#protect this pretty man at all costs

[bubblegumlefty]

I'm not feeling so good right now (I think I might have a slight case of food poisoning)... so have this pretty picture of a smiling Baby Hardy to make your night just a little better. 👼

[tireddovahkiin]

HAVE YOU SEEN THIS MAN???

... Now you have😊

[kimis-gloves]

OSCAR. 😍🧡

[romance-sick]

The newest addition to my bedroom💖💖

I’ll probably get a better frame for it, but LOOK AT THAT 🥵🫠

I’m dying. And now I’m dead.

[marmaruuu]

Baby gurl

[iiiiiiis-things]

idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

[yeyinde]

appetite | Alpha!Simon Riley

it's been decades since Alpha!Ghost had a rut. something that's probably for the best, really. his want is as hideous as he is. as ugly as his goddamn mug. it's best kept tucked away, secured under lock and key.

but then he finds you. and you're all alone. unclaimed, on the verge of heat. poor thing. it triggers a voracious rut. decades worth of want spilling out over you. you're it, he knows. feels the certainty in that statement simmering in his hindbrain, in his essence. he'll have you—now, forever. non-negotiable. where you go, he will follow.

but you run from him. stupid girl. didn't anyone teach you not to run from a starving wolf?

dubcon. size kink. size difference. a/b/o dynamics: knotting, rut. breeding kink. spit kink. implied virgin!reader. obsessive behaviour. possessive!Ghost. semi-public sex. reluctant reader bullied into submission lmao. forced bonds. implied kidnapping. basically, you're hunted down and fucked by Alpha!Simon who growls in your ear about how he's waited his whole life for you. and lucky him. he finally found you

AO3

It's been years, decades, since he had a rut. 

(Broken Alpha. Ruined.)

Trauma, they tell him, will do that. Sever the drive in the back of his head, the one that rears—vicious and angry—each mating season, bringing with it the urge to breed. To claim. Own. 

A form of self-preservation. It pitches a plexiglass of protection between him and his instincts, not letting them merge. Join. Done so because to be in rut, to want, to need, is vulnerability. It costs hypervigilance. Turns man into beast. Animal. 

This bodily reaction makes an alpha extend themselves, like an overarching limb, to shield the omega they pick as a mate. Bearing their own neck to save another. 

Naturally, they say, if he couldn't help himself, how could he ever hope to protect a fragile little omega? 

They tell him it could be as permanent or temporary as he allows. Healing, they say. Time. Laughable, really. And utter nonsense because Ghost is fine. 

Trauma tampered. Revenge sought, found. There's no one out there who could ever harm him, and still—

His last rut was before the mission that buried him alive. That turned him into the living dead. A mockery of man. Frankensteinian beast. 

It's not something he cares much for, anyway. From what he remembers of his youth—vague snippets of memories, disjointed, blurred sensation; a profound need, an urge, to sink his cock into something, to plug them up, to bite—ruts have always been a nuisance. In the way. An annoyance that took time away from what he'd rather be doing. 

And as Johnny enters his—skin pallid, waxy; cheeks flushed, eyes darkening like a brewing storm on the horizon; snapping at anything that breathes, whining like a dog, miserable and hot, all the time (ahm’a bleedin’ furnace, s’what ah’m)—he finds he doesn't care very much to go reclaim what he lost. 

No skin off his nose. Nothing to concern himself with. 

Besides. Omegas know better. 

Even before he lost himself, dying, rotting in a tumulus, pretty little omegas with their soft hands and bashful smiles always went out of their way to avoid him. Miserable alpha. His scent alone wards them off—burnt leather, charred bones; sarcophagus dust, dirt—and he found himself alone during his burgeoning ruts more often than not. 

No pretty little thing to tender the sweat on his brow, or bend over and present for him—offering up a sweet little cunt he got to bury himself inside, tie up nice and tight on his knot. 

It was usually his hand. A bottle of bourbon. A printed porn stash he swiped from Tommy, who nicked it off their old man—

And when he did find a partner, it was always transactional. Hand to hand, an exchange of money. All clinical and detached. Empty. Fucking into a concept instead of a person; a vacuum eating away at his soul because he knew, then, that they wanted to be there almost as much as he did. 

But what choice did either have when their home was the rotted gullet of a dying beast?

(Simon told them to stay away from shitty men like him, who broke bones in the throes of his heat, snapped his jowls at anything that got too close, and had to be chained to the bed like an animal during it—)

Nothing to miss. Nothing to mourn. 

And it's not like he doesn't get the urge. Wanting to sink his cock into something warm, wet, is as recurring as a sweet tooth. A prickle in the back of his head after he devours his dinner that says, dessert might be nice. 

He can fuck, but his knot never pops. A worry the doctors had—unsure what the consequences would be in the long run for such a virile, young Alpha already experiencing nature's version of erectile dysfunction so early in life. 

(“pity the poor omega who has to deal with that rut,” they whispered. “might not be much of anything left of them when he's through.”)

Inconsequential now because he's pushing forty and his last rut was a false trigger. One dragged out of him by drugs and torture. The last true rut, natural and instinctual, was when he was eighteen. 

It's doubtful he'd suddenly be cured at his age. 

This is what he tells Johnny when he asks, pries. Broken fuck, ain't he? Unmated. Can't knot. Piss poor excuse of an Alpha. Doesn't he think it's—

“a shame,” Johnny grouses, words muffled slightly by the way he's hunched over the cheap plastic table in the canteen. His fingers dig harshly into his temple. “Alpha like you—” it's enunciated in clipped Queen's English, the barb makes Ghost scoff. “—ack! a waste. ma mam would be livid. no grandbabies t’show off? sacrilegious.”

—funny. If he's being honest. Laughable:

because for as long as Ghost can remember, he's always had a predilection to ruin his favourite toys. slaking his unquenchable lust on their tender skin, biting down to the bone, sipping on their marrow—

not really the sort of thing omegas today go for, is it? 

his want is as hideous as he is. as ugly as his goddamn mug—

Instead, he shrugs. “hardly.” 

“yer no’ missin’ it?” 

“missin’ what, Johnny?”

“knottin’, ye surly prick.” He jeers, then, jabs his elbow into Simon's arm. “a bonnie omega to stick yer prick in. ain't missin’ th’, no?”

“no,” Simon gripes. The last thing Price needs is another order of protection against his Lieutenant. But to humour the alpha in an early stage of rut, he jabs out, hollow and full of wretched derision. “i can barely remember what it felt like. must be heaven, though. is that your plans for tonight, Johnny? gonna go and knot some sorry omega?”

It's meant to prod, poke. Sharp barbs aimed at Johnny's threadbare control, the same one held in place by a fraying, unspooling knot. Alphas in the early stage of rut are considered safe enough to be around. Not yet mindless drones, hosts to an ugly little parasite; a being forced to obey a single, instinctual drive to mate, to gorge themselves into a post-rut stupor. 

Safe. Or so they say. 

But Ghost knows what Johnny's feeling in the same sense as a phantom limb. A broken, fragmented memory. So, he twists his mockery in deep. All in jest, of course. 

And Johnny pales suddenly. Wavers in his seat. The affirmative comes after a bout of contemplative silence. A jagged, choked yeah slips from his Sergeant’s mouth as he drops his head to the table, and groans. Miserable. 

“go fuck yerself, Lt.”

Simon intends on taking Johnny up on that offer, lazying out on the futon with his hand stroking lazily along his flaccid cock, thumbing through the latest series of snapshots Johnny—ever the photographer—snapped up during his previous rut. Images of pretty omegas dressed up in fine silk, blood-red lingerie, and coy little grins on their faces, a vixen pastiche of demureness. Jejune appeal in all its coquettishness.

Innocent sluts—Johnny's preferred type. Ones who'll bat their eyes at him, nervous and full of faux modesty, while they rock back and forth on his face, tugging on his mohawk to make him lick their cunts just the way they like. Sweet, like candy. Dressed in sin. 

He likes to take before and after photos of them—often with the pretty models unaware (adds to it, aye, Lt?). Ones with them batting their eyes at him, soft and shy in all their twee delight, and then fucked out, ruined and chewed up like a broken toy when he finishes with them. Bitten off more than they can swallow. Cheeky brats sobbing for mercy on his bed. 

Likes, even more, to send them to Ghost. A little tease. One he has no compunction about partaking in. Enjoying to his heart's content. 

Or—

Intended to, of course. Because what ends up happening is this:

Price calls just as he's getting into the new series sent to his phone—the tear streaks streaming down this omega’s face are particularly appealing, bound in intricate Celtic knots (Johnny, the artist), and gagged with their own panties—and tells him he has a job for him. 

Something simple. Discreet. And local, too. Bears have been sighted in town—a mama and her cubs. Dangerously close. 

The prelude to the phone call is a clipped take care’a it before the line goes dead. 

Ghost doesn't need to pack much—he can't remember the last time he unpacked his duffle bag, anyway—and stays in the recliner until the mission file comes in, idly stroking his thumb across the pixelated, tear-streaked face of the omega in Johnny's clutch. Moussed. Messy. They make the prettiest picture, don't they? Drool dripping down their chin, a spillover from what the lacy, white panties couldn't catch. 

Flesh peppered with jagged circles, bite marks. Johnny knows better than to claim them, and their neck is bereft of his teeth. Smooth. Unblemished. 

To claim is to bond. To bond—

Well. 

His earliest recollection of a relationship is his parents’. His mum, tied and trapped to a man she wanted no part of, but stuck. Unbondings, divorce, were rare during that time. Unheard of. Even now. 

And under his old man's influence, he's always seen claiming as ownership. As possession. A lingering remnant he’s told is wrong, but can't shake. Can't change. It glues in the fibrils of his mind. A rotten, pulsing scab that no amount of sanctioned reconditioning can ever seem to get rid of, to scrape out of his skull. 

(one he knows would be there no matter what because his sole purpose is exsanguination; bloodletting— 

in his warped desire to protect the things he cares about, he ends up smothering them in the end. a child holding a firefly too tight in its chubby fist.)

But Johnny knows better. Good Catholic boy. Knows to keep a muzzle on himself when he sucks desperate kisses into the small omegas' sweet neck, breaking apart the blood vessels of their scent glands, soaking himself in their musk—potent pheromones of a needy omega in heat. Aching for a bite. To be held down and conquered. 

It's wrong, they say. This ugly mass sits inside his chest like a foreign body. Scandalised eyes drilling into the side of his head like he's a monster for thinking this way. 

And he is. 

(always has been)

But he knows better. Knows to keep those uglier, rotten parts of himself hidden away from prying eyes. Got good at it, too. Enough that they let him into the brothels time and time again. 

Still—

He can remember the closest he'd come during a rut to biting a shrill omega who screamed in his ear until his head rang, ached. Nearly did it, too. Teeth razoring over their jugular, pinching delicate skin. 

Clarity came like a gunshot when he tasted blood. Chiselled a hole through his delirium, broke up the haze, and snapped his jaws up tight, locking them as he finished with a muffled growl, tongue swirling over his teeth for another taste. Another drop. 

His ruts have always been messy. Bloody. Got him banned from several centres, brothels, where they offered up betas drenched in the artificial musk of an omega in estrus. Ones resilient enough to withstand the harsh coupling of an unhinged Alpha in need. 

He had a problem, they said, with treating their workers like chew toys. Biting to break skin, drilling in deep enough to scratch his teeth on their bones. 

Deranged, they hissed. Fuckin’ mental, mate. Stay the hell away!

Some are just prone to violence. Need to be half-sedated before they can mate without ripping their partner to pieces. Ghost has always been that sort. Aggressive. Hard to control. Rabid. 

His appetite is bigger than the expanse of their skin. He sometimes thinks he could eat the whole world and still starve. 

He hums, thumb sliding to cover the omega's neck. Trapped in his hand, his clutch. They're cute when they're ruined like this. Begging. Whimpering. 

His cock gives a half-hearted twitch. His work phone chimes, signaling the end of his leisure. 

shame, he thinks, squeezing his hand until the metal dents, the screen cracks, splinters. Pops. Hairline fractures split across their distorted, tear-stained face. He closes his fist over it until it breaks. Goes black. 

really. such a goddamn shame. 

Some things are just not meant to be—

—but they have a habit of falling into his maw, anyway.

It's a simple set up. 

Man—

beast, monster, thing

—with his empty, growling stomach and teeth made to bite, tear, goes out hunting for a meal. In that search, he finds you. 

You, Persephone personified: damned (eternal), standing beneath a spruce tree. Limned, halo gold, in the waning sunset's bashful kisses, you lean on the rough bark, idling your timelessness away. 

Postcard beauty. Pinup demure. Alluring. 

(creature of sin

and oh, do you reek:

The air is saturated in the tantalising scent of honeybush, roasted hazelnuts, and clove. Saccharine—almost nauseatingly so—but with a hint of spice, black cardamom, cinnamon. He drags in lungful after lungful until it tangles deep within his chest, nearly suffocating. Smothered in this earthy sweetness. Drowning. Drowning—

the perfect dessert)

It unleashes something in him. Chips at the lock buried deep in his mind, cudgelling through the hinges until they pop. Rusted, slick with oxidising oil. It peels back from the gate, unveiling this gaping, ravenous chasm, polluted and gangrenous, rotten down to the marrow. Noisome. Noxious. This frothing pit sloshes, geyser-like, and greedily foams at the maw, the mouth, aching for a taste. Something to quench this gnawing hunger. 

This bottomless abyss hadn't seen light since he was eighteen, and—

The hollow space where his rib once sat throbs, aches. phantom bone. He holds his chest with his hand, feeling for the gap, the chasm, stolen from him. Ripped away, taken.

By you. you—

—so,

it's only fair that he steals something back. 

(quid pro quo, or something, right?)

You greet him with a small nod when he wanders close, eyeing him warily under the black rim of your ballcap. Tense. Small hands curl into fists, partially hidden under the rain-soaked windbreaker nearly two sizes too big. It smells like you—honeyed milk, molasses; lilac, lavender and warm bread—and he fights the urge to pull his mask down, to shove his misshapen nose into your neck, and breathe it in right from the source. Drinking, feasting, on it. 

This want is visceral. It coils in his guts, bubbling in his veins. His musk—heavier than yours, pungent—beads along his scent glands, mushrooming into the air like a fine mist. 

Your nostrils flare. He takes a step closer, eyes skewering into you, taking in everything you have to offer. The rucksack left at the bottom of the tree, stained with dirt and leaves. A sprig of Saskatoon berries peeks out from the lopsided flap. And—

Ah. 

Foraging is off-limits in this area unless granted a permit. One you don't seem to have based on the skittish way you keep avoiding his eye.

His scent thickens, tainted sour with faux suspicion, and you wince, ducking your chin, tucking it close to your chest, hiding from his spearing gaze. 

All it does is give him a voyeuristic view of your fragile nape, your vulnerable neck. 

His teeth ache. Jaw clenched up tight. 

It looks so bare. So naked. 

(Be a shame to keep it that way forever, wouldn't it?)

“Hi,” you stammer, seemingly oblivious to the musk you leak into the air, into his lungs. Forcing some sense of staid indifference into your tone. Like being here, out in the middle of the forest is normal. “Did you need something?” 

On the verge of a heat like this, wobbling where you stand—

He wants to chew you up. Spit out the pieces on the pavement. Drink from the gash he'll rip into your jugular,

quench this unbearable thirst. 

He doesn't know how you made it out here as long as you have, smelling like you do, and the thought burrows through the haze spuming, clotting, on the fringes of his muted periphery. Anger is an icy deluge of white water raging through his veins. 

Under the mask, the remnants of his scarred lip curls. His hands close into tight fists. Balled up. He feels the tension crackling along his muscles, his body. Coiled spring. Ready to leap—

But:

There's clarity. Focus. Where he was meant to become a mindless monster, driven by instinct, he instead feels the pieces of himself snap back into place. Missing puzzle pieces. It shifts. Settles. Locks. 

He wants you. Will have you. It's non-negotiable. Ironclad. You just—

Belong to him, don't you? Pretty little thief. And wandering around like this, reeking like you do, you must want him, too. Need him. 

(protect, protect, protect—)

Honed in, drilling into your face to catch every expression that flickers past, he sees the moment you take a sniff, when realisation blooms in the inkpools of your gaze that you are less than an arm's length away from a starving predator. Supple, soft. All plush flesh seated seamlessly against brittle bone. Fragile. 

“hi,” he echoes, and it sounds hollow. Garbled. Like he's speaking underwater. Thinks, for a moment, that he's buried again. Drowning under the crushing weight of dirt. His own tumulus. Suffocating. Choking on dirt—

But you twitch. Feral little thing. It breaks him out of this nightmarish obtundation; shaking the cobwebs loose. He tracks it like a viper. Attention narrowing, shrinking, into nothing but the way you move. Smell. You anchor him in his place, keeping him stable amid this horrific onslaught of emotions that rip talons down his chest. 

“I–” you breathe in again, lashes fluttering. Strains of silk batting over your etiolated cheeks. You breathe him in. Deep. He sees your chest grow, expanding with his air. His musk. Has to bite down on a growl before it forms, the lash of a whip in his throat. Aching. 

There's something spellbinding about you—caked in a layer of grime, briny sweat clogging your natural scent; wild and untamed. Uncharted wilderness, untouched by man and their dirty hands. A corrie after a rain shower. Snow melt. He wants to bathe in it. Carry it with him wherever he goes. 

As if scenting this thickening desire, your eyes widen. You take a step back, swallowing audibly when he follows. Marionette on strings. Your shadow. 

“I should go—”

And he knows he can't let you do that. 

Won't. 

He hums, a fickle, brittle thing in the far reaches of his chest. 

“Go?” he flicks his hand toward your bag, head cocking to the side in a mockery of contemplation. “Don' think you got a permit for that, do you?”

“A permit…”

He has you. Your eyes lower, falling to the badge on his chest. Game Warden. You stare at it, eyes widening. Swallowing thick. 

With you distracted, he leans in. Curves his body over you mockingly, like he's bending down to whisper a secret in your ear. Cupping a pretty little firefly in the palm of his hand. 

When his shadow falls over you—dark and damning—you flinch back, fists trembling under the hem of your jacket. Brows furrowed, knotted tight. Your lower lip wobbles. You try to hide that, too, by sinking your teeth into your flesh until it floods white under the strain. 

He wants to pry it apart with his own teeth. Take the bruised flesh into his mouth until you start to drool, whining from the abuse he inflicts on you in a mockery of a kiss. 

(wants to tear through it, taste your blood on his tongue—)

“An’ I don't reckon tha's a good idea, pet.” 

You shiver when he places his hand on the truck above your head. Boxing you in completely, nothing to spare—not even an inch. 

He hums at that, cock giving a vicious jerk inside his trousers at the almost impossible dearth between your sizes, at the way he swallows you up in an instant. Has to take a deep breath to steady himself, to keep the inkblack tendrils swirling, gathering, at the edges of his periphery from bleeding in. This starving murder of crows. 

When he speaks again, it's low. Deep. Kittenish licks from the tongue of a tiger; abrasive, rough. Mocking baritone of a shifting canyon, a mountainside, before it buries anyone alive under rubble. 

“Not reekin’ the way you do. Might ‘ave every alpha in a one square mile radius frothin’ at jaws for a taste. Ain't safe out there.”

And it's definitely not safe with him. 

He watches, transfixed, the moment this clicks. When your eyes waver between the hard bulk of his body—spread out, laxed; plumage unfurled—and the noisy clatter of the town just within reach. It's this thicket that cups your scent, that protectively curls over you, and keeps the Alpha's prowling about the market square from sniffing you out. A beaten trail. Hidden desire path no one was supposed to wander down. 

Except the bear problem in the woods, infringing on town, and him, the gun bolstered on his thigh still hot from his warning shots into the bush.

(lost little Lamb—

wandered too far from the herd.)

You take another step, cautious. Small. It brings you flush against the tree. Your polyester jacket whines at the friction. He can see indecision play out on your face. Oscillating between the badge on his uniform shirt, the gun on his massive thigh, and the clamour of muted noise from the town just within reach. Alphas prowling. Their acrid scent is unmistakable even through the dense foliage spreading around you.

It's an impasse. Neither option affords you much choice in the long run—it's either stay here with him, with the heady scent of want, of an Alpha on the incipient cusp of a voracious rut; or risk yourself in town. There are police officers patrolling. Ones who can sedate an alpha who gets too out of hand, but still. 

The mimesis of desire pooling around you might send you into heat sickness. That, or you'll get in even more trouble for fleeing a pursuing officer. Resisting arrest. Jail time, certainly. 

The pendulum wavers. Your knotted fists wobble. 

Then—

Your eyes leave his chest, the gun, trailing over his shoulder. Widening in surprise at whatever is there in the distance. 

He ought to commend you, really. The rouse is quite believable—

But: 

“Not bad,” he murmurs, leaning down further. If you won't jump, he'll push you—

He sees his mistake as soon as it happens. 

As he bends, you drop. Waiting until his attention seemingly drifts elsewhere, to when he's distracted and off balance. Lured in by your faux attempt at distraction. 

And it might have worked on a lesser being, but all Ghost has ever been is raw, unadulterated instinct.

He lashes out as soon as you move again, palm curling over your wrist in an instant. Snapping jowls of a defensive snake. Shackled. Locked. He tugs—

But the movement costs momentum. You use this against him, going limp. Forcing him to take the brunt of your weight on the spread of his fingers. Tricky little minx. His mouth breaks out in a feral smirk, tugging harshly on scars, on burns. Stretching skin. Distorting it under the mask, ugly and vicious. 

Your scent plumes up around him, sickly sweet. His jaw aches, gums itch. He wants to bite, snap his jowls around the scruff of your neck, chew on your skin until you sob out his name—

In seconds, you twist. Swinging your body back in a beautiful pivot, clumsy as it is. You're all animal now. Reckless in your pursuit to escape. Throwing out pheromones at him—purposeful, he realises a moment too late. 

And it works. Distracts him long enough for his grip to slacken. Your arm slips out of his grasp, and you're on your feet in an instant, darting through the thicket in a maddened dash to escape the heavy, starving alpha and his burgeoning hunger. 

Escape, or—

Weighed down by the afterbirth of his sudden rut, a prickle of his old self buoys, brims, from beneath the mess. He shouldn't chase you. Should leave you alone, call someone—Price, perhaps. Bark out between a clenched jaw that he needs a tranquiliser and chains. Will have to break Simon's teeth to stop him from biting into you like a man starved, famished. Tie him to the back of his pickup truck, drag him to the edges of the forest. Knock him out. Knock his teeth in. 

Anything.

Because they said this might happen. The doctors’ who poked and prodded. Therapists—all mandatory, non-negotiable, when he signed his name on the dotted line—murmured about unravelling. His self-control snapping like a twig. Sense of self retreating. All hiding away, protecting itself from the torrent of chemicals flooding his hindbrain. A heavy, unrelenting accumulation of a decades-long bout of rut celibacy all washing over him, all at once. 

Said to lock himself up if it happens. Chains. Shackles. Nuts and bolts. Heavy tranquiliser. Immediate sedation. 

And in Price’s office, in that messy filing cabinet he keeps, is a folder. A playthrough of everything that's supposed to happen if this happens. 

(“but that won't happen, will it, Simon?” 

and he'd rolled one massive shoulder in an easy, effortless shrug. 

“no.”)

The failsafe is that he's meant to call in if it does. Precious seconds of clarity, cognisance, enough time for him to dial the number, to bark out the order. To be hunted down, rounded up, and thrown in a pit. 

where he belongs. 

He should. Should. It's the book. Rules. Coloured in red ink. No option to negotiate. 

But as you slip through the dense foliage, angelic gold against the phthalo green bosky, the knot in his shoulders abates. Uncoils. In this sense of ease that permeates within him, he finds that he's shockingly cognisant. In full control. The plexiglass shatters, and in the ruins he finds purpose. 

You smell good. Too good. Any alpha will scent you in an instant, will claim you. Take you. It makes something in his broken, moulted head shift. Crack. He can't let that happen. Has to protect you the only way he knows how—

To wrap his paws around your throat before any other Alpha has the chance to sink their teeth into you. To claim you. 

All his. Little Persephone tucked tight against his ribs where you belong. 

And if the way the air clots with your cloying smell—heady, potent; the unmistakable ripeness of an omega in heat—then you must want him to chase you. Want him to follow. 

(escape, or—

a game.)

He tracks your movements, honed in on the rustle of the underbrush. When you're out of sight, Ghost flexes his hand, curling his gloved fingers over the leather on his palm. There's an itch in the back of his head. Festering. Rotting. He wants to reach in, rake his claws down the mass, shred it to pieces, but it affixes one simple truth inside of him: 

you need him. want him. why else would you run in the opposite direction of help if you didn't want him to give chase?

And so, he does.

You're a crafty little thing. To throw him off of your trail, you leave scent markers on the tree trunks you pass, doubling back to run in the opposite direction. 

It might have worked on someone else, but Ghost has spent half of his life buried in this thicket, and knows better than to follow smells in the forest. A vacuum, a great chasm; it plays tricks with sounds. Distorts scents wafting through the canopy, mingling with the natural loam, the disturbed humus underfoot. 

Instead, he hums at your cleverness—his smart little omega—and shifts his gaze to the forest floor, roaming over the footprints sinking into the soft soil, the peat and moss. A breadcrumb trail leading right to you. Broken twigs, crushed bushes. 

Ghost follows it. Places each foot down carefully, nose angled upward to catch the fresh wave of your heat leaking through the tangled furze. It beckons him forward. Calls out to him. 

(come, come, come—)

This lost little lamb needs a shepherd. 

He intends to give you just that. 

(—find me)

The path you cut through the forest is a twisting sawtooth meant to throw him off your trail. Traps laid out in tall tussocks, weaved through sweetgrass all drenched in your scent. Pieces of your clothing torn at the hem, the shorn fabric pressed on pine needles and tangles furze. 

These breadcrumb trails—a neat nest of wile, it seems—are cunning, he'll give you that. 

Even with his eyes to the forest floor, he finds himself throwing a wayward glance in the opposite direction, snagged in your webbed subterfuge. Somewhere between the visitors centre and the first trail meandering into the thick taiga, you seemed to have realised that your boots leave indents in the mor. He follows the deep impressions in the podsol until he finds them shoved under a Saskatoon berry bush. Another dead end. 

Clever little thing, aren't you?

But even when strays from the path, he's right on your tail. Confident in his scenting abilities. His prowess has always been tracking down wily little rabbits when they try to flee, picking them off in stasis from high above. The layout might have changed—his perch closer to the ground instead of a deer stand—but his eyes are just as keen. Your winding trail is ingrained in his mind. A long loop through the eastern trailhead, and he knows, instantly, that you'll try to throw him off at the placard where the west trail branches off through the dense conifers, and the east meanders downslope to the hidden stream where hunters like to trawl. 

He feels a pinch of pride simmering low in his guts. Anyone else would have lost you three pitfalls back. He's enraptured by this pursuit. Smitten by you. Your clumsy little escape. Your sweet little ploys. He wants to chew into you, let his teeth leave jagged scars, false starts, on your bones. Permanent. Starlight—dusting meteor showers in milk white. 

Ghost’s belly gives a tremendous growl. He huffs at the ache clawing against tissue, ravenous and unbearably empty. 

He'll have you soon. All to himself. 

The thought makes fresh blooms of pleasure spume from the rot in his chest, prickling through the layers of muskeg and peat, etiolated little sprout. Germinating in wet gangrene. Feasting on necrotised flesh. 

He swipes his hand over a honeybush, catches the lingering scent clinging to the leaves. You must have fallen here. Tangled yourself in the furze, overcome by your heat. 

Poor thing. Tired already. 

He holds his hand up to the fading gossamer of twilight trickling through the dense canopy, clenching the lingering remnants of your scent in his fist. It's fresh. He wants to tuck it in his pocket, carry it around with him. 

He finds you in a small clearing, bent down with your palm resting on the trunk of a tree. Nails digging into the rotting bark, desperately struggling to catch your breath. Your heat is a wildfire. It scorches the earth. Burns his nose. 

You're no longer on the cusp of it anymore, but in the throes. 

His rut, he finds, isn't too far behind. 

Perfect synergy. Meant to be. You call to him, and the gaping, gnarled chasm inside of him answers with a growl—

Before you can blink, he moves.

He falls over you, felled timber. The earth shakes under his indomitable weight. Palms slam into the rough bark of the gnarled spruce you've taken respite against, boxing you in. 

You fall against it with a gasp, hands pushing against his broad chest as he backs you into the tree. Little fists pounding on his sternum, mouth pinched, twisted in a snarl. There are pieces of bush caught on your clothes, tangled in your hair. Leaves. Sticks. A spot of dirt on your nose. 

It's mesmerising. 

The ballcap falls first. Morning sunlight over a boscage in bloom. Pitfalls, ravines. The canyons of your eyes quiver; this new topography shifting, sliding. Tectonic beauty in muted midnight. 

He wants to reach in, feel these granite walls of yours with his bare hands. Clamber up the colluvium, the scree, until he reaches these rugged peaks gleaming at him, angry and feral, in fading twilight. 

