," she says, voice flat. You smile anyway. 

Ieiri was also a sorcerer, but she had a different technique. Instead of Gojo's destruction, hers revolved around healing. You've never really seen it in action ("My technique won't work on you; even then, it's a sprained wrist. You'll live."), but it sounded pretty powerful. 

"I'm not upset." Ieiri continues. "But I'm surprised you're going along with all this." That sentence is directed at you. 

You shrug while trying to keep still for her. "He was pretty convincing." 

Ieiri raises a brow, before ultimately deciding she doesn't care. 

"Again, I'm very sorry about all this." Ijichi pipes up. Ever since he entered Gojo's flat, he's been doing nothing but begging for your forgiveness for Gojo's abrupt actions. Apologetic, but not very shocked. You're assuming this isn't the first time Gojo has done something like this. 

Gojo's allies were very different from each other, you ultimately decided. 

“We thought we’d have more time to approach you,” he continues with a nervous smile, “we never expected the clans to move so quickly.” 

“Clans?” You ask, “What clans?” 

Ijichi gives Gojo a look. Gojo looks away, whistling. Eventually, Ijichi’s shoulders drop. 

“Some minor clans with dwindling jujitsu sorcerers.” He gives. “And then the bounty happened and well…” he trails off. 

You nod. “So, when will everything go back to normal?”

Gojo grins. Ieiri sighs. It’s Ijichi who gives the most concrete response. 

You look at the three of them. “Or will things ever go back to normal?”

”It’s hard to say,” Ijichi says, “news travels fast in the jujutsu world, but it’s not improbable. Miyashiro will let us know eventually.” 

"Miyashiro?” 

To answer your question, Ijichi pulls out his phone. You stare at a picture of yourself. But you know you’ve never been in that restaurant before. 

“It’s his technique.” Ijichi tells you. “Flesh manipulation. For the time being, Miyashiro will pose as you and can hopefully air out any potential bounty hunters. He’s the perfect man for the job.” 

You nod, a bit skeptical. “Isn’t this a bit dangerous? Aren’t people trying to kill me?” 

Ijichi tucks away his phone. “Miyashiro is one our best. He'll be fine.” He assures. 

Satisfied with your answers, you nod. Ieiri pulls away after she finishes wrapping your hand. Gojo claps his hands together. 

“See, roomie? You’re in great hands!” He chirps. You nod, if only to seem compliant. 

Apart from Gojo himself, Ieiri and Ijichi are the only ones who know about your predicament, his most trusted people. The rest of the world is unaware that there's someone posing as you, nor that you've gone into hiding. Not your friends. Not even your family. ("It's for the best," Ijichi explained when you voiced your worries, "but we promise, once the bounty is down, we'll return you back to your life. It'll be like nothing ever happened.").

Settling in barely takes a week. Gojo's nice enough to lend you his room, more than happy to set up in the living room. Despite how you two 'met', he's quickly proven to be a nice guy. 

Nice. Just nice. 

To be honest, you don't know all that much about Gojo. He's letting you stay in his home, but you don't see him all that much. Gojo is gone pretty much all day. Sometimes, he's gone for days on end. The apartment feels more like yours than his. 

"I'm the strongest." He told you when you asked. You don't know what he means by that, so you didn't pry. 

Despite the awkwardness, you don't mind the distant relationship. The man probably has his day packed with hunting down demons and this school he talked about. 

The change doesn't happen until two weeks after you move in. 

You weren't allowed to have a phone, nor any internet access, so you mostly spent your time doing hobbies. You've always wanted to learn to crochet, and now you finally had time to actually learn. Drawing also took some hours out of your day. And eventually, you moved onto cooking. 

Ijichi was more than happy to grab you the grocery items when you asked. When you insisted on paying him back, he declined profusely. He was actually the one who organized getting your things and really moving you in. You have another thing you owe these people. 

Cooking was a steep learning curve. Before, you'd only made simple sandwiches and curries, so the food starting out wasn't the best. But you enjoyed the journey more, rather than the end result. Pretty soon, you became pretty good at it. 

Gojo wasn't home often these days, so you jump when the front door clicks open. He takes off that blindfold he's always wearing, blinking a couple times before his blue gaze settles on you in the kitchen. 

"What's all this?" He cocks his head. He isn't smiling. 

Oh no. You remembered getting permission to use his kitchen, but maybe he hadn't expected you to go this far? The kitchen is a mess. There's flour everywhere. You still hadn't washed the cutting board, nor the knives. 

"I'm sorry," you say, "I-I can clean up and-" 

He waves his hand. "It's fine. I'm not mad, I just..." He drifts off. 

You suddenly have a feeling that you might've misread this entire situation. 

"Would you like some?" You ask. "I think I made too much." 

"I could eat," he says.

You smile. 

A few moments later, the two of you are settled on the table. Gojo's never been so quiet before. In the short time you've known him, he's always been boisterous and playful. Now, he's silent. Staring at the food. 

You hold your breath when he takes his first bite. 

"It's good." He says, his mouth full. It's cute. "Really, really good. Damn." 

You laugh out of nerves. 

"You think so? I'm glad! It was my first time trying out this recipe and I wasn't sure if it'd turn out well and..." you're rambling, you know that. You can't help yourself. 

"No, it's good. Real good," he says. It's silent again, but not as uncomfortable this time. The only thing you hear is the clanking of silverware and the hum of the lights. Outside the window, the city lights twinkle. 

You're on your last bite when he speaks again. 

"'been a while since I've had a homecooked meal." He starts with a slight laugh. "Kinda' forgot what it's like." 

You think of the fridge. How it was only ever stacked with protein shakes and instant meals. Gojo was a sorcerer. The strongest. You think you get what that means now. 

"I wouldn't mind doing this more often," you say. 

He looks at you with the prettiest blue you've ever seen. The color of a bright cloudless sky. 

"I think I'd like that." 

Who ever said the phrase 'the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach' was onto something. Your friendship with Gojo bloomed after that night. On the seldom nights he came home, dinner was made and sitting on the table. It took a few days for the two of you to warm up enough to talk to each other. Once Gojo got going, it was a lot harder to shut him up. He talked about his school, his work as a teacher for other jujutsu sorcerers. You liked the way he talked about his students. Nothing but pride and affection .

On the nights he didn't come home, you'd save the leftovers in the fridge. They were usually gone by the morning. 

He was around a lot more after that night. Not that you minded, it was his house. You just didn't get a few things about him. For example, that blindfold of his. Why wear it when it was clear he couldn't see with it on? 

You decide to bring it up the third time he nearly runs you over.

"It's part of my technique." He explains. "The six eyes. They're basically cursed energy x-rays. The blindfold just limits their strength." 

You were lounged on the sofa watching TV while he was plopped right next to you. He's switched his blindfold for his glasses. 

"Oh," you say when it clicks, "and since I block people's abilities you..." 

"Yup! Can't see you at all!" Gojo happily fills in. "It doesn't help that you're so quiet. Maybe I should put a bell on you." 

You laugh, but it doesn't sound like he was joking. 

"What's it like?" You ask, turning to him, "Seeing the way, you see? What-what do you see?"

"Everything." Gojo shrugs. 

You frown. "That's not very descriptive." 

He laughs. "Here, wanna try?" He takes off his glasses, handing them over. "These things are real popular with the ladies." 

He's avoiding the question, but you don't bother chasing him for it. Instead, you grab the lenses, pulling them over your eyes. You expect to see the secrets of the universe. Instead, you see nothing but darkness. Though, that might be the point.  

"Everything, hm?" You ask, when you take them off. "That sounds exhausting." 

He takes them back with a grin. "It is! My eyes hurt so so much! You should pity me and make matcha tiramisu." 

You laugh, drawing back. "That's what this is about? To guilt trip me into making dessert for you?" 

"Did it work?" 

You think for a moment.

"Get me the ingredients, and I'll see." 

He cheers but doesn't fully answer your question until the episode ends when you've bid him goodnight and are about to return to the bedroom. 

"You're blurry from far away." 

When you look at him, his glasses are gone, tucked under his collar. It's night, but the sky still stares down at you. His usual smile is gone, stretched into a line you can't place. 

"I can see down to molecules, atoms. Not you." 

You look at him, his eyes. The beautiful curse they are. 

You force yourself to take the first step. Then another. Then another. When you're right in front of him, when he's towering over you, you open to your mouth. 

"What do you see, Gojo?" 

"Everything." He honestly replies. 

Everything. Not just cursed energy. Down to cells, molecules, atoms. You can't fathom how much that is, the essence of everything. What's that like? Being able to see the universe so much that it hurts? So much so that it makes him want to wear a blindfold and never see anything again. 

But you're blurry. Gojo can't see you the way he sees others. 

You reach your hands up slowly like you're approaching a wild animal. In some ways, maybe that's what Gojo is: unpredictable, able to wield the power of space—power that's useless against you. 

You cover his eyes. He doesn't stop you. 

"What do you see, Satoru?" 

He doesn't speak, and you're afraid he's forgotten how. 

"Nothing." Quiet, barely more than a whisper.

He slouches ever so slightly, leaning into your hands like some weight's been lifted. It makes you smile. 

When you try to pull your hands away, his wrap around your wrist, keeping you there. So you stay—for as long as he wants. 

It starts something of a tradition between the two of you. Not every night, not even most nights, but every so often, Satoru would grow quiet, shift in a particular way. You hoped it was therapeutic for him, a break rather than a glimpse of what could have been. You hoped you were helping. 

And, if you were torturing him, hopefully, you won't be for long. 

"How much longer do you think I have to do this?" You ask. 

He hums, clearly not paying attention. You two were in the kitchen, making some sweet he saw trending on the internet. Well, you were doing all the work. Satoru kept trying to steal the batter. 

"You know. Sleeping under your roof, eating all your food, stealing you bed." You urge, while whisking. 

"You're acting like I've been keeping you in the attic, roomie." Satoru pouts. "C'mon, I haven't been that bad, have I?" 

"I'm asking for your sake rather than mine," you tell him. "I'm sure you'll be thrilled to have your house back, and your bed. When will everything settle down?" 

His blindfold is on, as it usually is. To help him out, you've taken to wearing squeaky slippers around the house. He'd offered to buy you one of those cat collars with bells. You declined. 

He's looking in your direction. You know he can't see you, but you can still feel his eyes on you. It's a strange feeling. 

"There's talks of taking down the bounty," Satoru finally says, losing his playful tone, "just rumors, nothing concrete. Worst comes to worst, we'll have to relocate you somewhere overseas." 

Yeah, you were worried about that. Leaving everything behind, your home, your friends, your family, because your life was in danger. You hoped it wouldn't have to come to that. 

"We have a couple of options, though," Satoru says, "negotiations, for one." 

You perk up at that. "Negotiations?" You ask. 

He nods. "Right now, you're under my protection. Unofficially. I could pull some strings, get those old geezers at the academy to take you in as some special assistant." 

You tilt your head. "Like at the school that you teach, right?" 

He nods. "We have a case like yours attending the school, too. I think you and him would get along." 

"Your ability could be pretty useful to us. You might even get out in the field every so often." Satoru continues. "A special technique like that would be wasted down here." 

Special. He's said that before. You can't remember when, but you know he's right. You're an anomaly, but you can use your abilities for good. But could you really do that? Risk your life every day? Lose pieces of yourself like that?

"I don't really feel special," you say, "I don't want to be special either." You glance at him. "Is that a bad thing?" 

Even blindfolded, somehow, his eyes find yours. 

"No," he says, no judgment in his voice, "it just makes you human." 

Relief. You can feel it sinking through your veins. Part of you feels guilty. Satoru is right; you could do a lot. But you...you don't want to end up like him. 

That makes you feel even worse, but then you catch something in his tone. 

"You sound like you're not very human," you say back. You're teasing, but it falls flat. 

He hums. It's not quite the response you were looking for. It takes a second for him to start up again. 

"When I was younger, people used to call me creepy." 

You stare at him. 

"What?." 

He grins, but it's not his usual one. 

"It's true." He shrugs. "Mostly, it was 'cause of my eyes. They called them unnerving. Monstrous. My folks were always a creative bunch." He says it so casually, but you can hear the bite on his voice. It's phrased as a joke, but it isn't.

You put down your whisk, giving him your full attention. 

"That's not true," you respond, "you know that, right? You aren't a monster. Monsters aren't as kind as you are." 

"Oh?" He tilts his head. "Maybe I'm using my kindness as a lure to trap you. Guess you just fell for it, roomie. 'thought you were smarter than that." You roll your eyes. 

"Okay, fine, I yield. You're a monster. But out of all the monsters in the world, I'd pick you." 

For a moment, there's silence in the kitchen. Then- 

"So cheesy!" Satoru laughs. He reaches over, roughly pinching your cheek. "Who knew you could say such cute things, roomie." 

You slap his hands away, now extremely annoyed. 

"Nevermind. I take it back," you retort. "I'd run away as far as I could from you." 

"Good, you should," he replies. "I won't stop you." 

You scoff. 

"Maybe that's why everyone thought you were creepy." You go back to your whisking. "It's not your eyes, you just say a lot of ominous shit." 

Despite how peaceful it is, making desert, cooking, and acting domestic, it can't last forever. The world was still hunting for you, and it had no problems reminding you of that. 

One night, you wake up to the sounds of hushed talking. 

It's coming from the living room. Multiple voices. Quiet but urgent. You're used to the noise. Satoru has this habit of blasting terrible soap operas at 2 am. You don't think that man sleeps. Over time, you've gotten used to at least one disturbance. 

But this feels different. It's enough to rub the sleep out of your eyes, making you pad over to the hall. 

They hear you before they see you. Satoru's apartment has creaky floorboards. Ijichi tugs on the collar of his shirt nervously. Ieiri just looks away. Satoru is leaning back against the couch, legs crossed. He's frowning. That's how you know something isn't right. 

"Is everything okay?" You ask anyway. 

Ijichi gives a tight grin. 

"Everything's fine." He's quick to console. "We-we were just-" 

"Stop." Satoru immediately cuts in. He's wearing his blindfold. You can't tell what he's thinking. 

"We're not hiding it. Everyone involved should know." 

Ijichi deflates. You think Ieiri sneers. 

Satoru beckons you closer with long fingers. You step forward. They're sitting around a computer. You peek at the screen.

Instantly, you wish you hadn't. 

There were pictures of you. Dead. Your body parts were strewn across the floor. Your hands were broken in every other way. Your legs were in pieces. Your head snapped clean off, blood oozing from your appendages like you were just a packet of liquid. One of your eyes was missing from its socket. The other was crushed. But it wasn't you, it was- 

"Miyashiro. At least, what's left of him." Satoru gives.  

The doppelganger, the guy who was covering for you. He was supposed to be one of their best; what happened to him? 

What was going to happen to you? 

They're talking again. At least, you think they are. Their words are muffled, filtered through water. You can't make out what anyone is saying. Your heart's beating too fast. It's pounding through your ears. You can only stare at the picture, what was left of him. Someone's touching you. A hand on your back. 

"Roomie, hey," Satoru's voice comes.

The pounding stops. You look up at him. 

Angelic. It's the only word you could think of. His snow-white hair was pretty, falling elegantly down his face. He'd taken his blindfold off. Blue eyes, sparkling, cleansing. Purifying, like the Ganges river. 

How could anyone think a beautiful sight like this was monstrous? 

He calls your name, your real name, and you break. 

You cling to him, wrapping your arms around his waist. And you're sobbing, tears of everything flowing down your face. 

Hands, hesitant, unsure, rest on your back. And then Satoru's holding you as tightly as he can.

He's warm. It's all you can think as you shake in his hold. 

He's warm. 

"I won't have to worry about that if I just gave in, hm?" You ask. 

It was a couple of days later from your episode. Satoru had convinced you to give one of his soap operas a shot. On-screen, a woman slapped her cheating husband. 

Satoru was lounging beside you, feet propped up on the coffee table. You want to tell him off, but it's his house. 

"If you went to the school, you mean?" He asks. "Probably. You'd be a lot freer. Won't have to sit in a cramped apartment all day. 'sides, jujutsu tech is always on the lookout for fresh talent. The higher-ups would be ecstatic to have someone like you under their thumb." 

"But I'd have to become a sorcerer." You say the unspoken. 

Gojo nods. "Yeah, you would." 

And you don't want that. To face curses, to face death every day. You know you can't handle that. You aren't strong, like Satoru. 

"I'm sorry," you say. 

He laughs. "For what?" 

You shrug as the on-screen couple makes up again. "For being...a coward, I guess."

He thinks for a moment. 

"It's not about bravery," he says in the end, "being a sorcerer is just...that. A sorcerer. It's a job. A title. Only a special few can do it. The crazy ones." 

His tone gets a bit playful. 

"No offense, roomie, but I don't think you got enough crazy in you." 

"That's a compliment, actually." You correct. He ignores you. 

"'sides, I like you staying here." Satoru declares, stretching his arms out on the couch. "Who'd feed me? It'd be horrible to go back to ramen again." 

You roll your eyes. "Right. Who else will wake at 2 am because of your whining to make wagashi?" 

"See! You get it!" Satoru grins. You can't force the smile off your face. 

The husband's mistress has entered the set. The wife is confident that her husband will choose her. She's left heartbroken all over again. You don't get how she couldn't see it. The red flags were all there, and still, she was left blindsided. Never saw it coming. She trusts too easily, you decided. 

"Also, I like having you here," Satoru says. 

You glance at him. He's watching the screen. 

"It's...nice." He admits after a bit. "To have company like this. It reminds me of back when I was younger. When the two of us lived in the dorms." 

When he was a student? Who was he talking about? You don't pry. It's clear he isn't talking to you. 

"I'm glad you're here," Satoru says. 

Lightly, you bump shoulders with him. Infinity doesn't stop you. 

"You're a sweet monster." You tell him. 

He gives a secret grin. 

Every once in a while, Gojo peeks into the bedroom while you're sleeping. 

He's subtle about it, doesn't make too much noise. You're a light sleeper, so it takes little to nothing to wake you up. 

He doesn't do anything. He stands there, shuffles here and there, hovering by the foot of the bed. You just pretend to be asleep in those cases, evening out your breaths, closing your eyes. It's always the same. He loiters around for a minute, and then he's shutting the door behind him. 

It's strange, but you try not to think too much of it. He was probably looking for something. It's his room after all. 

It's just...strange. 

You find it when you're looking through his book shelf. 

He doesn't have anything interesting to read. It's mainly just historical novels. You're perusing through one before a photograph falls out of the pages. 

It's tiny, barely larger than your palm. It only takes a second to realize what you're looking at. 

"Found your baby pictures." You gleefully tell Satoru when he comes back. 

"What?" He tilts his head; you wave the photo in front of him. When he tries to take it, you pull back. 

"Tiny Satoru!" You squeal. "Who knew you were once so small? I always thought you were born six feet over." 

It's a simple photograph, a little aged, but still clear. Satoru looks about eight, standing between a man and a woman. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. He isn't wearing sunglasses or a blindfold. Doll-like blue eyes. You don't feel like you're looking at a child. He's too-

"Are those your parents?" You ask, letting him take the photograph from you. 

"No," he says, "my caretakers." 

Caretakers. Not nannies, or anything else. It felt so clinical. You lean against his shoulder, still staring at the photograph. 

"You look cute." You finally say. When you peak over, a hint of a smile is twitching on his face. "But I totally agree with everyone. You look creepy. Like one of those children from the exorcist. Climbing over the walls." 

"I never grew out of that phase." Satoru ponders. You laugh. 

"What was it like?" You ask. "You said you're from a clan, right?" 

"Exhausting." Satoru groans. "Never a break from training. I should go back and sue my folks for child abuse. I could get millions." 

"I could help you with that." You pipe in. "I've never gone to law school, but I feel like I'd make a great lawyer." 

"I'll keep that in mind." He promises teasingly before his smile fades. 

"But that's the norm for most kids in jujutsu." He sighs. "Gotta' be perfect. Gotta' be the best, right from the beginning. There's a student I know who had a rough start, but she's the best in her class. Her clan didn't care about her potential. Those kids are all scary talented, they just need a bit of nurturing, that's all." 

You stare at him. He catches you. 

"What?" He asks, before his eyes widen. "Do I have a pimple?" 

You shake your head. "For some reason, I feel like that's impossible for you." You tease.

"I'm just admiring you, I think. For being such a kind person." 

"I thought we agreed I was a monster." Satoru points out. 

This again. You roll your eyes. 

"Fine, a good monster." You correct. "A monster, I know." 

"The monster you know." He repeats

You want to ask him why he's so insistent on that. For some reason, you hold your voice. 

Satoru's apartment had two bathrooms. Lately, the one in the bedroom has had some issues. 

It's been awkward lately trying to share the only working bathroom. Satoru and you shower at around the same time, so you've opted to hold back your morning routine a little later. You still manage to catch each other. The amount of times you've accidentally caught him walking around with nothing but a towel around his waist would be too mortifying to admit. 

But, so far, it's working. And you can't complain since you at least have one working bathroom. It's the little things. 

Tonight, you wake up to your bladder urging you to move. And yet, your body still wants to sleep. You check the time. It's nearly 2 in the morning.

It takes a while to pull yourself up, unraveling yourself from the covers before you're trudging out the bedroom. Satoru's apartment is so dark. It's a completely different look compared to daytime. You feel your way with the walls, letting your eyes adjust to the dark. When you peek over at the living room, Satoru isn't there. He must not be coming home tonight. 

The bathroom is shut, but there's a sliver of light bleeding under the door. Fuck, you did not shut the lights off last time. You need to be less careless. 

At first, you think Satoru's hurt. 

He looks hurt. He's hunched over, shaking shoulders, harsh breathing. You can only see his back, but he looks like he's in agony. You're about to step forward, ask what happened, and then you catch a glimpse of what he's clutching. 

Pretty, blue, laced panties. 

Your panties. 

And you're close enough to hear his voice whispering your name. Over and over again. 

"Fuck, fuck, baby, need you, just lemme-just lemme, all mine, all mine-"

He doubles over, tightening his grip on the edge of the sink. Your panties are damp. 

You flinch, and in your moment of panic, you step back. Creaky floorboards. 

Satoru looks up in the mirror. You don't move. 

He takes his time. Placing his phone down. Adjusting his pants, washing his hands. You can only stand there, frozen. Staring. Staring until he's in front of you, looking right back. 

You might have forgiven him if he had fumbled, laughed it off, became bashful. A human reaction. His face is eerily blank. He stares with no emotion, not even a smile. His eyes mirror that photograph. Doll-like, absolutely empty. 

Monstrous. 

Your eyes water. He turns blurry for a second. 

Satoru steps aside. You wordlessly enter the bathroom, shutting the door behind you. You don't bother locking. 

You don't know how long you stay there, quiet, shaking, your mind trying to piece together what you just saw. You stay there for hours. You stay there for seconds. Time stretches on like infinity itself, yet even then, it's too short. 

You're alone with him. It's a thought you never even had until now. You're alone with him. 

Satoru is outside. You don't look at him, staring at the floor, looking at the carpet, counting each strand. You keep your head down when you return to the bedroom. 

He follows. You say nothing. You don't look. You don't look, even when the covers shift and he gets into bed behind you. You don't look, even when there's a hand on your shoulder. You don't look, even when there's a chest pressed against your back. 

You shiver, you shake. You don't look. He says nothing, even when you break down completely. 

You wake up alone the next morning. 

You don't waste a second. You're stumbling through the room, picking up your clothes, packing everything that you need. You're so panicked that you manage to knock over an alarm clock. 

It's habit to reach down and pick it up. Learned politeness to scrutinize it to make sure it isn't broken. 

A black dot stares back at you. 

A camera. 

Horrible memories of last night come back. He was watching something on his phone. 

You feel nauseous, about to give all over the floor. You need to go. You needed to get out of there. 

The apartment is silent, like it always is when Satoru isn't here. You just hadn't noticed how cold it was, lifeless. It makes the pit on your stomach gap. You expect the windows to be bolted shut. They aren't. Sunlight streams through the glass. The front door is unbarred too. 

It's easy to leave. 

You stop anyway. One question. 

Where would you go? 

You can't go back home. Miyashiro's body still haunts you. His soul in your body, torn apart with such hatred and vitriol. Those people were still looking for you. The only reason you were still alive was because Miyashiro took your death bed. 

You'd die if you went back home. 

You can't go to jujutsu tech. You'd be expected to lay down your life, serve a maskless force that pretended to do good. You'd certainly die. Ripped apart by curses. 

You'd be slaughtered if you went to the school.

Every route is treacherous, nearly impossible, full of dangers and unknowns. 

At least, you know what Satoru wants. 

He's made it clear since the beginning. You were just willfully ignorant. Oblivious on purpose. More than happy to ignore the red flags because you knew he was a kind person to his students, ignoring the dichotomy of his actions. 

Two things can be right at once. 

Satoru won't stop you if you run. He told you that himself. You could leave if you wanted, and he won't follow. But every other path is filled with an intangible value, and Satoru is the monster you know. 

Your hand falls away from the doorknob. 

You get started on dinner.

You're still there when Satoru comes back. You say nothing. Neither does he. Dinner is a quiet affair. He doesn't talk about his day, he doesn't talk about his students. When you wash the plates, he's quietly standing behind you. When you get out of the shower, he's waiting outside the bathroom. 

You can't bring yourself to look at him until you get into bed. Your eyes trail up, past his legs, his shoulders, his neck. Looking into Satoru's crystal blue eyes. 

Blank. Numb. Empty. 

You think of the cameras. You think of your stolen underwear. 

You think of how much his eyes must hurt right then. 

You raise one hand out, grasping the sleeve of his shirt. It's barely a tug, but the monster follows like he's weightless, crawling into bed. He's too big to hold properly, but he sinks into your body anyway. His forehead rests against your chest. His eyes close. You don't feel that ice anymore. 

“What do you see, Satoru?” 

“Nothing.” A pause. A stilted breath. 

“Nothing but you.” 

He was right in the end. Satoru is a monster. There's no other word that can describe him. Inhuman, far above humanity itself. But he's the monster you'd pick, every single time.

[reshinless]

“just the tip” turing into “i know you can take it just a few more rounds” with kinich? im totally normal about this man i promise 🙂‍↕️

7 rounds, with a side of coffee please!

nsfw utc, marathon sex if u squint, sex mention + the morning after, usage of 'cunt' but think of this how u want (I don't specify pronouns), praise kink, mentions of blindfold/rope (not the main point), shower sex somewhat (again not the main point)

wc: ~0.9k. artwork belongs to @/leisomnium on x, go check out their page.

he promised you it'd be just his tip snug inside your cunt. why are his thrusts soo mean now! (you asked for it)

all happening right after a celebration party mualani throws- she offers you two a house to share before going home. (three-day celebration in which you both do it on the third day)

he said he'd be gentle, that was four rounds ago. it felt as if he was losing his sanity inside you (literally), and he only wanted more.

the coos, and whispers against the shell of your ear- fuck you couldn't help but get turned on. he could feel the hefty amount of essence, and wetness on his shaft, as it spread everywhere.

the different speeds you could observe throughout the seven separate rounds you both underwent, he was rougher in the middle- vanilla towards the end.

spending the first few hours letting your tight cunt get used to his girth and length. fuck it was already the morning after but it's as if it was still there, your legs trembling at the thought.

he loved how loud you were last night though, he could hear the sounds of animals nearby getting startled. and a knock on the door from a neighbor, haha.

he was against the idea of tying you down to the bed or blindfolding you at first. but he will give in if you ask nicely, say please :)

he prefers he handles you himself, your skin on his, nothing in between. but it definitely would help him out by not needing to hold you down. the only times he does do it on his own when you don't ask is when you've been a little more than just 'bad'.

his tattoos glow a little when he gets pleasured, so in a way, you get clues on your own when you rode him, which spot he preferred inside you, or which position he preferred... (it was cowgirl by the way)

his hands cause marks on your skin, and he genuinely feels bad. he always offers help to cover them by wrapping his jacket around your waist or making his headwear into a scarf to cover up the hickeys on your nape.

yet you couldn't discard the feeling of the previous night. would always remind you whenever you tried to move the next. using nearby objects for support 'till kinich noticed, and wrapped your arm around his neck instead to support you, or full-on bridal style, whatever you want.

how he whispered "don't worry, let's just get you to the bed" sounded so familiar to the tone he used yesterday to tell you how good you took his cock inside you. about how deep it was... or how he'd fill you up to your very brim. "not a drop wasted." word for word.