Time is endless. There's no limit to how long he has to know you—drink from your rivers, feast on your valleys; find all the hidden nooks, the crannies, shaded under the towering monoliths of your body. Chart your couloir. Defile your flume. Bathe in your estuary. Tangle himself inside your dells. Tame your chaparral. 

Fastidiously. Expertly. Until no part of you is unknown to him. 

Your chest heaves, mouth open as he crowds you further. Pressing into you. Over you. 

He wedges his broad thigh between your legs, presses it tight against your pussy. Your thrashing stills when he touches you, when he angles his knee up, up—

There. Through the layers of clothing that separates his bare skin from your cunt, he feels the heat bleeding out against him. The wetness from your sodden panties. Undeniable proof of how much you want him. Need him. 

 “All wet f’me?”

“Fuck you—!” You spit, angry and feral, but you arch into his touch, pushing your pussy onto his thigh. Aching for friction. 

It makes him hum. A low growl caught in the back of his throat. 

“Reckon I'll be the one fuckin’ you, pet.” 

And he will be. This is fact. 

You shudder, brows notching together in a vicious glare. “I don't want you.” 

It's hissed between the sliver of your clenched teeth. Full of heavy conviction. Forging truth out of lies—

And that's all it is. A lie. A fallacy. 

(and even if it wasn't, unlikely considering the way you arch into him, needy despite the disdain dripping down your brow—he really just can't find it in himself to give a fuck; he'll make you want him—)

Ghost leans down, muzzle pressed against your neck. He inhales deep, audible. Chest expanding, lungs swelling. Full of the aroma bleeding out of your pores. Proof of just how much you do, in fact, want him. Betrayed by your own body. 

He huffs out, paints the air with his derision. “Is that so?” 

Ghost drags his hand down the solid line of the tree, dropping it to rest against the jut of your hip. He ducks his head, watching. Staring at the way his palm nearly swallows you up when he rests it over your waist. Spanning nearly the entirety of it—hip to hip. 

It bludgeons into him. Knocks the air clean from his lungs. 

He's always had a hunger for things he can cup in his palm. The barrel of his rifle. The hilt of a knife. Your wrist in his hand. The curve of your hip. 

His gloved fingers slip under the hem of your shirt. Pads ghosting over your skin. Warmth bleeds through the leather, an unmistakable tell of your heat reaching its first equinox. It'll be all fire, all smoke, from this point onward. Desperate. Feral. 

Groaning deep, wanting, he pushes into you further. Chest rumbling. Eager. 

It takes a great deal of effort to pull his hand away. To bring it up to his mouth, fingers hooking over the edge. 

The fight in you abates—marginally—and you watch him with a keen look of suspicion dancing in the moulted dirt spread over your nullah. Wary. Anticipatory. 

He fights the urge to laugh—deep and delirious—and instead works on prying his mask down over his crooked nose, his mangled mouth. Letting the hem snap under his chin, kept there. Bearing himself to you for the first time. Naked. Exposed. 

Your eyes widen, trailing down the jagged lines, mauled ridges of scar tissue. Drinking in everything he offers in the fading embers of a summer twilight. 

He grins—a rivened, ugly thing—when you let out a heavy, quick breath, and your hips drop, rutting your sopping cunt over the wide heft of his thigh. Gyrating subconsciously. Quietly pleased by the way he looks—as maimed, as beastly as he is. He lets you. Lifts his knee, pressing his cap tight into the bark, and bumping the top of his flexing quadriceps at the apex of your groin, right where he knows your clit sits. 

The breath you take is pulled in through clenched teeth, biting on the rind of a moan. Its shapeless silhouette ducks, hides from sight. 

He lets you have it. Lets you run. 

But it's not without recompense. 

With his upper lip curled, he sinks his teeth into the leather tip of the glove above his middle finger. Letting you see them for yourself—these thrawn teeth he'll bury into your neck. Claiming you entirely as his. 

Your pupils start to eclipse your irises. Lagoons of liquid black blotting over rugged peaks. 

Ghost slowly tips his head back, dragging the glove with him. Eyes setting along his lashline, he drinks in the sight of you swallowing thickly, your gaze darting between his teeth, his mouth, and now—his bared neck. Voracious, greedy, in the way you feast on him. Drilling into the stretch of skin slowly unveiling itself to you. 

The muscles in his neck flex against rimy skin. Adam's apple bobbing with his slow swallow. 

You follow it all, but your gaze seems to fix itself on the brawny arch of his neck, falling—and then glueing— to the thick vein protruding from his flesh, pulsing with the steady rhythm of his heart, and the small, swollen bump of his scent gland beneath it. 

Hunger, he finds, paints such a pretty picture on your face. The greedy, anfractuous glances a bludgeon into him; so heavily affixed with desire that the shake of your head when he pulls the glove free, letting it dangle from between his teeth, and drops his hand back to your skin, is minute. Meaningless. 

You want him as much as he wants you. 

The clause in this, the axiom, is ironclad. Irrefutable. Bound in brass when you shiver at the touch—feverish skin on feverish skin—and arch into his palm for more. Panting through clenched teeth, each hiss striking against that fraying coil leashing his threadbare control. To distract himself from the unspooling knot, the ache in his gums, he charts the first inch of skin he passes with his thumb, committing the sloping plains of your body to memory. The jut of your hip, the stutter in your breath when he runs the rough pad of his forefinger over the slope of your underbelly. 

It's easy to marvel at the sheer enormity of his size compared to yours. Simon hitches his thigh firmly into your clothed cunt, nearly lifting you up off the ground. You teeter on the tips of your toes, falling forward into his chest to stabilise yourself. Little fists curling into the fabric of his jacket, knuckles tight against his the last rungs of his ribcage. Your head lifts, a glare chiselling into the soft fields of your face. 

You hiss something at him—feral and scathing. He drops the glove, leans down to meet you in the middle, and eats your feeble protests from your lips in a bruising kiss. Scorching. His teeth knock into yours. Tongue lashes out to catch the vitriol dripping from your fangs. You make a noise in the back of your throat, and he swallows that, too. Devours it all. 

It's a vicious kiss. All teeth, tongue. Bullying. He lets you sink your teeth into his tongue, huffing into the seam of your lips when you coo, victoriously, at the first drop of blood spilled. 

In retaliation, he sets his hands over your ribs, and lifts you up off the ground. Making you gasp. Mewl. Your legs kick out as the back of your head catches on loose bark, raining it down over your shoulders in flakes. He doesn't stop kissing you throughout. Eyes half-mast, still open, as he drinks in the sight of yours rolling back in your head when his thigh, one the width of both of yours—fuckin’ hell—catches the perfect angle on your clit. 

Loose-limbed, caught, you have no choice but to wrap your ankles around his waist, curl your arms around his broad shoulders. Clinging to him desperately to remain grounded, held aloft. 

His hand falls down, cups the back of your thigh, fingers spanning the entire curve of your cheek. Held tight in his palm. He bucks into you—quick, hard. Letting you feel the unmistakable bulge of his stiffening cock, leaking spend already in the tight confines of his trousers. This groin, inner thighs, already sticky with the mess dribbling out. 

You fall apart at this. Head tipping back, crown thudding against the truck of the tree. He has your lower lip between his teeth, and it pulls, skin stretching until he huffs out another breath, mocking, and unhinges his jaw, letting you go. 

Mewling, whining low in the back of your throat, you clumsily rut your cunt into the hard press of his cock. Eyes hazy, liquid, with your blooming heat. 

Its approach is quicker than he thought it would be, and he hums, tongue rolling over his teeth to catch the lingering taste of you. Under his hand, your skin burns. Singing with the urgency of your desperation. He answers it with a grunt, falling forward to smother you under his weight. 

There's a flash of clarity in your eyes when they crack open. Brief. Fleeting. He feels your sluggish attempt to push him away, to free your hands from between your chests, and he has to dip his head to stifle another groan. It feels good to have you under him like this. Covered entirely in his bulk, his shadow. 

His hand pulls away from your flesh, snaking between your bodies to catch your wrists in the palm of his hand. Only one swallows them up, and the easy way he subdued you—effortlessly—has him nearly coming undone in his trousers. Untouched. 

“Fuck, want it bad, don't you?” he snarls, hips bucking into you. Chasing pleasure. He pulls your hands out, lifting to arm to trap yours in the shackle his fingers make high above your head, and—

It's devious, this. 

Somewhere in the loosening agency of his self, his autonomy, he knows this is becoming dangerous. Something that ought to be stopped before he rips into you with a rabidness that promises nothing at all will remain intact when he's finished. When he's had his fill. He needs to clear his mind. To get away from the way you fit against him so perfectly. Tiny in his wicked embrace. 

Like you were made to fit between his ribs. His teeth. 

He gnashes them together, trying to stem the ache in his gums. 

He wants to fuck you. Needs to—

But as ripe as you smell to him now—tender melon, warmed honeycomb—he knows that you're not yet ready to take him. 

Ghost steps back, letting your feet drop to the soil below. With the sparse inch of space between your bodies, he breathes in the lingering scent of your breath—sharp, burning; imbued with a heady thrum of adrenaline electrifying your nerves—and finds the musk a near-perfect pantomime of ozone. The arid tang in the air just before the air. A lightning strike. It rolls over his tongue, tastes of wet pennies in the back of his throat. Heavy with anticipation. 

Something he feels very keenly as well. An eagerness he hasn't met in decades. Absolutely famished for it, for this familiarity of want. Potent desire. 

He mourns the loss of the way your ass fits in the cradle of his hand when he pulls it free, fingers trailing over the feverish skin of your hips, your belly, as he goes. He doesn't stop until he comes to rest on the button of your trousers, eyes flickering down to catch your gaze. Purposeful, now. Intent clear. 

Nothing is stopping him from taking. Your protests are paper-thin, dissolving the moment it touches the dense blanket of humidity in the air, but he wants your submission. Wants to see your resolve break, crushed by your own hand. 

The gossamer wings of a butterfly, crumpled up in your palm, and offered to him for the taking. How sweet—

You seem to realise his intentions when his thumb dips below the hem of your pants. Just a tease. Brushing against the soft skin he finds there with the curve of his nail. 

Your glare is instant. The sharp tug of a drawstring pinching tight between your brow. Mesmerising as it closes over your lax expression. A fierce snap. He wants to pry it apart. Wedge himself between the seam. Create a gap wide enough for him to fit. 

“I won't beg,” you grind out, acidulous. Firm. 

He huffs, quietly amused by the fight still sparking in you despite the evidence of your arousal, your want of him, evident in the stain at the seam of your pants. His other hand rests on the trunk of the tree above your head, boxing you in when he leans closer. Taunting. “That so?” 

You don't respond, but your glare sharpens, mouth tugging downward in a harsh frown. Displeasure sparks in the air. Cutting into him like fine glass shards. He lets it graze his naked flesh, the warning ghosting over him in needlepoint pinpricks. Entirely too captivated by you to notice the sting. 

Your ire is a heady, tangible thing dripping down your brow, slashing over your cheeks. Anger, however misguided it might be, paints a pretty picture over your face. Darkens the inlets nestled in the corner of your eyes. Drenches the ravines, gorges in a startling chiaroscuro. Limns the alpines, the valleys, in a halo of golden starlight. 

He wants to drink it down. Hold your fury in the palm of his hand—

Crush it between his fingers. 

Because despite the dissent, your desire cuts through, and hews the air in a thick tapestry of want. 

mutinous, teeth bared, but your eyes burn, rage against the prison walls, and scream, please—

His fingers dig into the bark above your head, catching flecks of sap between his nails. Knuckles turning white under the flaxen hair dusting over them, strained. The grip is unintentional. Unconscious. He keeps thinking about you beneath him. The heat of your thighs around his waist was a mere tease. A morsel when he wants a meal—

The pressure in his knuckles grounds him. Cuts through the phosphenes blanketing the edges of his vision, smothering the clarity, the cognisance, that lingers in the centre. Threadbare as it is. 

There’s an ache in his jaw. 

(the need to bite—)

He pulls it off, and shoves his hand tight between your thighs, cupping your cunt in his palm. Feeling the heat bleed through the gusset of your pants. The touch is harsh. Firm. He bullies his fingers into your flesh, letting out a mocking chuff when he feels the fabric dampen.  

“Somethin’s’ tellin’ me otherwise.” 

Your hand lashes out, grabbing the thick of his wrist. Holding firm. It should be a warning, but the obvious gap between your middle finger and thumb makes him groan instead. 

“You're wrong.”

“Am I?” 

You twist away from him when he leans down, chin ducking to your shoulder. Hiding. Denying him your mouth, your taste. This meagre measure of control you grapple for is easy to give. He presses his lips to the shell of your ear instead, letting you run. Flee. For now. 

His voice is thick when he continues, husky. He pitches it low, lets it swirl into the seashell coil of your inner ear, earning him a shiver in response. Your nails biting into the skin of his wrist. Holding tight. 

“‘m a lot of things, pet—” rucked gravel, sodden with his derision, spills into your ear. Your shudder makes him want to bite, to maim. “Wrong ain't usually one of ‘em. But you'll learn that soon enough.” 

Your breath hitches. Expression morphing, shifting. Changing into something adorably beleaguered as he encircles you like a tiger, eyes drilling through the tussock, aimed directly at your head. With his body boxing you in, coiling over you like a hideous shadow, he has you trapped, caught. Little lamb writhing between the paw of a tiger.  

You seem to be keenly aware of this. Your eyes are shrewd, searching, as you probe around for any escape route, but he's a bulwark around you. Inescapable. 

Finding none, you suck in another breath, and slowly lift your chin, glancing up at him through your lashes. The look on your face is—

Enigmatic. 

Something changes in the morphology of your mien. Fracturing. Cracking. 

“Yeah?” You breathe, soft and goading. Your hips buck into his hand, rutting shallowly against the tops of his fingers. Unconscious. Like you just couldn't help it. 

And he supposes you can't. 

A fine sheen of sweat has been building since he took after you into the forest. Gathering around your temple, your hairline. The harsh reminder of your festering heat, once dammed by your raw disdain for him—hatred, he'd say, and doesn't the thought just make him want to laugh; you're all bark, no bite, and he knows he'll have fun breaking you in, breaking you apart—but flooded over by the primal drive to mate. 

And he's perfect for you, isn't he? 

Hideous bastard that he is. It's a sharp juxtaposition to your prettiness, your earthly beauty. 

Under the spinel sky, you break. The hand on his wrist tightens, your hips flexing into his palm. Seeking friction. Needing pressure. Needing him. And pissed off about it. Delicious. 

“Prove it,” you snap, irritation blanching the corners of your eyes arsenic white. Edging into a frenetic desperation hot enough to burn the threads of your resolve. But there's a gleam of reluctance pushing through the syrupy murk folding over you, heavy molasses. You want to give in, but there's something about him, his appetite, that makes you hold back. That makes you visibly sick at the sight of him—

Unfortunately for you, he has no such compunction to shelf his barbarity. To leash his desire, to muzzle the overwhelming urge to crush you under the weight of his accumulated need. It's decades of listless apathy. Divorced from anything resembling human emotion at the root. Carved out, scraped off bone. He was left to stagnate. A misfortunate creature submerged in a bog, dead but unable to rot. 

The deluge of his savage, bestial hunger rages in his veins. It's corrosive, vile, and—

unrestrained. 

Ravenously esurient. He wants to sink his teeth into you and never let go—

but first: 

he needs to eat. 

His meal is a feast, it turns out. Simon gorges himself until he's full. Promises that he'll stop as soon as he's satiated. 

(but he's lying to himself, and to you, because he never is—

never will be.)

Tears pebble along your lash line as he feasts on your sopping cunt, licking at your fluttering rim, slurping up your slick. Your clit is pressed tight against the crooked arch of his nose, sliding and catching on the jagged ridge each time he moves his jaw to dig deeper inside of you as if he's trying to taste the seal of your womb. You pant, whine. The noise muffled half-heartedly behind your palm. Teeth sunk into your skin, lodged against your bone. 

Angry rivulets rain down your cheeks, dangling like fine beads, gems, on your jaw. He wants to taste them next, as soon as he fills his gullet with the earthy tang you release. 

Your tears remind of that pretty omega Johnny sent to him—a brat, he'd said; the best, Lt—and it churns in his stomach, dredging up something awful. Terrible. He wants to make you weep harder. Wants you sobbing, begging. His own little brat to take over the knee whenever he wants—

But that's where the uncanny resemblance ends. 

You're not a brat. No. You're a headache. The kind that will have him written up, sat like a bad dog in his best suit, as they level him with charges, and orders, and the like. The sort of thing that even the old man wouldn't be able to string him out of—not that he would. Price is three days away from a much-deserved retirement to the mountains and sitting on his hands to keep from snatching up the pretty conservation officer who moons at him whenever he passes by. 

He won't be much help to get Ghost out of trouble. That leaves only Gaz and Soap. And while he's sure they can swing it, he doesn't really want to be under their ahh, guess ye/ya owe us one, Lt/Riley. 

So—

It stands to reason then that he should have you tamed before dawn. Shackled down, locked up tight. Only right considering he's the best in town to keep bears at bay. Do you really want to deal with a mama grizzly and her defenceless cubs? Or a starving male clumsily pawing his way out of hibernation? 

Probably not. 

So. So. 

He pulls back, rests his chin on your thigh. 

“Gonna be good for me, pet?” He asks, lowering his tone considerably until it catches on the gravel below. 

He's not surprised when you hiss through a cloud of tears. “Go fuck yourself—”

Ghost tips his head, suckles your clit into his mouth. Tongue laving over your flesh. Blunt teeth pressing flat against the swollen bead, a tease. You tense, gasping. Hand pushing his head back, back—

“Don't, don't—” you're mewling, nails raking over his scalp. Hips bucking, pulling back. Struggling to get away. The bite marks along your thighs weep fresh blood in your struggle, filling his nose with the heavy scent of iron. 

They serve as a harsh reminder of what he can do with these jagged teeth of his. 

He chuckles, mouth still closed around your clit. The vibrations have you choking, spine curving into a beautiful arch. 

Fingers digging into your hips, keeping you still. Trapping you. He's not quite done with your cunt, yet. And all this wriggling is something he can do without. With his hand pressed to your hips, he notches the other down your thigh. Tracing his index finger over your soft skin, dragging it close to your outer lips. Catching the tacky slick drying on your flesh with the tip. 

Tiny fists rain down over his shoulders. Urging him forward, eager for more. Selfish, spoiled little thing. 

What a monster he's made—

“Patience, pet,” he coos, mocking and mean. Likes the way you react to the patronisation in his tone. All taut shoulders, shaking fists. Bearing your teeth at the slight, the stinging barb. Shaking in an amalgamation of embarrassment and shame. 

You seem to like it when he's a little awful to you. A little mocking. Cruel. 

“Shut up—!” You hiss, lips curling as you glare down at him. “I'm not your pet—”

He ignores you. Bends down to sniff at your cunt instead, and finds his answer is the white hot desire he can taste in the back of his throat when he breathes you in. 

His fingers pry apart your folds, and he greedily drinks in the sight of your drenched hole, clenching down on nothing. Poor you. His heart thunders in his chest, rages. He wants to sink inside of you—impossibly deep—until the beginning of him and the end of you ceases to exist. Rolled into a single being, atoms merged. Bodies fused. He wants to take everything from you. All of it. Eat it out of the cup of his hand like pomegranate seeds, let the skin get stuck in his teeth. 

He wants to devour you whole.

(to eat—)

Settles, instead, for pawing at your cunt. 

Pressing the width of it against your slit, feeling the heat of your core on the palm of his hand. Branding himself with the intensity of your desire. Another scar among many. An uncountable number of jagged asteroids cratering along his flesh, making a home out of a ghost. A shell. 

Reinforced, too, by the absurdity of how terribly contrasted his flesh is to yours. Monstrous. His scarred hand rests over your pussy, encompassing it entirely with extra digits to spare. Folding each finger on top of the other to wedge between the basin of your thighs. And as his gaze comes to rest on the way he swallows you up, he is struck by the garishness of his hand—hideous scar tissue, burns—falling over your pretty cunt. 

Sinful. Frankensteinian beast palming the sweet pussy of a pretty, human woman, and—

Fuck. 

His cock twitches, spits out a thick glob of pre-cum.

Ghost has never wanted to ruin something as badly as he wants to ruin your cunt. You. Mess you up so badly that everyone will know you belong to him, and him alone. To brand you with the tattoo of his teeth on your mons; force a claiming bite on the pillowy skin above your clit. His ownership bracketed between your thighs, at the very apex of your hip bones. Buried into tissue right under the bulge of your womb. A fecund valley for him to lay waste; for you to grow beauty from the rot, the ash. 

Cinder scraps over his nerves. Fells his resolve in a brutal sweep. 

He comes undone at the seams, unravels. 

Simon curls his fingers into a loose fist, passing the rugged peaks of his bone over your soft flesh. Gathering slick on thick, scarred knuckles. He holds it there, folds pried apart by his hand, content to luxuriate in the softness of your flesh, the scorching heat.

Possessively, he unhitches his thumb from the coil of his fist, and swipes it over your clit. More slick leaks out as you keen. 

“Sweet omega like you should ‘ave been claimed by now,” he rumbles evenly despite the sour twist in his guts at the thought. “Might not ‘ave ended up ‘ere, would you ‘ave? Beggin’ the first alpha you see to fuck this sweet little cunt.”

“Begging?” 

“Practically gaggin’ for it, weren't you?” And even though the words are his own, they sit in his gut like a stone. An angry knot tangled in his intestines, snaking its way up his gullet. Bitter. It's quelled by the sight of your bare neck. Ripe for his teeth. And his alone.

But even if you had a pretty ring made by another alpha, Simon knows that wouldn't have stopped him from taking you, anyway. Biting over the claim. Breaking it between his teeth. Precious, loving union shattered by his crooked greed. He'd have relished in it, too. Basked in the way you sobbed as he tore your alpha into pieces. An obstacle turned into a pretty effigy at his feet. Wicker pyre burning to keep him warm.

(he'd have caught dinner for you, too; hunted caribou, moose, and roasted it over the open flame. Fucked you under the blume of orange. Let the fire lick across your skin as he sunk in deep—)

He rocks back on his haunches. Mood labile, quicksilver, as his rut grows. Festers. 

You deny it, breathless, as he slips the mountainous peak of his bent middle finger into your hole, stretching your rim around the scarred cartilage. You pulse around him like the fluttering wings of a hummingbird. Rapid, quick. Wanting. It draws him in. Makes him want to spit on your pretty pussy, and then break you apart on his cock—

“Such a needy cunt, eh? Starving for a good knot, ain't it?”

You hiss out your protests, but clench tight around his knuckle. He chuckles, and it's liquid. Wet rot. Lungs polluted, spitting nocuous, black smoke into the air. 

“I'm not—”

“You are.” 

He pulls back, pursing his mouth, and spreads your lips apart, opening you up wide and vulnerable to his prying eyes. Saliva puddles on his tongue. He gives you a moment to clue into what he's about to do, your fingers tightening, nails digging into his scalp as you do on a shallow gasp of disgust. Then, brutish, he leans forward, and spits. Lets the glob hit your clit, and he has to hold you still when you jerk, cringing away from him, snarling out your displeasure.

“You're disgusting—”

The protests are weak. Your knees tremble, giving away the growing slickness gathering on the insides of your thigh. 

He hums, watches as it oozes down between your folds, over your fluttering hole, before it falls to the ground between your legs. He lets his hand fall back over your cunt, middle finger gathering his spit. Rubbing it around your pebbled clit. It's done detachedly, perfunctory. A means to an end with hardly much concern for your pleasure. Not yet, anyway. 

You've given him nothing in return yet. 

He intends to change that soon. 

As you grapple with the harsh reality he presents to you—one of ownership, humiliation, and pleasure on his whim—he drags his finger down, sliding it between your soft lips until he reaches your hole once more. Petting around the drenched entrance slowly, softly, humming under his breath about how wet you are. 

Your hips drop, greedily chasing after his finger. You won't ask—not yet—but he likes the way you rut against him: all hateful, spiteful. Like you can't decide on what you want more—to bash his head in, or keep it locked tight between your thighs. Sweet thing. 

“Need me, don't you?” He sinks his finger in. Nearly whites out at the pressure, the tightness, he feels. Soft, wet. Squeezing him in a vice as you yowl, whimpering into the stretch like it matters. Like his thick, scarred finger is the most you'd ever taken before. Sweet girl. So naïve. 

He drinks in the sight of your flesh forcibly being parted around his knuckle, matting the wisps of blond on his skin as it leaks down to his wrist, until that, too, is pushed up into you. His whole finger now engulfed in the wet heat of your body as you squirm around the stretch, pulsing around him like a heartbeat. 

He groans when he tastes your discomfort on the back of his tongue. 

“Don't worry, lovie. M’gonna take good care’a you.”

You watch him with slitted eyes as he pushes you down to the forest floor, glaring over your shoulder as he adjusts you the way he wants. Maneuvers you around like a little toy. Forearms braced against the trampled grass, knees sinking into soft moss. Thighs spread. Cunt bare, drenched. Ready to be claimed. Taken. 

He drops to his knees, shuffling close from behind you. His hand drops to your lower back, pressing your torso down further into the ground below. His cock aches between his thighs. Heavy, fat. He reaches down with his other hand to where it droops, smearing pre-cum over his inner thigh. He catches it in his fist, flushed the colours of a fresh bruise—angry red, purple—and strokes along the sensitive skin of his shaft, dragging it up and over his engorged head. Pre-cum weeps from the tip, drools long strains down to the forest floor. Puddles thick between your knees. 

A prelude, perhaps, for what's to come. When he has you tied like a bow around his knot, milking all the pent-up spend from his heavy, full balls. 

It's been decades since he had this—

(“shame.”

he concurs.)

Simon pulls his cock up, taps it against your pebbled clit. Drinks in the sight of you keening, cunt gushing more slick out of your empty hole, dribbling down your thighs. Mingling with the mess he already started making. 

It shocks him how good it feels just to tap his cockhead on your pretty pussy. To drag it through your slit, teasing it against your fluttering hole that drools copious slick over him. 

He wants to make a mess of you. Fuck your pussy until you cum, until all you can feel is the split of him inside of you. Filling you. Ruining you. 

Until all you can think about is the thick drag of him against your stuffed walls. Empty without him plugging you up. Desperate for his cock, his knot—hungry little slut just for him. All for him.

He presses the head of his cock against your rim, letting it catch. Holding it there. A tease. Just a little taste. 

Likes when you whimper, head hanging between your shoulders, fingers curling into the moss below. You make such a pretty picture like this—the expanse of your back bare for his eyes to roam, locking on the dimples of your hips, the curve of your waist. The plump shape of your ass inviting him in—eager for a bite. Your flesh looks bare, lonely, without his mark. The contrast of his own inked palm—fingers webbed with faded lettering, some slogan he picked up in his youth. Hands etched in black. Lines bleeding, bulky. The unmistakable tremble of an incipient artist’s first brush of a needle on real skin. Jagged, garring. Ugly. He lets his hand rest against the small of your back, groaning at the way it looks. 

Sinful.

You're made for soft silk and a fluffy bed. Head resting on a plush cushion instead of your arms, forehead braced over the uncomfortable squeal of your polyester windbreaker that he didn't even have the courtesy to let you take off. No. Just trousers. Panties. Pushed haphazardly down your legs, left in a pile by the spruce tree so he could throw your ankle over his broad shoulder, feasting on your cunt. 

There's a spot of dirt on your asscheek. The curve of it is scraped from the bark, red and raw. 

The glare you aim at him from over your shoulder is venomous. There's a smear of moss on your cheek. 

You're made for epsom salt baths. Being tended to by a besotted alpha who treats you like fine china, only to be taken out on special occasions. Brushed, always, in a fine layer of dust from disuse. Sweet, tender lovemaking under the waning summer sky. Your alpha apologising for ruining you like this, for making you take the brunt of his rut. Poor thing. Gentle kisses, and hands clasped together. 

He can see it so vividly in his eye. So viscerally that it almost feels like a crime when he glances down at his cock, the weeping, engorged head almost comically too big for you. The thick of him could easily swallow your cunt up if he flattened his length against you. Covering you wholly by his girth. 

It's a thought that makes his hand tighten, and nearly chokes him on a moan. 

Even his thighs bracketing the backs of yours is hideous to look at. Bigger, broader—there's a considerable gap on both sides of his legs that he thinks nearly his whole fist can fit there, notched against the outside of your thigh, covering the expanse of his own. Garish. 

He can't wait to lay you down on your belly, lock his thigh tight on either side of your own and rut into you like that. Crushing you under his weight. Swallowing you whole. Until anyone misfortunate enough to wander by thinks he's fucking the cold ground. 

His thumb strokes along your fevered skin, collecting the sheen of sweat building up on the pad. Rubbing it in. He feels it too. This unrelenting swelter. A cage, pushing down from all sides. Inescapable. 

The only way to quench it is on you. In you. 

“Ready for me, pretty girl?” The words are mangled in his throat, thick with want. 

Your shoulders tremble. In worry, he thinks. Scents the air like a viper, letting your emotions curdle in the back of his throat. “Just get on with it—”

He meets you in the middle of that taunt, teeth against your throat. 

Ghost pushes inside with a groan, eyes rolling back at the way you swallow him up. Stretching around the considerable girth, fluttering around him. Pulsing like a heartbeat. 

It's heaven. 

Nirvana nests between your thighs, bracketed by rings of blood. Red. Absolution imbued in tender flesh, parting perfectly around his cock in a loving embrace. 

You haven't confirmed it for him, but the tightness of your cunt around his fingers, the heady scent of discomfort burning the back of his throat when he buried them inside of you, make him mutedly aware that you're inexperienced. A fact he pockets for later because if he thinks about being the first alpha, the first man, to ever claim you, take you, then he might lose his mind, he might fall down that yawning chasm that reeks of damnation, of brimstone and ash, and never recover—

So, he doesn't. Won't. 

Can't. 

His pace is slow as he feeds you the fat length of his cock, eyes drilling into the way you swallow him up. Rim stretching taut, flesh paling under the strain of taking him. With one hand anchored against your hip, holding you tight, and the other curled over your shoulder, fingertips resting on your collarbones, he slowly, slowly, sinks inside of you, bottoming out with a deep groan. 

The outstroke drags with it an iron scent in the air. He huffs, nostrils flaring. Greedy for more. There's discomfort leaking from your pores. His girth is more than you can conceivably take, even with the preternatural help from your heat, leaking slick down your inner thighs in thick rivulets. 

He holds himself there, breathing—heavy, tremulous—through his nose. His hands shake. The pressure, the pleasure, is indescribable. It coils in his guts, spumes liquid bliss in his veins. The way you feel pulsing sweetly around him is—

Equilibrium. 

Every misfiring synapse inside himself is slowed. Imbued with a potent sense of ataraxia. His mind comes to a standstill. Thoughts looping over themselves, tangling into the gossamer threads of control floating in stasis. Unmoored. You unravel him. 

It's further proof that you are his missing part. His ruts in the past have been calamitous. Snarls wrenched from the trenches of his chest; a gluttonous feast—a sacrifice to Hēdonē. Violent, vicious. 

But this—

It's drinking ichor from the vein of Anteros.

There's a crack in the back of his head. The sound of everything, all of it—

Falling into place. 

His hands tighten. Tighten some more. He holds you, sure and firm, keeping you nestled in the anchor of his embrace, unable to run, to flee. You're his. Settled. The caveat is ironclad, bound in permanence. 

And Simon moans. Deep, and low. The noise jutters out of his chest, and seeps into the evening air. Fine mist, crystallising in front of him. Phosphenes of ice cemented his decision, gluing to his cheeks. The nape of his neck. 

His ears burn. 

“Fuckin' hell, sweet thing,” it's a guttural growl in the hollow of his throat. “Where ‘ave you been all my goddamn life?”

It's a nauseating confession, one scraped out from the vacancy between his ribs. It peppers the air in a soft, saccharine kiss. Makes you shiver beneath him, gasping in lungfuls of loam, dirt in your throat. 

He grunts. Stills. He doesn't want that for you. Ever. Would rip off his own limbs before he ever let you feel the crushing weight of dirt congealing inside of your lungs. 

The way he arches over you is damning. Nauseating. He curls his arm around your shoulder, your chest, traps a heaving breast in the palm of his hand, holds tight. The other falls from your hip, closes over your mons. Greedily feeling your slick, hot sex pulsing wildly around him when he passes over your clit, toying with your stretched, swollen rim. It's perfection, this. 

He pulls you up, up, leaning back on his haunches until you're balanced on your knees, nearly sat on his lap. Taking him deeper than before. He drops his head back with another moan when he feels your slick gather, dripping down to coat his balls. 

Everything about you is just—

Perfection. Absolution. 

Your hands fly up, curling over his forearm, mewling when he pinches your nipples between his middle and ring finger. 

“C’mon,” he rasps, leaning forward to press his face into your nape. You smell sweet. “Play with ‘em for me, pet.” 

Nails bite into his skin. You whimper. Squirming around on his lap. But you do as you're told. Slowly, slowly, reaching up. Touching yourself the way you like. Fingers ghosting over your flesh, brushing across your nipples. Pulling, petting, the way you like. He hooks his chin over your shoulder, watches. Devours. Commits each movement to memory. Every sound, every breath. Everything. 

He keeps a slow, languid pace like this. Content to just feel you pulsing around him, listening to the slick, wet squelch of him filling you up. Over and over again. A lazy rut. 

It's unexpected, he knows. You've been bracing yourself this whole time, fingers digging into the podsol, spine tightening up. Waiting for the savagery to befall you. 

When it doesn't come, he feels your quiet acquiescence come in a soft breath. In the way you slowly drop down to meet the deep rut of his hips. Taking your pleasure, pulling him in deeper. There's an edge to your voice, one still dipped in threads of discomfort, a waning pain that rings out, shrill, in the satin spill of moonlight over the indigo forest. 

It's good like this. Tender. Not something he'd have ever imagined for himself, and the reality of it is dizzying. 

Reedy, he groans. Nuzzles his misshapen nose into your scent gland. His gums pulse, ache—

But he ignores it. Swallows it down. 

He's not sure what compels him to do so. Spellbound, maybe, by this unnatural softness that spools silken threads between you. Sutured in tenderness—so unbefitting of the man he is. The monster—

His hips stutter. Jerk. 

“Simon—!”

You whine into it, arching back. Sweat gathers, drips down your spine, smears into his chest, belly. Matts the thatch of hair running in sparse, patchy clusters down the thickness of his midsection. A bountiful spring fattened him up. Made him soft and pillowy over his abdomen. Something you can't seem to get enough of—pressing the flat of your back against him, leaning into it. Groaning when his arm shifts, boxing you in. Crushing you to him. 

Wily little kitten, purring so sweetly in his lap. 

He draws lazy circles over your clit, grunting with each clench of your cunt. You're soft in his arms. Malleable. He slides his hand up from beneath your breasts, catches your jaw in his palm. Fingers spanning from cheekbone to temple and, oh—

Doesn't that just make him preen. 

He drags your chin to the side, catching your mouth in a sickening kiss. All tongue, teeth. He wants to taste, to devour, every part of you. Bones and all. 

It's a fight, though. You tense in his grasp, lidded eyes snapping open, wide and around. Cheeks bulging between his fingers when you twist, trying to pull away.��

“Don't—I don't want to—” he bites the protests from lips. Messy, sloppy. He flicks his tongue over yours, wrapping it around you like a satiated snake burrowing in after a heavy meal. “Don't—f–fuck—”

It earns him a nip. Teeth digging into his bottom lip. Drawing blood. 

He huffs into the seam of your mouth. Only fair, he supposes, and then pulls you down—hard, fast—onto his cock. The air is punched out of your lungs, flooded into his esophagus. 

“Be a good girl for me,” he warns, bucking into you. It's harder this time, deeper. Tempo increasing. Growing. He feels himself thicken. Knot fattening up. Each piston of his hips seems to knock something inside of his head loose. Common sense, maybe—

The fraying knot of his self-control winding tight. Pulling taut. 

He huffs again, feeling himself slip. Lost in the sensation dripping down his spine, the unified pleasure blooming in the pit of his stomach. 

The air plumes with the thickening tang of your arousal—all sweet, spice. You can take it, now, he knows, and tries not to growl when you hiccup his name wetly into the air. 

The muscles in his thighs bunch tight. Corded and powerful. He arches up, up, forcing his cock deep inside your cunt, splitting you apart. Rutting desperately, edging into something animalistic. 

It runs a knife along the thin skin of his hindbrain. Come out, come out, come play—

He moves you again, pulling his hand away from your jaw and pushing you back down the forest floor. He stays glued to your back. Tucks his arm under your chin, and smothers you under his bulk, groaning when your thighs give out, sliding on the sweat-slicked moss below.

“Simon, ah—” your voice tapers off into a breathless cry when he pulls his hand free from beneath you, wrapping it around to join the other. Holding on, clinging to you. Keeping you locked tight against him, under him. You can't move at all like this—

The swell of his knot bumps against your stretched rim. He presses the brunt of his weight into each thrust now, spurned on by the needy way you yowl into his forearm, drooling all over his skin. Begging for it. 

“Please, please, please—”

Your body is jostled forward with each harsh buck of his hips as he gives you everything he has, feeding his cock into your sopping cunt over and over again. Eager now to fill you up, to flood you with his cum. Make you swell with it. Overstuffed. 

Perfect little omega, you rut back into him with each thrust, taking his thick cock to the root. Mewling sweetly when his knot begins to catch. Too much, he thinks. It might just wreck you for good—

pomegranate seeds splitting over your teeth, blood red juice leaking from the tear. spilling into your mouth. just a drop. just a drop, and Persephone is all his

—Perfect. 

He teeters on the edge of ferality and control. Spinning, spiralling. Loosefooted on the wobbling chossy. Coming undone in a magmatic end—wicked heat, ashes, brimstone; he catches fire, and smoulders you under his heat. Letting the flames lick across your skin until you whine his name, desperate and needy, in the back of your throat. The thrill a bludgeon against his skull, spilling pleasure, bliss, in the broken hole you wrought. 

You tighten like a vice around him—tight, tight—and he pistons into you, burrowing deep. Deeper still. Until you thrash around beneath him, soundlessly screaming his name into the dark forest. Begging for mercy, mercy, please—

He won't. Can't. 

He can't get enough of the way you feel wrapped around him like this. Silken, whitehot. Tight. Tight—

It squeezes the air from his lungs. Static in his head—

And then you let go. Pulsing, throbbing around him. Pulling him in deeper, blanketing his mind in white noise. In nothing but magmatic pleasure. 

“Fuck—!” He snarls, almost angry. Vicious. Chasing after his end in the aftermath of yours. Instincts are at war within him, banging against his skull. Demanding recompense. Paid it's pound of flesh. 

It's what he's promised. What it's owed. 

(and he always keeps his promises, doesn't he?)

Most describe their ruts as mindless, driven by instinct. No control. But Ghost has never felt more present, more alive, than when he sinks his teeth deep into your nape, nearly choking, drowning, on your blood.

For the first time in decades, he feels the crater inside himself, suffused with spare, broken parts, seal when you yield with a mangled yowl of his name, raw and fractured as it splits between your teeth. Pretty pussy swallowing up his knot when he bullies it in deep, locking you together.

pretty little lamb—

a perfect fit between his teeth.

His rut is a voracious thing. 

Ghost has you on your back for the second and third round, heels resting on his shoulders as he bucks into you. Makes you stare at him—don’t look away from me, pet—as he commandeers your body with an ease that seems to break apart all demurrals as they form, rendering you sweet, malleable, beneath him to do with as he pleases. 

And you are, aren't you?

So fuckin’ sweet. 

(“gonna give me a cavity,” he rasps, thick with pleasure, into your ear. he has you on your belly now. holds you down with his weight, crushes your chest against the soft moss below, thighs squeezed tight between his own. you can barely make a sound with his forearm digging into the dirt right above your crown, swallowing you whole under his bulk. 

(owns you like, he finds. no one would be able to see you beneath him if they wandered by. encompassed wholly by every iota he has to give—

he cums like that. nose buried in your crown, moaning low, scorched, in the back of his throat as you twitch beneath him, unable to move at all—)

It's early in the morning when he finally finishes, when his rut begins to slowly recede, and a fresh bloom of clarity yawns over his periphery. Moonrise peppers soft kisses over his aching shoulders as he glances at you curled up against his side, sleeping soundly. Exhausted by the hours and hours of mating, fucking. Taking him, his knot, drinking down everything he has to offer. 

The sight that greets him is gnarled fingers wrapping around his rotting heart, affection peeking out between the brackets of his ribs. His appetite for you is dizzying. Unquenchable. He wonders if he'll ever be able to look at you without wanting to crawl inside your body. To reshape your tender flesh around his bulk until it is indiscernible from himself. 

This want is agony. It's dread, desire. Greed. 

His shoulders bite back in protest when he reaches up to drag his dirt-crusted nails through the prickly hair on his scalp. As dawn slowly unfurls across the midnight blue aether, he knows he'll have to leave soon. Can already feel the creeping heat gnawing in the pit of his belly. His rut starting anew. The scant hours he has of mental clarity, moments meant to eat, to feed, and regain strength for the next marathon of fucking, are needed to feel out his next move. 

He glances at you again, and feels the same covetous tug in his chest as he did before, when he was thickly entrenched in the urge to mate. But as the burnt orange of the sun smears hazy fingerprints across the moulted sky, he sees you in a new, cleaner light. You're young. Much younger than he is. 

It's something he ought to worry about. To feel some shred of shame, of despondency over shackling you to himself—a defective alpha with more scars than morality—when you're in the burgeoning bloom of your freshly untethered youth. All jejune beauty outclasses nature itself. Snow melts on the alpines, trickling down to feed the valley below. Life itself—

But you are his. 

The ugly rings around your throat—mangled tissue swelling in the morning dawn, caked in a thick river of blood—all signify that you belong to him. And while it's a little extreme as far as claiming bites go—one would suffice, but he buried his teeth in you over and over again, biting down on both sides of your neck, your jugular, your nape; inner thighs, mons, wrists—it’s proof enough that you are meant for him. Made for him. 

His pretty omega. 

The rest doesn't matter. He ought to feel shame, but instead he luxuriates in it. Stares down at you with a needy sort of possession spuming in the putrid remains of his chest, mapping out the marks he put on you. And the ones he'll add to later, not stopping until covered in the perfect impression of his crooked teeth. Tattoos of his ownership all over your body. 

Mutual, of course. There's a scant patch of skin, restive and empty, above his heart, save for a fine, jagged line from a serrated dagger. He'll have you bite down on the flesh until your teeth meet inside his muscle. Scarring down to the bone. He'll go, then, to the man who inks him up whenever he has the whim to desecrate scar tissue, and have him etch midnight black against fine silver. Permanent, forever. Always. 

And anyone who kicks up a fuss—stupid as they might be—he’ll sort them out. Prove to them that you are meant to be his. 

(unshakeable:

his spend leaks out of you, drying, tacky and thick, on your thighs. under the sleepy citrine of the dawning sun, it's tinged pink, and looks just like pomegranate juice.)

Ghost rolls his shoulder, and reaches for his discarded trousers. He's covered in a thick layer of dirt, and reeks like soil. But the thought of being buried alive is miniscule compared to the want of being buried inside you again. The urge. Insatiable. He groans with it, cock throbbing already. 

He leaves you naked. No point in dressing when he plans on going home and sinking back inside of you before midday, anyway. An unneeded obstacle, really—

The clearing is close to his truck, and he sets a leisurely pace, yawning into the dawn, as he gathers you into his arms. Carrying you to it as you drool on his chest, brows pinched at the soft jostle of him trudging through the thicket until he reaches it. 

He's not in a rut when he stretches you out in the back seat, spreading your sticky thighs around his hips, sinking inside, bottoming out just as you come to, waking up with a gasp. 

The intense fucking from before lingers in the air. You're soft, molasses; arching into his chest, whimpering out the name he hissed into your nape only hours ago, folding into him with a somnolent submission. It won't last, of course—

You're a vicious little thing, and his back and chest twinge with the rivers you carved into his flesh when he didn't move the way you liked. Wolfish, aren't you? Spitfire hiding under the soft pelt of a slain lamb. He wants to devour you, bones and all. 

He takes his fill of your malleable concession, rutting into you with a sluggish ease. Mapping out the starlight sparking in the depths of your glossy eyes. Magnetic. It pulls him deeper. Unravels him at the seams. 

His hand spans the expanse of your jaw from ear to ear. He holds you like this, thumb buried in the tender embrace of your soft tongue, and begins to understand the reason behind Johnny's niche appetite when you toy with his flesh, coquettish and sweet, suckling him in—pretty seductress—and then mewl when he pushes in too deeply, bringing crystalline gems to corners of your eyes. 

Angelic innocence. The type that demands he prostrates himself at your altar, let his bones be picked clean when you so wish it. And he'll give it to you—body, blood, tissue; all of it. The entirety of him, however broken, shattered the fragments might be. 

He promises it all to you without a word, drilling holes in the gaps of your eyes, chasms wide enough for him to fit. When he cums, it's to a songbirds sonata. Your moans are a whisper, your pleasure swallowed down as it ghosts over his lips, clenching around him like a vice. Pretty bow. He doesn't hold back—groans, baritone; woodsmoke, into the gathering symphony, filling you to the brim. Thick, copious. He wants it to stick. To root. 

When the blood sputters back to his head, he gathers you in his arms once more. Keeps you seated on his lap—shush, pet; s’alright, jus’ close your eyes an’ I'll ‘ave us home in a bit—as he starts the old pickup, and puts it into drive. One hand on the wheel, knuckles blanching white in the glimmering sunrise; sparse forests of muted blond catching, limned in the coruscating light. The other is placed on the small of your back, holding your belly to his. 

Quietly, your body eases. Melts. You press your face into his chest, fingers curling into the fabric, and nuzzle into the heady scent of his sweat, his musk, still clinging to his shirt. Signing, soft and twee, in the cup of his embrace as you slip back to sleep. 

He drives home like this. Mind a quiet place for once. Silent in its contentment, it's comfort. There's an itinerary still left to do, but he pushes it back for now, gaze roaming the dense green of the forest bracketing the road. 

You'll like it, he knows. There's a fen on the outskirts of his territory, a little pond where wild rabbits have been known to make burrows. Deers, elk. Bears. They all come and go. You'll amuse yourself in the untamed wilderness of his abode, drawing delineations of your own as you carve out places in his home just for you. 

And as he makes the turn to his hidden driveway, this buried sanctuary, he can't help but glance down at your crown, and think—

Persephone, finally home.

He finds your identification in your rucksack, nestled underneath the contraband you smuggled from the park—mushrooms, berries, bark, feathers—and sears your name to memory. Every part of you will be unravelled in the coming days, pulled from the depths of your being until it's all ingrained in his head. A gaping chasm chiselled into bone just for you. All for you. 

Your address is a rental. He'll have to call them later today to cut your lease. Your job, too. They'll need to be notified on both your off time for his rut (and your burgeoning heat), and to update your contact information. 

But that's later. Now, he just wants to get home. Sink down into his bed with you beneath him, and fuck you until sundown all over again. Stain the house with the scent of you. With the potent tang of your coupling. 

It's yours too, after all. Should smell just like you. 

And when you wake up later to him fucking his tongue into your drenched hole, fingers toying with your pebbled clit, Johnny will be busy packing the rest of your things into the pack of his pickup truck. The majority of it is already stacked on the porch, waiting for you to rearrange it all in your new house. Lease cut. His name added to your contacts as spouse, husband. Address updated. Marriage certificate laying on the table, only one line unsigned. Waiting for you. 

Maybe it's too fast. You'll certainly protest like it is, bearing your teeth and hissing at him from across the room about too much, too fast, slow down, you don't even know his last name—

(“Riley,” he grouses, arms folded over his broad chest. Eyes burning in the cresting twilight. “S’your last name now as well, pet.”) 

Fast—sure. He might think so too for a brief moment when he as you purring against his chest, submissive and docile after he fucked the fight right out of you, bullied you into agreeing to everything—it's for the best, after all. No one could ever protect you like he can. 

Made for each other. Reinforced when he presses your fingers to the soft spot where his last rib once hung—

(“stole it,” he murmurs into the seam of your lips. “right from under my nose. only fair that i get to steal somethin’ right back, ain't it?”

the look on your face is rapturous when you press your hand to your side, eyes widening when you feel the extra rung—)

He's had decades of waiting. Waiting. And now that he's found you—

He's never letting go. 

You're it, he knows. Feels the certainty in that statement simmering in his hindbrain, in his essence. He'll have you—now, forever. Non-negotiable. Where you go, he will follow. 

(after all, there's something about three-headed dogs and their bones—)

[chxrryhansen]

2. Rafe x innocent (and kinda naive/ airhead?) reader where reader and rafe are dating (still very new) and reader keeps reminding him she wants to wait longer (when they are making out/feeling each other up) and he keeps trying to go further, so he tells/manipulates her that it’s not normal for girls to not want to go further and something could be wrong, so he “checks” her (rubbing her clit and fingering her) and asking things like “does that feel good?” “Doesn’t that make you want more?” “Something probably is wrong if you want me to stop”, just so he can convince her to say she wants more (so then he fucks her).   

-💎

ur asks have me going FERAL. your brain is so beautiful and it must be treasured and protected at all costs. i actually hate the way i wrote this but i was too far in to change it by the time i realised i didn’t like it😒😒 nevertheless, this is a long one guys so buckle up!! (1.5k words!!!😱😱)

₊♡₊˚ 🎀・₊✧

you and rafe had only been dating for a few weeks, relationships were pretty much a whole new thing for you since your upbringing hadn’t really allowed it. you hadn’t had sex before, ever. and rafe wasn’t going to be patient for much longer, the furthest you two had went is making out, when it got heated you pulled back.. pushing him away and saying you didn’t feel well.

rafe was getting desperate, you didn’t even realise what you did to him. he was painfully hard most of the time since you were oblivious to how sexual you were being. such as bending over right infront of his face, showing him your cutesy pink panties or accidentally grinding against his cock when you squeezed past him in the kitchen. rafes frustration was at its peak and he couldn’t take it any longer.

rafe stretched his arm around your waist as you both lay in bed watching tv, biting his lip in thought before reaching out to grip your jaw gently, turning you to face him. he leant forward, catching your lips in a deep kiss, it didn’t take long knowing rafe before it got heated, as his tongue began battling your own for dominance you pulled away, taking deep breaths as you stared up at him with big innocent eyes.

“what’s wrong, pretty girl?” he muttered, lifting his thumb to wipe his drool from your mouth.

“n-nothing rafe, i just.. i don’t… i can’t go any further with you, i-i don’t think i’m ready for that.” rafe’s patience was out of the window by now, all rational thoughts evaporating as his cock grew harder, straining against his pants, desperate to be inside your sweet cunt.

“baby…” he sighed. “this isn’t normal.”

you stared at him with a confused expression, your eyebrows knitted. “i-i don’t understand, did i do something?”

he was quick to shut that thought down “no, no, no, my sweet girl, it’s more about what you didn’t do. see, other girls your age…they love being good for their daddy’s, and i just don’t think you are being good f’ me.” tears began to whell up in your eyes, his negative feedback not sitting right in your stomach. “daddy?” you questioned gently, your bottom lip wobbling.

“yeah, i’m your daddy, baby. and i think it’s about time you start calling me that. it’s true, no? i take care of you, i feed you, pay for your clothes, hell, i even take you to the bathroom. i may aswell be your daddy, so that’s what your gonna’ call me from now on, you got that?” he speaks softly, not wanting to discourage you or push you further away but needing to be firm enough so you understand. he’s testing the waters. seeing how easy it is to control your sweet mind in ways only a man like him could.

“i mean.. yeah, that-that makes sense i guess.”

a sly smile appears on his face, his thumb wiping a salty tear from your cheek “good girl.” he lifts your skirt with one hand, pushing into your panties and rubbing your clit, you gasp in surprise at the new sensation. “daddy! w-what are you doing?” you ask in shock.

rafe sighs “daddy needs to give you a check up baby, just to make sure nothin’s wrong. all i need to do is rub that sweet button of yours and fuck my fingers into your pretty pussy, mkay?” your cunt involuntarily clenches around nothing. “mkay, daddy.” you moan. rafes fingers stray from your clit to your entrance, his cock growing impeccably harder from the feel of your wetness, your pussy leaking around his hand.

“d-daddy, feels s’ good.” you whimper as he pushes his fingers into your hole, your walls clenching instinctively around his thick digits. “yeah? you like that? you like it when daddy fingers your sweet pussy?” he groan into your ear, sending shivers down your spine.

he picks up his pace, fingering you roughly until the knot in your stomach begins to tighten, you grab at his wrist, pushing him away, which doesn’t really do much since your strength is no match for his own. “daddy! stop, i-i think i’m gonna’ pee.” you whine, embarrassment flooding through your veins. your cheeks flushed from the humiliation.

he lets out a small laugh, his famous smirk still painted across his face “no baby, your not gonna’ pee.. your gonna’ cum. your gonna’ cum with my fingers deep inside your cunt. ask me. ask daddy for permission.” he growls, a flip switching inside his brain. “p-please daddy, make me cum, please can i cum? please please please.” you beg, tears streaming down your face as you try desperately to hold back.

“cum.”

he growls, watching as your legs begin to shake, your pussy sucking his fingers further into your cunt. you cry out as your body spasms, a thick creamy fluid leaking out of you and into rafes palm. “that’s it, let it all out. dirty fuckin’ girl. creaming all over your daddy’s fingers.”

your breathing begins to slow as you come down from your orgasm although rafe keeps his fingers deep inside your pussy, catching you in a deep kiss. he takes your hand in his own and leads it down towards his cock, making you instantly recoil. rafe lets out a mixed groan of annoyance and sigh of disappointment under his breath. you look towards the bed, feeling guilty as ever. he turns you to face him again, his pretty blues simmering in darkness. “listen. pretty baby, i was trying to be nice earlier but… i think there is something wrong with you. all the other girls your age wanna’ fuck daddy, so why don’t you? i’ve been so patient with you sweets but, the clock’s tickin’.”

rafes fingers begin to fuck into you once again at a rapid pace, your whimpers and cries filling the room as he fucks you with his fingers. “see? doesn’t that feel good? doesn’t that make you want more?” you nod your head, dazed with pleasure. not even fully understanding his questions. “good girl.” he mutters before taking his cock out of his pants, before you even realise whats happening, rafe had removed his fingers and crawled on top of you, pushing the mushroom tip of his swollen fat cock against your entrance.

your eyes burst open in shock at the feeling “wait, wait, wait, da-DADDY! Oh fuck!” you practically screamed as rafe bottomed out in your pussy with a single thrust. essentially, popping your cherry. his hand is quick to cover your mouth as he glares down at you from above. his sanity is long gone by now, the crazed look on his face scaring you into submission.

“shut the fuck up. i-i’m done playing games now. your gonna’ shut your pretty little mouth and-and daddy’s gonna’ fuck your cunt until he cums deep inside you, okay?” you didn’t respond seeming as his hand was covering your mouth.

he lifted his palm from your mouth before quickly striking you across the face, you cried out as your skin began to fluster due to the impact of his hit. he swiftly gripped your jaw making you look him in the eyes once more “you-you fuckin’ answer me when i’m talkin’ to you. you nod your fuckin’ head when daddy asks you a question.” this time you were quick to nod your head, tears streaming down your cheeks as you sobbed a “y-yes daddy.”

if anything they just seemed to turn rafe on even more. “good… good girl.” he groaned before pummelling his cock further into your cunt, he began thrusting at a rapid pace, fucking you so hard the headboard began to bash against the wall. your screams of pleasure probably being heard for miles. “ohhhh shit, you see that, you fuckin’ slut?” he pointed your face towards where your cunt and his cock connected, a pool of pink cream surrounding the base of his cock, a mixture of blood and cum. you were too far gone to talk at this point, moans and whimpers spilling out of your lips as you simply nodded your head, your eyes rolling back.

“fuck i can’t believe you tried to hide this shit from me, tried to hide how much of a greedy fuckin’ cock slut you are. it’s okay though baby, daddy loves when you turn into a desperate little whore. gonna’ have you writhing on this fat cock every day of the week from now on.”

[shrimpybbq]

rafe cameron getting his high school gf pregnant

rafe who knocks up his high school gf at the end of their senior year

he was high at the time and forgot to use a condom (he’s always been gunning to fuck her raw, he just doesn’t think about the consequences)

his pretty girlfriend is so angry and upset and yet she tells him that she’s keeping the baby

her parents want to send her away but somehow ward convinces them that the cameron’s will take care of her - she’s family now

something stirs inside of rafe when he sees her growing larger, her belly peeking out of her tank tops, he starts to feel even more possessive of her

his father drags him to her ultrasound and something shifts in him when he’s told it’s a boy. he finally sees an opportunity to be the man of the household and be great like his dad

rafe is probably high when she goes into labour, missing it completely. he only knows she’s in the hospital after his sister sarah calls him angrily, his coked up ass showing up at the door after his little son was born

rafe who, despite it all, loves his son so much. he feels so protective over him

he’s determined to be nothing like ward and tries to dote on the little boy, not realising he can’t buy his affection just yet

the little family sit out on the porch all the time soaking up the sun, their son resting on rafe’s bare chest

rafe is 100% always shirtless with his kid resting on his chest - he remembers seeing something about skin-to-skin once and won’t let it go

rafe and his little son walking around figure 8 with topper and kelce, visiting the country club and drinking, just with a baby

his lifestyle doesn’t change, he just does it all with a baby

rafe is a big believer in the trad housewife and will keep his gf at Tannyhill to look after his kid while he does whatever he wants

sarah loves her nephew to bits and her and wheezie are constantly coddling him while his mother rests

at the start of season one, ward talks to rafe about how he thought having a kid would make rafe responsible, but it didn’t

rafe’s high school gf is probably quite sad most of the time, always left with her son and alone, no friends other than sarah, not that rafe notices

rafe’s whole psyche is still rooted in proving himself to his father, but now he also wants to prove that he can be a better father than his own, and he’s always trying so hard to make ward see that (no matter the cost)

part 2>>> here

[okwonyo]

日语─── BEST PART ❜

RIPIRDENRE ੭୧ 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗀𝗎𝖾𝗌 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝖺𝖻𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗂𝗋 𝗅𝗂𝖿𝖾.

husband!enhypen & wife!reader 8OO non-idol au fluff established relationship 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏｡ mention of kissing

지아 ⠀⦂⠀credit to my amazing girlfriend kimibae for the idea ><

✶ rbs&feedbacks！ DAILY ˊᯅˋ archive

HEESEUNG it happens when he is talking to his colleagues— his phone rings inside of his pocket and, as if it was a national instinct, he takes it immediately. he doesn’t hesitate much before accepting the call when your name appears, leaving his colleagues hanging. “yes, baby?” he answers, in the softest tone anyone has witnessed him use before. it’s something he only does with you, picking up the phone no matter what. no matter where he is or what he is doing, if you call, you can be sure that he will always answer. his abrupt disappearance makes the people he was talking to a tad bit confused. they ask him who he was talking to as soon as he comes back. “who?” he smiles. “i was talking to my wife.”