"i know you can take it for a lil' longer, sweetheart... c'mon..." is all you heard in the moment as his godly speed along with merciless thrusts ironically enough. his mouth lusted praise into your hears, while his dick said much else.

he spent a few rounds thinking about what position he wanted to fuck you in the most. but he was stuck between his top three; missionary, mating press, and cowgirl. he couldn't decide but doggy style was a close second.

he much preferred a position in which he could stare at your features when doing so. like missionary- he could lean in to kiss your sweaty forehead, and hold your hips close to his as he repeatedly slammed himself inside.

or mating press where he could get a pretty lil' close-up of your face, he could feel your legs get tired while he trusted inside though, and honestly felt bad, that's when he started slowing down. instead of the ruthless pounding, he'd be a regular to grinded his angry red tip against your g-spot in hopes it's just as pleasurable as the previous feeling.

maybe it was cowgirl, wherein you'd do all the work. and he could watch how good your cunt swallows him whole, or how your head threw back in pleasure because of his cock. nothing turned him on more than your own expression. gosh, he could already feel himself harden at the sudden thought of it.

honestly would be the same for reverse cowgirl but if he were going to be real with you- he'd rather watch your expression range from your eyes rolling to the back of your head rather than for those beautiful faces you make be faced away from him. he could care less about seeing how you take it from behind somewhat.

it was the sixth round in which you remembered he was the loudest in, and in all honesty, it wasn't even supposed to go up 'till seven rounds. but you looked just so.. appetizing in your bathrobe. the fact you trust him so much enough to shower with him, he still blushed at the thought even when you've been together for about three years now.

he could feel his orgasm build up again as he pinned you to the wall of the steamy hot springs. shit, he knows mualani would get mad; having to clean the pool again but he couldn't help but release on your back as it arched, you both climaxing together.

maybe he did have a favorite though, and it didn't necessarily concern his shaft rubbing against you this time.

the way you tasted definitely changed his point of view on intercourse. damn did it taste better than any meat stew he's eaten and made before!

but how could he not? you forgot your last pair of clothing for the night, having to borrow his and fuck. he's turned on again from the sight of you in his clothing.

too late to realize when he already lifted the shirt up a little to seep his tongue into your hole. fingers already working over your clit, making sure you feel everything.

oh he knew how much you liked when he hummed in response to your little whimpers to turn them into moans, and whines. of his name? of course!

you tasted nice, especially when your gummy walls clenched around his fingers as they interchanged positions with his tongue, he landed pretty little kitty licks onto your clit. he added another digit up into your entrance as they curled riiiiight theeeree...

flashback over, the night was done and dawn arrived as kinich decided on just carrying you bridal style home using his rope to quickly travel back instead of using mualani's koholasaurus like previously done (took two days to arrive LOL).

mualani arrived at the hot springs near to the home she lent you both to, cookies and milk in hand. "man.. i didn't even get to say goodby- is that.. white in the water.. KINIIIIIIIIICH!!!"

[7s3ven]

Hear me out guys… retired soldiers now bodyguards! task force 141 x spoiled heiress! reader

( just an idea )

You’re like, a nutcase. Your father adores you but sometimes you can go out of control. Like for instance, the time you jumped off a cliff into the ocean below to impress a boy.

Yeah, your father wasn’t very impressed with your behaviour.

On top of your recklessness, your father has enemies who always seem to target you. You’re his obvious weakness and he can’t spend another moment of anxiously wondering if you’re okay while he’s working.

So, he hires the best bodyguards he can find. And they turn out to be retired soldiers from an elite unit known as Task Force 141. Perfect.

You don’t take kindly to being continuously followed by four large men who don’t even try to be subtle. It’s not like taking care of you is easy either. You’re a troublemaker, you always have been since your mother left you for another family (your reckless tendencies tend to stem from the fact that you’re causing trouble to get her to notice you again).

Task Force 141 has had enough when you attempt to sneak out of the house to a party on a Friday night. But it seems apart from shopping and acting like a brat, you aren’t good at anything else.

They hear a crash and someone swearing loudly before you roll off the roof, landing in the bushes right outside the window where the four men have a perfect view of you. They were watching a football came until you interrupted.

Jonny bursts into laughter, slapping Gaz out of amusement, while Price fetches you and forces you back inside.

“You know, your house has a back door for a reason.” Simon utters as he cleans your scratches but there’s a mocking indication to his tone.

“Yeah but like, going out the window felt more cool.” You argue back, furrowing your eyebrows.

“Was it cool when you face planted into the ground?”

You can only pout in annoyance.

From then on, they don’t leave you alone, especially not on Friday nights. You have to deal with being squished between Price and Simon as they watch a boring documentary on… fish? Jonny definitely chose that one.

But hey, you aren’t exactly complaining. Being stuck between the two men means being able to feel their muscles and smell their strong cologne. You tolerate the four men more after they cleaned your scratches from landing in a bush and carried you to your bed.

And so what if you catch feelings? Anybody else in your position would have done the same.

“We can’t date ya, lovie. We’re too old and we work for your dad.”

Do you care? Not really.

“My dad literally hired you because I was a troublemaker. Ya think I give a shit? ‘Sides, the older the better.”

Jonny jabs a thumb in Price’s direction, “Even the captain? You should’ve seen ‘im in his prime. Way better looking.” He hands you a picture that he just happens to have of Price.

You glance at it then lift your head to look at Price. Your lips curve into a teasing smile. “Yeah, you’re right. What happened, Captain?” You joke.

INCORRECT QUOTES FOR THE LAUGHS:

Kidnapper, negotiating with TF 141: We have the annoying heiress. Give us ten thousand dollars and they will be returned to you unharmed

Y/N: Whoa, whoa, wait, you think I’m only worth ten thousand dollars. MAKE IT ONE MILLION–

Price: Y/N, STOP

Simon: Can I be frank with you guys?

Jonny: Sure, but I don’t see how changing your name is gonna help.

Gaz: Can I still be Gaz?

Y/N: Shh, let Frank speak.

Gaz: In your opinion, what’s the height of stupidity?

Simon: *turning to Y/N* How tall are you?

Price: Where's Simon, Gaz, and Y/N?

Jonny: They're playing hide and seek.

Price: Where?

Jonny: I don't think you get how this game works.

Y/N: You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you even get here so fast?

Simon: Several traffic violations.

Gaz: Three counts of resisting arrest.

Jonny: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks.

Price: Also, that’s not our car.

[murdrdocs]

doing this off anon because i’m simply unhinged but - ghostface!luke doing it to fuck with you when he’s mad…

like you beat the hermes cabin in capture the flag or sumn,, and the first time it happens you wait for him in the woods to meet up after everyone’s in their bunks. and you hear rustling behind you and suddenly there’s a knife to your throat and he messes with you for a while with the mask until you find out it’s him.

and then he gets addicted to the fear in your eyes and the crying he saw and so he keeps doing it 😩 somewhere out there is a picture where luke is pulling your hair with the camera flash on like the tiktok trend im SCREECHING please

cw dark content; ghostface!luke; suggestive content MDNI 18+

the energy of the vengeance coursing through his veins is so electric that it's a wonder you can't feel it.

luke figures it's because you're stuck in your ego. in your glory. it's practically radiating off of you, momentarily protecting you from what pumps through him, meddled with the blood and ichor to create something dangerous.

but he's not here to seriously hurt you. no matter how many times he has to remind himself. he just needs to put you in your place. to remind you that this win was singular, and another won't be following it. with you, there's no better way to do that than to strike fear deep into your core.

it takes a second for it to reach you.

when luke purposefully steps onto a branch, and you turn to face him, he's only met with brief shock. then, like the overcompensating brat that he knows you to be, you laugh in his face to hide your fear.

"what's with the getup?" you gesture to the mask and gloves, amusement in your eyes but luke can see the way the corners of your lips tug down just a bit.

he doesn't say anything, tilting his head and watching on as you ramble to yourself.

"here to scare me? how'd you know i was out here anyway. unless..." you take a step closer, squinting your eyes. "luke?" your smile turns bigger, more genuine.

"knew you were a little weirdo but i didn't suspect this. what, are we gonna do it in the getup? am i gonna be your helpless victim? are you gonna make me beg for my life?"

you get closer and closer to him as you speak. eventually, you reach a hand up and attempt to lift his mask, but he catches you.

"luke?" you ask. he shakes his head, and it's then that the fear starts to set in.

you don't have time to react before luke has you spun around, your hand locked behind your back and your chest pressed up against the rough bark of a tree.

you wince. "ow, luke. you're hurting me," you tell him, trying to wedge yourself out of his grip but this is always one position you couldn't figure out the escape for when you would spar with luke.

he has you at his mercy. and before he'll let you go, he has to play with you for a while.

when the cold and sharp metal of a knife presses against the pure skin of your cheek, you flinch away, only to be stopped by luke forcibly nudging his crotch into your backside to remind you that when he's here, you're not going anywhere.

he hears your sniffles, and he briefly wishes he could see the tears glide down your face. but there's something more perversely addictive about only being able to hear you and not see you. something that makes luke's cock twitch within the confines of his cargo pants.

you're starting to plead, telling him that there's someone coming out to meet you. that he's big and strong and the best swordsman around and he could end your assailant in less than a minute. luke wants to laugh at the irony, and eventually he can't hold it in.

he does. he laughs right in your ear as he lets the knife slip a little and he slices a thin line against your cheek, watching the blood gather from behind the eye slits in the mask before he finally decides to show you mercy.

"not so big and bad now, are we?"

[pricegouge]

🦋 here, I heard you want ppl to be horny in your inbox and that’s my specialty

In the spirit of Haul- rough fucking as punishment. Maybe doll tried to escape, maybe she backtalked a little too harshly, whatever. If we’re to the point she’s allowed out of the basement, she’s immediately getting dragged back down there for her punishment. I’m biased to say Simon would be the one most likely to use a particularly brutal fucking to punish his pet, but idk about you, so if you think one of the others would be more likely, do tell!

Anyway I leave you with the visual of poor Reader getting dragged by the hair to wherever the boys wanna take her and begging them not to be too rough because she’s still healing :(

Horniness in my inbox will always be encouraged, but yeah, especially tonight :)

Wrow, my first non-canonical little drabble for Haul. She's getting so big :') I'm a Price girly so normally I'd say it's him doling out punishment, but I can play nice with Simon if that's what you prefer

cw: hair pulling, non con oral, choking

It's Johnny's fault, really.

He never stops running his mouth - about what a bad cook you are, how the place is never as clean as when the last girl they brought home was in charge of it. How much you want his cock. Normally, it's easy enough to ignore him. The boys are never there long, their schedules always rotating, intertwining like cogs in a clock before spinning on out and away again. Off to god knows where, leaving you at peace for a day or two so another one could fill their spot.

Only, Johnny's been out with engine trouble, and you've been stuck dealing with him for two weeks straight.

In retrospect, you can't even remember what it was you said. Something about how he could stick his head in the oven if he wanted after he'd complained about it being dirty. Johnny whines, you grumble, and Simon's thick fist snags in your hair.

"Who you giving lip, pet?" he snarls and you cringe.

"Wasn't -."

"No? And telling Johnny to burn his hair all off i'n' givin' 'im lip?"

You don't bother arguing, too busy standing on your toes as you try to relieve some pressure from your scalp.

"'appen to like that 'air, pet. Don't want 'im burning it all off," Simon laughs. He pulls your head back and forth by your own hair, as if demonstrating why he likes the handle on Johnny's head.

"It's nice hair," you agree, hoping you can get away from punishment by simply playing nice. John is out today, picking up the slack from Johnny's busted truck. Usually, John's the one to handle your punishments so you can get away with more when he's not around, but Simon's really been taking his position seriously in the captain's absence, and you know you won't be so lucky when he just tuts at you.

"You'll have to be nicer than that." His casual tone does nothing to prepare you for the cruel way he yanks you back downstairs. You yowl, fingers threading through your own hair as if you can hold your scalp close to your skull. You stumble after him, falling a few times on the steps as he drags you below John's office. He does nothing to catch you beyond grip your hair tighter.

You don't realize Johnny's following until the door is snicking shut behind you.

"You gonna tell Johnny you're sorry?"

You do, immediately, falling to your knees despite how Simon still holds you up by your hair. Your knees hover above the tile, weight suspended at a sharp point on your scalp.

"Nicer than that, hen," Johnny grins. His fingers move to his waistband and your breath stutters out.

"Please, no. I said I'm sorry." Sometimes if you turn your pretty, pleading eyes on Simon he takes pity. No such luck tonight.

"Not yet you haven't." His fingers wrap around your jaw, thumb and middle finger digging into your cheeks until he can pry your mouth open, holding you like that lest you bite through the meat of your own cheeks.

Johnny's own thumb hooks your jaw even lower, his cock bobbing in your face as he fists his own base. "Not gonnae show me tha' cute little tongue, hen?" He asks, faux innocence.

Your eyes meet his for a moment, defiant despite your position. You loll your tongue out for him when Simon's free hand slides down to your throat.

"Tha's righ', bonnie," Soap sighs, easing himself into your waiting mouth. "You be nice and sweet for me, yea?"

Johnny's thick. One of the thickest you've ever had. It's taken practice but you accept him easily enough after a few experimental thrusts. Simon's palm tightens around your throat when Johnny slides home, and the smaller man groans.

"Feel that, love?" Simon asks, and you know by the tone in his voice he's not talking to you - too warm, too pleasant. Not for you. "Fuck my fist, Johnny, wanna feel it."

[enden-agolor]

i fucking LOVE the way you draw/write jesse, as someone with a chubby/buff build i kind of struggle with insecurities about my size but the way you draw him makes me feel very good. idk im describing it badly but i wanted to ask if your design for him is more chubby or muscly?

Dude thank you 🥺🩵 You described it very well.

It really depends on which time frame I'm drawing Jesse in actually.

In the beginning, I imagine Jesse is quite scrawny. I mean did you see his work out routine in the beginning? He was was doing sit ups and punching flowers. He was definitely lacking muscle (but had enough to be able to lift Reuben up and down that ladder) and as the first couple episodes progress, he stays scrawny but progressively becomes more scarred up until the Portal Hallway episodes.