JAY “what are you doing here, princess?” he smiles gently, resting his back on his chair’s backseat— getting comfortable as soon as he sees you. with a happy expression on your face, you walk toward your husband. you hold the lunchbox in your hands in a way that makes his heart swell, with such love and care that he might melt. “you forget your lunch at home, so i bought it to you.” he lets you settle yourself on his laps as you talk, “am i bothering you?” and he can’t tell you that he left his lunchbox on purpose, just to see you. “no, i love your visits.” so, it’s never really confirmed or said out loud (until a work party), but the way he looks at you, the shining ring on his finger says it all.

JAKE there isn’t a day where he stays quiet— he is always bringing your name up somehow. in every conversation he has, no matter how brief they can be, you will always get mentioned at some point of it. therefore, he is the first to find it a bit surprising when people find out that is married to you, several months after the wedding happened. people ask him with wide eyes about what he means by ‘my wife’ and he looks at them with the exact same expression. “well, i am married?” he answers, as if it was obvious. to his defense, he really thought it was. to his words, he adds the action of showing off his ring when he speak again, “i have a wife, i talk about her all the time. do you even listen to me?”

SUNGHOON doesn’t talk about you much. although, you are on his mind from the moment he wakes up to when he closes his eyes at night— he likes to protect his privacy at all costs. however, when he gets married, he assumes that everyone already knows about it. the ring on his finger accompanied by your picture on his desk makes it quite obvious (he even catches himself staring at either of them quite often). he discovers that it’s not the case at all when he tells his colleagues about how he has to leave early because he has a date. he’s bewildered when someone asks him with whom, he thinks they are joking at first, but it doesn’t seem like it. “with my wife?”

SUNOO your husband is handsome. you’d say that he is pretty, ethereal even. you know that already— how gorgeous he is and how magnetic is aura can be. so, it doesn’t surprise you when he tells you that his colleagues spend half of their time trying to match him up with someone and the other half hitting on him with barely any shame. he always denies their offer with a sweet laugh—until he comes back from his honeymoon. he looks refreshed, he can’t stop smiling whenever he thinks about you, which makes him ten times more attractive. this time, when someone tells him that one of his colleagues likes him, he denies again but with a brand new formula. “i am a married man, now.”

JUNGWON can’t leave home without the satisfaction of your lips touching his. even if it’s not necessarily his lips, he wants a kiss somewhere on him. your complaints about how it’ll ruin your lip combo or take off your lipstick doesn’t affect him at all. your husband gets a kiss from his wife no matter what. sometimes, he even leaves before you can tell him that your lipstick is on his mouth, because he shuts you up with another peck before running away. usually, he notices it and take it off but not today. this time, it’s when one of his colleagues asks him who he got those stains from that he remembers. “oh, it must have been from my wife.”

RIKI he doesn’t understand why people don’t believe whenever he brings you up. he always talks about you— while making sure the use the term ‘my wife’ ever since you got married. however, it doesn’t seem to get into his colleagues’ head, for some reason that he either doesn’t know or that doesn’t make any sense. “i can’t go out with you guys today,” he tells his colleagues, already looking for his car somewhere in the parking lot— his mind is only focused in on coming home to you. “my wife is waiting for me at home.” today he decides to directly show pictures of your wedding when they ask what he is talking about. he was right, ‘but you are so young!’ is a stupid argument.

taglist open + net— @sgz-net

[xxsabitoxx]

Roommates

Roommate Sanemi x AFAB Reader

Disclaimer: the characters and events of this story are fictional.

Warnings: Listening to someone else have sex, protected sex, male masturbation using a condom, tipsy making out, making out in a car, hand job, road head, making out in an elevator, dirty talk, hickeys, breast sucking, Sanemi has a tongue piercing, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, blow jobs, finger fucking, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, multiple sex positions, multiple creampies, praising, spanking, biting, spitting, spit as lube, cum as lube

A/N: My confession is that I came up with this idea mid-April and it's taken me this long to get it all out. Given the fact that this is easily my longest fic, I hope you can forgive me for such a long wait. Also I apologize but this isn’t proof-read because my brain simply cannot handle proof reading a fic this long so please forgive me for any small errors that may pop up :’)

Word Count: 26.3k

Your junior year of college you decided to switch from dorm life to off-campus apartments. You were sick of having a twin XL bed, an unbearable roommate, and no personal space. As luck would have it, you found the perfect two-bedroom apartment that was just out of your budget. Considering it was two bedrooms, it only made sense to put out a notice looking for a roommate. Especially when it would cut the cost of living since you’d split the rent with them. Naturally, it made the situation even better because you’d be saving money. After several responses and a couple meet ups, you ended up encountering a man double majoring in Math and Teaching. Rough and mean looking on the outside but honestly a sweetheart, Sanemi Shinazugawa was the perfect fit for a multitude of reasons. For one, it was nerve wracking living alone as a young woman. Having a tall, buff, scar covered man as your roommate really deterred most creeps. 

The other main reason, he was a great cook. Most mornings you’d wake up to coffee brewing and food on the counter for the both of you. He was pleasant, respectful, cleaned up after himself, and was pretty easy to hold a conversation with. He was also a bit of a softie, telling you about his mom and siblings and how he happened to be the oldest of seven. It made sense why he seemed to be such a patient man, and why he wanted to be a teacher. Most nights you’d share the living room to study, occasionally eat dinner together, or share a few drinks. Your friend groups remained separate, which meant the few times you weren’t clogged up with school work, you’d go partying at different places and somehow always end up stumbling home at the same time. You enjoyed those drunken giggles as you raced for the bathroom before heading off to bed. You also looked forward to the conversations the morning after, when you would tell him all about the things that happened, including gossip about people he didn’t even know. 

Moments like that really tugged at your heart. It was nearly impossible for you to not gain feelings for the man. He was handsome, intimidating but kind when you got to know him and, well, he really was a great cook. You haven’t acted on your feelings, honestly, you didn’t think you ever would. You didn’t want to risk the good thing you had going, finding a new roommate would be hell if everything went south. Plus you would have to pay rent you couldn’t afford until you could put someone else in his place. None of it was ideal so, you kept quiet, watching him from a short distance and fantasizing what it would be like if he threw you up on the counter and fucked you stupid. Yeah, you were way too deep now. It didn’t help that Sanemi was confident and comfortable in his body, often walking around the small place shirtless. He even liked to wear baggy gray sweats that would hang low on his hips while he cooked. Something you found extremely cliché but still hot. Even when he went out, he only had a few buttons done, his scarred chest exposed for everyone to see. 

Speaking of going out, tonight would have been a great night for it, but after midterms, you were too exhausted to celebrate. Your friends agreed to go out tomorrow night instead, so now you are spending your Friday night in bed with a new tv show on your laptop and a glass of white wine. Sanemi had told you he was going out, so don’t be alarmed if the door to the apartment opens in the middle of the night. You let your mind wander a few times, thinking about the girls that were likely throwing themselves at him. You weren’t used to feeling FOMO, but you were certainly feeling it now. Just the thought alone of some girl having the confidence to talk to him made your skin crawl. But at the same time, you figured it was utterly inevitable, he wasn’t yours to begin with so you had no right to feel envious. But at the same time, you couldn’t help but wish you had pulled yourself together and asked to tag along. But that didn’t feel right either… you felt like that was involving yourself in his life way too much. You were just roommates. 

“Just roommates…” you mumbled to yourself before taking a sip of your wine, enjoying the slightly bitter taste before swallowing. You had done everything imaginable while having the place to yourself. You took your shower with no time limit, did a face mask and skin routine, and even did your nails. You had also taken the time to enjoy yourself in ways you typically had to mute when he was home. Needless to say, despite your unwanted envious thoughts, you were rather relaxed. Now, however,  it was nearly three in the morning and Sanemi still wasn’t home. I should just go to bed. But there are only a couple sips left in the bottle… and only ten minutes left in this episode… you sighed, reaching over to your nightstand to pour the rest of the wine bottle’s contents into your cup. You settled back against your numerous pillows, refocusing your attention on your laptop screen. The scene was unfolding before you but your mind was wandering to other places. He’s been out for a long time… maybe I should text him…

You shook your head, you were in no position to be questioning his whereabouts. You were thankful your phone was sitting on your nightstand, giving you time to think and talk yourself out of any stupid texts you may have sent. You zeroed in again, this time actually holding on to the words the actors were speaking. You tilted back, downing the last bit of your glass before successfully finishing the bottle. You felt it now, your cheeks had been steadily warm over the course of the last few hours. You had taken forever to finish the bottle so your buzz never really went further, leaving you in a calm state until it began to wear off. Which is when you would pour another glass and try to forget about any unwanted thoughts. As the episode’s credits began to roll, you moved to grab the empty bottle on your nightstand and bring it out to the kitchen. As you moved to stand, you heard the familiar jingle of keys slotting into the front door. 

About time, I was getting worried. You would have to wait for Sanemi to get himself situated and in his bedroom before bringing the empty bottle out, finding it just a bit embarrassing that you spent your Friday night alone in bed. You set the glass on your nightstand beside the bottle, getting up to stretch your limbs and find something more comfortable to wear to bed. Your current outfit was too warm for the wine buzz you had going on. Finally, after a moment of struggle, the front door opened. He must have had a bit too much to drink. Or so you assumed, busying yourself in your dresser as you searched for a particular matching tank top and shorts. It wasn’t until you heard a lot of fumbling that you refocused your attention on whatever your drunk roommate was doing in the living room. What the fuck is going on? 

You questioned if you should go out there and see if he was alright, pausing your rummaging to really listen in. It wasn’t until the commotion grew closer to your door that you realized two very important things. The first thing was… he wasn’t alone. The second is… It was a girl. No fucking way… Your face felt as if someone had lit it on fire, the shock mixing with your buzz was enough to make you feel like you needed a cold shower. Clothes forgotten, you moved over to your door, pressing your ear against it to hear better. The fumbling you had heard seemed to be because she couldn’t keep his hands off of him. I can’t say I blame her… No real words were being spoken, rather it seemed like you were listening in on an intense make-out session paired with clothes being discarded in the hallway. Must be nice, what a lucky bitch.

You moved away from the door, guilt prickling the back of your mind as you tried to go back to your original task. I’ll change and put earbuds in… the wine bottle can wait till morning to be discarded. You jumped slightly as Sanemi’s room door flew open. They’re going to kill each other… or worse damage the damn apartment. My security deposit… you audibly whined at the thought, not feeling quite accomplished as you found the clothes you had been looking for. You began to strip, shamelessly listening in on whatever activity was happening beyond your bedroom wall. From the muffled sounds, you assumed they were making out on his bed. You felt relief in the lighter clothing, not as suffocated by your body heat. However, it did nothing to stop the tingling arousal building in your gut. You swallowed, discarding the other clothing in your hamper as you moved to clear off your bed. 

Something was keeping you from putting in your earbuds. The logical part of your brain was screaming to give Sanemi and the girl some privacy. The horny part of your brain was telling you to listen, see just how good he was in bed. How filthy… despite scolding yourself, you threw yourself down on your bed without your earbuds in. Nothing but silence rang in your ears, saved for the muffled noises next door. With nothing else to distract you, you focused on every noise coming from Sanemi’s bedroom. It seemed like an eternity but you finally heard the girl begin to moan. “You’re so good at that…fuck…” she drawled, when Sanemi didn’t respond, you assumed it was because his head was between her legs. Just rub it in a little more… you rolled your eyes, suddenly annoyed that you were even listening in the first place. 

The girl’s moans grew in tempo, muffled suddenly, likely by a hand over her mouth. You could tell by the sound of them that they weren’t fake nor were they being exaggerated. Christ he’s really making her moan like that… you felt a steady ache growing between your legs, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything about it. I refuse to stoop that low… you’d never let yourself live it down if you got off to your roommate fucking someone else. “S-shit!” you flinched as she came, your suspicions of Sanemi’s head being between her legs was proven correct a moment later. “Fucking liked that, huh?” she mumbled a response you couldn’t hear, her voice muffled as they seemed to begin making out again. You eyed your earbuds, you knew what was coming next and quite frankly you weren’t sure if you would survive hearing it. 

There was a few minutes of unintelligible noises, you couldn’t quite tell what the hell was going on until you heard a slap. That slap was followed by another, then another, until it fell into a steady rhythm. God damn. You nearly choked on your own spit as she began moaning again. You continued to listen, cheeks burning red hot when you heard Sanemi begin to make noises too. You listened, hands clenching your comforter as you listened to the sounds they made. This is so wrong! You screamed at yourself, still entranced by every noise the two of them made. At the rate he was going, it sounded as if he’d break his damn bed. Her moans were wild and unrestrained until they suddenly grew muffled. “I told you I have a roommate, wake her up and I’ll kick you out before you can finish” Sanemi’s words held deadly consequences, enough to make you shiver at the very thought of him speaking to you like that. 

Her moans remained muffled, it seems she was too far gone to even comprehend what Sanemi was saying to her. So you continued to lay there in agonizing anticipation, counting down the seconds until they finished and she either went to bed or went home. The sound of skin slapping skin only grew in tempo, much to your dismay. It’s going to be a long night, isn’t it? You groaned, rolling onto your stomach as the sounds of sex filled your apartment. For what it was worth, it was probably ten minutes before you heard Sanemi’s thrusts get sloppy. I figured he’d have some stamina. You snort softly, feeling a little desensitized to the whole situation. “Fuck… fuck…” you nearly squealed at his pants, he sounded completely fucked out. Hot. You listened more intently, his hand must have slipped from her face because she was moaning loudly once more. “C’mon…fucking cum… please…” she sounded desperate. 

Can’t say I blame her. You sighed, your mind painting the lewd picture for you. The throb between your legs was still present but you were refusing to do anything about it. “Fuck…you’re so fucking tight.” You flinched a bit, that comment seemed so unusual when you weren’t horny out of your mind. “Yeah? Makes you fucking wanna cum, huh?” You weren’t sure why, but the commentary was making you laugh a bit. I must be losing my mind, or I’m sleep deprived. You concluded as Sanemi’s sudden moan sent a shiver through your body. “Fuck…fuck I’m close.” He grounded out, your body feeling tingly as you pushed yourself upwards to listen better. “Yeah? Come then, please oh my fuck…” she drawled, loud and breathless. They sounded like they were running a marathon. You’re going to wake the whole building at this point. 

“Fuck… fuck y/n…” you froze, sitting straight up in bed with wide eyes. It took your brain a second to catch up, realizing that all noise in the apartment had come to a screeching halt. “Y/n… who the fuck is y/n?” The girl practically shrieked. You couldn’t even think straight, the silence making your ears ring as their “moment” was clearly ruined. Sanemi hadn’t said a single word, yet the girl screeched again. “Don’t tell me that’s your girlfriend? Oh my fucking god are you cheating?” She continued to scream until Sanemi’s hand came up and covered her mouth. Whatever he said was too quiet for you to hear, but the girl helped you out. “Your roommate? Your fucking roommate? You’re  fucking me while thinking about your roommate?” She sounded absolutely hysterical, you couldn’t say you blamed her though. 

“It was an accident!” He sounded defensive, which you also couldn’t blame him for. You’d be mortified if you moaned the wrong name… but you couldn’t help but chuckle at the fact that it had been your name. “Bull shit! This is so fucking humiliating!” You could hear shuffling, then his door opening. “Don’t ever fucking talk to me again, oh my fucking god.” She sounded livid, the ruffling sound told you she was picking up her clothes that had been scattered. “I’m sorry…” he sounded a bit defeated, likely because he hadn’t gotten the chance to finish. “What fucking ever dude! Go blow your load in your roommate since that’s clearly what you fucking wanted!” You cringed as the bathroom door slammed shut, followed by a string of curses under Sanemi’s breath. That's awkward… yet you couldn’t wipe the smirk off your face. 

You flopped back on your bed, struggling not to laugh at the sheer absurdity of the situation. He was thinking about me? While fucking her? I don’t know if I should be smug or offended. You were leaning more towards being smug. “Hey…” the bathroom door opened and Sanemi spoke again, you stopped smiling and listened. “Hey nothing, dickhead. Way to kill my fucking buzz and my orgasm. If you want to fuck your roommate so bad, grow a pair and fucking do it.” She sounded livid still, completely embarrassed that she had been used as a replacement. “I told you to keep it fucking down!” His voice was a whisper yell, you could practically hear her eye roll as she spoke again. “Fuck off.” Followed by her storming out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard the place rattled. “Fuck.” Sanemi sounded utterly defeated. 

Well… that was more than enough entertainment for tonight. You sighed, rolling onto your side, sleep tugging at your mind. You’d sleep peacefully knowing what you did now. You could only imagine how the conversation would go in the morning. Sanemi, on the other hand, was fuming at his own stupidity. “Way to go dumbass.” First girl he’d ever brought back to his “new place” and he royally fucked it up. He glanced down at himself, shame flooding his cheeks. He was still hard, the condom slick with the woman’s arousal. “Fuck.” He hissed again, moving to pick up the rest of his clothing before reentering his bedroom. There was no way he was going to sleep before dealing with the issue at hand. So, detested and embarrassed, he sat on the edge of his bed and worked himself with his own hand, hissing as he spilled into the condom. “What a fucking loser you are, Sanemi.” He spoke to himself, peeling the protection off and tossing it in the trash can beside his night table. 

The next morning you woke up with a dull headache. “Ouch.” You mumbled, making eye contact with the empty wine bottle on your bedside table. Within seconds, the memories of the night flooded your brain, a dopey grin tugging at your face as you rolled out of bed. You grabbed the wine bottle, pushing your room door open and slinking down the hallway towards the kitchen. It took you a second to realize Sanemi was already awake. “Oh.” you laughed a bit, watching as his head whipped around to look at you. “I didn’t expect to see you home.” You tease as you place the empty wine bottle on the counter. “Why is that?” You could tell he was hesitant, he didn’t know if you had heard anything that had transpired only a few hours prior. You shrug, eyeing his bare torso for a moment before opening the cabinet to find the pain relievers. “You were still out by the time I went to bed.” 

You were focused on getting a glass of water, the pill bottle in your hand. You didn’t see the way his eyes trailed over your body, his mouth feeling dry as he looked at you. “Yeah, I got in pretty late.” Sanemi murmured softly, focusing his eyes away from you to look at the coffee he was brewing. You hummed, shaking two pills into your hand. “Seems you had fun during your night home.” He teased you, eyeing the empty wine bottle. “Oh yeah, a blast.” you chuckled, tone sarcastic as you took the pain relievers for your headache. “I’m shocked you didn’t bring anyone home.” You suppressed a smirk, placing your cup in the sink as you turned to face him. “You’re such a pervert.” He laughed, hoping it hid the awkward tension creeping into his shoulders. “Me? A pervert? You wound me.” You faked a look of hurt, unable to keep up with it and cracking only a second later. “Yeah, you.” He countered back. 

“Since you’re dancing around the question, I’m gonna assume you got lucky.” You watched his ears turn a shade of red, eyes immediately darting from yours. “Oh? What’s that?” You snort, watching him toy with his coffee mug. “I wouldn't say I got lucky.” You raised an eyebrow, “bad experience?” You tried to sound sympathetic, as if you didn’t hear the whole thing go south. Sanemi nodded, pulling the carafe from the machine and dumping a generous amount of the black liquid in his cup. “Horrible.” Was all he said, moving to the fridge to grab cream. “Was she not good? Or was it something else?” You continued to pry, wondering how far you could push it until he caught onto you. “Eh, we just didn’t have chemistry.” He lied through his teeth, it seemed he wasn’t interested in learning if you knew or not. “That blows” was all you could come up with, turning to grab a mug out of the cabinet yourself.

“You know, my friends and I were going to go out tonight to celebrate midterms being over. You could always join, maybe find someone else to suit your needs.” You were being genuine, eyes focusing on the coffee you were pouring. Sanemi looked at you, glancing you over with a small sigh. “I appreciate it, but I don’t think that will help.” You merely shrugged, “if you change your mind you can let me know. I mean it’s only seven in the morning.” You chuckle, taking a seat at the small dining table with him. You both sat in silence for a bit, but you could tell there was something he wanted to ask. You knew what was clawing at the back of his mind but you chose to wait and see if he’d ask it first. “You’re telling me you didn’t hear us?” He nearly choked out, the grip on his coffee cup was nearly enough to shatter it. “Hear you?” You questioned softly, looking at him from over your coffee mug. 

“Yeah, I brought her back here… it didn’t end well and she wasn’t exactly quiet about it.” You were going to deny it but the vulnerability in his eyes had your shoulders sagging. “Fine, I didn’t want to make it awkward for you, but yeah I heard her leave. The apartment door slamming shut, I mean.” It was partially the truth, but you didn’t think you could ever let him know you heard him moan your name instead of hers. When he didn’t speak, you continued. “I kinda just figured it was your drunk ass stumbling home.” You chuckled softly, hoping to ease the tension that had been steadily growing. “And you didn’t come and check on me? How rude.” There he was, laughing softly and being a smart ass. Crisis averted for the time being it seems. “Eh I figured if you could make it into the apartment, you’d be able to get to your bed.” You laugh with him, setting your mug down. “My offer still stands, Sanemi. So just let me know.” 

You get up from the table, picking up your mug and heading to the kitchen. “I’ll think about it.” He mumbled softly, eyes glued to the expanse of skin you were showing. The shorts you were wearing could be classified as underwear, he felt his ears grow hot when he zeroed in on your ass peeking out from the bottom of them. You whirled around, beaming at him. He seemed a bit surprised, lips parting slightly as you smiled at him. “No pressure, but I’d love it if you came out with us.” You surprised yourself with how sincere you sounded, not that you weren’t serious about him joining you. Sanemi just nodded, still awestruck by your reaction. You turned and left, a smile plastered to your face as you returned to your bedroom. Sanemi sat at the table, mildly shocked that he had agreed to even think about it. But the way you looked at him… it had absolutely dumbfounded him into saying whatever would make you happy. “Fuck…” he muttered softly, hand coming up to rub his face. 

It wouldn’t be the end of the world. He thought quietly, the only issue with going out with you and your friends was the fact that you’d probably try and set him up with one of them. I’m not interested in any of her friends, I’m interested in her. He groaned, using one hand to rub his forehead. He couldn’t say no to you now, not when you smiled at him like that, not when you told him you’d love for him to join you. Suck it up, Sanemi. He grumbled to himself, there was no way he was going to disappoint you. Alone at the table, his mind wandered back to the events from a few hours ago. The girl he had brought home looked like you to an extent. Same hair color, same length, similar body type. He was cringing at his drunken, horny decision, he should have just left her alone. Especially when all he could think about was you, even when he was fucking her, all he was thinking about was you. 

Sanemi huffed, staring at the cloudy amber liquid in his cup. He was typically a black coffee guy, but you bought fancy creamers that he couldn’t resist. Now he took his coffee with a healthy amount of cream. Fuck I can’t even look at my coffee without thinking about her. He held in a laugh, amazed by how quickly you were taking over his mind. It’s not like it was the first time either, hell he wasn’t even sure when he started harboring feelings for you. Maybe it was at some point during one of the rainy weekends, the ones where you two would spend hours in the living room and order some food. Or maybe it was during one of your drunken races to the bathroom, laughing like kids doing something they shouldn’t. Perhaps it was the first time he saw you in a cocktail dress to go out with your friends, or the way you tucked your hair away when you needed to focus. Or, maybe, just maybe, he started falling for you the moment he met you. How fucking cheesy. But it was the honest truth. 

Sanemi sighed, it was too early in the morning to let you consume his every waking thought. Part of him figured he should just take a shower and go to bed again, it was Saturday after all. But the other part of him knew you’d still consume his thoughts, even his dreams if he let you. Eventually, he finished his cup and made his way to the bathroom. He needed to scrub her off of him, forget about the terrible interaction and maybe take her advice… grow a pair and act upon how he feels about you. Tonight may be the night to do it. He thought to himself, turning on the water and letting it fog up the glass. He couldn’t keep dancing around his feelings for you, especially since they were far more than just lusting after you. He wanted you to share his bed, fuck the separate rooms. He could turn your room into an office or something, anything to keep you by his side. You’re practically fucking love sick at this point. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. A few hours before you were set to leave and meet up with your friends, Sanemi let you know that he would be joining you. Now, you sat in front of the mirror on your dresser and did your makeup, the dress you wanted to wear laid on your bed. It was brand new, never worn except the time you tried it on in store. It was a simple black cocktail dress that ended at your mid-thigh. It was pretty typical for going out but you really felt no need to stick out, so simple was usually your go-to. You finished applying mascara and smiled at your work. Again, you were also going out to get drunk so the less makeup you put on meant the less you’d have to clean up at the end of the night. “Eyeliner, mascara, a little bit of concealer and… oh!” You reached for your lip stain, applying a generous coat to your lips before setting it down. While it dried, you went and pulled your heels from your closet and set them by the foot of your bed. 

You undressed, slipping into your dress and then sliding on your heels. Once completed, you returned to your dresser and dabbed your lips with a tissue, reaching for a gloss to apply on top. “This is a lot of effort for something that won’t even last me an hour” you chuckled as you twisted the top back on the tube of lip gloss, placing it on your dresser and reaching for your phone. Your screen lit up with messages from your group chat, it seemed everyone was already on their way to the club you had decided on. You sent a message letting them know that you and Sanemi would be there probably twenty minutes after them. After a moment a new chat popped up, causing you to laugh out loud. “So if you aren’t here in twenty, you’re getting laid. Gotcha.” You sent back the eye roll emoji before clicking your phone off and shoving it in your purse. “Sanemi? You ready?” You pushed your room door, peeking down the hall to see he was already sitting at the kitchen table. 

“Been ready for twenty…minutes…” he trailed off when you made your way down the hall, the teasing smirk on his face had shifted to one of mild shock. “What? Do I have something in my hair?” You laughed softly, twirling around as if you were pretending to look for something you couldn’t see. “No! No…I uhm…” he stood, hand going to the back of his neck. “No you, you look really good.” The tips of his ears were turning pink, a smirk tugging at your own lips at the sight. “Thank you, you clean up pretty good yourself.” You were a bit shameless as your eyes trialed over him. Sanemi had gone with his typical look. A short sleeve button up, this time made it a silky black material, the top buttons undone to expose his scared chest. He paid it with a pair of black slacks, a monochrome look that contrasted well with his partially slicked back white hair. “Thanks…” he muttered softly, ears turning from pink to red. 

You smile, not wanting to make things awkward for him before you even leave the apartment. “Do you want me to drive?” You were reaching for your keys, jumping slightly when Sanemi’s hand stopped you. “Absolutely not, I’ll drive.” He reached for his own car keys instead, chuckling as you looked confused. “When you’re out with me, you don’t have to worry about anything.” He opened the door for you, “unless you wanna drive.” You smiled as he added that on, shaking your head. “No, I don’t mind if you drive, I appreciate it.” You walked past him and into the hall, trying to hide the fact that you were excited for him to drive you both. You watched him lock the door before heading for the elevator, it was silent until you got to the car, but it was comfortable silence. “Ladies first.” He chuckled softly, pulling the passenger side door open for you. “Oh, why thank you.” You laughed, getting in and smiling as he shut the door for you. What a gentleman. You smiled at the thought. 

“Alright so…” he spoke as he climbed in the drivers side, turning the key so the engine purred with life. “You’ll have to give me directions on how to get there.” He glanced over at you, eyes trailing to your exposed legs before reaching for the gear shift. “Yeah no problem.” You smiled “when we get out of the garage you’ll take a left. Then you’ll get on the highway heading north and I’ll just tell you what exit to take from there.” Sanemi nodded, pulling the car into reverse and backing out of his space. “Sounds good to me.” Music was playing softly from his radio, just enough to fill the car with ambience. “It’ll just be the two of us, three of my friends and then I think one of their boyfriends is also joining. But to be fair, after thirty minutes everyone kinda scatters on the dance floor.” You chuckle a bit. “Usually they drag me with them to find guys to dance with… but since I have you…” you shot him a look, letting those words hang in the air for a moment “I don’t have to worry about them dragging me anywhere.” You smiled, noticing the way his cheeks tinged pink. 