The Portal Hallway episodes, it takes place many months after the events of the Witherstorm. Jesse and his friends are going on many more adventures, really honing their skills that they acquired over the past few months. Jesse is much more built now. He's buff and tough with the true heart of a hero. Although, once he and his friends get stuck in the Portal Hall, that's when things take a really devastating turn for him. Feeling hopeless and lost for weeks on end, he begins to feel withdrawn from the positivity he was feeling before he ended up stuck here. Traumatic events keep occuring, and with these events, Jesse is of course drawn to remember and replay the events of Reuben's death in his head. He keeps the most of these feelings to himself because his group is already feeling so disheartened about their current situation that the last thing he'd want for them is to know that he's breaking emotionally, so he ends up taking less care of himself. He starts eating with the idea that he has to stay strong for his friends, but even those moments are rare. Food is scarce depending on what portal they are in, so when he finds food, he'll take anything that will keep his energy and strengths up.

By the end of it all, he's actually put on a significant amount of muscle. But it's kind of like a 'at what cost?' scenario.

Things get a bit better for him between then and Season 2 where he's eating better again and keeping all that muscle, but once Season 2 comes and goes, and with everything that happens in the Sunshine Institute and the Underneath, he loses a lot of weight.

It's only after Season 2, where he stays in BeaconTown and eventually finds a love life with Lukas when he really begins putting on weight once again. He's done with hero work. He's done with going on crazy life threatening adventures. Now he just wants to live life for himself rather than putting others first. Lukas helps him a lot through this, with body positivity and lots of love and affectionate touch, it's all the reassurance Jesse has ever needed to feel okay with being himself again. So he ends up putting on that happy weight that couples typically adopt over time when they're in a healthy relationship. Lukas treats him so, so unbelievably well. Finally Jesse gets to eat food for himself without the idea of needing to keep himself strong and powerful once he's finally retired. He indulges himself in his sweet tooth and loves to eat cookies, cakes, and other baked goods that Lukas will bake or bring home. He also really enjoys the fact that he doesn't have to eat alone anymore. He loves sitting at the table and enjoying a meal with his hubby. And the best part, which is something Jesse was horribly self conscious about, is that Lukas loves and adores his pudge. He is so supportive of Jesse's eating habits, but he doesn't hesitate to sneak veggies and fruits into Jesse's lunch box for work.

So yeah uh Jesse is chubby, buff and loved at the end of it all 😍

Here's some lil doodles of him I have lying around. The first one is pretty old and could probably use a touch up since now I don't see much of a difference, but you get the point ☠️

[slxtarchive]

𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐞 ✦ 𝐬𝐚𝐦 𝐠𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. where sam was there to help y/n when she had a rough day and resorted to unwinding in a not-so-healthy way.

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭. okay so i was just thinking for a sam golbach fic reader relapses (self harm) cuz their mind has been getting too much lately, and maybe sam helps them clean up and then helps take care of them and makes them feel loved nd just like lets them know that they don't need to do that because he's there from now on?? if that makes sense. also maybe not an established romantic relationship but maybe it ends up that way? like sam tells reader he doesn't know what he'd do with himself if anything happened to them he just cares a lot about them and yeah

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬. ANGST ! third person pov, talks of self harm, relapsing, descriptive literature, friend!sam, friends to lovers.

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬. if anybody needs anyone to talk to i’m here! 🤍 sorry this took so long to post & write! this one hit really personal for me but id okay to say ive healed & im continuing to heal from my past. if anyone is going through similar hardships, you can get through it! i believe, love, & support you always.

y/n told herself she wouldn’t put herself in this position again. she wouldn’t.. but sometimes things don’t go as planned.

she had tried to stay strong, to stop letting her mind control every action she took; it just became too much. she sat on the cold tile floor of her bathroom, tears making their way down her flushed face. she gripped the item as she took the first swipe, lightly but firm enough.

just stop. she told herself. her hand shook as she went to repeat the action. she looked at her skin i just need to feel something, she thought. something other than what im feeling now.

she had been doing so good but somehow found herself back at square one. all that work that she had done was all gone. she felt hopeless, as if this never ending black hole of despair would stay with her for the rest of her life.

she took a minute to think on her life and what could have went wrong to cause her to relapse. all those thoughts had no specific effect on relapsing, its just her brain had begun to spin a web that caused her to get stuck in her head all day. what else can i do? she thought as she took another swipe at her skin. she planned on continuing until she heard her bedroom door open.

her heart dropped to her ass. “y/n..?” the voice had confusion laced in their voice.

sam.

it was sam.

the blonde boy was one of the things that y/n had in her life that truly made her happy. he was her best friend. she never told him that but she truly meant that with every fiber of her being.

y/n quickly wiped her tears when she heard the footsteps come closer to the bathroom. wiping the tears would make the tear stains disappear but the thing about breaking down, you’re left with that struggle of trying to catch your breath.

she couldn’t stop gasping, trying to breathe calm and collectively. that’s why as sam stopped right beside the bathroom. he heard a small gasp escape her lips that caught his attention.

his eyebrows raised in confusion. he put his head beside the door trying to hear something else. “uh.. y/n? you in there?” he knocked. he received no answer. multiple questions and thoughts ran through his mind before he opened the door.

sam had seen many things in his life, traumatic even, but this — it was like his heart had jumped, dropped, did a tumble, and self destructed all in the span of 3 seconds. he instantly became nauseous at the sight of y/n holding a blade to her forearm. the small cuts that had caught his eye before she covered her arm and hid the blade had his blood run cold.!

the second y/n had been caught she felt guilty and embarrassed. she felt pathetic, like she wasn’t strong enough to handle the hard reality of the real world. immediately, she stood up and faced sam. “i-im sorry you weren’t supposed to see that.. it’s not what it looks like.” she sniffled trying to contain her tears. “i… it just, lately everything has been so crazy and i haven’t … i haven’t done this in a while but… but everything has just been… too much.” she rambled out, trying to explain herself.

sam’s face of confusion faltered. he thought about her words. the way she mentioned in a while had him wondering what caused her to relapse and fall back into this situation. he scanned her face. she’s too pure to be suffering like this. he paused thinking of what to say but truly all that he wanted to do was give her a hug. so that’s what he did.

he pulled her in, wrapping his arms around her protectively. she melted into his touch. her lip quivered as she wrapped her own arms around him. her body shook as more tears cascaded down her face.

sam felt his own eyes sting with tears. “i’m sorry.” he choked up. “i’m sorry you’ve been going through all of this alone.” he rested his cheek on her head closing his eyes trying to stay strong for her.

y/n hasn’t said anything, still feeling guilty. sam pulled away and looked down at the floor seeing the blade and a tissue beside it. he picked them up and threw both away.

he turned back to y/n who had a tired look on her face. “as long as i’m here nothing will hurt you, okay? i will be here for you. you can depend on me. you don’t need to do this anymore to yourself y/n, i won’t let you.” he took her face into his hands. “i promise, i love you and im always here for you no matter what.”

y/n’s heart raced as sam’s words really effected her. she nodded pursing her lips and biting her cheek.

he brought her head to his mouth and pressed a light kiss on her forehead. “i mean it y/n. i don’t know what i’d do with myself without you. you complete me.”

y/n’s eyes scanned sam’s face noticing how his own eyes began to water and become puffy. the scene before her causing her throat to close. “m’sorry i promise i wont do it anymore. i love you sam and… fuck — i know i shouldn’t be doing that. i just didn’t know what else to do.” she leaned against his chest.

“i know, i know baby but from now on you can talk to me about it. about anything. i care so much about you. you truly have no idea how much i…” he stopped himself not wanting to overwhelm her. “just know you mean the world to me. you are and have been my priority since we met and that’s never going to change.” the reassuring words causing y/n to relax.

y/n started to get inside her head, wondering what if he got tired of her, if he’d leave her, what she’d do or how she’d feel if that happened — or even worse; if she would be a burden to sam.

sam noticed y/n zoning out. “hey, tell me what you’re thinking please.” his hands reached down to grab her own.

she took a deep breath. c’mon y/n. she blinked a couple times trying to sort her thoughts. “don’t wanna be a burden to you.” she admitted to which sam immediately shook his head.

sam brought her hands to his mouth kissing her knuckles. “you could never ever be a burden to me. you keep me pushing through every day because i want to be the best for you. to be the best friend you deserve and… and whatever the future may hold for us — i want you there always, okay? don’t ever forget that.”

his words wavered through the air and stood there so you could process what he truly meant. you thought on it, picking up some hidden message that you’d both communicate about later but as of now, he truly helped you feel understood and seen. as long as you had him you’d feel physically, mentally, and emotionally secure and protected.

© slxtarchive

[bunnibaby-love]

I don’t know if your taking requests, but if you are can I please get Step-dad Zayne and like thigh grinding with a lil daddy kink. Idk I love him 🙁

🍒 Zayne x

F!Reader 🍒

♡ nsfw + stepcest + thigh grind + daddy kink

It's past twelve o'clock yet you still can't fall asleep. Recently, you're having.....strange dreams. Maybe it wasn't so strange for a young girl like you to have dirty dreams but the man in your dreams is your mom's new husband, your step father Zayne

Not only Zayne is captivating handsome man, he's also a renowned doctor. Althought stoic, he's still charming to everybody else

You tried to ignore these strange dreams of yours but later fall on your dark fantasies. You watched porn with the male resembling him while touching yourself or using the favority toy of yours.

You got suprised when a cold hand touch your shoulder and open your eyes to look behind you "It's past your bedtime. Why are you still up?" There, Zayne loosing up his tie

"....Homework..." you averted your red cheeks from him and continue to look again at your textbook. It's getting harder to look at him with guilt but also desire

"You had whole week to do that and now you're procastinating again" he hold up a firm demeanour but still sat beside you "Let me help you with that so you could rest already"

Your eyes widen when he position himself behind you while both of you are sitting at floor in the living room. Zayne is smart and patient to taught you the lesson you're stuck. His teaching will be easier to understand if only you could ignore his groin against your soft ass.

You can barely take it anymore as you try to innocently play it off as just moving but actually grinding more to feel him. You cannot wait to finish this boring lesson so you could finally released yourself on your bedroom

Zayne suddenly gripped your waist and subtly smirk on your ear "Behave Y/N" you gripped your pen and bow your head deeper on your notebook when you realize he caught your actions

"Ah!" Zayne maneauver your body and sat you on his lap "Daddy?" you look up to him with those bambi eyes of yours

"I really like when you call me that..." His cold hand cupped your cheek "Tell me darling about the dream you we're having these past few nights?....or whatever you're doing on your room after dinner?" Your eyes widen when yoi realize he heard your gasp and moan and definitely the way you call out his name

"I'm sorry daddy...i know it's wrong...it's not my fault! my brain is just getting fuzzy..." You fiddle with your fingers while apologizing from your naughty behaviour

"I'm not mad" He chuckled and settle you on his right thigh "Tell me about what's on the little head of yours hmm? tell me and i'll let you ride my thigh"

"Are you...? Here? Really? Are you testing me? I'm really sorry just don't tell me to mom-- eak!" he grind his thigh against your clothed core

"Your mother isn't here. She's on a sudden trip and yes i am serious" He stand up while carrying you to sat on couch "I'm very tired and stressed from my work sweetheart, i would appreciate it if you could relieve my stress"

You can't take it anymore plus you're already busted anyways better just take it. You started to hump on his thigh "I..i dreamed about you touching me..."

"Where?" He fixes his glasses to look at you intently

"Everywhere...like my chest" He trace his index finger against your clothed chest and slowly unbotton your pajama top while you're holding you're breath

He began to slowly plant kisses and nip on your chest, slowly starting to move lower and lower down your body. His hand on your back began to slowly move down to your waist again, lightly caressing the skin where it touched.

"Continue baby..." he assist your waist for a bit so you could grind more while he leaves kisses from your collarbone to your bud "You're so pretty and yet so naughty"

"Daddy im coming. .ah.....ah...ahh..." you didn't wait for his approval as you released all over his slacks. "M'sorry..." you pout and hide your face on his neck

You jolted up when his cold finger gaze on your clit "She wants more doesn't she? Well darling we have the whole night to ourself"

Althought embrassed still you smile on his shoulder and heared his belt unbuckle

[xnchxntmxnt]

hurt comfort with the astarion guy pls I don't don't know anything about the game I've just seen clips of him on youtube and I love him

you aSK AND YOU SHALL RECIEVE i love him

Blood is Rare and Sweet as Cherry Wine

Character: Astarion (Baldur's Gate)

Warnings: reverse hurt/comfort, mentions of alcohol (reader doesn’t drink), general astarion backstory information but it’s nothing super specific. not proofread

Notes: almost cried writing this. im sorry. anyway I'm a hozier lover what else is new.

gn reader

reblogs > likes

send an ask to join my taglist

Astarion stared at the fire, leaning back against one of the boxes under his tent. There was something serene about this area—they’d never been attacked at camp, and it comforted him to know he could let his guard down somewhere. If only slightly. 

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you walking up to him until you spoke. 

“Astarion?” you asked, voice softer than he expected. “Are you alright?”

He must have looked upset—he didn’t need your pity, though, so he tried to shake himself back to reality. “What can I do for you, my dear?” he asked, sitting up a bit straighter and taking a sip of the ale next to him. 

You paused, looking at him with your eyebrows furrowed slightly, then finally decided to sit next to him. He offered the ale but you declined. Instead, you turned your body to face him and slowly, gently, brushed a bit of hair out of his face. 

And he flinched. 

You quickly pulled your hand away from him and rested it in your lap. He stared, wide-eyed, terrified of his own actions. He’d inflicted pain on countless others and never felt guilt for it, but such a simple gesture broke him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice small and quiet. It was unlike anything you’d ever seen before. Astarion was always so eccentric, so proud, so…unafraid. This was an entirely new side to him, and he was even more embarrassed to show it to you. He wanted to run, he wanted to hide, but he didn’t have the energy to make his feet move. To make anything move. 

There was a beat of silence, where the two of you only listened to the crackling fire a few feet away. Then, you spoke. “You don’t have to apologize for anything.”

He didn’t understand how you could be so kind to him. There were so many things wrong with him as a person, or things from his past—he’d hurt people, tricked them, found ways for dear Cazador to turn them into mindless little puppets. Like he was, before all this mindflayer business. 