“That’s a relief.” He muttered softly, a smile tugging at his lips while his eyes remained focused on the road. “I won’t be drinking all that much either.” He spoke softly “Since I’m carrying precious cargo, I’ll probably only have a beer or two. My tolerance is pretty high and I nearly got shit faced last night so… I’ll take it easy.” Sanemi chuckled softly, one hand resting on the wheel while the other relaxed against the center console. “Precious cargo, huh? Me? I’m flattered.” You relaxed into the seat, turning to look at Sanemi with a small laugh. “Yeah, you.” He didn’t seem flustered to say that, the smirk on his face making you blush. Your eyes lingered for a moment, watching his tongue dart out to lick his lips. That’s when you noticed something reflective. “Hold the fuck on… is that…” Sanemi glanced over at you, chuckling. “A tongue piercing? You just noticed it? I’ve had it since I moved in with you.” You looked completely flabbergasted, your whole body turning to look at him. 

“No fucking way! Sanemi Shinazugawa you’re lying.” You folded your arms, laughing at the absurdity of it, hoping it hid how excited it made you. Sanemi laughed now, wholeheartedly as he took the exit to get on the highway. “I’m not lying! I got it when I turned nineteen and I’m twenty one now. We’ve been living together for three months and you’ve never noticed I had a tongue piercing?” You were absolutely floored by this revelation. “Never! Then again I’m not usually observing your mouth.” It came out more cheeky than sarcastic, which in turn caused your face to turn warm. “Oh?” His voice seemed to drop an octave. “So you’re observing other parts of me, Hmm?” He was smirking now, eyes glued to the road while you stared at him open mouthed. “Oh you wish!” You laughed, settling back into the seat normally with your arms still crossed. “Sure I do.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, his fingers drummed along to the beat of the music coming from his radio. 

A comfortable silence fell over the car, the club itself was only a twenty minute drive so it wasn’t long before Sanemi was pulling into the already crowded parking lot. “How come I’ve never heard of this place?” Sanemi’s eyes were wide as he observed the people entering the building. “It’s pretty new.” You comment softly, texting your friends that you had arrived and would be inside in a few minutes. “That so?” He shut the car off, turning to look at you. “Yeah, which is a good thing because that means it’s all new shit.” You chuckled, you could recall a few bars and clubs you had gone to in the past that were… questionable to say the least. “I suppose you’re right.” He laughs softly, opening the door to get out. You follow suit, stepping into the cool evening with a sigh of relief. The world around you seemed to buzz with excitement, the pounding music could be heard from the parking lot. As you rounded the car, you noticed Sanemi seemed just a bit overwhelmed. 

“Is this your first time at a club?” You couldn’t help but smile at him. “Sorta? I’m used to bars honestly. I’ve only been to a club like two or three times and they definitely weren’t this… busy.” Seeing the opportunity, you moved forward and hooked your arm with his. “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure you stick close to me, yeah?” Sanemi’s brain short circuited for a moment, nodded as he let you lead him towards the building. He wasn’t quite sure what had rendered him speechless, the words you had spoken, the way you smiled at him, or maybe it was the fact that you were touching him. Better yet, it was likely all of the above. His eyes were glued to you as you walked with him, the angle giving him a perfect view of the swell of your chest. He swallowed, even though his shirt was unbuttoned he still felt suffocated. Sanemi was pulled from his thoughts as you happily waved to your friends. “We figured we’d wait for you since it’s pretty crazy already!” 

Sanemi barely listened, smiling and saying hello when you introduced him. It didn’t really matter to him anymore, not when you were so close to him. All he could think about was you. The feeling of your arm on his, the smell of your perfume, how good you looked. How was he supposed to do anything else when you had him so tightly wrapped around your finger. The thought nearly scared him. He was quiet as you all walked to get in line, his eyes remained glued to you as you chatted excitedly with your three friends and whoever’s boyfriend. You had told him, but he already forgot. “Sanemi?” You glanced up at him, watching as he blinked back into reality. “Huh? Were you talking to me?” You chuckled, noticing your friends smirk as they turned to move up in line. “No, but you were spacing out really bad. Do you get nervous in crowds?” You watched his cheeks turn a shade of pink, had he really spaced out that hard while staring at you? “W-wha.. no, no sorry…” he couldn’t think of an excuse if he tried, so you  hugged his arm a little tighter.

“I promise I won’t leave your side, so you have nothing to worry about.” You turned away before he could see the smirk creeping up your face. Before you knew it, you were being ushered inside of the dark club, the entire place was bathed in changing lights. The music was making the floor vibrate, the dance floor already flooded with people as the DJ played remixes of popular songs. You tugged Sanemi down to your level, yelling slightly “let’s go to the bar!” He nodded, allowing you to guide him through as you trailed behind your friends. He had a feeling this would probably be the last time he saw them for the rest of the night. You were leaning over the counter, yelling to the bartender what you wanted, turning to ask Sanemi what he would like. A moment later you were being handed the drinks, Sanemi pushing past you to place the money on the counter. You handed him his beer, sipping on the cocktail you had ordered for yourself. You grabbed his arm again, tugging him over to a high top table. “Crazy isn’t it?” You yelled across to him, your friends had already disappeared elsewhere. Sanemi nodded, eyes scanning his surroundings. 

“Where did your friends go?” He yelled back to you, not really caring that they had already dissolved somewhere in the crowd. “Probably already on the dance floor! It doesn’t matter though!” You laughed, already feeling a slight buzz from the strong drink, you never really had a tolerance in the first place. “Oh?” He laughed, sipping his beer “why’s that?” He continued, setting the cup down. You lean over, smiling at him “Cause I get to spend more time with you! Get your mind off of your shitty hook up.” You laughed as you straightened again, sipping more of your drink and bouncing gently to the beat of the music. Much to Sanemi’s relief, it was dark enough that you couldn’t see the way his cheeks turned a flaming red. You didn’t want to go anywhere until you finished your drink, there was no fun in dancing and spilling it everywhere. You glanced at Sanemi, noticing the way his eyes seemed to sparkle as he observed his surroundings, it was kind of cute. “I hope you don’t mind dancing!” You yelled to him, downing the rest of the cocktail with a grin. “Dancing? Me?” He still had half of his beer left, but that wasn’t going to stop you. 

“Yeah, you. Don’t tell me you came here just to stand around.” You laughed, setting your empty glass on the table before rounding it to stand next to him. “C’mon! Let loose a little.” Your hand rested on top of his, the one holding his beer cup to be exact. “You’ll have to get a couple drinks in me if you want me to let loose. And that’s not happening.” He smirked at you “Like I said, precious cargo, I need to get your pretty self home nice and safe.” You chose to ignore the pretty comment, despite the fact that it made your heart do backflips. “That’s fine, you’ll just have to get over it then and come out and dance with me sober. Everyone else is already drunk anyways, nobody is going to pay us any mind.” Liar he thought to himself, people were certainly paying you some of their mind. If one more person checked you out he was positive he was going to have a heart attack. “Not happening.” He laughed as you got closer, his heart pounding erratically as you looked up at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah, sure.” You laughed, taking a step away from him. “If you’re not going to join me, you can just watch.” You turned on your heels, maneuvering through the crowd so you could descend to the dance floor. Sanemi cursed under his breath, downing the rest of his beer and following after you. Cheeky little shit. He could help but smirk, catching up to you within a few strides and grabbing your arm. “What happened to staying close to me?” His voice was against your ear, bodies too close for him to not feel the way you shivered. “Change of heart.” You murmured, just loud enough for him to hear. “Not that it matters now, come dance.” He couldn’t say no to you, not even if he wanted to. You moved through the crowd, closer to the middle so he’d feel a little less awkward. The song began to change as you turned to face him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders so you could lean up and whisper in his ear. “Just do whatever feels right.” He couldn’t resist, his hands finding to it waist as you began swaying to the music. 

With your guidance, he began to move too, pushing past how awkward he felt about it until all he could see was you. He wasn’t even sure how it happened, but four songs had passed and the two of you were still dancing. Your bodies bumped into each other every once in a while because of the amount of people on the floor with you. It was claustrophobic, the amount of sweaty, drunk bodies swaying and grinding to the various beats the DJ played. But at that moment, he couldn’t have cared less. Not when you seemed to be having so much fun, your hands clinging to his shirt to keep him close as you danced. Sanemi let his hands wander, holding your hips just a little tighter, daring to drag you closer to him. You felt him hesitate, as if looking for your approval. You caught on, the slight buzz from your drink giving you enough courage to close the distance for him. You could have melted on the spot, your chest pressing to his due to the extra height from your heels. “Hey…” he uttered softly, just loud enough for you to hear. 

Your faces were inches apart, “… hey” you spoke softly. You were close enough that he could hear it over the music. You stopped swaying, standing completely still as you looked each other in the eye. You knew where it was going, but you wanted him to take the initiative. Sanemi’s eyes darted from yours, eyeing your lips before looking back up at you. Nervously, his tongue poked out to wet his lips, the ball of the tongue piercing glimmered under the strobe lights. There was only one time in his life that he had ever been nervous to kiss someone and it was because it was his very first kiss ever. Then again, he hadn’t really felt much for anyone outside of flings and the rare hook up. You though? You were something different entirely. It petrified him, in every possible way. Standing still on a raving dance floor just so happens to work in his favor. You both let out noises of surprise when someone accidentally bumps into Sanemi’s back, which causes him to fall into you. 

Your noses bump as the guy yelled out a sorry before stumbling further into the crowd. You begin to laugh, adding more distance when all Sanemi wanted was to close it. While you’re distracted, his hands leave your hips to cup your face, holding you in place as he closes the distance. You gasp into the kiss, the grip you had on his shirt tightening as if he’d disappear. Your initial shock disappears after a moment, your lips parting easily for him to enter. It thrills you, feeling Sanemi’s tongue sweep into your mouth, your own tongue dancing around him until you ghost across the metal tongue piercing. You whine, you had somehow already forgotten that crucial piece of information. Sanemi heard you, his hold on your face shifting back down to your hips as he swayed with you to the music again. You were fascinated by the metal, running your tongue along it until you felt the vibrations of Sanemi’s groan. 

You parted, gasping for air as the club around you suddenly felt way too overstimulating. One look told Sanemi everything he needed to know, his hand finding your own to pull you off of the dance floor. Your roles had quickly reversed, instead of you dragging Sanemi around the club, he was dragging you out of it. The cool night air no longer offered you any release, your ears ringing at the immediate volume change. “Sanemi…” he didn’t respond until you were well into the parking lot. “Yeah?” he turned to look at you, his lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “Nothing…” You smiled, just wanting to see his face. That one smile nearly made his knees week, his head turning to fumble with his keys. Once the car clicked open, he reached for the back door, making your heart leap into your throat as he made his intentions extremely clear. You felt a wave of heat flood your body, scrambling past him with a chuckle. By the time you threw your purse into the front seat, Sanemi was clambering in behind you and slamming the door shut. 

He was on you again in seconds, the cramped backseat not helping the situation but you would take whatever you could. Your dress rode up as you spread your legs to accommodate Sanemi on top of you, his hand shooting to grab the back of your head before it hit the window. “This isn't ideal.” you laughed, watching a smile tug at his own lips as he moved to kiss you for a second time. “I know it's not ideal…” he pulled away to speak before kissing you a third time “but I need you…so bad.” his voice had dropped to a hush whisper, your body responding immediately to the desperation in his voice. “It’s fine…” you choked out, the arousal throbbing in your gut drowned out any discomfort you felt. You pulled Sanemi to you, trying to shift your body into a laying position to see if it made things a little easier. Sanemi’s lips were on yours for a fourth time, shifting his weight to rely on his elbows as his body pressed tightly to yours. You moaned softly into the kiss, his weight sending waves of arousal straight to your cunt. It took a minute but you were finally able to settle into a somewhat comfortable position. 

Your hands found their way to his hair, ruining his attempt at wrangling the typically untameable strands. He groaned, shivering at the feeling of your hands on him, his own excitement manifesting physically as it brushed along your exposed thigh. “Fuck…” you pulled away, your mind going blank the moment his erection grazed you. Saliva kept your lips connected, breath mingling with one another as you panted. “Sanemi…” You spoke softly, his eyes zeroing in on you and clinging to every word. “Yeah?” he couldn’t think straight, the urge to rip your dress right off of you and fuck you stupid in the back seat of his car was clawing it’s way to the forefront of his mind. “Take me home. Please, if we’re going to do this… I want to do it right. Take me to our home.” He was putty in your hands, heart racing at the use of our. “Of course, fuck of course…” His dick throbbed at the very thought, scrambling to get off of you and get into the front seat. You followed after him, barely bothering to fix your dress as you got into the passenger side. Sanemi turned the keys, the car coming to life a moment later. 

Your thighs were squeezing together as he pulled out of the spot and drove towards the street. “Ah, ah, pretty girl…” Without even looking at you, Sanemi’s hand found your left thigh and forced it away from the other. “You can wait till we’re home.” He glances at you before turning onto the road, your eyes are lidded with need, focusing on the way his scarred hand is squeezing the plush flesh of your thigh. “No fair…” You whined softly, your body aching with need, the feeling of his hand only sending your thoughts into a helpless spiral. Sanemi didn’t break though, as much as he wanted to. He was quickly realizing it pained him to tell you no, regardless of the circumstance. All the while, your eyes were shifting between his hand and his groin. His cock was straining against the material of his pants, the slight clench in his jaw told you he was struggling just as much as you were. “You asked for this.” He murmured softly when he felt your eyes on him still. “Yeah, I know but…” the realization that there was still twenty minutes left in the drive felt like utter torture. “But nothing.” He teased you again. 

“Sanemi…” you tried again, it was a useless battle, especially since you were the one who told him you wanted to go home. “You can survive, c’mon now, you can’t be that needy for me already.” His tone was low, dripping with sarcasm. It made your face feel warm, squirming in your seat as you crossed your arms. “Me? Needy? Look at you.” You tried to give him the same attitude but you couldn’t muster the courage. With the information you knew, you could certainly rile him up. But you decided to save that revelation for later. “Look at me? I don’t need to self reflect to know how badly I want you.” He squeezed your thigh to drive his point home, smirking as you gasped and tensed at the feeling. You felt small in comparison, as if nothing you said would make him break. So you let him tease you, his hand massaging your thigh until you could feel your arousal dampening your underwear. How embarrassing. You held back a groan, hand itching to return the favor. As you came to a red light, waiting to take the exit for the highway, your hand crept over. 

You placed your hand over the prominent bulge in his pants, holding your breath as Sanemi inhaled sharply. “So that’s how you’re gonna be, Hmm?” He hummed softly, his hand leaving your thigh to undo his pants. “By all means, have fun.” You swallowed, seeing the opportunity he was allowing you and taking it. You fished him out of his pants, holding back a groan as his cock sprang forward. “Fuck…” you nearly choked on your own saliva as you looked at the size of him. The red light was filling the car with a dim glow, along you to see the shine already coating his tip. “Sanemi… I just want to make sure.” You stared at him, adjusting yourself in your seat. “Make sure of what?” He seemed nonchalant but you could see the way his jaw was tensing, eyes training on the traffic light and practically begging it to go. “That if I do this, you won’t crash the car.” You teased him a bit, but it was also a genuine question. Sanemi smiled at that, throat bobbing as he swallowed before stealing a glance. “I’ll be fine.” That quick look sent your heart into a flurry, the light switching from red to green as if giving you the go ahead. 

Sanemi’s foot hit the gas a little harder than necessary, shooting forward and knocking you back a bit. “Yeah…” you mumbled under your breath, readjusting in your seat “you’ll be fine.” You mimicked him, nearly turning completely sideways in the passenger side seat. “I promise, if it’s too much I’ll tell you to stop.” There was pink coating his cheeks, the one hand he had on the wheel was clutching it so tightly his knuckles were turning white. “Yeah, whatever you say…” You laughed, leaning over to tentatively wrap your hand around the middle of his shaft. You didn’t believe one word he said, especially with the way he inhaled as your hand did nothing more than wrap around him. “I’ll take it easy on you.” You leaned forward, unable to see the way Sanemi’s eyes widened when he realized what you were doing. He had assumed it would be nothing more than a handjob to tease him until the two of you arrived home. He felt his heart leap into his throat as your head lowered to his lap. “Oh fuck…” he swallowed, eyes flickering down to you before refocusing on the road. Your tongue glided along the head of his cock, a small moan escaping your lips as Sanemi’s other hand settled on top of your head. 

You felt the car slow for a second time as Sanemi rolled up to a second traffic light. You took the opportunity to lower your head further, taking in more of his cock. “Shit…” he hissed, eyes trained on the back of your head as you lavished him with your tongue. The light was quicker than he had wanted it to be, once again he stepped on the gas, holding his breath as he took the exit to get on the highway. You steadied yourself, the position a bit uncomfortable considering you were leaning over the center console to suck him off. You dared to go lower, taking in half of him before pulling back up. It took you a minute but you found a rhythm that felt good for you, listening intently to his quiet gasps over the sound of the wind hitting the car. You couldn’t see it, but Sanemi was pushing eighty-five miles an hour as he flew down the highway. His brain was going just as fast as the car, unable to process the reality that you were going down on him. Never mind the fact that you were doing it as he drove. Your tongue continued to lick along the head of his cock, pulling way to lick further down his shaft before returning to the top. 

Carefully you pulled away all together, leaving him gasping as you settled back into your seat. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous right?” you smirked at him, wiping the saliva from your lips as you did. Sanemi was a bit stunned, though he shouldn’t have expected anything less. Laughter bubbled in his throat, his free hand haphazardly tucking his still hard cock away. “No, I actually didn't. Though that just means I need to make things even.” His hand returned to your thigh, kneading the flesh as he continued to floor it down the highway. You swallowed, thighs parting a little further as you counted down the seconds until you were home. The alcohol was still lingering in your system, your nerves seemingly set on fire as your body ached for him. You wanted to give him more, you couldn’t wait to give him more. So far, your roommate was surpassing your expectations. Not when your wildest wet dream could compare to the things you were feeling now. Sanemi himself was nothing like the Sanemi you fantasized about, he was far better. That realization had you squirming in your seat, the silver ball tongue piercing lingering in your mind as you thought about what it would feel like. 

“I have to ask…” you sighed softly, you were maybe ten minutes away now. Sanemi glanced at you quickly before looking at the road again, he said nothing, waiting for you to continue. “Does the tongue piercing make you better at giving head?” You laughed a bit but the question was serious. Sanemi smiled, a look of pure cockiness on his face. “So I’ve been told, I’ve even considered buying one of those stupid vibrating tongue piercings but I haven’t really had a reason to do so.” His cock was throbbing as he spoke, he certainly had a reason now to buy such a lewd item. The very thought of using a vibrating tongue ring on you had precum dampen his briefs. “You’ll have to show me your skills, maybe you’ll have to eat me out twice to show me the difference with and without.” You usually would have choked on your words saying something like that, but the way Sanemi’s lips parted in surprise made you glad you said it. “So you want me to go down on you? Why don’t you amuse me and tell me all the things you want your beloved roommate to do to you, hmm?” You felt your face grow warm, the grip he had on your thigh grew tight. 

“Well, for starters, I would love for my beloved roommate to go down on me.” You sighed, still thinking about what it would be like. “I would also love for my roommate to fuck me stupid, specifically in his bed.” You felt no shame or embarrassment confessing what you wanted, the way Sanemi’s nails dug into your flesh told you he enjoyed every word you spoke. “Specifically my bed? Why is that?” He wasn’t sure why that stirred something in him, he already had every intention of taking you to his room when you finally got back. But hearing you utter those words had him feeling possessive. “I don’t really know…just like the idea. Your bed always looked comfy to me, and your room always smells nice.” What you wanted to say is that it smelt like him. His grip on your thigh had loosened just a bit when he figured he was leaving nail indents in your skin. Instead, Sanemi moved to massage the flesh as he took the exit off of the highway. You were nearly home, his mind was practically turning to mush as the anticipation grew even heavier. “What else?” 

His voice was growing hoarse, he had never wanted to fuck someone as badly as he wanted to fuck you in that very moment. “I want to finish what I started of course.” You glanced at him and then down to his lap, a smile on your lips as he inhaled deeply. “Yeah? Sounds like we’re going to have a long night.” You sighed, fidgeting a bit as your apartment building finally came in view. “We better, I got all dressed up just for you to drag me out of the club.” You laughed as he turned to look at you, the look was of pure disbelief. “By all means I can take you back.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, he wouldn’t let you go out of arm's reach at this point. “No way, I’d kick your ass.” Your hand shot down to grab his wrist, gently pulling him off your thigh. You could see his visible confusion as he watched the road, unsure of what you were doing. Slowly, you intertwined your fingers with his, smiling at the fact that he let you do it so easily. You brought his hand upwards, gently placing a kiss to the back of it. Sanemi inhaled, eyes itching to look at you but he needed to focus as he turned into the parking garage. 

You continued to place kisses on his scarred hand, kissing your way over his knuckles and up each finger. You watched as Sanemi pulled into the garage, mildly impressed that he was able to take the sharp turns with only one hand on the wheel. Your body felt as if it had been shocked with electricity as he pulled into his assigned space. You let go of his hand even though you didn’t want to, opening the car door to get out before he had even turned the vehicle off. You were too eager to speak, marching your way towards the elevator as Sanemi scrambled to follow you. “Excited?” He laughed, as if he wasn’t chasing after you with long strides. “Of course I am.” You shot him a wink as you hit the button, the elevator doors opening slowly. Once you both stepped in, all bets were off. You gasped as his hands found your waist again, pulling you to his chest so he could crush his lips against yours. “The camera…” you pulled away as you began to ascend, Sanemi couldn’t care less that this would be caught on surveillance. So he kissed you again, making his point clear as you gave in and wrapped your arms around his neck. 

It wasn’t long before the doors opened and you had to part again reluctantly, this time Sanemi was grabbing your hand and tugging you down the hall. His free hand was fumbling with his pocket, pulling out his keeps as you reached the door. You watched the key slot into the lock with bated breath, your knees nearly giving out as the door swung open and you both stumbled inside. You didn’t get a chance to properly shut the door, Sanemi was pressing you against it and effectively slamming it shut in the process. You didn’t get a chance to complain either because Sanemi was nearly suffocating you as his lips crashed to yours again. This time it was fully unrestrained, his hands pushing your dress upwards while your hands tugged at his top. The kiss turned into a messy clash of teeth and tongue until he was pulled away to bury his face in your neck instead. You gasped, the sensation of his teeth grazing your skin making you shiver as his hands trailed up your side to start tugging your dress down from the top instead. “You’re going to destroy my d-dress…” You choked as his teeth sunk into your skin. 

He only groaned in response, tongue licking along the teeth indents he had left behind. “Yeah whatever, I’ll buy you a new one.” He seemed fully unbothered, head dipping low again to suck along your jaw. Your heart was beating in your throat, hands finding their home in the hair you disturbed earlier when kissing him. “S-shit…” You sighed as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your jaw before returning to your neck. His hand gripped the top of your dress again, yanking it down harshly until you heard the zipper tear. “Sanemi!” you didn’t quite care at that moment but you knew it would bother you in the morning. “I said I’d buy you another one. Fuck I’ll buy you as many dresses as you want if it means I can tear them off of you.” He returned to leaving hickeys on your neck, not stopping until purple bruises littered your skin. You squealed as your dress was pushed down further, your breasts finally freed from their confines. Sanemi took a second to admire before attaching his lips to your nipple. A loud moan escaped you, eyes wide as you felt him suck and lick the sensitive skin. The moment the ball of his tongue piercing glided along your breast you knew you were done for, your eyes nearly rolling back as your mind went wild. 

He continued to run his tongue along your skin, flicking your nipple strategically with his tongue piercing every few goes. You could feel your knees going weak, you couldn’t support your body weight much longer if he was going to tease you like this. Sanemi seemed to realize, pulling away from your breast with a soft pop, a string of saliva keeping his mouth and your breast connected. He said nothing, rather he smirked at you, reaching down to hook his arm around your waist and haul you up and over his shoulder. “Sanemi!” you practically shrieked, you knew he was strong but you didn’t think he was that strong. You could feel his laughter, his shoulder digging into your stomach as his free hand came up to land a swift smack on your dress-clad ass. A string of profanities left your lips as Sanemi pushed his room door open, your ass cheek was stinging from the impact of his spank. “Colorful words you got there.” He snorted as he dropped you onto his bed, watching you bounce a little before settling. “Oh whatever.” your face was warm, eyes struggling to meet his. Sanemi’s head tilted, admiring how you looked. Half naked, breasts exposed and wet with his saliva. Pretty bruises littering your neck, your lips swollen from his kisses, your hair tousled from all the movement. To him, you had never looked better. 

Sanemi sighed, undoing the rest of the buttons that you had nearly ripped off, tossing the shirt to the ground and smiling as it caught your attention. “So…” he began, taking a step towards the side of his bed before leaning forward. He braced his arms on either side of your hips, the mattress dipping further under his added weight. “What do you want first? Continue where we left off… or let me get a taste…” His forehead was nearly touching yours, breath mingling as he waited for your response. “It’s your turn…” You spread your thighs a little further, hand reaching for his shoulder as you motioned for him to get on his knees before you. Sanemi huffed out a laugh “it’s hard for me to say no when you look at me like that.” His knees hit the ground with a soft thump, his hands sliding up your thighs and forcing a shiver out of you. “Do I have your permission to take this dress off of you?” His head tilts, waiting for your answer. “A-absolutely you do…”  you lifted your hips, helping him tug the material off you and drop it off to the side. Sanemi took a minute, drinking in the sight of your bare skin. He was staring at you as if he was trying to memorize every inch of your skin. “So…” your voice was soft, anticipation killing you. 

“Sorry.” his face turned red, his hands grabbing for the waistband of your panties. “You’re so beautiful.” He couldn’t look at you as he said it, if he did he was convinced his heart would implode on the spot. “So are you.” You lifted your hips for him a second time, allowing him to take the last piece of clothing you had on, off of you. “Don’t flatter me.” his tone was teasing, eyes taking on a different look as your cunt was exposed to him. No further words were spoken as Sanemi coaxed your legs open further. You braced yourself on your elbows, legs dangling off the side of the bed as Sanemi slowly moved to kiss your thighs. The shine from his tongue piercing glimmered in the moonlight leaking through his window, sending shockwaves of arousal through you as his hands moved to hold your hips. His hair tickled your thigh as he licked fat stripes up your skin, avoiding the place you wanted him most just to tease you a little further. You watched him with bated breath, whining softly as his breath fanned over you before pulling away. “Sanemi… please.” You had waited far too long for him to tease you like this. Sanemi huffed out another laugh, the persistent twitch in his pants was making him impatient as well. 

He stopped teasing you, his hands finding their way to your thighs again as he lowered his head. Your body tensed as the flat of his tongue licked along your folds. The metal ball of his tongue piercing was more prominent than you thought it would be, even though it was as warm as the rest of him, you felt it. “Oh…” you gasped, head falling backwards. You were torn between keeping yourself propped up so you could watch and just laying back to enjoy it. Sanemi’s tongue continued to lap at your cunt, purposely avoiding the place you wanted him the absolute most. “Sanemi please…” You were aching for him to pay attention to your clit, but the small smirk that tugged on his lips as he nipped at your inner thigh told you this was payback. “Sanemi please! I said I would finish what I started in the car… stop teasing me…” Your hips wiggled, thrusting upwards as if you could force him to eat you out the way you wanted. One movement and he had stilled you completely, his hand splaying across your abdomen and pushing you back to the mattress. “Relax.” His tone held authority, making you feel rather pathetic for squirming in the first place. “Sorry…” you settled again, eyes struggling to hold contact with him. “Good girl.” 

You chewed on the inside of your cheek, Sanemi’s head dipping down again to eat you out with a little more fervor. He ran the ball of his tongue piercing along your lips, leaving a shining trail of saliva in its wake. A quiet whine slipped past your lips, hand fisting in his comforter as you tried not to seem too impatient. He caught on of course, finding it impossible to hold off any longer. As much as he wanted to take his time, he was far too excited to keep holding off. A loud gasp slipped past your lips as his tongue flicked across your clit, the metal ball hitting it the second time. “Oh fuck…” The feeling of his tongue piercing very different, each pass over your clit made your thighs tense. Sanemi’s mouth moved to wrap around the pulsing nerve, sucking harshly while swiping his tongue repeatedly. The motion had your arms giving out, falling flat on the bed as you moaned completely unrestrained. Sanemi continued, one hand still pressing down on your abdomen as he used the other to place one leg over his shoulder. He quickly switched, placing his other hand on your abdomen so he could grab your other leg and throw it over his shoulder as well.

 This way, you couldn’t close your legs if you wanted to and now he had the ability to do what he did next. Your entire body tensed as two fingers slipped inside of your already wet cunt, curling perfectly before uncurling again to thrust sloppily. “S-sanemi!” You choked out his name, the sudden intensity making your eyes water as he fucked you with his fingers and tongue. As quickly as he gave in, he stopped, pulling away just enough to gasp for air. You whined, glancing down at him to see his lips and chin covered in a mixture of saliva and your arousal. “Sanemi.” All you could utter was his name at this point, no other words would come to mind unless it was to beg him to keep going. “You didn’t think I was going to be that generous, did you?” He used your own line against you, smirking as your head fell back with a groan. “L-let me make it up to you. I-I’ll finish what I started but you have to do the same.” Your previous confidence had flown out the window, your mind too cloudy to think of anything else but his tongue. “Oh, I see what you mean.” Sanemi’s hand left your cunt, moving to hold your legs and caress them softly. “How about this?” He moved your legs off of his shoulders, the position itself had made your stomach do backflips so you were a bit sad it was already over. 