There was so much wrong in the world, and there you sat. His ray of sunshine—his hope. Somehow with you, things seemed a little less dreary. True, there was some mystical dream-being that followed you around keeping everyone from sprouting tentacles, so that was something positive. But your general disposition, the way you smiled at him when you caught him staring at you, the way you snuck away from the rest of camp with him to watch the stars…all these things made him fall so hopelessly in love. 

He couldn’t be that person for you, though. He never learned how to make big, romantic gestures or show his affection in a way that made sense. A way that made sure you knew he adored you in your best and worst moments. Cazador had ruined him—he’d ruined any semblance of having a normal life. On top of being a vampire spawn and ripped away from his life before, he was stuck in an endless loop of servitude and puppetry or constantly fearing for his life. He never learned or could afford, to just relax. You deserved someone who could love you whole-heartedly, not the monster he’d become. 

“I care for you so, so deeply, my dear,” he all but whispered, voice tight with emotion. 

“I know.”

“I cannot, for the life of me…” he trailed off, quickly wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. “I cannot understand why you care for me.”

His head hung low; you stared at him, shocked and unsure how to react to his words. He felt embarrassed, he felt small—there was nothing he could do, it seemed, to pull himself out of this rut he had himself stuck in lately. 

Then he heard your words. 

“Can I hug you, Astarion?”

He glanced over to you, seeing teh pleading look in your eyes. You’d asked. Maybe that made him feel a little more normal, a little less messed up. Hesitantly, he leaned into your embrace. The moment he felt the warmth of your arms around him, though, he melted. He laid his head on your chest, his full weight falling into you exponentially by the second. And with it, he began to cry. 

It was heart-wrenching sobs that felt like someone stabbing him through the heart every time, but he couldn’t mistake the comfort of your hands running through his hair. The soothing, repetitive motion calmed his nerves more than he thought possible. After what felt like ages, he began to sit up, trying to put himself back together like that hadn’t just happened. His eyes looked slightly irritated, but he tried desperately to wipe any evidence of his outburst from his face—

Suddenly, he felt your hands around his face, thumbs running over his cheeks. He stopped—his hands slowly fell, and he relaxed into your embrace once again. 

“You do not have to apologize for feeling things, Astarion,” you said softly. “And you certainly don’t have to hide from me. Not your thoughts, not your emotions.”

He nodded, turning his head slightly to the side to kiss the palm of your hand. His voice was hoarse but surprisingly gentle. “Thank you. I don’t deserve you.”

“That’s the thing. You do.”

He smiled softly—it had been a long time since he felt like he could do so freely. 

taglist

@grays321

[blingblong55]

Some love- John Price NSFW

Based on a request:

Price and a gn reader where we walk in on him and he then makes us give him a bj 

A/N: Short smut but I hope I do the request some good ---- GN!Reader, smut, 18+, oral!sex, soft!Price?, established!relationship ----

It was a long day at the base, you were stuck in meetings all day long with Ghost. Lieutenants from all over the base conversing about some issues when Price texts you. 

Office. Now. 

It was a blind game but you excused yourself and went to his office. "Captain?" you walk in after the usual knock. He was sitting there, lights dim as he strokes his cock. "Lock the door and c'mere," his voice raspy and low. You do as told and go to him. Your gaze on his swollen tip when he tugs at your arm. "On your knees, love." He positions himself further from the desk as he watches you lower yourself, your head between his legs as you await his next order. 

"Obedient pet, aren't you little one," he kisses the top of your head, his hand on the back of your head as you part your lips open. His tip teased your tongue and before he told you what to do, your mouth wrapped around his cock. As your head bobbed, his head was thrown back. Grunts and moans cover the air from how good you are making him feel. "Don't stop, darling," he says between heavy moans. You loved it when he would get this horny to the point where he would ask for a blowjob at work. 

"C'mon, don't close your eyes," his voice determined to keep that pretty gaze of yours on him. Your tears ran down as you kept gagging on his cock. The tip of his fat cock hitting the uvula, your drunk stare on his which only causes him to chuckle. "That's it, you're doing a great job darling," he continues his praise. You can feel him beginning to push you faster, at times keeping your head still as he enjoys the feeling and then once more making your head bob. 

His cum leaks through your mouth and throat. Your lips at his shaft as you gag and him. "Oh fucking-....yes my love," he pulls your head back and kisses you. "God you are something," he ushers between kisses. His big strong arms bring you to his legs as he nuzzles his head on your neck. "I love you," his lips once more meeting yours. Your head still spinning and each one of his kisses gives you more and more comfort. "You did well, okay?" His warm hands cupped your face, thumbs caressing the softens of your skin. 

"Just lay on my chest, let me take care of you," his voice softer now. Your lover comes back only when alone and in between the secure four walls. He grabs his jacket and covers you with it. Rough hands become soft as they caress your back and head. You soon close your eyes and rest against him. His breathing soothing you to a short nap. 

A/N: I know you would like this and also im working on your request @anonymuslydumb

Tags:

@liyanahelena @kit-kats06 @pupgothic @sans-chara @katybaby00 @vampsquerade @goldenmclaren @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @enarien @luvecarson

[wonder2realities]

living FROM the end & shifting.

you often hear the term "living in the end" in law of assumption ; referring to the idea of living in a state where you've successfully gained your desire but i personally believe that living from the end is the key to putting your dr off a pedastal and viewing yourself as someone who can shift to wherever you wish . . . but what is the difference ?

there isn't that large of a difference between the two when you first look at it...there's just a difference in the prepositions being used. but when you look a bit deeper you'd notice a larger difference between the two.

living IN the end refers to living in a state where you feel your wish is fulfilled (ie : i'm becoming a master shifter turns into im now a master shifter) but living FROM the end refers to living in a state where your starting point was you having your wish fulfilled (ie : im now a master shifter turns into i've always been one, i'm not "now" a master shifter - i have always been one.) instead of you becoming a master shifter or finally gaining your desire — you've always had it.

in simple terms, when you live in the end - you've "earned" your desire and you're simply living in a state where you've earned that desire but if you live from the end - you never earned whatever you wanted...you always had it , there was no progress or process to getting it.

but how does that tie to shifting specifically ?

when it comes to shifting, the main thing people struggle with is the idea of actually shifting to other realities because it sounds utopian and even if you do believe it...it's scary. you've never been aware of it so who knows what could happen, you're quite literally stepping into the unknown. now if you were to live in the end, you'd be able to battle part of this issue — being able to understand that you've become a master shifter and someone who can shift effortlessly BUT living from the end will mean that you'd be in a state where you've always been someone who can shift effortlessly.

you didn't gain the ability, you didn't wait for it, you didn't earn it : you've always had it , even if you were unaware.

so you'd have to think as someone who didn't "earn" the ability but have always had that ability, and someone who were able to shift to multiple realities flawlessly obviously wouldn't be that worried. they'd plan where to go, do their method and bam they'd be in whichever reality they'd plan to go to. but more importantly, a master shifter wouldn't stress about where the universe or where their consciousness would lead them to. they wouldn't worry if they shifted to a random reality unintentionally, they'd just shift back. they'd trust themself.

do you trust yourself? if you were randomly put in a waiting room and something didn't go to plan (you'd be safe of course) — would you still trust yourself? and be honest with yourself too.

now, do you need to have 100% trust in yourself to shift ? . . . no not really. - my first shift was during a time where i'd trust angel numbers more than myself and to make it worse it was the 2020 dracotok shifttok era too BUT having this understanding and this trust will save you from shifting and then being stuck in a slump. a lot of people assume that when you first shift you'll unlock this huge magical power when no, you'll most likely be back to square one UNLESS you have some form of self-trust.

because you'll always view other shifters as better, even if you have shifted before...someone out there probably shifted 50 times in a week — you will compare yourself because you don't live from the end, you don't start from a point where you know and trust that you are someone who has shifted forever and instead live in a state where you look down on yourself.

you aren't a "rookie" to shifting. live from the end, and whats the end? someone who has shifted for eons, with no stress or worry. go through your journey by living from the end and you'll see how much it'll positively affect your self-concept.

rmbr that you are forever limitless & changing ★

[lostgirlmuseum]

Stuck (2)gether

(image from Pinterest ^) Summary: A continuation of Stuck Together, Bucky deals with the aftermath of now knowing what it’s like to be so close to you. He misses it. He’s scared of it. He needs it.

Words: 2.7k

Warning: None I don’t think, just some fluff and an awkward Bucky. Oh and implied wet socks (DON'T WORRY, NOT EXPLICIT)

A/N: Yes I think im very funny with the title lol

Previously…

You wonder what you did to make him so revolted by you.

Little do you know, at that very moment, Bucky is resisting every urge to run back to you.

Bucky woke up the next morning feeling lost. Like there was something missing. Before his groggy brain could put it together, he saw his phone light up with a reminder that he was meeting Sam to go on a jog. He quickly got up and got dressed, trying to ignore that weird nagging feeling that a piece of him was gone.

Seeing as he lives on the fourth floor of the tower, he could’ve very easily taken the stairs to level one. It’s not like he got winded often. But something compelled him to take the elevator.

Right as the odd feeling had started to dissipate, the elevator doors opened. And there you were.

It all came crashing back to him. 

Fu-

“Oh, hey Buck.” You smiled.

“Hi.” He briefly considered not getting on. He could take the stairs. But there you stood, and he felt the urge to stand right next to you.

“What floor?” You asked.

He looked at the buttons. He saw “12” glow a faint yellow.

“Twelve.” 

“Oh, me too.” 

“Yes.”

Yes? What does that even mean? Just be cool Barnes. Be cool—

Your sweet voice interrupted his internal panic.

“Nice. With how hot it’s been lately, I figured I should take advantage of the pool.”

He finally noticed the towel you were carrying.

“Yeah, same.” He crossed his arms.

“You’re heading to the pool too?” 

“Yeah.”

“What are the chances?” You politely laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you go swimming.”

“I swim.” 

Despite his horrible conversational skills, he doesn’t want this elevator ride to end.

“I don’t doubt it.” 

There came an awkward lull in the conversation. He felt guilty for not only lying about where he was headed, but even more so for his lack of interesting responses. The least he could do was be engaging.

Either you gave up on him, or you lost interest, because neither of you said another word as you exited the elevator, and walked down the hall into the pool room.

He stood and watched as you grabbed a chair and draped your towel over it. You two were the only ones there. He continued to watch as you took off your t-shirt and stepped out of your shorts, revealing a navy bathing suit underneath. You stacked your clothes neatly on the chair, and pulled your hair back. You ambled up to the edge of the pool and dipped your toe in. Then you turned around and saw him staring right back at you, unmoving.

“Where’s your swimsuit?” You tilted your head.

“Um.” He looked at you blankly for a solid three seconds. He realized there was a significant hitch in his plan. Could he make an excuse and just leave? Yes. Was he going to? No. Because all logic went out the window the minute the elevator doors opened and he saw you. He’s acting on the instinct to be near you, and not leave your side, no matter what. “I didn’t bring it.”

“Oh, I know what you’re doing.” You laughed.

Oh jeez. You’ve caught him. He’s mortified. He can’t even explain the feelings coursing through his veins, and yet you’ve already figured him out.

“Swimming fully clothed, yeah? I’ve heard it’s a good skill to learn, never know when you might be in a situation where you unexpectedly find yourself in a body of water, especially in our line of work.”

He nodded. 

You turned back to the water and took a step up on the diving block. You got in position and dove into the water, leaving Bucky with his jaw dropped at how you just found his excuse for him.

“You coming in, or what?” You called, wading in the pool.

“I’m here, sorry,” Bucky started his apologies to Sam the minute he found him waiting on a bench in the lobby.

“Man, where were you? I thought we were meeting for a run. And why the hell are you dripping?” 

“Sorry, I got held up.”

“Doing what? Did you forget to take your clothes off in the shower?”

“No.”

“Okay…” Sam looked Bucky up and down, taking in the way his shirt clung to his chest, the messy damp hair, and the literal puddle he stood in. “Buck, I’m waiting for an explanation on why you’re drenched.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Weird dude. You’re being weird. I mean, you’re always weird, but especially right now.”

“Are we running, or not?” He groaned.

“With those squeaky ass shoes? I’m thinking not.”

Around lunch time, Bucky had found you alone in the kitchen, making a sandwich. Your hair was still a bit damp from the pool earlier, but so was his. 

“Oh!” You jumped, “You snuck up on me!”

“Sorry,” he blushed. 

Next thing he knew, he was standing right beside you, behind the kitchen island. 

You seemed just as surprised at his proximity, he usually stayed a fair distance away from everyone. Minus Steve, maybe.

He mumbled something, searching your face.

“What?” You asked.

“Um, what are you making?”

“Just a sandwich.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“I don’t know, I kinda grabbed whatever I could find from the fridge.”

He felt himself smile.

“What?” You laughed, noticing his weird reaction.

“You’ve got—” he paused, hesitating to bring his hand up, “here, I got it.” 

He brought his thumb to your left cheekbone, carefully wiping away a smudge of mustard you had managed.

“Oh,” you giggled. But he didn’t take his hand away. He just let it lightly hover, looking wistfully from his hand by your cheek to your glittering eyes.

“Is that sandwich for me?” Tony’s voice penetrated the bubble Bucky had found himself in. 

Immediately, Bucky brought his arms to his sides and stepped away from you, backing up a ridiculous five feet.

He saw a glimpse of hurt and confusion on your face, but it quickly dissipated into a teasing smile.

“Sorry Iron Man, but this sandwich is mine.” You crossed your arms.

“Well, this kitchen is mine. My kitchen, my rules, yeah?”

“Alright, just take the sandwich.”

“Is that yellow or Dijon mustard I see on it?”

“Yellow.”

“Damn. I prefer Dijon.” Tony quipped back.

Bucky did what he did best, standing and watching from afar.

Tony glanced over at him and back at you. The man leaned over the counter.

“Come here.” He gestured for you to lean in.

You gave him a suspicious look but stepped closer, leaning over the island.

Tony brought his hand up to where Bucky had just had his, and swiped.

“Weird, I thought I saw a smudge of something.” Tony teased, looking back over at Bucky.

Bucky felt his cheeks flush. Damn Stark, and having to ruin everything. Bucky didn’t care how you responded, he suddenly felt the urge to get the hell out. 

“Buck–” he heard you start to call, but he was already half-way out the door.

Bucky was laying face down on his bed when he heard the knock at his door.

“Who is it?” He grumbled.