You watched him straighten, standing at his full height so he could take off his pants and boxers. “Sit up, move further in.” he motioned for you to move towards the center of his bed, your heart rate spiking significantly when you realized he really had caught on to what you were implying. Within seconds, Sanemi was as bare as you, giving you a moment to admire him in his entirety before he crawled onto the bed with you. You couldn’t help yourself as you leaned over to kiss him, shivering as his hands found your hips and held you as he lowered himself into a lying position. You pulled away, lips slick with saliva as you looked down on him. “I think you know what to do… or do you want me to explain.” The look in his eyes was a teasing one, tongue sliding out to lick your saliva from his lips. “I got it.” You rolled your eyes, turning away before he saw you smile. “Alright then, show me.” It was a little awkward at first but you positioned yourself with your thighs on either side of his head, your cunt hovering just inches above your face. “Let me know when.” your voice was hoarse, Sanemi’s hands found their way to your hips again and pulled you down. You squealed as he forced nearly all of your weight on his face, until it felt like you would suffocate him. 

“A-are you sure that's not too much?” You moaned as his tongue immediately found its way to your entrance, taking that as a yes, you leaned forward to wrap your hand around his aching cock. You gave him a few deliberately slow pumps before lowering your mouth. Your lips suctioned around his tip for the second time that night, tongue lapping at the bitter precum still oozing from him. You could feel him pulsate as you used one hand to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fit, drool seeping down his length to act as lube. You took a chance, your free hand coming down to hold his balls. The reaction you got was a loud groan vibrating your cunt, Sanemi’s tongue working even harder as your orgasm suddenly began to build in your gut. You massaged him gently, tongue licking up the underside of his shaft while you shamelessly fondled his balls. The intensity building in your gut was enough to have your hips jerking away from Sanemi’s face, tears pricking your eyes as you tried to take even more of his length. A loud yelp left you as Sanemi’s hands found your hips and forced them right back down on his face. The ball of his tongue piercing slid across your clit again before dipping into your entrance. You nearly pulled off of him, fully overwhelmed by pleasure, but you managed to stop yourself. 

You continued to pump what you couldn’t fit, head bobbing in rhythm with your fist. Groans continued to vibrate your cunt, your hand still massaging the sensitive flesh. You never really knew what to do with them, but the way Sanemi was groaning told you that you were doing something right. The grip Sanemi had on your hips tightened significantly, his cock pulsating against your tongue. Strangled noises left your lips as your orgasm continued to build, the way his balls tightened in your grasp told you he was going to reach his climax at any second. You squirmed, your pace growing erratic as your hips grind down on Sanemi’s face. He encourages you, hand pushing and pulling your hips at a faster pace, finding the way your cunt ground on his tongue to be utterly exhilarating. Before you could process it, your hips were stuttering to a halt, your eyes watering as your orgasm snuck up on you. You spilled all over his tongue, a gush of warmth making your face turn hot as you struggled to continue sucking him off. Luckily for you, coming on his face was enough to send Sanemi over the edge as well, groaning loudly as he spilled into your mouth. You swallowed what you could, the rest dribbling down your chin as you rolled off of him and to the mattress below. 

You were gasping for breath, staring at the ceiling as you blinked stars from your vision. You didn’t get a chance to say anything before Sanemi was sitting up and maneuvering himself to hover over you. “I’m not done with you yet.” He looked unbearably good with his hair a mess, lips swollen and shining, his pupils dilated. You reached for his face, pulling him down to crash your lips together in a sloppy kiss. His hands roamed your body, one of them moving to slip between your thighs and finger your already sensitive cunt. “F-fuck…” you pulled away, only given a second to breath before his lips were on you again. The kiss tasted of arousal, your own mixing with his, it was almost intoxicating. Paired with the way Sanemi’s fingers curled inside of you, the remnants of your first orgasm prickled in your gut. You whined into the kiss, nails dragging along his shoulders as soft squelches filled the room. “You’re so fucking beautful.” Sanemi is heaving as he parts from you, he looks completely fucked out as he looks down to watch his fingers disappear and reapper from your greedy cunt. “You can take it, right? You still got some energy, yeah?” his cock was still achingly hard. 

“Y-yeah…fuck…please just… don’t make me wait any longer, Sanemi…” He kissed you again, this time it was full of passion as he moved to crawl over you rather than lay beside you. He pulled away, looking down at you with parted lips before realizing something. “Wait, fuck we need a condom.” As he began to get off of you, your hand shot forward to stop him.”n-no we don’t… we don’t need it.” Your hands shook as you held onto his bicep, your eyes pleading with him. “We don’t need it?” He questioned, a bit shocked at what you were saying. “No…I’m clean.” You seemed to be ignoring the fact that he could easily get you pregnant. “So am I… I’ve only ever used condoms and…” he didn’t even get to fuck the girl from the night before so there was really no risk of fucking you raw. Maybe it was the lust fogging his mind and ruining his judgment, or maybe it was the sheer thrill of getting to feel you for the first time completely bare, but he agreed, choosing to forgo the condom and crawl back over you. “Are you sure?” his tone was hushed, one hand bracing himself while the other moved down to grab himself. You nodded, moving your legs to wrap around his waist so he could position himself. “Positive…just come on… Sanemi I need you, so bad.” He was a goner the moment you said that, any hesitation fleeing his body as you begged him. “Okay…okay…” he hushed you, leaning down to kiss you.

Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer as you felt the dull head of his cock drag up and down your folds. You fumbled around a bit each time the metal ball of his piercing grazed your tongue, your hips jerking upwards to try and move him along. He was still teasing you, despite his own desperation to be inside of you. You pulled away, eyes closing as Sanemi’s tongue ran along your jaw. “Sa..Sanemi please…” you moaned at the pressure of his cock head pressing to your entrance. “Okay… okay… so impatient baby just relax…” You shivered at the nickname, something so simple made your body feel like it had been jolted with electricity. After another minute of your breathy whines, Sanemi gave in, steadying himself as he pressed his hips further into you. You both let out shaky gasps as his head pushed in, your walls immediately suctioning to the intrusion yet welcoming him at the same time. You watched Sanemi’s head look down, his hair tickling your face as he watched himself disappear inside of you inch by inch. “S-sanemi…” you choked out again, his head moving to look up at you with blown out pupils. “Yeah?” hoarse and desperate, he didn’t think he’d ever get enough of you looking at him like that. “Faster, please…” he hadn’t even bottomed out yet, a smile tugged at his lips. “God you’re so desperate, you want me so bad that it’s still not enough even when you have me.” You nodded, hands clinging to shoulders as you looked up at him. “I can’t argue with that…'' you whined as his hips met yours, his cock fully sheathed inside of your cunt. You clenched involuntarily, watching the smug smirk on his face disappear as a low moan slipped past his lips. You both stayed still, trying to adjust to the feeling of him inside of you. “You're j-just as bad.” you choked out, hips growing restless as you waited for him to gain his composure and move. The hand Sanemi had used to guide himself in was now moving to grab the back of your leg. You watched him curiously, letting him move your body into whatever position he pleased. A whine slipped past your lips as he shifted his weight into his knees, the movement pulling him out a bit before quickly pushing back. He was silent, forehead creased in concentration as he got both of your legs up over his shoulders. Sanemi inhaled deeply “This okay?” You nodded quickly, your body aching for some sort of relief as he purposely kept himself buried in you. “Y-yeah but you’re driving me insane… Sanemi please move…” Tears pricked your eyes, moaning loudly as his hips drew back half way before slamming back in. 

Sanemi’s eyes squeezed shut, groaning as his cock dragged along your walls. It took a few thrusts but Sanemi found his rhythm, your moans encouraging him, pairing well with the sound of your skin slapping together each time he buried himself balls deep. Your entire body jiggled with the force of his thrusts, your head tilting back as he fucked you in earnest, babbling sweet praises to you each time his hips drew back. You couldn’t catch your breath, each thrust dragged across a particular spot, one that had you seeing stars. Your vision blurry as tears leaked down your cheeks, the pressure in your gut building but not enough to make you cum. Your hand shakily tried to move down, aiming to rub your clit and bring you to your climax but Sanemi stopped you. “N-not until I say so…” he huffed out, sweat dripping down his temple as he pressed your legs further against your chest with his body. “I’ll tell you w-when…” he groaned, your walls clamping down around him as you sobbed. He would be concerned if it weren’t for the guttural moans falling out of you with each drag of his cock, you were nearly fucked stupid at this point and he was enjoying every second of it. “You-You’re so fucking hot…” he grounded out, the throb in his dick only increased with each thrust, he needed to make sure he pulled out but the way your pussy clung to him was almost too much to fight against. 

You responded with incoherent babbling, profanities and his name were the only intelligible words he could make out every so often. Sanemi switched his pace, rolling into you slowly until you were gasping for air, “S-Sanemi!” your hands gripped his shoulders, looking up at him with wide and desperate eyes. “Hmm?” he smirked down at you, each roll of his hips had him bumping your clit. “F-fuck…” he adored teasing you, the way your nails raked his skin as he tried to calm himself down. It was the only reason he changed his pace, he didn’t want this to end just yet, edging himself and you until he was absolutely desperate. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am, tell me how good I am at fucking you.” You choked, throat feeling dry as your restless hips tried to speed up his movements. “I don’t think so, pretty girl.” Sanemi drew out of you all together, ignoring your pleading as he moved to place both of your legs on one shoulder. He hugged them together with one arm, effectively immobilizing your restless body. “I’m not giving you what you want until you tell me…” He cooed softly, hand reaching down to wipe the tears leaking down your cheeks. You caught your breath, your cunt throbbing from the lack of contact when you had been so close to coming again. 

“You’re so mean…” You hiccuped, acting as if he hadn’t given you everything you had wanted thus far. “Mean? Me?” he cooed softly, leaning over you a bit. “I’m sorry baby, but I’m not doing anything until you tell me how good I’m doing.” he repeated, tongue sticking out a bit as he smiled, biting down softly so you could see the underside of the tongue piercing. “Y-You’re doing good…” you whined, hands fidgeting as you couldn’t figure out where to place them. “Mmm? You can do better than that, tell me in detail.” The tip of his cock dragged along your folds, further driving you towards insanity at his sudden need to edge you. You squirmed, mouth feeling dry as you tried to conjure up a response that would please him. Your brain felt like mush though, face flooding with heat as you began to speak. Y-you’re fucking me so good, b-best I’ve ever had…” Sanemi smirked, his fingers thrumming along your calf. “Keep going, I know you have more to say.” His free hand was still dragging his cock through your folds, coating himself in your slick heat. “Sanemi… come on…” you whined, chest rising and falling rapidly each time he passed over your clit. You were sensitive enough that you were convinced you could cum just from that. 

“Ah Ah, Sanemi nothing. Tell me how good my cock feels, my tongue, my fingers. I know you have a lot to say, you’re just being stubborn.” His eyes scanned over your face, the urge to kiss you was clawing at the back of his mind but the position didn’t allow him any room for that kind of movement. “Fuck! Y-you’re gonna make me cum if you…” Sanemi’s ears perked up, a smirk tugging at his lips as he continued to drag himself along your pussy. “Yeah? You’re gonna cum again just from this? All the more reason to tell me, baby.” You felt like you couldn’t breath, your orgasm building and tingling in your gut as you struggled to form coherent thoughts. “...ood…good… so fucking good your tongue is amazing. A-and your cock is-is better than I ever imagined it would be… so much better…” That caught his attention, swallowing thickly as he asked you to clarify. “Than you ever imagined? So… you’ve imagined me fucking you before?” He seemed to turn breathless, mouth hanging open just a bit as he watched your face contort. You were going to cum just from this, it was driving him wild. “Y-yes! Fuck I imagined you fucking me stupid all the t-time…” your hands fisted the sheets below you, pulling them taught as your walls clenched around nothing at all. “More…tell me more…” he needed to hear it. 

“O-oh fuck…” you were nearly there. “Those mornings… fuck those mornings where i’d find you in the kitchen sh-shirtless… you fucking tease…” Your head fell back, gasping for air before you continued. “A-all I could think about was y-you bending me over the fucking counter and fucking me stupid…” Your orgasm was within reach, each sinful drag of his cock over your pulsating clit had you seeing stars. Your words seemed to do something to him, a loud moan ripping from your throat as he plunged back inside of you. Your orgasm rippled through you, walls twitching around him as you pathetically gripped him like a vice. It fizzled out far too soon, the lack of contact with your clit ending it almost prematurely. That didn’t stop the pleasure coursing through your body as Sanemi started right out of the gate with a brutal pace. “S_san-emi…” You wailed, nearly ripping his sheets as you tried to find some sort of stable grounding. “P-perfect… you’re so fucking perfect… with such a filthy fucking mind… Do you know how many times I got off thinking about you? Your beloved roommate is a perv…” he huffed out a laugh, looking at you with lidded eyes. “But it looks like my beloved roommate is just… as bad…” he groaned. 

You wailed, eyes squeezing shut as his hips continued to ram his cock into you. His words did nothing but encourage your pleasure, the mild overstimulation had melted into pleasure. You could barely think straight but that didn’t stop you from feeling the persistent twitch of his cock, he was going to cum soon. You clenched around him, trying to tease him back and push him towards the edge, sweat dripped down his temple as he looked at you. “Naughty girl… you want me…my cum hmm?” his voice was hoarse, the strength in his teasing was dying out as his own release built. You nodded shamelessly, “p-please Sanemi…Nemi please…” The quiet nickname nearly did him in, hips stuttering for a moment before he found his pace again. “You want my cum? You want me to fill you up? Stuff you full…” the desire to spill inside of you was all too tempting, regardless of the potential consequences for doing so. He wouldn’t let himself get caught up in that daydream just yet, not when you were so pliant, not when you were so easily letting him have you however he pleased. His grip on your legs tightened, keeping you positioned with them both over one of his shoulders. This angle allowed him to watch the way your thigh and ass jiggled with the impact of each thrust. 

“Y-yes…yes…fuck… please.” you babbled out, drool nearly slipping past the corner of your lip. Sanemi knew he was done for, the way you were looking at him was enough to make him melt. He’d never be able to deny you of anything you wanted, especially when you were looking at him like that. Caught up in his own emotions, his hips stuttered into a halt as his orgasm ripped through him. He moaned, completely unrestrained as his head fell forward with his eyes squeezed shut. His release spurted into you, making you whine as he pathetically thrusted into you with a shaky roll of his hips. The room fell silent, nothing but his panting mixed with your own, filling the quiet space. It took a few moments before either of you were ready to speak, your body feeling a bit sore. “Fuck…” Sanemi huffed out a breathless laugh, pulling out of you slowly. He watched for a moment as his cum leaked out of your abused entrance. He had to force himself to look away, setting your legs down gently. “Fuck.” you repeated him, a lazy grin on your face as you stretched, grimacing just a bit as you felt his release smear on your thighs. 

Sanemi fell backwards, sprawling out on his mattress with one of his pillows beneath his head. You sat up, eyes shamelessly roaming over him and the content smile on his face. You thought about it for a moment before crawling over him. Sanemi watched you with an amused stare, your weight settling on him perfectly. Your thighs rested on either side of his hips, knees making the mattress dip as you laid forward and squished your chest to his. Your hands came up to hold his jaw, lazily kissing along his sweaty skin. Sanemi let you do as you pleased, hands coming down to hold your waist as you showered him in affection. “I meant every word I…tried to say.” you laughed softly, kissing his neck one last time before looking at him. “Mmm, I’m glad… I meant every word I said too, you know.” one hand left your waist to push your hair out of the way, the hair he had messed up while fucking you. It gave him satisfaction for some reason. You smiled, hands trialing from his face to his chest as you carefully pushed yourself into a sitting position. “Do you trust me, Sanemi?” That question had him looking at you with hesitation. 

“Well, let’s see. You convinced me to fuck you with no condom, and you convinced me to creampie you…” he laughed as you playfully hit his chest. “I also live with you, I don’t lock my door at night…so I think…” he trailed off, fingers dancing along the skin on your thighs as he held you. “... I think it’s safe to say I do, in fact, trust you.” You laughed, rolling your eyes a bit “You’re such a drama queen.” Sanemi smiled up at you, the moonlight hitting you perfectly. Your smile seemed to shine, making his heart flutter. “Maybe I am, but I gave you my answer. It’s only right if you tell me why you asked.” Your fingers traced shapes on his chest as you looked at him through your lashes. “Well… I’m in the mood for more.”  You started tentatively, gauging his reaction as you spoke. You nearly shivered at the way his eyes changed, quickly adapting a more sultry look. “That so? You’re still hungry for more?” his heart could explode on the spot, his dick immediately twitching to life again. “Yeah, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to get enough of you.” That statement alone had Sanemi’s cheeks turning a shade of red. “I can easily say the same.” You laugh softly, feeling him twitch against the swell of your ass. 

Your fingers continued to trace shapes along his chest, trailing down to his stomach and back up again. You counted the scars as you went, toned muscle flexing as you seemed to hit a ticklish spot. You kept him waiting, his hands holding your hips tightly as he waited for you to do something. “This is going to be my payback, isn’t it.” He laughed softly as you smiled, looking up at him with a mischievous look in your eyes. “Of course it is… you’ll comply, right?” of course he would, you could ask him to run naked through the street right now and he’d likely do it just to see you smile. “Kiss me.” it came out as a whisper, the look in his eyes pleading you to do it. You melted, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. It was different from any kiss you had shared that night, it was soft and sensual, as if you would devour the other whole. You began to laugh as the ball of his tongue ring clinked against your tooth. Sanemi erupted into a fit of giggles, the sound vibrating his chest. “That’s the first time that's ever happened.” You smiled, placing a chaste kiss on his lips before speaking. “Oh? Glad I could be your first something.” Sanemi’s head tilted against the pillow, “You’ve been a couple of firsts for me already.” he teased with a gentle grin. 

That piqued your interest, pushing up gently until you were sitting again. His cock was still standing proudly, twitching slightly against your ass. “Please indulge me.” Sanemi laughed, hands sliding up and down your thighs slowly. “You’re the first person to make me dance at a club, the first person to give me road head, the first girl I ever fucked raw and came in…” he laughed as you slapped his chest again “You asked!” he squeezed your thighs a bit, eyes lighting up as you laughed with him. You leaned forward again, kissing him deeply for the umpteenth time. This time it was a little different, one of your hands planted firmly to Sanemi’s chest as you used the other to reach behind and grab him. He gasped into the kiss, allowing you to swallow it whole as you positioned him right at your entrance. You settled back slowly, engulfing him in wet heat. You felt different to him this time, your arousal mixed with his cum making you feel even wetter than before. His nails raked your thighs as you sat down fully, chest heaving as you adjusted to him being inside of you again. You both stared at each other in silence, your hips rolling slowly. You indulge yourself for a minute, squirming as your clit dragged along his pubic bone with each slow roll of your hips. Sanemi watched you, completely entranced by your body.

“This time around…” you stopped rolling your hips, hands splaying across his abdomen as you gauged how much you could move. “...you’re going to tell me how good I’m fucking you.” with your knees digging into the mattress, you could lift your hips about half way before dropping them down again. You were satisfied with that for the time being, smiling sweetly at Sanemi as you tried to find your rhythm. He watched you closely, mouth parted slightly as you began to properly bounce on him. You couldn’t help but feel warm as his eyes shamelessly drank in the sight of your body, eyes glued to the way your breasts bounced with each drop, the way his cock disappeared and reappeared between your thighs. He wasn’t used to being at someone’s mercy, but he rather enjoyed watching you have your fun. You continued to bounce, leaning forward a bit to dip your head down and lick up his stomach. A strangled noise slipped past Sanemi’s lips as your tongue ran up his abs and towards his chest. Nobody had ever done that to him before, the look alone was enough to make his head spin. You didn’t stop there, licking your way to his chest and gliding your tongue over one nipple. All the while, your hips were still moving up and down his length. You trailed your tongue over his nipple again, enjoying the way his grip on you tightened, a shaky breath escaping him. You wanted to hear more.

You looked up at him, your lashes making your view a little blurry. But it was still enough for you to enjoy the steadily growing flush on Sanemi’s face, the way it crept up to his ears and down to his chest, not quite reaching where your tongue was circling. You could feel his heart pounding under your hand, lips suctioning to his nipple and sucking gently. Another strangled noise escaped him, a mix between a moan and a whine, it only made him flush further. Still, you ached to hear more. Your hips had grown a bit restless, your mind focused on his chest more than the drive of your hips. You tried to recenter, hips moving rhythmically again as you bit down on his nipple. Sanemi cried out, eyes squeezing shut as pleasure mixed with embarrassment. You were going to drive him crazy, the feeling of your lips suctioned to his chest had his heart nearly vibrating with the intensity it was beating. You pulled your lips away, suppressing a moan as you settled fully on him again. “So…” your fingers trialed over his nipple, slick with your saliva, you felt the urge to bite him harder. “So…” Sanemi choked out, a bit dazed by your actions. “How am I doing so far?” At this point you were cockwarming him instead of riding him, just enough to edge him but not enough for him to come. 

“Really good…you’re doing really good…” he swallowed, hips becoming a bit restless as they jerked a little beneath you. Grinning, you leaned down again, teeth sinking into the flesh of his pectoral as your hips lifted nearly all the way before slamming down on him. Sanemi moaned again, the sensations turning his brain back into mush as you lapped at the teeth marks you left around his nipple. You repeated this process with the nipple you had neglected thus far, moaning softly as you rolled your hips. You were going to drive him insane, your version of teasing was far crueler than his. Yet he loved every minute of it, completely lost in the way you were edging him. When you were satisfied with your markings, you shifted your full attention back to riding him, pulling off all together despite his complaints as you repositioned yourself. “It’ll be worth it…” you crooned, ignoring the strain in your thighs as you planted your feet firmly on either side of his hips. The best part, Sanemi was completely pliant, letting you do as you pleased with a flushed face and lazy grin. But you could tell, he was waiting for you to go too far, tease him for too long, then he’d take over. You really wanted to see what his limits were, albeit you figured you would have plenty of time after tonight to figure that out. But, you had waited too long to not try and indulge in everything now. 

You sunk back down on him, watching Sanemi’s head fall back as you took half of him. Once again, you began to bounce until you found a good rhythm. Even though your thighs burned a bit with the effort, your new position allowed you much more control over your movements. “Fucking…shit…oh fuck~” You whined just as loud as Sanemi’s words, your whole body feeling warm as you rode him with more fervor. The slick sounds emitting from your needy cunt had you whining, eyes wanting to squeeze shut but unable to. You didn’t want to miss a single second of the way Sanemi’s face contorted in pleasure. He was way more sensitive, a third orgasm in such a short time frame may be pushing him beyond his limits but god dammit you were too perfect to stop. His eyes seemed to gloss over, hands pathetically grasping at your legs as his hips bucked up unceremoniously to meet yours. “T-tell me…” You gasped out, hands falling behind you to brace yourself on his knees. “Good! Fuck you’re so per-ah-perfect.” He was turning scarlet, embarrassed by the noises you were getting out of him. “G-good…such a good boy…” you crooned, body aching with effort as you continued to fuck your self on him. Sanemi’s mind seemed to blank the moment you uttered good boy. 

Any ounce of self restraint he had flew straight out the window. Sanemi’s hips jutted upwards, earning a yelp in response as you tried to regain your balance. It didn’t work though, you went from leaning backwards to falling against his chest within seconds. “S-sanemi…” you choked out as his arms wrapped around your waist, holding you in place as his feet found stable ground in the mattress below him. This new position left you completely at his mercy, his hips pistoning into you with new vigor. The noises you made nearly sounded animalistic, your skin recoiling with each upwards thrust of his hips. “Y-you…this was supposed to be…” you nearly wailed, your orgasm coming out of nowhere as you sprayed warm liquid all over his dick. It dripped slowly to the mattress below, effectively ruining his bedding. Not that Sanemi cared though, if anything it made him work harder. “Yeah… your turn… I’ll g-give you another chance some other time.” His jaw was clenched, your body was nearly limp against his as he continued to rut into you. It didn’t take that much longer, Sanemi thrusts grew erratic as he reached his third and final peak. He came inside again, no longer caring about the consequences when his bones felt like jelly. 

He fully relaxed a moment later, breathing heavy and unable to move. You couldn’t even find the strength to lift your head, listening intently to Sanemi’s heartbeat slowly return to normal. You stayed in that position for a while, shivering as his softened cock slipped out of you, the steady leak of his cum following it. “So…” Sanemi spoke softly, eyes feeling heavy. He couldn’t recall the last time he had felt this content. “So…” you repeated, carefully lifting your head. You had moved to get off of him, despite his protests. You settled next to him, your front pressed snuggly to his side, his arm wrapping around your shoulder to hold you close. “We need to clean up.” he muttered softly, not only did the two of you need to clean yourselves, you needed to change his bedding. “Yeah, we do, but I can’t really feel my legs right now.” You laughed, hand resting on his chest to trace the scars that were there. Sanemi snorted, his hand playing with your hair while his arm still rested on your shoulders. “We can worry about it in a little bit.” he teased softly, heart feeling as light as air with you next to him. “Did this… make-up for your shitty experience last night?” You chewed on your lower lip, now was a better time than any to reveal your secret. 

“Ugh don’t remind me.” he cringed a bit, thinking back on the entire thing. “Well… I do have something to confess…” you started lightly, only a little worried about how he’d react. Though, it seemed Sanemi was already a step ahead of you. “You were awake, weren’t you?” he didn’t sound mad, rather he sounded curious. “I was.” you sounded a bit sheepish, continuing carefully. “I heard the whole ordeal and… well… I heard you moan my name.” You squeezed your eyes shut, even though you didn’t think he would react poorly, you were still bracing yourself for anger. “You did, huh?” Sanemi is chuckling, his hand still playing with your hair. “Is that why you had the courage to make a move?” It seems he knew you better than you thought. “Yeah, actually. It was the only reason I felt confident enough going for you… I was so scared of ruining this.” Your confession had his cheeks turning pink, a gentle smile creeping up his features. “I guess I can’t be too mad, especially since it led you right into my arms…finally.” he added softly, he wasn’t used to all this mushy stuff but with you he couldn’t seem to help it. “So, you feel the same then?” you were positive you had feelings for him, but you worried it was too soon to go on and confess you loved him. Even though it was the honest truth. 

“If that feeling is love… then yes. It’s going to sound incredibly cliche, but I’ve been in love with you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Those feelings only intensified the more I got to know you.” You looked up at him, finding a bit more strength in your limbs as you moved to kiss his cheek. “I…I love you too. It’s super cliche but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, you’ve been a thought on my mind since we met up for the first time to see if we’d be a good fit to live together.” you confessed with a grin, eyes sparkling in the moonlight that filled his room. “So we've been dancing around each other since the end of August for no reason.” Sanemi laughed in disbelief, you joined him. “I guess so.” You laughed as well, thighs shifting and making you cringe a bit. “We really need to clean up…” you could feel the sticky remnants beginning to dry. “We do.” He sounded a bit sad as he let you go, allowing you to get up and off the bed. He followed you, holding back a laugh when he realized how fucked up his comforter got. “Go take a shower, I’ll take care of this.” You pouted a bit, face warm when you looked at the damage. “Will you join me after?” You truly had no energy for anything else, but the idea of showering alone just felt so lonely. Sanemi laughed, pulling you close to place a kiss on top of your head. “Yeah, I’ll join you.” he let you go a moment later, watching as you walked out of the door and headed for the bathroom. 

Now that he was alone, he couldn’t help the grin that stretched across his face. He was so happy he could start skipping, he had never been so happy to strip his bed. The comforter would need to be washed, so would his sheets, but luckily his mattress was unharmed. That being said, he wasn’t in any mood to go to the basement and do a load of laundry. “Her bed it is.” he muttered to himself, thankful that your bed was still clean and untouched. Laundry could wait for the morning, for now, you were waiting for him in the shower. You had only been standing under the warm water for a few minutes before Sanemi joined you. Neither of you had the energy to do anything other than bathe, though it was far more intimate than anything you had done that night. He was gentle with you, taking all the time he could to bathe your body. He even washed your hair for you, scrubbing your scalp with care. You returned the favor, enjoying every minute of washing his body, enjoying the way his muscles flexed. “You’re ticklish, aren't you.” he couldn’t deny it if he wanted to. You two stayed in the shower until the water began to turn cold. You stood in front of the mirror, towel wrapped around you as you began brushing your teeth, it was close to one in the morning at this point. Sanemi fell into rhythm beside you, brushing his teeth and while watching you in the mirror. You winked at him, putting your toothbrush away and laughing as he blushed. 