There was no response.

“Hello?”

Begrudgingly, he rolled out of bed and opened the door. No one was there. He looked down and finally noticed the note at his feet. He glanced down the empty hallway before picking up the small paper and going back into his room.

“Meet me in my room in 5 minutes. Go ahead in, I’ll be there soon.

                        From, Y/N”

His heart started to race. 

You were inviting him into your room? Your space. God, this has got to be a dream. Finally, he can be close to you and not worry about anyone interrupting. His head was so clouded with the anticipation of you that he didn’t even think to wonder what you wanted to meet him for. Or why you felt the need to put it in a note.

You said to meet in five minutes, but he couldn’t help himself. He left immediately for your room and was three minutes early. He tugged at his hair for a minute, and rocked on his heels. He couldn’t take it. What’s two minutes?

He knocked on your door and it creaked open. 

He let himself in, like you asked, and nearly sat on the edge of your bed, but thought it too intimate, opting for your cozy chair in the corner. It smelled like you. 

Soon after, he heard steps coming down the hall and closer to your door.

He tried to keep his body still, but he wanted to meet you halfway. He’d never felt so impatient.

The door slowly started to open…

Bucky blanched. 

“Peter?” 

“I’m really sorry about this Sergeant Barnes.” The kid gave him apologetic eyes.

“Sorry about w—” Bucky didn’t get a chance to finish his sentence, Peter shot two webs, both landing perfectly in place where Bucky’s arms rested on the chair.

“Mr. Starks orders.” Peter burst out, right before making his quick exit out the door.

Before Bucky could even start to badger the kid, two faces appeared in the doorway.

“Stark! What the fuck is going on?!” Bucky yelled, and turned his attention to the other body. “Wilson, I swear to fucking god—”

“Cool it Tin Man, this is for your own good,” Tony started, “this way you have to confront your feelings for Y/N.”

“I don’t have feelings for—” Bucky started to bark back, but Sam interrupted from the doorway.

“Don’t lie, Buck, I talked to Y/N earlier. You were late because you went swimming, fully clothed, just to be near her. That’s crazy!”

“Psychotic, really,” Tony added. 

“Desperate, is what it is.” Sam pointed. “Sorry to do this to you, really, but it’s for your own good. And hers too.”

The men started to close the door, and Bucky seethed, “Don’t you dare, I will kill you both!”

He was seeing red.

Stark's muffled remark came behind the door.

“Good luck, we’re rooting for you!”

“STARRRRKK—”

He tried thrashing, but it was useless. He was feeling murderous. The chair bumped onto the ground as he repeatedly attempted to stand up and free his wrists from their confines.

But his anger swiftly turned to panic the second he sensed footsteps and heard your light humming nearing the door.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he whispered, willing the web to dissolve.

But it was too late. You opened the door, and spotted him immediately.

“Wha—Bucky?”

“Hey, hi, yeah,”

“Are you alright?” You asked, looking around the room for any other unusual signs. “What are you doing here? Is that Peter’s web?”

“You see, I can explain,” he started, already breathless.

“Okay…” 

“Um, I got a note from you saying to meet you in your room, and so that’s why I’m here. Obviously, you didn’t write it, but I didn’t know that at the time so I let myself in, but then Parker popped out of nowhere, webbed me to the chair, and then Stark and Sam appeared and said stuff and essentially this is all an elaborate prank on behalf of them.”

You just looked at him.

“You’re looking at me like I’m crazy, I get it, it sounds unbelievable, but I swear to god that is what happened.”

“Relax, Bucky, I believe you. I just don’t get the joke.” You crossed your arms, lost in thought.

“They’re twisted, who knows what they are ever thinking.”

“I just don’t understand why they’d do this.”

“I don���t know, they wanted us to talk, it’s stupid.” He rolled his eyes.

“Talk? About what?”

Bucky didn’t answer. But he didn’t have to. A look of realization and a twinge of shame crossed your face.

“Oh, is this about the other day? Bucky, I’m really sorry. I was just trying to help you get the web off, I didn’t know I’d get stuck to you. I’m really, really, sorry, I never would have done it if I’d known. I know you value your space, and I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I apologize.”

Bucky started to sputter, not even sure how to correct how wrong you were.

“Oh my gosh! And now you’re trapped in my room, it’s happening again. I’m sorry, you probably want to be as far away as possible from me right now. I’ll go find the web dissolver, I’ll give you space,”

“No, I don’t want space.” He blurted. Well, no going back now. “I want to be…close to you.” He whispered, ducking his head in humiliation.

You simply shook your head, not understanding.

“I’m sorry, it’s embarrassing. Ever since we got stuck together, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about being close to you. I don’t know what’s happened to me, maybe it’s just that I haven’t been so close to another person in so long, or something else is wrong with me. I see you and I’m itching to be closer. It’s like when the web dissolved a magnet took its place. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“Why do you assume I don’t feel the same way?”

“You—” Bucky blinked, “you what?”

“Maybe I like being close to you too? Maybe I’m embarrassed because you started to run away from me?”

“Fuck, I know, I’m sorry, it’s just a new feeling for me and I don’t completely understand it, and I don’t want Stark making me feel like a fool.” He hung his head. “Which he’s doing a really good job of right now.”

“Forget Stark, he can be a raging asshole.” You spotted the way he was struggling against the restraints. “Let me make a quick call, and then we can continue this conversation.”

You quickly picked up your phone, tapped around, and held the phone to your ear. It rung three times before someone answered.

“Peter?… No, I’m not angry…Yes, I am disappointed...Just bring the web solution…No, he won’t kill you…Yes, I promise…Okay, hurry.”

You hung up and turned your attention back to Bucky.

“So, you like me?”

He felt his cheeks warm. 

“I mean… yeah. Is that okay?”

“Of course it’s okay, Bucky.” You smiled.

A minute or two later Peter knocked on the door, and peeked his head in with the formula.

“Please don’t be disappointed in me. I was just listening to Mr. Stark.” He begged you, his eyes wide looking into yours.

“Fine, I’m not disappointed.” You relented, always merciful. “But let this be a lesson in establishing boundaries. And I think I need to have a chat with Tony about taking advantage of you.”

“Thank you, thank you.” He sighed, handing you the bottle and rag.

“But, I think you owe someone else an apology.”

Peter looked Bucky in the eyes for the first time since the door opened. 

“I’m really sorry Sergeant Barnes. That wasn’t cool of me. It won’t happen again.”

“Whatever, just get outta here, kid.” He gave a small wave of his hand, which looked a bit awkward considering his forearms were still glued down.

That was pretty much as close as Bucky could get to accepting an apology.

Peter scurried off and you got to work on freeing Bucky.

Bucky was snuggled against you on the couch. He squeezed you tight, his big arms wrapped around your body. He had his head resting on your chest, and you were rubbing small circles on his back.

You had both been there for nearly an hour, unmoving from your spot.

Bucky heard you mumble a stern, “Behave,” to Tony when he walked in. Knowing he was defeated, he put his arms up in protest and walked on by without a single quip. Truly a feat for Iron Man.

He couldn’t be happier, being so close to your warmth.

Bucky didn’t know a lot of things. Like why he wasn’t dead yet, how Tony Stark could be such a pain, and what the hell is flan? But he did know one thing. That being close to you was the most perfect thing. It just feels right. You feel right. And he’s elated to know that there are a million more cuddles to come.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope this lived up to the first part, or at least was somewhat close? I hope you have a wonderful day, and let me know what you think!

[neetily]

Hi hi! I'm glad to see you again, I hope you're doing okay!!

I was wondering if you had backups for your follower event fics? If you did, I'd love to see the seb + sam fic where the reader was trapped in a fence. If you don't have access it's okay! I'm just glad you feel comfortable enough to come back. Take care <3

hello love! thank you so much for the warm welcome back <3 !! im doing so much better now, thank you :D !!

i have backups of ALL my fics surprisingly. i didn't know i would, i thought they were all lost lol... but ao3 emailed me every single one so YEAH, i have the fic ur looking for!! here it is below <3

— ✧ warnings: stuck trope, oral fixation, spitroast, blowjob, established relationship (fuckbuddies), fingering, drool, saliva, brief cunnilingus, kissing, ass slapping — ✧ word count: 3,928

The opportunity that you've so unfortunately provided them today is stressful for only one out of the three present, and she's currently only went and got her dumb ass stuck in that rickety old fence he's made a comment or two about fixing before. Even offered to fix it up for you himself, the few times he's leaned on it for stability have resulted in his complete mistrust for the splint wood, worried that it might end up hurting you one day. From his position though, and Sam's, it's rather funny to see you between the slats if nothing else. Told ya so rests heavily on the tip of his tongue, begging to be tutted down at you with as much ill-intent as he feels in his tight chest. But what escapes him instead is a loud whistle, a little walk around your embarrassing predicament so as to fully take in the regrettable situation you find yourself in, because someone has to do it, right? And it sure as fuck isn't gonna be you, your face squished against the dirt below, ass up in the air for them to gawk at— did ya have to wear a skirt today, too? Almost as if you were intending for them to walk in on the lewd sight, the kind of imagery that only exists in porn to his knowledge. Not that he's complaining, really. A smile tugging at his lips as he assesses the scene with butterflies in his tummy.

It's the perfect opportunity, really. A quick glance towards Sam offering him the filthy resolution he's been seeking. The cheeky smirk his friend wears in kind, an unspoken communication of: she won't mind, right?

Given that they've played with you on plenty occasions before; were you perhaps trying to entice them on purpose? Needy little thing like you, getting yourself stuck in such plain view like that, knowing that they were planning on visiting today to help around the farm; and not just an excuse to play with you some more, promise! His boot coming out quick to kick at the fence where you aren't posted, the shrill squeak you let out in return from feeling the vibrations run along your trapped body tells him all he needs to know.

You really are stuck, you fucking idiot.

He walks to your front, bending his knees to squat before you. One finger under your chin to help tilt your gaze up to his half-lidded stare, a knowing smirk on his lips when you let out a low huff of disapproval at his leering. "How'd this happen, then?" He cocks his head to the side, peripheral vision granting him clarity on what Sam intends to do as his friend gets situated behind you, gaze glued to your ass as you unknowingly wiggle around for freedom. All you're doing is teasing them, baby... Inherently provocative, pushing their buttons without even trying. So really, it's your own fucking fault that he's bulging in his pants right now, isn't it? Which is why he feels no guilt in openly palming away between his legs, cock already hot and heavy under his perverted touch while awaiting your surely useless reply— it doesn't matter what you have to say for yourself, he's already made his mind up. And he's sure Sam is much the same, cock quickly hardening from behind your ass at the wordless agreement to take advantage of you in such an erotic position. Wouldn't you do the same if the roles were reversed? Fuck, now that's an idea, huh?

After some time, what is in actuality probably just a few seconds of more than likely resigning to your trapped fate, you answer him with a sigh. "Was trying to fix it, like you suggested..." Course you were, he thinks to himself. Didn't think to ask him for help like how he had offered, Sam too. Knowing that a dumb little girl like you wouldn't know where to even start when it comes to fixing things, right? So it's no surprise to him that you've gotten yourself in such a sticky situation; in more ways that one, soon enough, if he and Sam have anything to do about it. And really, it's only their opinion that truly matters right now, if you want any kind of hope of escaping your self imposed confines today that is. "And— Look, I don't know exactly what happened, but I'm here now, and no matter what I do I can't get out..."

He finally lets go of that self serving tut upon your lacking explanation, smiling to himself at Sam's matching patronising laugh. It's more than a shared want to exploit you for your mishap, rather, a deep seated need to express their mutual affections for you, in perhaps the filthiest way possible. Because it's the most easily understood confession, right? The finger he's got lifting your chin up dropping, and your head swiftly follows, still eagerly palming away at the tent in his pants when Sam places a hand on your ass and you jump in response—as much as possible given your stuck position—in an honest display for their eyes to feast on. You're real cute when you're unsure, bunny.

"Need some help?" Sam asks rhetorically, but the tone he carries his words with resembles more like a sugary sweet coo rather than anything genuine. A flirt, to an extent, letting his hand lightly grab and squeeze at the fat of your barely covered ass; you always were so good at teasing them, weren't you? So you've got no one to blame but yourself when his thumb digs into your ass, pulling at the cheek to taunt your stupidity, giving you a brief wow at the assumed sliver of cunt you offer him from behind your panties. "It'd sure be a shame if someone were t'find you stuck like this, right?" He practically slurs from above, enamoured by the sight of your pretty panty clad ass greeting him. It's one he's grown used to, late at night in your bedroom, even once or twice in the saloon bathroom, taking turns with Sebastian on who keeps watch to make sure no one but themselves get to see the mess their cocks fuck you into. But nonetheless, it's a pretty sight. Especially when his fingers dig harder into your ass, so soft and plush under his perverted touch, aren't you? And so ripe for the taking too, a sweet fruit for him to indulge in while Sebastian talks all nicely to you. All platitudes and pleasantries, keeping the faux casual act up as a means to make the situation just a little hotter. And it gets to Sam, too. Cock pulsing in his tight pants as you wiggle under his exploring touch, driven to tease you some more with the low condescending hum Sebastian lets out, as if he were scolding you.

But he's not, is he? The drone of his voice conveying only appreciation, instead. A small thanks for offering them such a prime opportunity. "Oh, but someone has found you, haven't we?" He begins, the sound of his zipper surely causing you to shiver some more against Sam's hands, made worse only by the tinkle of his friends belt unbuckling, quickly dropping to the ground beside you with a muted thud! "You're lucky it was us, sweetheart," He continues, fighting with his jeans to be able to tug them down low enough to let his cock spring free, the cool air that greets his red hot tip prompting beads of precum to drip for you. Aren't you thirsty, baby? It's a rather warm day today, after all, and God knows how long you've been stuck there. Thankfully, he knows exactly how to help quench you.

"Lucky t'have your friends here t'help you out, right?" Sam picks up where Sebastian left off, taking a harsh suck of air through gritted teeth when he inevitably starts playing with your panties out of instinct. Pinging them against you like the sadist he seems to be, just to hear you whine and beg for mercy. And he laughs to himself, dark and deep, all toothy for Sebastian to mimic when Sam too hauls his cock out of his underwear. Sebastian can't help but noticed the throb of it, veins popped with all the blood collected there. God you're so pretty when you're being so easy for them like this, Sebastian's chest tight at the mere thought of abusing your sorry state of affairs, cock leaking for you before he's even enacted his twisted plans.