Sanemi had told you the plan before getting out of the shower, so you entered your room to find something to put on. Sanemi joined you again a few minutes later, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers. “I promise this is how I typically sleep.” He laughed when you eyed in with your eyebrow cocked. You had put on an oversized tshirt and panties, no bra or anything else. You settled into bed together, curling up beside Sanemi immediately. “There is one other thing we haven’t discussed.” You started softly, head resting on his chest as you closed your eyes. “Yeah? What is it?” His hand had returned to your hair, playing with slightly damp locks. “What are we? Now, I mean.” You were giving him the option, allowing him to choose whatever he felt most comfortable with. “Well, if you’d let me… I’d love for you to be my girlfriend.” You were thankful the room was dark and that your face was on his chest so he couldn’t see the way you smiled. “I would love nothing more than to call you my boyfriend.” You tried to sound calm but the giddiness in your tone gave it away. “Consider it done then, pretty girl.” You laughed now, arm slinging over his waist to hold him close. “Good night, lover boy.” Sanemi’s laughter rumbled in his chest, quietly he uttered “Good night, pretty”

*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*

A month and a half later, your shared apartment looked a bit different. You had sold your bed frame and mattress after a few weeks of sleeping only in Sanemi’s bed. You figured the items were just taking up space and there was probably some college student itching to get their hands on a good deal. Plus… who doesn’t like a little bit of pocket money. So you listed them as a set and it’s no shock that they sold within a day. Sanemi had been lovingly pestering you to turn the space into a gym/office. “There is no way we’re getting gym equipment all the way up here! There is a damn community gym on the ground floor.” Sanemi had only pouted, saying he didn’t want all the fancy stuff. Just some weights and maybe a pull up bar so he could work out while you studied. “You just want new ways to seduce me.” His laugh told you that you weren’t too far off with your statement. In the end, you gave in. Since you’d be living here the whole year, even during break, it was only right to make the place your own. 

This time, as a couple opposed to roommates. 

You ended up finishing your room makeover just in time for finals. The t wo of you spent the week leading up to your exams in that room, stud ying… for the most part. Regardless, the most dreaded time of year came and went and you both ended your semester with passed exams and passed classes. Now, you can enjoy your winter break in peace. “Are you sure they won’t be upset?” Your cheeks puffed out as you pulled the zipper closed on your suitcase. “Of course not, Ma will love having another mouth to feed. It’s her biggest form of love really. Plus my siblings have been dying to meet you.” Your heart fluttered a bit, you’d only talked to and seen Sanemi’s family through his own texts and pictures. You had gotten to know Genya a bit over the few times Sanemi facetimed him. As for the other siblings, you were still trying to get their names and faces down pat. You often found yourself silently repeating “Genya, Sumi, Hiroshi, Tekio, Koto, and Shuya.” his mother’s name was Shizu, which you had already committed to memory. 

“I really don’t want to be any trouble.” You added softly, still a bit worried about going to meet his family. Sanemi stopped looking through his things, looking up at you with a sad smile. “You won’t be any trouble at all, I mean it. My Ma even yelled at me over the phone! She said if I didn’t bring you home with me then she’ll never let me hear the end of it. She’s even more excited to meet you than my siblings are.” He crossed the room, wrapping you in a tight hug. “It seems like a lot of pressure…” he added softly, pressing his cheek to the top of your head. “But you have nothing to worry about, they’ll love you, just as much as I do.” You laughed a bit, mumbling out an “I love you too” against his chest. When you pulled away, he was a bit surprised to see tears in your eyes. “Hey…” he whispered softly, smiling as he used his thumb to wipe them away. “I promise you, they’ll love you.” His constant affirmations made your heart pound. “I trust you.” He kissed your forehead, letting you go just a bit reluctantly. “Do you have everything you need?” Luckily his family lived kinda close. It would only take three hours by train to get there. His mother would be waiting to pick the two of you up from the station.

“I do, do you?” you raised an eyebrow as he closed up the fairly empty suitcase. “Yeah, it’s my home we're going too.” he chuckled as he placed it on the floor “most of my stuff is still there.” You did the same, pulling up the handle so you could wheel it. “I guess that's true…” you were excited to see his family home, it would give you even more insight on the man you loved. You would be staying with them for two weeks and then returning. By then the holidays would be over and you’d get to start preparing for the spring semester. Then, you’d figure out if you’d renew the lease or look for somewhere else to stay. It seemed rather daunting but it was still months away, nothing to worry about now other than making a good impression. Sanemi lets you go ahead of him, flicking off the lights to your shared room before following you to the door. Your backpack was slung over one shoulder, your keys in the hand that was wheeling your suitcase behind you. “We’re still catching a taxi right?” Neither of you wanted to pay to keep your car at the train station for the next two weeks. “Yeah, I’ll pay for it.” He smiled when you scrunch your nose, you hated that he insisted on paying for everything himself.

Hell, he had even tried to pay the rent in full himself. By try, you mean he did. You nearly killed him when you found out he went ahead and paid for the next month in full. Regarding gifts, you had both decided to exchange them when you returned, it would just be easier than lugging them to and from. So, after Sanemi did one last check to make sure all lights were off, everything was unplugged and the stove wouldn’t mysteriously ignite on its own, you were stepping into the hall and locking the door. You still had roughly five hours before encountering the rest of the Shinazugawa family, but that didn’t ease the butterflies in your stomach as you pressed the button for the ground floor. “You already look as if you’ll faint.” Sanemi laughed, nudging you with his shoulder and watching you quickly catch your balance. You huffed out a laugh, rolling your eyes as you gripped the handle of your suitcase tightly. “You’d feel the same if we were going to meet my family. You’re just lucky they are a flight away.” Sanemi couldn’t deny it, the very thought made his stomach turn as the elevator doors opened. “Touché”. 

The next thing you knew, you were boarding the train. “I texted my Ma and told her we’re on our way.” He seemed giddy, the grin on his face was that of an excited little kid. You couldn’t help but smile as well, his excitement was contagious. “That's good!” you took the window seat, hand immediately reaching for Sanemi’s once he put your backpack in the overhead storage. Catching the train now meant you’d get to Sanemi’s hometown around ten in the morning. Then you could crash in his room after the breakfast Sanemi had assured you his mother would make. “She won’t be satisfied until we’ve gained a few pounds.” The thought warmed your heart, you just prayed you made a good impression on such a wonderful lady. There was one thing you weren’t aware of though, and it was the fact that Shizu practically knew you already. Simply because of how often Sanemi texted her gushing about you. Within three days of you two settling into your new relationship, he had excitedly texted her that he had a girlfriend. Shizu wasn’t all that shocked when he told her it was his roommate, she could tell from the first time he ever spoke about you that he liked you. His mother could read him better than anyone. 

This time, it was different than any of the girls he had ever brought home. Most of them only lasted a few weeks before breaking things off and moving on. When Shizu asked him why, he would say things just weren’t clicking. But with you? It was something else entirely. She still thinks back on the phone call she received from Sanemi, shortly after meeting with you about the roommate request. “I finally found a good place with good rent, just out of my budget but this girl was looking for a roommate. I met with her a little while ago and she’s super nice. She said she would gladly let me take the room because we clicked right away. Her name is y/n, Ma she's so pretty and kind. I mean I don’t want to get ahead of myself but wow…” Shizu had been smiling the whole time he spoke, congratulating him softly as he continued to go on about you. It wasn’t until the two of you made things official that Sanemi actually sent her a picture of the two of you. He had been dying too for months now but he didn’t want to cross your boundaries or make things weird. Shizu had to admit, you were prettier than she could have ever imagined. She had painted such a pretty picture of you in her head based on the way Sanemi spoke about you. But the picture he had sent had actually made her gasp.

It was candid, you must have been laughing at something he said but your eyes seemed to sparkle as you looked at him. Sanemi had already accumulated an entire album of candid shots of you, but you didn’t know that. “Earth to Sanemi?” you waved your hand in front of his face, laughing softly as he blinked back into reality. “Huh?” the train had already begun to move, the world flying past the window at rapid speeds. “You can lean on my shoulder if you’re that sleepy.” You laughed again, thumb brushing along his scarred knuckles. “No, no I’m fine. I was just thinking.” He confessed softly, cheeks turning a shade of pink as he looked at you. You noticed that look in his eyes, when his pupils seem to swallow the pale purple of his irises. “You’re daydreaming about me, huh?” you had a cheeky grin on your face as he groaned, he still couldn’t understand how you always caught him. “I was right, wasn't I?” you laughed softly, playing with his fingers as he nodded lamely. “You’re always on my mind, what can I say?” 

You look away, making a fake gagging noise, Sanemi’s laughter reaching your ears as you turn to look at him again. “You’re such a sap.” You laughed, settling your head against his shoulder. “It’s all your fault.” He muttered softly, embarrassed just a bit by how soft you turned him. When it came to you, he could melt into a pile of mush over something as simple as you laughing at what he said. “I guess you’re right, I can’t help the fact that I’m so loveable.” You yawn, eyes scanning the surroundings that fly past. You could feel Sanemi’s shoulder shake as he laughed, a smile tugging on your face. Silence fell over the two of you as the train barreled towards your destination, it took him a minute to realize you had fallen asleep. “I guess you were running off of nerves.” He laughs softly, opening his phone camera to snap a photo of your cheek squished into his shoulder. He saved it to his album, smiling as he scrolled through the photos before quickly closing it and putting in one ear bud. “Looks like I’ll have a lot of time to myself.” He had a funny feeling you wouldn’t be waking up any time soon. 

His assumption was correct, he was gently shaking you awake as the train approached the station. “We’re here.” He smiled down at you, at some point he had managed to shift your head from his shoulder down to his lap. You blinked awake, eyes scanning your surroundings as you tried to recall what was even going on. “You can sleep more once we get to my home, but for now, we’re about to stop.” Sanemi’s voice is soft, watching as realization dawns on your features and you go from lying down to sitting straight up in the blink of an eye. “W-we’re here?” You practically squeaked, the nervous butterflies turning into a frenzy as you realized within the next ten minutes you’d be meeting Sanemi’s mother. “Oh my god! Why did you let me fall asleep! I had no time to mentally prepare!” Your hands came up to hide your face, trying to collect yourself as you inhaled deeply. Sanemi just watched you with a smile, finding your nerves to be amusing. “You’re going to be perfectly fine, I swear.” The train finally stopped all together, jerking you slightly as the conductor came over the intercom to announce the stop and the doors opened at the end of each train car. “C’mon, just rip the bandaid.” 

“Easier said than done…” You stood up, immediately feeling weighed down by dread as Sanemi pulled your backpack from the overhead storage and gave it to you. “You’ll be fine, you’ll be laughing at yourself in less than fifteen minutes when you realize how much you overreacted.” You wanted to believe he was right, but naturally your nerves wouldn't settle until you had met his family and settled in for the two week stay. You reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly as he led you off the train with the rest of the passengers getting off at this stop. “Wait here and I’ll grab the suitcases.” You nodded, hand gripping the strap of your backpack as you tried to replicate the grounded comfort Sanemi’s hand offered you. Within two minutes he was strolling back to you, both suitcases wheeling behind him.”Here we are.” He gave the handle of yours to you, sighing softly as your hand reached for it shakily. “I’m gonna call my Ma real quick to let her know we’re here. I’m sure she is too but I don’t know where she could have parked.” You nodded, unable to formulate words as the dreaded anticipation built. It was no shock when you heard her pick up after one ring, her voice reaching your ears even over the bustling station. 

Sanemi clicked his phone off a moment later. “She’s waiting out front.” He smiled at you, shoving his phone in his pocket so he could hold your hand. “I’m not even going to ask if you’re ready cause I know you’ll say no.” He teased you softly, pulling you along as you followed behind him just a step. Your eyes scanned the station around you, noting how many people seemed to be swamped with holiday gifts they were bringing to family. The holidays were a dreaded time to travel, you typically tried to avoid it, but you could make an exception for this. Especially when you had a boyfriend like Sanemi with you. The cold air outside hit you like a freight train, your hand squeezing Sanemi a little tighter as the train station crowd didn’t seem to disperse after exiting the building. Sanemi stopped for a moment, eyes scanning the curb until he spotted a familiar SUV, a car he deemed way too big for his short mom. But with all of his siblings, a car that size was necessary.  “There she is.” He didn’t let go of your hand, rather he let his suitcase go for a moment so he could wave to her. That small detail made your heart flutter a bit, for a reason other than your panicked nerves. 

Your throat seemed to go dry as the car door opened and a small woman jumped out of the car. “Sanemi! Y/N!” she called with a bright smile as the two of you walked towards her. “Ma! How are you?” Sanemi smiled, you let go of his hand so he could hug his mom. “It’s lovely to finally meet you, Miss Shinazugawa.” You used both hands to clutch your suitcase now, waiting for her to let go of her son. “Please, call me Shizu, dear.” She beamed at you, leaving Sanemi to pull you into a tight hug. You jumped a bit but welcomed the embrace, motherly love was always comforting. “Oh, alright.” You smiled softly, your nerves melting just a bit as you hugged her back. “It’s freezing, let's get your stuff in the car and get you two home.” Shizu pulled away, hands coming up to hold your face with a gentle smile. Sanemi took the initiative, taking your things and putting them in the trunk, his mother opened the back door for you to get in before rounding the car and getting back in the driver seat. A moment later Sanemi was joining you in the back. “Away we go.” Shizu smiled, glancing at the two of you in the rear view mirror before pulling away from the curb and out to the street. 

“I must prepare you two now, the kids are ecstatic to see the two of you. So please, y/n-dear, don’t be afraid to say you’re overwhelmed.” She laughed softly, you nodded a bit as Sanemi’s hand found your own. “I’ll try and be your human shield.” He laughed, “I’m sure Genya will be one too, he’s good at picking up on emotions and such, he’s also great at handling the little gremlins.” It was comforting to know that they thought far ahead for you, making it apparent they wouldn’t take any offense if you truly got overwhelmed. “Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind but I’m sure I'll be okay. Thank you for welcoming me so kindly, Shizu.” Her name still felt a bit awkward on your tongue but you felt rude to call her by anything else. “Of course dear, I’m very happy to have you here. It’s not often at all that Sanemi even brings home friends, nevermind such a beautiful girl like you.” Sanemi made a strangled noise of embarrassment as you laughed. “I’m not surprised, he’s never brought any friends back to our apartment.” You teased him, watching as his mouth dropped “Hey! Neither do you.” You shrug “I guess you’re right.” 

Shizu was smiling, glancing back at the two of you in the mirror every so often. “So, what happened that the two of you finally realized your feelings for one another?” A question like that had you and Sanemi growing warm, glancing at each other quickly. “Oh, uhm… well…” Your face was burning by now, memories of that night flashing through your mind. “M-Ma a question like that is a bit much.” Sanemi didn’t sound upset, rather he sounded flustered. That gave away more than needed, making Shizu laugh in response. “Oh, I see.” her tone had your eyes squeezing shut, embarrassment forcing a laugh out of you. “I’m not one to judge, ya know. Regardless of how it happened… though I think I get what’s being implied, clearly your feelings for one another go a lot farther than physical.” Sanemi groaned out another “ma” before Shizu began to laugh. “You’re both adults, Sanemi, I’d be foolish to think you two haven’t gone a lot further.” This time you couldn’t help but look at Sanemi and laugh, his mother’s innocence and honesty was comforting. “Yeah, okay Ma we get it.” Sanemi’s ears were burning red, the smile on your face only making it worse because you clearly found this all to be amusing. 

The rest of the car ride continued with easy going banter, before you knew it Shizu was pulling into the driveway of the Shinazugawa family home. “Feeling better?” Sanemi whispered to you softly as his mom got out of the car to pop the trunk. “Yeah, but I’ll feel even better after we get this over with.” You chuckled nervously, seeing one of his siblings peek through the front window before disappearing again. Sanemi kissed your cheek before getting out of the car, you did the same, helping Shizu with your bags as you moved up the driveway. As expected, your introduction to his six little siblings was nothing short of a whirlwind. Though you couldn’t lie, you enjoyed getting to know them over the dinner the mother made. Genya had been the easiest to talk to due to his age, but before you knew it, the youngest of the Shinazugawa siblings was sleeping soundly with his head on your shoulder as you watched a movie with them all. Sanemi sat beside you on the couch, watching his siblings fondly as they talked to you rather than watch the movie. You answered each question with such patience, your hand open because Koto had fallen asleep holding it. Shizu had  joked that he was trying to steal his big brother’s girlfriend. 

It was just past midnight when Genya took Koto from you, the other siblings had gone up to bed a few minutes prior. “It was really nice meeting you, y/n.” Geyna smiled, cheeks rosy because he still got a bit nervous around girls according to Sanemi. “It was lovely meeting you too, Genya. I’m happy to spend the holidays with you all.” Genya turned bright red, earning a laugh from Sanemi as he bid the two of you goodnight and carried Koto to his room. “Well, it’s been an eventful day, do you wanna go to bed?” Sanemi smiled, his arm slinging over your shoulder now that Koto wasn’t hogging you. “I’m beyond tired, so yeah, sleep sounds amazing.” You laugh, snuggling closer to him. It was honestly the opposite of getting up, instead you both settled further into the couch with the tv droning on in front of you. It didn’t take long before your hands wandered, your legs moving to drape over Sanemi’s as he turned to kiss you. The arm he had slung over your shoulder moved to rest behind your head, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss. You allowed him, of course, feeling mildly inappropriate for doing such a thing on the couch in the living room of his family’s home. 

You pulled away the moment his hand gripped your thigh, chest heaving. “N-not here. What if one of your siblings or your mother walks down here?” Your voice is barely above a whisper, noticing the way the light from the tv still manages to reflect off of the ball of his piercing. “You’re right… but my bedroom wall is shared with another one of my siblings… this is really the only place we can be a bit loud…” he groans, getting off of you just a bit so he can look at you better. “I-I’d rather try and be quiet than get caught in the act.” You would be booking yourself a train ticket home if one of his little siblings saw you two being intimate. “Alright fine, but you better be quiet.” Sanemi smirks at you as he gets up, “oh that’s a bold statement coming from you.” You snorted, getting up and turning the TV off before following him upstairs to his room. You had seen it already since you took some time after dinner to unpack your clothes and put them in Sanemi’s dresser. There was nothing for you to investigate as you stepped inside, shutting and locking the door with a soft click as Sanemi flicked on his bedside lamp. “Genya usually sleeps with a noise machine, so as long as we put some background noise on too…” 

Sanemi was already pulling his shirt over his head as he spoke, watching as you sauntered to the dresser to find something to sleep in… or rather, you were looking for something to put on in the morning. “Background noise? Don’t tell me you’re going to put on music, that makes it all the more obvious.” You laugh softly, pulling your shirt over your head and shamelessly unclipping your bra, no need for extra distractions. “No, not music but…” Suddenly white noise was blasting through a small speaker and you found yourself bursting into a fit of laughter. “How sexy” you choked, dropping your pants and underwear at the same time. “Oh I know. My best work yet.” He was standing, making his way over to you as he pushed his sweats down. Your eyes flickered lower, smirking when you realized he was already hard. “You’re relentless.” you breathe out, his hands clinging to your waist as he presses you to the dresser, kissing you deeply. Sanemi smiles against your lips, stepping out of his pants and boxers that have pooled at his feet. “You know you love it.” Hoarse, just above a whisper despite the blaring white noise filling the room. You don’t bother answering, rather you push him gently so you can drop to your knees below him. 

Your hand gingerly grabs his base, pressing a gentle kiss to the tip as he braces himself on the dresser. “Fuck…” He chokes out, eyes flickering up to the mirror before him, mildly upset he can’t see past his waist. Just your head is visible as you begin to lick along his shaft. “Remember you have to keep quiet.” You shoot him a wink before enveloping the head of his cock, watching his head fall forward as he chokes on his own moans. You let your jaw go slack, taking half of him before pulling away, using the saliva that wet him as a lubricant. You pumped him steadily, running your tongue along his slit, collecting the salty precum that oozed from it. You had gotten to know him well enough over the last month and a half to know exactly what he enjoyed. Naturally that meant it didn’t take all that long before he was grabbing your hair a bit harshly and tugging you off of him, cheeks flushed red as he tried to calm down. “N-not yet.” he sighed, moving towards the bed and motioning for you to follow. “Sit down.” he commanded you gently, watching you crawl onto the bed and lay flat instead. He chuckled a bit before opening his bedside drawer. “I know we said we wouldn’t exchange any gifts until we got home, but I bought something with me…” You sat up now, eyes narrowing as he pulled out a small pouch. 

“What the fuck.” you laughed, catching the small velvet pouch and opening it carefully. Inside was a pill shaped tongue ring, immediately you understood. Your face grew warm, mouth hanging open slightly as you plucked it out. “No you fucking didn’t…” You took it out of the even smaller plastic bag and twisted it until it began to vibrate. “Sanemi oh my fucking–” You instantly turned it off, looking at him utterly flabbergasted. “Oh I fucking did.” He pulled it out of your hand, moving over to the dresser so he could use the mirror and take out his current tongue ring to replace it with the vibrating one. “You’re evil.” you groaned, body reacting tenfold to the idea of what was to come. He could only huff out a laugh as he stuck his tongue out, twisting the vibrating stud into place. “You’ll have to be very quiet.” He smirked, wiping the saliva off of his fingers. “You planned this…” You couldn’t believe it, not even as he crawled onto the mattress and pressed you backward until your head hit the pillows. “Oh of course I did, think of it as a reward for doing so well today, I’m proud of you, you know.” Your brows furrowed. “I appreciate it but this is such a strange time to get sentimental.” You watched his shoulders shake as he laughed, head burying in your neck to kiss it softly. He wouldn’t leave any hickeys in plain sight, at least not while you were staying here. 

“Can’t help it.” He muttered between each kiss he placed, not getting rougher until he hit your chest. Your hands immediately grabbed his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he bit down on your breast. You had come to learn that you enjoyed the pain it brought, along with the satisfaction of his teeth indents remaining for a couple days. He lapped at the skin he bit, kissing it gently as he moved to flick your nipple with his tongue. Part of you was tempted to say foreplay wasn’t needed, sucking him off as well as the revelation of his “present” were enough to have you dripping for him. “You know, we have to be careful because there is really no way to explain why we needed to immediately change your bedding after one night.” One hand moves up to thread itself through his hair while his tongue drags its way over to your other breast. Sanemi only hummed in agreement, debating whether or not he should turn the vibrating piercing on now while he teased you or let your anticipation build until the last second. In the end he decided to wait, you should get to experience it first hand where you wanted it most. 

When he was satisfied with the markings he left on your chest, Sanemi placed another kiss on your lips before moving down to settle himself between your legs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look down in fear of the noises you knew you’d make, so you kept your eyes trained on the ceiling, mentally preparing yourself for what was to come. Sanemi’s tongue lapped at your inner thighs, pleased to see your arousal had already managed to smear across them. “You’re so excited, how cute.” It was so soft you barely heard it, but you still felt the need to find grounding in the sheets below you. You gripped them tightly, bracing yourself for the “final blow” of sorts. He cleaned you gingerly before placing open mouth kisses over your folds, eyes trained on the rise and fall of your chest as his tongue just barely swept across your cunt. He repeated these motions a couple of times, until your thighs spread further in an attempt to give him more. “Okay, pretty girl…” He gave you a slight warning before sticking his tongue out, twisting one end of the pill shaped tongue ring until it began to vibrate. Your breathing hitched at the sound, just audible enough to be heard through the white noise you had going. 

Sanemi found the sensation to be a bit odd, his whole tongue felt like it was vibrating due to the small object. Though, it excited him at the same time, hands moving to hold your legs open as he carefully placed his mouth over your clit. His eyes remained locked on you as he pressed his tongue against your throbbing cunt. Your hand immediately smacked over your mouth as you gasped and moaned at the same time, the vibrations going straight through your body. When he didn’t move his tongue, you began to squirm, hand pressing tightly to your mouth as muffled moans and whimpers clawed their way out of you. Sanemi waited until he felt like you were about to come before pulling his tongue away and eagerly lapping at the rest of your cunt, purposely avoiding your clit until you were getting wetter with each pass of his tongue over your entrance. Your hand never let go of the sheets, nor did your other hand ever leave your mouth. Your thighs trembled at certain points with the effort of trying to close but Sanemi’s grip alone proved to be stronger than your trembling effort. It wasn’t until tears were leaking down your cheeks, your head tossed back as your moans grew louder even behind the muffling of your hand, that Sanemi gave in and paid more attention to your clit. 

“I-I’m gonna… f-fuck.” You repeated the last word over and over, the build up in your gut growing almost too intense to handle as he pressed the pill shaped piercing directly on your clit and kept it in place. The vibrations paired with the wet warmth of his mouth proved to be a lethal combination. You nearly reached for the pillow behind you to muffle the loud sobs that wracked your body as you came on his tongue. Sanemi didn’t move away immediately, holding it in place still as the overstimulation grew to be almost painful. You began to sob, begging him in a voice just above a whisper to ease up but he didn’t. Your legs trembled, unable to fight against him considering he was far more stable than you were right now. After an agonizing few seconds, the overstimulation turned to pleasure again, your cunt twitching violently as a second orgasm arrived from the shockwaves of your first. You swore louder than you should have, stars spotting your vision as you came hard for the second time. “S-Sanemi please I’m fucking serious y-you…” But you couldn’t finish the sentence, not when he started wiggling his tongue before moving it away to lap up all the juices you had spilled. 

The piercing was still vibrating as Sanemi’s tongue licked along your cunt, giving your clit a break as he teased you in other areas. You were breathing heavily as he used two fingers to spread you open, making it more accessible to push his tongue inside of you. While it couldn’t reach nearly as deep as his dick, the vibrations were making up for it. Your jaw immediately clenched, struggling desperately to keep the noises down as he began tongue fucking you. Your vision was growing blurry from the way your eyes began to water, Sanemi’s name leaving your lips in a quiet mantra as you forced yourself to remain quiet when you really wanted to scream. Yet the idea of being caught seemed to egg Sanemi on, his mouth was relentless as he ate you out like it was his last meal. As if he was trying to break you, make you scream and wake up the whole house. You began to squirm further as two fingers slipped in along with his tongue, the feeling itself was utterly indescribable. Calloused fingers ran along your heated walls, scissoring and pumping until they brought out wave after wave of your arousal with them. You had barely noticed the fact that Sanemis tongue had pulled away all together, watching in fascination as arousal pooled below you on his bedding. So much for keeping it clean… he found it satisfying. 

 The realization that his mouth wasn’t on you didn’t hit you until it had returned to your clit, your back arching off the mattress momentarily as he flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. His fingers pumped endlessly, his tongue working in rhythm until you were slapping both hands over your mouth in effort to keep quiet as you came for a third time. Your body had gone completely stiff, back arching and your head tossed back as warm liquid gushed from between your thighs, only encouraged by Sanemi’s fingers. This time, Sanemi pulled away all together to give you a minute to come down. His fingers fumbled for a moment as he tried to turn off the small vibrating piercing, admiring the mess you had made on his bed. By the time your vision had returned to normal, you were looking up at Sanemi with lidded eyes. “You’re so evil.” Your voice is hoarse, hands shaking a bit as you push yourself up to see the damage. “Fuck…” Sanemi didn’t seem bothered at all, rather he was leaning down to crash his lips against yours, forcing you to taste your own arousal on his tongue. You moved closer, immediately drawn back into whatever trance he always managed to pull you into. 

“How do you want me?” Sanemi sounded breathless as he pulled away, smiling down at you. “Like this please…” You turned away, positioning yourself shamelessly on your hands and knees for him. Sanemi groaned softly, he’d never get tired of seeing you like this, with nothing to hide or be ashamed of because it was just him. His hand immediately found his dick, pumping himself carefully to spread his precum, still a bit sensitive from the orgasm he had denied himself of early. His other hand came down to grip one side of your ass, kneading the flesh roughly. You whined loudly as the dull head of his cock pressed into you, your cunt welcoming him greedily with how wet he had made you. You chose this position strategically, pillows and his mattress were at your disposal to muffle your noises. Sanemi took his time, pushing inside of you inch by inch until your ass met his abdomen. It still took you a second to adjust, his head pressing tightly to your cervix, making you want to crawl forward a bit to relieve the pressure. Sanemi knew you well enough by now to hold your hip with his other hand, that way you couldn’t move. Sanemi is careful to not let his emotions get the better of him, you had done such a good job trying to remain quiet, now it was his turn to do the same. 

He leaned forward, placing open mouth kisses down your spine before straightening again, hips drawing back half way before sliding forward again. He started slow, finding his rhythm in slow and deep thrusts. Your body rocks forward with each movement, until your shaky arms give out beneath you and you fall into the mattress. The position is even better in Sanemi’s eyes, his hands immediately grabbing either side of your hips to angle himself better. The slow drag was intoxicating to you, your mouth parted as quiet whimpers slipped past your lips, drool seeping out of the corner of your mouth as all your energy was focused on keeping your lower half up. Sanemi’s teeth sunk into his lower lip, face dusted pink as his head fell forward to watch himself disappear and reappear inside of you. You could feel him twitching, nearly in time with the way your body involuntarily clenched around him. Your whimpers turned into moans, half muffled by the way your face was pressed into the mattress, arousal dripping down your thighs. Sanemi was groaning despite his efforts to remain quiet, hips speeding up as his pleasure pulsed through him. He wasn’t going to last long at all but he wasn’t all that bothered by it. 