"Guys, please—" You plead so prettily, did y'know that? The honeyed tone you adopt can only mean one thing, simply hearing you implore them to be of any actual use is enticing enough, Sebastian's cock twitching and dripping before you. But he waits, listens patiently to hear your plea before denying you the right of salvation. You'll get there, soon enough, but don't you owe them something first? "I've been here for so long, it hurts a little... Can you quit teasing and actually help me?"

They both bark laughter down at you, Sebastian taking to idly fucking his fist while Sam lazily flips your skirt up, enough to allow him to hook a finger under the waistband of your panties to pull them down. Sebastian watches as they pool around your ankle, squeezing the base of his cock a few times in response to Sam's rolled back eyes. "She's so wet already, Seb." Sam rasps, immediately poking and prodding about your perfect angel cunt like routine, finger stroking out those dulcet toned moans for Sebastian to affectionately smile at. Dirty girl, do you like getting caught?

"This what you need help with, right?" Sebastian coos down at you, once again lifting your head up to meet his sultry gaze, swallowing thickly at the sight of your furrowed brows and wobbly lips. His own throat dries as you stare back at him, knowing that he could cum at just the mere thought of your open, wanting, ready to receive cock, mouth. And here you are offering him that sulky expression for free; God, makes his cock ache from how desperately he needs you. "Sure seems like it," He huffs, expression turned a little more serious in the face of your unashamed lust; you might need actual help in freeing yourself, but you can't resist the opportunity of their attack, can you? You're no fucking better than they are, panting over you as if you were the tastiest fucking meal in the world, teeth baring in barely contained excitement to take a bite of you.

And Sam only confirms your stance with how squishy your cunt sounds for him, squelching and sucking his fingers in every time he buries them knuckle deep in your cunt. Exploring your insides like he's done countless times before, and yet still he's impressed with how soft and warm you are. Just a little stretching to help you take his cock, right? You're so used to him by now, don't you love the stretch he provides you? "Bet y'did this on purpose, didn't ya?" He sneers, knowing you can't properly reply when he's flicking the pads of his fingers against your soft spot.

"No... Promise, ah— It— It was an honest mistake..." You mumble your innocence, but the sound of your whiny moans thanks to Sam's fingers deep in your cunt goes right through Sebastian, straight down to his raging hard on that needs attending to, now that you've went and riled him up so easily like that. Joining his friend in kind when he grabs hold of his cock, still keeping your face up for your glassy eyes to peer at him, only... He now angles his cock right in front of you. Dangles it there, waggling it just out of reach of your lips to enjoy your eager whining. He's acting cocky for a reason, confident in Sam's abilities to finger fuck you all better so that he can have some fun with that expert mouth of yours— fuck, so good with your tongue, aren't you? And if he's honest with himself, he'd rather be balls deep down your throat than in your cunt, even if only by a small margin. Taking the opportunity to tap his tip against your lips when they part in pleasure, all thanks to Sam. Toying with you to his hearts content as you remain prone to his mistreatment, smearing fat globs of precum all over your pretty lips to leave them all wet and glossy for him to admire. You wear him well, he thinks to himself. Rolling his eyes to the back of his head when you deftly poke your tongue out for him, he was right. You are thirsty, aren't you? Being stuck must be hard work, poor girl... He's more than happy enough to give you a little drink— ecstatic, even, at the prospect of having your cute pouty lips wrapped tight around his cock. Needs it, really. Now that you've gone and provoked his open book obsession by lolling your tongue out, drooling to the ground under you in a lewd display. You're just so attractive to him, his heart skipping a beat at the way your body begs for his unfair touch. He only means to help you, right?

He's only doing you a favour by dipping his tip to your tongue, exhaling sharply at the wetness that immediately greets him. This must be how Sam feels right now, yeah? Fingering slick from your cunt while Sebastian indulges in your spit. Letting you kitten lick at it for a bit, merely watching you with curiosity as your eyelashes flutter shut so prettily he has no choice but to fall to his knees in submission. Fuck, you're already making him feel so good. If he could keep your moth attached to his cock forever, he'd do so in a heartbeat. Warm, wet, and so skilled; fucked that tight throat enough times to train you into being his personal blowjob hole, huh? Seething to himself at the way you lap up all of the copious amounts of precum your tongue coaxes from his cock, eyes trained on the cute pout you soon adorn because Sam's found your sweet spot. Not surprising, given that he's usually deep in your cunt some way every weekend, but Sebastian reacts as he usually does. With a hushed curse under his breath, instinctively bringing a hand up to your lips to fish hook your mouth back open for him. Leaking pre at the feeling of your saliva coating his fingers, drool collecting down his wrist as your tongue once again pokes out for his own selfish enjoyment. Taught you well, didn't he?

It's just that you look so good with a mouth full of cock, don't you? Hovering above you, repositioning himself so that it's easier to glide his cock down your throat when Sam withdraws his fingers from your cunt, causing Sebastian to grown out of desperation when his friend starts to coat his own cock with your slick. He knows how slippery you can get, but the view he has of your face from above, adorned by an aware welling of tears from their unjust treatment of your wedged body right now, is something he'd rather be viewing. Something he'd rather be taking advantage of, pressing his fat tip to your wanting tongue just in time to feel you rush a gasp out against him when Sam ultimately pushes his cock into your tight heat from behind out of necessity. A natural conclusion to seeing you present your holes to them today, Sebastian too taking advantage of you by sinking himself deeper into your mouth, causing your moans from Sam's slow rutting into you to become muffled around his cock.

"Jus' cashing in a favour before setting you free, babe." Sam struggles to get out from behind you, and Sebastian lets you know he agrees by tauntingly tapping at your cheek a few times. More spit, baby.

And you take them both so well, like a well trained dog, or a practiced doll. Easily allowing them to use you to their hearts content, a seedy sordid type of affair as they both fill you up all at once, leaving you a mere object of their affections as you're forced to accept their spitroast. But you're such a champ, God, Sebastian shoving his cock as far as he can down your tight throat until you start to gag a little, sweet little sounds vibrating around his tip for him to shudder a breath at. And Sam, eager to get the party started as per usual, offers you a brief smack on the ass with a wide grin. His tone tense when he praises you with: "So good, tight fuckin' body just wants to be fucked, right?" before he starts a quick enough pace to leave even Sebastian a bit winded from the sudden stimulation provided by your soft tongue rocked back and forth his throbbing cock.

Not that Sam can be faulted, mind you. Sebastian, too, wants to start ruining you, two palms secure on your cheeks to keep your head situated in the right place for him to fuck your throat in. Bending his body towards the fence, leaning his head against the broken post for stability so that all you can see is his pelvis, nose pushed up against his pubes every time Sam greedily fucks you forward. Sebastian winces a little at your movements, knowing that the wood might be scraping against your tender frame with how selfish Sam's thrusts are, but he can't bring himself to say anything about it when your tongue snakes around his length so well, just the way he likes. A blessing and a curse, honestly. Drool collecting in your mouth for him to fuck into, completely coating his cock in all of your saliva, feeling some of it dribble down your chin to land on his balls when he starts to fuck your throat in tandem with Sam's humps. Which is so fucking hot by the way, fuck— how you're unable to contain yourself, dribbling all over him so nicely that his tummy flips with excitement. You deserve some more praise for indulging him, he thinks. For getting yourself stuck in the first place, as well as for servicing them so perfectly; but your tight throat leaves him gasping for air. Panting over the fence as he takes in the sight of Sam's determination too, greedy hands gripping harshly to your hips, brows knitting together in sheer focus of your tight angel cunt. And then, their eyes meet. Mid stroke together, matching each others speed and intensity flawlessly as you choke and sputter between them, bet your squishy thighs are trembling together too, huh? Your dainty hands attempting to find purchase in the ground below as Sebastian's balls repeatedly knock against your chin, tacky with spit as his fat cock cuts off your air supply.

And what's a little kiss shared amongst friends, right? It wouldn't be the first, and it sure as shit won't be the last from how enthusiastically Sam leans forward, tongue already wetting his lips before Sebastian meets him with heated arousal. Openly moaning down each others throats as soon as possible, listening intently to your wet little cunt suck Sam's cock off so well, and your muffled whines for more when Sebastian pulls your head closer to his crotch with every desperate fuck down your throat. You're so perfect for them, pretty pursed lips wrapped so nicely around his pulsing cock, one of his hands slipping to the back of your head in plain need to fuck deeper, to feel the way your throat closes around his dribbling tip as you're forced to drink up all his spilling precum; just like how he's made to swallow every drop of saliva Sam drips onto his tongue, less sharing a heated kiss and more so acting like dogs. Lips barely pressed together, tongues interlocked, delving into each others mouths without ever fully closing the kiss, resulting in drool pooling onto your exposed ass.

It's all a bit too much for Sebastian. To be doing something so lewd out in public— fuck, anyone could walk by, couldn't they? And maybe they already have, greeted to the sight of the towns cute little farmer getting fucking abused by her best friends fat cocks, watching the way Sam and himself encourage the other to continue degrading you on your own turf by way of the intense kiss they share, moaning, humping, hands slipping and cocks gliding; God that's so hot, isn't it?

Hot enough for his fingers to intertwine in your hair, tugging on it harshly as a warning for his approaching orgasm. Sam, too, slaps your ass again once pulling away from the kiss. A look of pure pleasure on his face, coated in a light sheen of spit for Sebastian to stare at with adoration. Both huffing and moaning above you, too lost in the satisfaction your pretty body provides them to give you the compliments you deserve, too busy making themselves feel good by fucking your tight little holes to verbalize their thanks, their appreciation.

But you understand, right? You know that as Sam gives you a final brutal fuck, resting his heavy balls against your sopping cunt, bullying his tip against your cervix as a fat load shoots out just for you, that he's saying thank you, right? And that when Sebastian shoves his cock right down your closing throat, ignoring the sweet sputters for air you choke around him, the way you flail around is so fucking hot, fuck, keep struggling to take him, baby, keeping your face flush against his pelvis so that he can properly reward you with his spilling seed to coat your throat all sticky, that he's saying thank you too, right? Both men heaving above and behind you, revelling in the feeling of your still needy body attempting to suckle them some more in hopes of reaching your own end, fuck, so good. Poor thing, they've neglected to appropriately tend to you in their rush to use you, haven't they?

But as Sam pulls out of your stretched hole, Sebastian follows. Hearts in his eyes at the way you immediately hack and cough towards the ground, drool still yet dripping from your pretty lips for him to smile lovingly at.

Not a word is shared, Sebastian content enough just to watch you struggle some more while Sam repositions himself to lay on the ground, face up towards your cunt as his arms wrap around your lower back, gently tugging you a bit closer to his nose for him to huff at your sweet cunt scent. Gross, isn't it? How the semen that sticks to your hole makes it smell all the better to him, dirty fucking pervert that he is.

A single lap at your slit is all it takes to have you moaning again, and for inspiration to strike Sebastian and his still rock hard cock.

Maybe he can have a shot of your cunt now, yeah? Or, maybe he'd like to shut you up again. Keep your cock holster mouth quiet so no one can find them forcefully misusing you. He does so love fucking that pretty mouth of yours, finding himself staring down at it again as you whimper oh so seductively for them.

They're only doing it to help you though, remember?

[ratsandclocks]

Sharing (part 1)

(Male Reader/Rodolfo Parra/Valeria Garza/Alejandro Vargas/Phillip Graves)

📝3,508 words(oops) | 18+ | Smut

Alejandro and Graves cannot seem to get along when it comes to having you. Valeria and Rudy hate seeing you upset. They stir up a plan where everyone is happy at the end of the night.

Tags: polyamorous, F/M/M/M/M, Sub/Dom dynamics, pillow prince reader, punishment, restraints, forced proximity, voyeurism, oral(m & f receiving), anal fingering, self imposed edging, overstimulation, subspace(?), no use of y/n, use of petnames; Babe, Baby, Babyboy, Cielito, Cariño, Corazoncito

Dom Valeria, Dom Rudy, Switch Alejandro, Switch Graves, Sub Male Reader.

Note: This took a bit longer to write since you can see, the fic itself got longer than I first anticipated. I tried my best to give everyone some attention but its hard when there's five fucking people. Might finish tomorrow or the day after depending how busy I get but I'll try to update as soon as I can. Anyways this has gotten out of hand... and into the other cuz im jerking off—

Disclaimer: Author does not speak Spanish(fluently) and only used Google for minimum research. If any of the Spanish words used seem off, grammatically incorrect, and/or inappropriate, please inform me and I'll try to fix them.

A petty argument. One that's been going on for about a week between Alejandro and Graves. That's what got you all in this position.

You don't even remember what it was they were fighting about—could be that food you left on the fridge for them that they decidedly did not want to share with each other, could be Philip's now-empty bottle of aftershave that you like the smell of so much, could be that time you wore his shirt to sleep instead of Alejandro's—who cares what the fight was, all you know is that there's heat between them when it comes to you and you did not like that…

Now Rudy didn't like seeing you in distress, neither did Valeria. So naturally, they'd do something about that. And sure enough, they did.

"You're fucking with me." Graves says, as a matter of factly as he watched Rudy handcuff his right hand with Alejandro's left to his pure dismay. Their other hands weren't free either, as they were as tightly tied to their respective sides of the sofa, leaving them immobilized and stuck close to each other. Looking at them together feels like watching two dogs wary of each other, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation—you were simply glad that they cannot do anything about it, but you do pity their place. Their seat was facing the bed, right where you sat with Valeria comfortably kneeling beside you, the two of you not wearing more than your shirt and underwear.

"I'm not." Rudy responded firmly, arms crossed as he glared at the two. "You don't get to touch mi Cielito or yourselves. Not until you start getting along."

"Rudy…" you plead in their defense, but the man only looked at you softly, denied you with a shake of his head, then walked closer towards the bed.

"Don't feel too bad about them now, Cariño." Valeria cooed to you, absently stroking your hair. Her eyes were on the two tied up men while she spoke, directing her words to them just as much. "They weren't being nice, were they?"

"I'm not being nice?" Alejandro finally spoke, pointing his left hand to himself accusingly, only for Graves to pull away the same handcuffed arm. "Look at him!" Alejandro defended himself.

"You've upset our boy, Gilipollas." Rudy lectured, eyes still on yours. You would've said something—another plea or something along the lines of 'you don't have to do this' or 'it's not a big deal'—but Rudy was sitting with you now, hands on your chin to face him and stare at his longing eyes, and that look effectively shut you up. "He deserves way better from you both."

You gasped in surprise when Valeria gripped your hair to pull your head back, her lips suddenly latched onto your neck, already finding the sensitive spot just under your ear. "That he does."

Hands were all over you in a matter of seconds. Valeria's were groping and undressing you, not rushing but surely more forceful than Rudy's. He was way gentler compared to her, softly caressing every inch of your skin she exposes as he kissed your mouth, slowly but just as passionately as Valeria's. All of it familiar, all of it just right.

Heat rushes up your skin. It was already making you lightheaded, their contrast nearly giving you whiplash, but you love seeing their differences, making up for what each other lacked. How they mix so well just to please you, all of them and more just for you—something you wish Alejandro and Phillip could do together.

"You were the one who stole my shit." You heard Graves grumbling. When you looked at him, your eyes met and caught him in a scowl, but his frustrations were clearly directed towards the man beside him.

"It's a shared bathroom, Pendejo." Alejandro quipped, to which he earned a tug on the cuffs from the other man. He tugged back and now they look like little brats fighting over a piece of candy. You couldn't help but frown at the sight, which Rudy quite immediately notices.

"Ey!" He yelled at them and the two men froze in an instant. "You keep fighting like that and you won't get to touch him at all."

"It's not fair, Rudy." Alejandro whined, easily switching from hostility to something more submissive, something he does that usually riles up Rudy. Not tonight though.

"And you're not being fair to him either. Just look—" at that, Alejandro finally looked at you. Your brows furrowed and eyes slightly teary, and clearly not for the reason of being in the debauched position Valeria's hands put you in. Oh how that just breaks his heart, seeing his poor corazoncito longing for him, so close yet so far. How hurt you must be from all his stubbornness.

"You think he wants you two away? That he doesn't want you here with him right now? Think he doesn't want to feel you inside him? You two are the ones depriving our lover of yourselves. Think about that."

"Do you want them, Cariño?" Valeria lewdly whispered to your ears, but loud enough that the other men could hear it. You only nodded, unable to form words while she trails her hands into your boxers, rubbing and stroking you under the garment. "Want their cocks inside of you? Touch every inch of your skin? Fuck you 'til you can't walk like you deserve it?"

"Mhm…" you moaned when her hand gripped your cock, your hips involuntary fucking into her hand.

"Then they gotta be good, right? Else they don't deserve you. Bad boys don't get to touch my sweet sweet boy."

She's pulled you out now and your cock was on full display for them all, hard and dripping as she stroked it. Rudy took off your boxers, throwing it haphazardly somewhere in the room to be picked up later in the next morning. When Valeria let go of you, Rudy took over quickly, teasing his thumb on your slit and you arched your back, promptly falling onto the bed with a whine. You were panting when he let the teasing off, but he didn't stop stroking you in slow firm tugs. Valeria chuckled fondly at the sight as she's taking off her panties, giving you and the rest of the men a show.

"Look at him, Rudy," she says, seductively crawling back towards you, "so sweet and sensitive. Such a shame they won't get a taste."

"Val…" you whined, reaching for her. She's cradling your face now, making you look straight into her eyes.

"You need something, Cariño?" It was almost condescending how she said it, but god if it weren't making you desperately buck into Rudy's hand you would've complained.

"Need you… up here—" she kissed you then—mouth on yours, full of hunger, moans and grunts, teeth and tongue, completely overpowering you—before pulling away and crawling farther. She moved to hover just above your head, legs on either side as she reposition herself with her cunt just above your face. Another whine escaped you when her hands went back to your hair, pressing you into the bed.

"Show me then," she ordered, "show me how much you need me. Show them what they're missing out on."

Your hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her down and ravaging her like she's the last meal of your life. You lap your tongue at her, burying your face deeper and pushing in your tongue farther. Nose nuzzling to her clit so perfectly that she twitches above you. She was clearly amused, letting out an exaggerated moan to egg on the tied up men.

"So good for me, Cariño. There, there, just like that—dios mio, that tongue! So good. Keep going, baby. They don't deserve you like this."

"Fuck's sake." Graves grunted. Valeria knows just how much he loves your mouth, because you know how to use it. He loves it when you kiss him and try to win him over, giving a good fight only to let him take charge in the end. He loves when you nip and bite on his skin, not too hard to hurt but just soft enough to make him feel like heaven. He loves when you suck on his cock desperately like it's your life on the line, loves how you use that tongue oh so sweetly around him. He loves everything about that mouth of yours, and now Valeria's using it against him.

You thrust your hips when you felt Rudy's tongue circling on your tip. He lifted one of your legs up with his free hand, squeezing lube on your balls to drip onto your ass, and proceeding to tease a finger into your hole. It wasn't much trouble prepping you—with how much you get fucked all the time, surely it won't be—but he still takes his time with it, pushing in slowly, always in search of something, making sure you feel good all throughout. He fucked you earnestly with those fingers, twitching when he found that spot that melts your bones and he instantly stopped with his movements, only to start profusely rubbing that spot and make you whine shamelessly.

And you heard Alejandro let out a strangled groan, now fully aware of Rudy's intentions to tease him.

"So cruel, mi rey." He groaned at the sight, he can see so clearly when Rudy's putting you on display like that. He always loved your ass—loved the involuntary movements you make and sounds you let out when it was him playing with you, making you feel good, when you squeeze around his cock plunged deep into you. God, does he wish it was him in Rudy's place, and Rudy knows that really well, so he's making it a show. Rudy pulled his mouth away.

"Keep watching." Rudy spoke before shoving your cock straight down his throat without a warning.

You moaned into Valeria's cunt, sending shivers down her spine and she chuckled. Now fully sat on your face, she grinds her hips on you, vigorously chasing her high until she stiffens above you, letting out a long moan and sigh in relief as she came on your face. She gave a few more thrusts into your tongue before getting off to the side, lifting you to lay your body between her thighs.

"Would you look at that, Babe." She addressed Graves who is now looking at you with a certain thirst in his gaze. Your face glistening in Val's wetness, eyes closed and brows furrowed in pleasure as Rudy kept bobbing his head, working you up. Valeria's hands traveled to your chest, pinching your nipples and making your back arch. "You wanna come, cariño?" She asked and Rudy sucked on the tip of your cock his fingers fucking into you faster to get you off quicker. But you mewled in response, head shaking as you held tightly on her arms and he immediately slowed his movements down.

"No?" Rudy asks, a heated look on his face. "What do you want then? Wanna get fucked in the ass, mi Cielito? Need a cock to come on to?"

You didn't need to say anything more, you nodded and Rudy carefully let you go. Your chest was heaving and you felt weak, too deep into the headspace Valeria had put you in and the pleasure you were just swimming in. You couldn't move on your own and so the two of them worked together to reposition you.

Now you're facing the men on their seats, your chest pressing on the bed with your ass up in the air. The men in front of you were looking at you with a certain darkness in their eyes, they seem painfully hard under their tight pants, their chests rising visibly with their heavy breathing. Graves couldn't stay still in his seat, constantly moving as if it'll do anything to ease the tightness in his pants—it doesn't.

"Phillip…" you whined, eyes staring at him with haze, god you were so pretty. The man could only groan in response.

"You alright, Baby?" Graves asked, because as much as he wants to take care of you, it's all he could do.

Rudy's hand was on you again, splayed out on the bottom of your spine while the other held his cock, teasing your hole just before slowly prodding in. He was big, you knew that—you're used to it, in fact—but it never fails to make you keen, feeling the stretch no matter how much grueling prep he gives you. You bit your lip as you tried to relax, sighing when you finally felt him bottom out.

"You were asked a question, Cielito." Rudy reminded you, hand reaching to stroke your hair as if to help you ground yourself. You leaned into the touch as you moaned, letting out an affirmative 'Mhm' to answer.

"I'm good…" you sighed, plopping yourself back into the bed, your hands reached to clench the sheets and prepare yourself. You grind your ass to feel Rudy's cock and it's all he needed before he started fucking you.

It was slow and sensual, dragging his thick cock to the tip before slowly pushing in again. You could almost feel every vein on him, every time his head almost caught on that sweet spot inside you but just barely missed—you knew he's doing it on purpose.

"So pretty, isn't he?" You heard Valeria. You don't remember when but she's now behind Alejandro and Graves, caressing Phillip's face with one hand while exploring Alejandro's body with the other. Graves had his head leaning against her while the other man was tense in his seat, trying—failing—to feign control of his desires.

"See what you're fighting for? Getting fucked raw without you?" Valeria said to Phillip, lightly biting his ear to tease before turning to Alejandro neck. "All because you don't know how to share."

You screamed when Rudy suddenly slammed into you, slowly pulling out before slamming back in. Then he took pace, quickening without losing the strength in his thrusts. You were a moaning mess, broken noises leaving your mouth as air gets punched out of your lungs.

"Does it feel good?" Valeria asked and you barely registered that it was directed at you, all you could manage was a pathetic whimper as Rudy mercilessly pounded into you, "Words, Cariño."

"S'good… s-so—" you let out a yelp when Rudy finally hits that spot, deciding to keep abusing it and leaving you a thoughtless, sobbing, mewling mess under him—Under Valeria, and under all of their gazes. You were boneless on the bed, head in the clouds, you felt like you'd float through the ceiling any second, and you were thankful for the moment Rudy put his weight on your back, engulfing you with warmth as perched his hands on the side of your head.

Your gaze wandered through the room, processing anything was a struggle with your mind being full of haze, but you could see Graves struggling through his breathing and the bulge in his uncomfortably tight jeans. He bit his lips as your eyes met and you could only imagine the torture he was in right now. You were like a caged man observing a hungry shark in the ocean—you can see the urge it had to pounce, to destroy the barrier between you, and devour you til you're nothing but bones. But he can't have his way, can't even touch himself, can't give himself any relief. All he could do was simply watch you in your position, so enticing, so good for them all.

It was when he broke the connection between you that you noticed Alejandro had his hand on Graves' thighs, slowly rubbing up on him with a proud smirk on his face.

"The hell are you doing?" He asked Alejandro, a little wary, but just as much curious of the man's intentions.

"Can't touch ourselves, but they didn't say anything about touching each other. Might as well give the boy a little show." Alejandro said, his hand traveling farther into Graves' inner thigh. His breath hitched, swallowing a lump in his throat at the teasing touch. "Unless you'd rather you sit your ass there wishing you could get off by just watching."

"No." Graves said firmly without missing a beat—much to your surprise. He closed his eyes, rested his head back and let out a sigh, "Keep… keep going…"

That proud smirk on Alejandro's face got impossibly more smug and he did not hesitate to move his hand straight to Graves' bulge, pressing and rubbing on it with enough pressure to make the man keen and relax on his seat. Alejandro was quick to decide to unbutton Phillip's jeans, shoving his hand in and pulling his cock out. It was painfully red, dripping and desperate, and by God did you want it in your mouth right now.

You would've begged Rudy to let you suck off the man, but Alejandro is quicker than you could think. He was already leaning down—as uncomfortable the restraints make it—and licking the precum before it could drip down his shaft, then bobbing his head while his hand pumped the man's shaft. Phillip let out a sigh, finally opening his eyes to find Valeria beside him, looking down at him with amusement.

"What?" Graves panted, eyes heavy as he tried to read Valeria's look.

"Nothing," she feigned, leaning down closer to the man, then pulling his head back til his neck was exposed enough to the woman's desire, watching the man's throat bob as he swallowed, "you just look so cute getting along."

She kissed him with vigor, the other hand cradling his neck and their mouth fought for dominance with Valeria at an advantage. Her hand traveled to his chest, squeezing it once before traveling farther down his stomach, tracing every muscle until she reached Alejandro's head. She pulled him off and you can see his stubble glistening from his own spit, she quickly moved into kissing him now, freeing her other hand to reach for Graves' cock, covering Alejandro's bigger hand and pumping it together.

As much as you wanted to keep watching, you couldn't look anymore with how much Rudy was trying to keep your attention on his cock, it was a task to even keep your eyes open. Desperately needing to ground yourself, you reach for Rudy's hand, which he decided to interlock with yours. You gripped it like a lifeline, feeling that heat in your stomach starting to overfill and you were tightening around Rudy.

"Oh? You close, Cielito?" Rudy panted next to your ear, "Are you gonna come? Go ahead, you can do it. Come on my cock."

You didn't need to be told twice. Your cock twitched and soon enough, you came hard, face buried into the mattress muffling your otherwise loud moan, shuddering from the pleasure that shot through your spine.

Rudy fucked you through your orgasm, riding it out with you until the sensation starts edging into overwhelming pleasure. He was still pounding into you, quicker and harder, chasing his own end.

"So close, mi Cielito. Just a little more, I know you can take more. Take it."

Your legs are near to giving up, thighs shook from the exertion, but you stayed still, stayed good for him and let him use you all he wants. You were rewarded with a tight embrace, and the warm feeling of his cum painting your walls. He finally slowed down, hips stuttering as he slowly pulled out. Your legs finally gave out and you went limp on the soft mattress, Rudy followed with you to keep embracing you from behind, giving your back little pecks of kisses and nuzzling on your shoulder.

"Muy bien, mi Cielito. You did so good for me." You felt his warm breath on your neck as he kissed you just under your ear, caressing your hips and just showering you with all the love he could give. You'd love to stay like that for eternity, engulfed in his affection, you could never get used to it. Unfortunately, it had to end sooner than you wished. He pulled away, leaving your behind exposed to the cold air, but not for long as you felt strong arms flip you to lay on your back.

You find all of them above you, even Alejandro and Graves now free from their restraints on the seat.

"Still with us, Cariño?" Asked Valeria and you smiled, letting out a sigh that's more of a stuttered laugh. You couldn't help the heat crawling back up your skin seeing them all looking down at you, you swallowed a lump in your throat before answering.

"Never left." You spoke, part smugness, part teasing. They all smiled, fully understanding what you meant by those words alone—more.

"Good." Alejandro growls, and your stomach drops at the feral look he gives you, his smile widening, tongue going over his teeth like watching food served to him on a silver platter.

"Because two of us just learned how to share."

(To be continued…)