“Sanemi…” You whined quietly, clit throbbing in need despite the stimulation you had been given. He caught on, hand snaking around your front and disappearing between your legs. You hissed as his fingers found your clit, rubbing it just as you had wanted him too but quickly reminded of how overstimulated you were. “Oh fuck…” You slurred, head burying in the mattress as you practically sobbed. Sanemi didn’t stop, biting down harder on his lower lip in effort to silence the noises he was making, but it was increasingly difficult with the noises emitting from you. The build up in your gut is becoming nearly unbearable, your hands clawing at the sheets as you cried out into the mattress below you. You came hard around him, walls stuttering around his length and interrupting his rhythm. Though it was the final push he needed, unable to contain himself as his hips drew half way out as he began to cum, shakily they pushed forward, bottoming out completely. His grip on your hips loosened, his muscles feeling like jelly as he moved to sit on his knees. You were pliant in his grasp, letting him guide you into a position that was comfortable for both of you until he felt like pulling out. 

“We… we got carried away.” his tone is soft, for the first time since he turned it on, he noticed the white noise he was playing. You pulled your face from the mattress, shakily wiping your mouth as you tried to turn to look at him. “You think?” your voice is shaky, all you wanted was sleep at this point but there was one issue. “The bed is a wreck.” He comments softly, finally realizing how damp the comforter was beneath his knees. “That’s your fault, I warned you.” You grimace, there was no way you were going to be able to sleep feeling as sticky as you did. “You got me there…” he laughs softly, slowly pulling out as he goes soft. “I take full responsibility for giving you a good time.” You roll your eyes, body aching as you roll over and move to sit up. “I’m going to shower, you figure out the bed… and no joining me this time.” It had become a habit at this point for Sanemi to take care of the ruined bedding and then join you in the shower after. “Why not?” he whined, a pout forced on his lips as you glared at him. “May I remind you we are at your family’s home? With your mother and siblings?” You hissed, trying to remain serious but failing miserably when his cheeks turned pink. “Did you really forget that fast?” 

“No! Shit okay maybe a little.” You roll your eyes, moving about the room to find something to cover yourself so you can walk down the hall to the bathroom. “Don’t forget to take out that piercing, it’s a bit obvious.” He laughs as you say that, watching as you throw his shirt over your head. “Yeah, yeah I know. I’ll take care of everything but if we aren’t sharing a shower, make sure you’re quick.” It was his last little dig to maybe convince you to let him join. Instead you just nod, uttering a quiet “You got it, captain.” before heading out the door. You make your way down the hall, wondering quietly how he would be able to get new bedding on the bed without raising suspicions from his mother in the morning.

Naturally, you figured it would be impossible and the small woman would tease you endlessly. The thought had heat rushing to your cheeks as you flicked the lights on and shut the door behind you. It took you a second but you managed to figure out the shower, setting it to a comfortable temperature before moving towards the bathroom closet. Sure enough, the closet was stocked with towels of various colors and some even had designs printed on them. That made you chuckle, especially when you noticed a few famous cartoon characters on some. How cute.  

You pulled a towel out of the closet and set it on the bathroom counter, carefully pulling Sanemi’s shirt over your head and dropping it in the hamper. You had to admit, showering alone was quite lonely but it cut your time in half. You managed to scrub your skin clean, wash your hair and condition within fifteen minutes. By the time you stepped out and wrapped the towel around your body, Sanemi was knocking at the door. “Shit I wasn’t fast enough.” His tone was a whisper, making you laugh softly as you pulled the bathroom door open. “Better luck next time.” You pat his shoulder as you walk past him, ignoring his little huff as you re-enter his bedroom.

The bed was made with a new comforter, tucked half way down so you could just slip into it. You placed your towel on the dresser, moving to put on a t-shirt and underwear before towel drying your hair the best you could. You were practically throwing yourself down onto the bed, laughing softly when you realized the white noise was still playing. You managed to stay awake until Sanemi returned, hair damp as he went through his dresser to put on a pair of boxers. You watched with half lidded eyes as he placed the novelty piercing back in the back and put his regular one back in. “Do you want to keep the white noise on?” He looked amused as you nod.

Sanemi turned off the lights before crawling into bed beside you, chuckling softly as he realized how small the bed was compared to the one in your shared apartment. Not that you really minded, immediately rolling over to wrap your arms around his midsection lazily. Your legs tangled together, his arm snaking under your head while the other found its home over your waist. “What did you end up doing with your bedding?” you question softly, sleep pulling at your mildly aching body. “I put it in the wash, which may just be more damning for us in the morning but hopefully my Ma is the only one to catch on.” He chuckles softly, as you groan.

“What a great first impression.” you snort into his chest, unable to stop your smile when you feel his chest rumble under your cheek. “Oh please, you can do no wrong in her eyes, she loves you.” You couldn’t deny that, after less than a day being in her presence, Shizu was already like a mom to you. “I suppose you’re right.” You hum lazily, eyes closing as sleep drags you further down. “Good night, pretty girl.” Sanemi whispered softly, feeling your body relaxing into him. “G’night, lover boy.” just barely audible, as if your mind was working on autopilot. Sanemi smiled, eyes shutting as well, enveloped in the warmth you and his childhood bedroom had to offer.

[louebel]

[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

"you too!!"

you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.

he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)

it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.

this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.

"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"

scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.

if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.

pat the boi.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!

"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."

robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.

it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.

you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.

she really did look cute while smiling.

"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."

she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

dies

you think he looks... cute?

his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.

"... really?"

"of course!"

he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you

when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.

so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.

"thank you."

you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.

"and... you too."

he really does love you.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

dies 2.0

"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"

never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.

he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.

if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)

he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!

it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.

he's so giddy and adorable.

"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."

𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃

mf's smile never dropped so fast.

"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"

was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...

"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."

staaaare...

"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."

but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.

yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)

plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.

he truly is grateful.

"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."

...

bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!

[onlinedolly]

SAVIOR COMPLEX

au where leon is a normal cop at raccoon city and you’re a pretty little thing he’s obsessed with ^___^

cw: stalking, kidnapping, drug use, dubcon, dry humping (?), hard language, dead dove do not eat, i think that’s it!

not proof read cuz i’m lazy lol

Leon, in his mind, was a good man.

He’d done a lot in his career, saved countless lives; so when he sees you he thinks it’s no different, not really. You were a young thing, pretty and too naive for your own good. Didn’t you know the world now? How cruel it could be? It made Leon sick to think about it, he’d only seen you once — pretty and smiling and all he could think was how the world was going to fuck you up eventually.

He began watching you then, like a good man does. Following you to your small apartment complex (on a side of town that put a sour taste in his mouth) every night, watching you from your window until you fell asleep, it was all precautionary really, he told himself. Had to make sure you were safe. That nothing bad would ever happen.

It’d been this way for a few weeks, maybe around a month or so until he witnessed the incident that really made his blood boil over. A man, taller and creepy, had been following you around the store for a while now, looking for his way in. Leon definitely couldn’t interject, not now, not when you didn’t know him, bound to just make the situation worse. So he watched, clenching the cart he had in his hand so tightly his knuckles turned white.

He almost interjected when he saw the man put his hand on your waist, watching as you cowered away as he grabbed something for you on a higher self. You poor, sweet thing, so naive and stupid. Leon decided then he had to do whatever it would take to help you. That’s what it was really, helping.

Leon was a good man.

-

It was harder than he originally thought taking you, you had a lively group of friends and supportive parents he would no doubt have to figure his way around. But, oh how the heavens must of listened to his prayers when he’d seen you (followed you for more than two hours) stumbling out of a bar drunk and alone.

It was divine timing really, Leon thought to himself. You were stumbling around to a back alley, fiddling with your phone in an attempt to order a ride share to pick you up, no doubt. How stupid were you really, Leon thought. Drunk and alone and ordering a car from a stranger to make sure you got home safe? You really truly knew no better, huh? What if you got hurt, kidnapped, assaulted?

Leon made it his mission all those weeks ago to protect you, help you at any cost, so when he sneaks up behind you placing the rag over your mouth until your body goes limp he’s simply doing it out of protection, out of love.

When he drags your limp body into his car, making sure no one saw, all he can think is how much better off you were in his arms. He was a cop after all, right?

Leon was a good man, he truly honestly believed that.

-

“You’re home now,” He’d explained when you came to in Leon’s apartment. You were scared, huddled in the corner of your pretty pink room ( which Leon had spent a lot of time on in decorating), and Leon really was trying his best to make you comfortable.

He sauntered over to you, and you couldn’t help but notice how he looked like he was a predator stalking his prey, leaning down and reaching his hand out to you in a kind gesture you hadn’t expected, “Let’s talk on the bed, why don’t we baby?” He spoke softly, kindly.

You were still frightened as hell, way too frightened to resist him, so with shaky fingers and sweaty palms you grasped his much bigger one and let him help you up. Leon moved you two to the bed, it was soft and had a pink floral bedspread, and sat closer to you than you wanted.

You had some strength, and you were confused and nervous, “Why?” stumbled out of your lips, hoarse and soft.

Leon nodded his head, “I knew you’d ask that, that’s okay—“ He leans up, brushes some hair off your forehead causing you to flinch, “— I wouldn’t expect you to understand at first, any how.” He spoke like he knew you, how long had he been watching you? Days? Months?

“I saved you.” He spoke matter of factly, it sent a chill down your spine. Saved you? From what?

“I-I don’t need saving,” You found courage to speak, still soft, still so hoarse, “I think you have the wrong p-person I-“

Leon’s jaw clinched as you cut yourself off. Of course you did, Leon’s not fucking stupid. Are you really so goddamn dumb to not realize how scary the world is? What it can do to sweet little things like you? But no, of course you didn’t know that, how could he expect you to? He pushed the rising anger down, Leon was a good man and really only got angry sometimes and he was going to control it if it meant making you like him. Getting you to love him.

“Pretty thing,” He spoke, moving closer to you so your knees knocked together, “I don’t expect you to understand.”

-

Despite everything, you just weren’t seeming to adjust to your new surroundings. Leon had saved you a little over a week ago, and despite trying to make you as comfortable as possible you still just seemed to want to leave.

After your first conversation Leon tried and tried to interact with you, form a relationship with you. He brought you three meals a day, each time watching you struggle to find a new way to escape. First it was the sealed window, the lock picking of the dead bolted doors, even trying to attack him like Leon can’t over power you in seconds. He couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t get you comfortable here.

Why couldn’t you see everything he was doing was for you? You can’t escape, not when the world is just going to eventually eat you up and leave you as broken as him. He was doing the right thing, keeping you here, why couldn’t you see that?

After another week of escape attempts and dry conversations over take out he had gotten you, you finally let up a bit. More open, more willing, the conversation was still dry but at least you weren’t trying to escape anymore.

“Sweet girl,” He spoke kindly,like he always did, as he entered with a tray of food. “I brought your food.” He entered the room, locking the various locks behind him as he sat on your bed. Leon had been nothing but kind in the past two weeks you’ve been here. It made you confused how someone who could so viciously take you was so kind hearted. You walked over to the bed, inspecting the food.

“You didn’t put anything in it, did you?” You asked, just like you always asked.

“Would that make you easier to manage, pretty thing?” He joked. It wasn’t funny, instead it made you feel sick how he could even joke about a topic like that. “No,” He reassured after seeing your fast twist up, “I didn’t put anything in it.” He leaned down, taking a bite of the food to show you it wasn’t contaminated, and only then did you feel safe enough to bring the fork to your lips.

Leon watched you eat for a few moments before speaking, “I was working today—“ He loved these stories, you thought, the ones that make the world seem bad. “— And we got a call. A guy shot his girlfriend. Can you believe that?” He moved to place his palm on your head, smiling at you bright and kind, “Thank god you’re here, right? Not with a sick bastard that could hurt you.”

You could almost laugh, did he not see who he was? A sick bastard in his own right, twisted and fucked up, just kind about it. You simply nodded, it was easier to give in, easier to please him. “Right.” You spoke softly.

-

It was another two weeks and you, embarrassingly so, had gotten more comfortable here. Sleep came more easy to you and Leon was slowly becoming a more comforting presence in your life.

He brought you food, just like always, telling you about his latest work story as you sipped your water. Unfortunately, the stories were starting to scare you, make your hair stand on end as he tells you about a man who murdered his family.

“Make sure to drink it all,” Leon dotes on you, tapping your glass with a big finger, “Need my pretty girl hydrated, hm?” You nod sweetly, just like you’ve been doing the past couple weeks and drink it all in three big gulps.

And okay, Leon was a good man!!! But he wasn’t always honest. He hadn’t been feeding you drugs, but that didn’t mean you weren’t taking them. He’d put them in your drink, mix them up until they were dissolved and make sure you drink it all. It wasn’t anything bad, what he gave you just made you a little sleepy and maybe a little more pliable to what he wanted from you. It didn’t hurt and he wouldn’t keep you out his stuff forever, just until you were ready to be weened off. When you were ready to love him back sober.

When your meal was done and he could tell you were feeling hazy, he leaned down like he always did and placed a soft kiss to your forehead mumbling what a good job you did for him. And you couldn’t help but admit how it made you feel, giddy and comforted.

Leon really wasn’t an awful guy, you caught yourself thinking as he exited the room. He fed you sufficiently, gave you the best clothes and softest towels to shower with, and he really wasn’t that terrible of company. Another 10 or so minutes passed and you were exhausted, falling into a slumber full of Leon.

-

You’d been here two months now, Leon kept you more drugged up than sober these days, but it made you so kind and needy. That’s right he said needy. A couple weeks ago your demeanor began to change, excitement filling you when he’d enter the room, telling him how much you’d missed him while away. He could get used to this.

He’d come to visit you before bed, you were in a pink pretty night gown with your hair in two messy braids when he’d came into the room.

“Leon,” You smiled softly at him, big doe eyes focused on the man by the door way.

“Hi sweetheart,” He spoke, locking the door and walking over to your bed to sit next to you, “Have a fun day, hm?” He pet your hair, giddy in the way that you lean into it.

“Had a good day, watched movies.” Ah yeah, Leon had gotten you a small box tv and some dvds from a resale shop, he was glad you were enjoying those.

“Good, good girl,” He spoke, not missing the way you purred hazily at the nickname, “Little girls deserve to have fun, yeah?”

You nodded at him happily, leaning more into his touch. You’d been such a good girl these past couple weeks, he pressed a kiss to your cheek and he felt how warm you got underneath his touch.

You were so affectionate tonight, would he test the waters more? See what else he could get away with?

“Baby, could we do something different tonight?”

“Different…how?” You spoke softly, flinching a little out of fear. Ah, he expected that to still be there. The thought of something new in this situation was bound to be scary.

“You’ll enjoy yourself angel,” He promised, pressing another sweet kiss to your cheek. He moved so he was laid on the bed next to you, sitting up with his head against the headboard. “Why don’t you give me a kiss first, hm?”

Leon had gotten you to kiss him a couple days prior, you’d been so nervous and fumbling when he’d held your head with his big hands explaining that he deserved a kiss for everything he’d done for you. He was too mean to be the one to kiss you first, waiting for you to stand on you tippy toes and place your lips against his. After a few minutes he’d grown impatient until you did just that, a small peck and turned into a heated session that had you panting into his mouth.

And now you loved kissing him, all hazy and dumb as you would beg him for goodbye kisses everytime he left you. So asking you for a kiss now was nothing out of the ordinary, and it wasnt out of the ordinary for you to climb into his lap and kiss him sloppily and sweet just like you were doing now.

And Leon *loved* it, the patience, the drugging, the kind sweet words was all worth it to lead to moments like this. With you licking at his bottom lip messily until he opened up to shove his tongue down your throat.

He was so happy it wasn’t some punk ass guy doing this to you, a man you didn’t deserve. It had to be him, he was everything you needed. He tested the waters, moving his hands to grip at your waist, he felt you jump beneath him, flinching at the new action. He pulled away smiling at you kindly,

“I told you something new, baby. You gotta trust me,” He gripped your hips tighter, feeling how you shook under him. It was exhilarating having you like this, inexperienced and scared under his touch.

“L-Leon,” You stuttered out, readjusting in his hold, making him groan out softly.

“Be patient, sweet thing.” He demanded, moving you around his lap, releasing another low groan from him.

You could feel something hard under you, hard and big. You gasp, trying to lift yourself off of him and he pushes you back down. “We’re gunna have s’much fun together, ain’t we sweet thing?” He slurred out until he found a good position for you to be in. Leaning his head against the headboard. “Gunna move your hips yeah? Be real weird at first, ‘kay baby? But I’ll make you feel real good sweet girl.” He spoke, leaning up to kiss the shell of your ear.

You’d gotten to the point where it was hard to refuse him, out of fear? Maybe. Or maybe it was something more. So you just nod eagerly, overwhelmed tears filling up your eyes as you wait for his instruction or his motion.

He begins rocking your hips against what you assume is his cock, you gasp softly, the feeling new and foreign to you.

Leon lets out a deep groan, he was loving this. He couldn’t believe he was here with you like this, rocking against his cock. He grips your hips harder, picking up the pace as your clothes cunt rubs against his cock. “God, aren’t you glad I took you, hm?” He’s rambling as you gasp and whine and cry under his hold, “If you’d done this with anyone else baby, I would’ve had to kill them, yeah? Aren’t you glad I rescued you.”

“Y-yeah,” You whine out, over come with this new feeling. The only things separating your cunt and his hard cock was your think panties and his rough pajama pants that rubbed deliciously against your pussy. You’re crying, overwhelmed by the feeling, lashes wet and tears dripping onto Leon’s cheeks (not that he gave a fuck), you move your hands up, shakily wiping the wet from his face as he moves you all at a fast pace.

“Enjoying yourself little girl? Yeah?”

“Uh-huh,” You hiccup, hazy and high, “T-thank you..” You whisper out.

“Dirty thing,” He groans out, moving you faster against his cock. He could only imagine what it’d be like to finally sink himself inside of you. He knows for a fact how wet you’d be, how he’d have to work you on his fingers before you take his big dick. The thought could make him cum in his pants.

“L-Leon I feel funny I…” You trail off, gripping his shirt in your smaller hands. He was so muscular it was almost breath taking.

“Yeah sweet girl I bet you do,” He laughed softly, trailing one of his hands down to press against your panty clad clit. You yelped softly, letting out multiple soft moans at the new sensation.

Your body was on fire, lit from the inside out as you gave up and indulged yourself in this new feeling. Your cunt was soaked leaving a dark stain on Leon’s pajamas as he roughly rocked you back and forth.

“God, fuck you’re such a good girl,” Leon grunts out, he was close, with the dry humping and the thoughts of fucking your sloppy cunt until you couldn’t think no more, he was ready to fucking explode. after a few more minutes he’s soaking himself, his pajamas a dark stained mess as he cums all over himself and your pretty panties. He makes a noise that’s almost like a growl as he grips your hip in a bruising hold.

You yelp out at the pain as he is circling your clit in a rough fast pace, you felt like you had to pee, the build up inside of you getting stronger and stronger as he mumbles sweet praises and tells you how he saved you over and over again, rubbing your clit in fast circles.

Finally the coil inside of you snaps as you yell out, a sobbing mess as you twitch and convulse and rut yourself against his big hand. Leon could cum again almost looking at you fuck your wet cunt against his hand.

You were overwhelmed but you couldn’t stop, you were shaking and sobbing at this point as you fuck yourself fast and hard against his hand.

“Baby let’s stop, yeah?” He spoke, pressing his hands on your tummy and back and slowing you to a stop, kissing you on your cheek as he stares at your blissed out face.

Leon Kennedy was a good man, Leon was your savior.

[dixonsstinkysock]

It’s Temporary

AN: This was going to be a random blurb but I’m too into this and he’s such a dork. Guys don’t tell anyone but I kinda wanna write smut, I’m not going to because I’m scared but y’know.

(Heavily inspired by a bot on C.AI, pretty sure the user is @/zetali_09 so if you see this i love you.)

Warnings: Swearing, mention of an apartment blowing up….suggestive???

Set during Season 1, before the timeskip…

The cold, Upper city, night air chilled you to the core. The dark streets only illuminated by the few street lights scattered here and there. You wrap your cloak around you a little tighter as you made your way to the meeting spot. Making a sharp turn down a dark alleyway, you narrowly miss a couple of enforcers doing their nightly rounds.

Leaning against the cool, damp, brick wall. Enjoying the noises of the city, letting time pass by as you wait for your companion. Around a half an hour later, you hear heavy footsteps and the soft click of the high-cost, well made shoes echoing throughout the alley. You recognized those steps, he saved up for a long time to purchase those shoes, no way could you forget them. You open your eyes, turning towards the culprit of the noise. “Took you long enough, thought I was gonna rot out here.” You smiled at the shadowed man, stepping into the moonlight.

“Sorry, had a few things to finish up with my work. Left later than I expected…”

You walk up to him, trapping him into one if your famous bear hugs. An unfamiliar scent wafts from him, its sweet…it’s expensive. Definitely not his signature cologne smell—no, something different. You both stay there for a moment, enjoying the new company. Everything seems to fade away when your with him, it’s like he’s the cure to your disease.

“Been a while since we last talked—“

“Yeah, I…” You pull back, looking Jayce in the eyes. “I’m sorry. There’s been alot going on.”

His hands come up to your face, gently caressing it. He’s always gentle with you, a contrast from the rough, dangerous streets you grew up in.

“Hey…What’s going on?” His voice is soft and smooth, with the occasional voice crack, it’s not fair. His looks already make him desirable, but hearing him talk to you with that tone? Drooling.

“It’s my siblings, they’ve been getting into more and more trouble.” You fully pull away from him, turning towards the lit up entrance of the alleyway. “It’s like Vi doesn’t even realize how bad things can really get.”

“Hey—“ He takes a step foward, gently grabbing your shoulders and turning you to him. “I’m here. I’m here to help—with anything. We’ll figure this out okay?”

A bittersweet smile graces your lips, you close your hand over his placed on your shoulder.

“You don’t know the Undercity, Jayce. I don’t think there’s anything you can do to help me on this one…”

The two of you stood there, unspeaking. You can practically hear the gears burning inside Jayce’s head. You can almost smell the smoke coming from them, It’s obvious he’s thinking of ways to try and help you and your family. After a moment, you rest your head onto his chest, defeated, and looking for comfort.

“I can’t let you risk you life for this. You have too much ahead of you.”

You feel his arms wrap around you, bringing you closer. He buries his face into your hair, breathing in your scent.

“There is nothing ahead of me without you.” You lock your arms around him, holding back a few tears. Jayce feels you taking fast, deep breaths, attempting to keep your composure. It’s all been alot, apparently your kid siblings were being nosy—blew up some guys apartment. Now every enforcer in Piltover is searching for them. You take a deep breath, leaning up straight to face him again.

“I won’t let you risk your life for me…risk your future—”

“I’m not some idiot throwing himself into danger for fun! I’m protecting someone I love.”

That. That catches you off guard. Yes, you two have been messing around every other night, cuddling after, speaking soft sweet words to each other…but love? He didn’t really love you did he? You’re from the Undercity. The scum of the scum. He’s from the top, he’s perfect. No way he actually means this…does he?

“I’m choosing to do this because I care about you, I care about your family. You aren’t alone in this, no matter how much you think you are.”

Time stops for what feels like hours, you gaze into his eyes, trying to find some kind of sign to tell you he isn’t being true. You can’t. His caramel eyes look gold from the street lights, determined and dead set on aiding you. You let your head fall onto his chest again, giving him your unspoken permission to help with your situation.

“I just realized I didn’t ask about how you’ve been.”

His arms tighten around your body, gently rocking you both back and forth. “Ha…” Jayce lets out a breathy chuckle, preparing himself to recount the most recent and life changing events. “It’s been different…Some guys blew up my apartment.”

You freeze. There’s no way they did that. It can’t be the same apartment right? How many apartments blow up in Piltover? Oh my god. My siblings blew up his fucking apartment. “Uh…” You can’t even form a sentence, still shocked at the new information. What are you going to tell him—

“Everything okay?”

“Yeah—are you okay? You’re fucking apartment blew up!” You pull back from him, facing him again. Your hands find their place on his waist, trying to ground yourself after what you were just told.

“My back’s still a little sore but I’m fine.”

“How much did you lose?” His mood darkened, eyes darting to the ground. “Alot.” You take a deep breath, This shouldn’t have happened. He is a good man, maybe a little crazy sometimes but—good. This whole thing is a mess. Jayce doesn’t know your sisters are the ones who blew up his apartment, you can’t go and get onto them for this because they don’t know you’re with him. You’re stuck, with no one to go to, maybe Vander but…he’d get upset that you’re up here with a topsider. Just so happens, he’s the same topsider your sisters were targeting.

This is fucking stupid.

After giving him your apologies, you realize it’s getting light. You should start heading back home, hopefully without Vander noticing you were gone.

“Jayce, It’s getting early. I gotta start heading back…”

“So soon..?” He smiles, he’s clearly up to something as he brings his hands up to your jaw. The sun is slowly rising, changing the sky into beautiful hues of orange and blue.

“Have to get back before Vander wakes up, I do not wanna hear that lecture.”

“Do you have to? Maybe you could…stay with me?”

“Stay…Topside. With you.”

“Yeah, I mean we could spend the day together. Go and do something…” He takes your hands into his own, engulfing them. You take a moment to think about his request. It’d be fun spending time with him, you’d be able to really enjoy his company. Not waiting for something or someone to come out of the shadows, trying to rob you or worse.

“Okay…What did you have in mind?” A smug look slowly plagues his face as he takes your hands into his, leading you out of the alley and in the direction of his temporary home.

“Trust me?”

You grip his hands tighter, letting him lure you into whatever devious plan he’s set up.

“Maybe…”

Two shadows danced against the stone road, slowly disappearing as the sun rose higher into the sky. One by one, doors open, carriages roll by, and the occasional stray kid runs in front of you two. None of that matters, not when his callused, warm hands are handling you so gently. When he looks at you like you’re his world…like he can’t live without you.

It definitely doesn’t matter when he pulls you into his hotel, hands roaming each others clothed figures as he closes the door behind you.

Guys…Part 2?? What y’all think 😈

[pucksandpower]

Man’s World

Charles Leclerc x Ferrari engineer!Reader

Summary: Charles refuses to just stand by and watch as you get disrespected

Warnings: misogyny and lewd comments

You’re admiring the sleek lines of the red Ferrari F8 Tributo in front of you, running your fingers lightly over the glossy paint. The showroom is quiet this early in the morning, just a few employees milling about getting ready for the day.

Charles had to stop by to sign some merchandise for a charity event and asked if you wanted to tag along. You opted to wait out front and enjoy the eye candy while he took care of business.

You circle around to the back of the car, appreciating the aggressive styling and massive rear diffuser. As an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari who often extends your expertise to working on their road cars, you know every detail of this machine intimately. Your hands itch to pop the hood and inspect that glorious twin-turbo V8, but you resist.

This isn’t your workshop back in Maranello.

Lost in thought, you don’t notice the group of guys entering the showroom until one whistles loudly. “Hey baby, those legs look good enough to wrap around me real tight,” one calls out.

You freeze, feeling your heart rate pick up.

“Don’t be shy, we just want to get to know you better,” another says as they swagger over.

You press back against the car, sizing up the situation. Four of them, all clearly well-off based on the expensive watches and designer clothes. But their eyes are cruel as they look you up and down.

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?” The apparent ringleader asks. “Hoping to sink your claws into some rich guy and take him for all he’s worth?” The others laugh nastily.

You lift your chin. “Actually, I happen to work for Ferrari.”

The man snorts in disbelief. “Yeah right, and I’m Michael Schumacher. There’s no way a woman knows anything about these cars other than where the passenger seat is.”

You clench your fists, biting back a scathing retort. The thought of educating these misogynistic jerks gives you immense satisfaction, but you know it won’t do any good. They’ll never change their prejudiced attitudes.

“Don’t listen to him, darling,” one says, giving you a lecherous look. “I’d be happy to take you for a ride, show you how a real man handles power between his legs.”

You’re about to tell him exactly where he can shove his stereotypes when a familiar voice interrupts sharply.

“That’s enough.”

You look over to see Charles striding angrily toward you, green eyes blazing. The men surrounding you look irritated at having their fun spoiled.

“Can we help you with something, pal?” The ringleader asks sarcastically.

Charles ignores him, coming to stand protectively beside you. “Are you okay, mon amour?” He asks under his breath.

You nod, relief washing over you now that he’s here. “I’m fine.”

Charles turns an icy stare on the men who’d been harassing you. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to my girlfriend that way,” he says coldly.

The leader looks Charles up and down dismissively. But then a spark of recognition crosses his face. “Wait a minute … you’re Charles Leclerc!” He elbows his friends. “The Formula 1 driver!”

The others’ eyes widen as they take in Charles with new understanding. “Whoa, seriously?” One exclaims.

The leader chuckles, clearly trying to recover his bravado. “Well, what do you know? The famous racer has a pretty girl on his arm.” His lips curl in a smirk. “Hate to break it to you, but it’s obvious she’s just using you for your money. No way she knows anything about these cars other than how much they cost.”

Charles crosses his arms. “As it so happens, my girlfriend is an engineer for Scuderia Ferrari, so I’d bet my entire net worth — and my car collection — that she knows more about the cars in this dealership than all four of you combined and then some.”

You have to bite your lip to hide a smile at the dumbfounded looks on the men’s faces.

“An engineer?” One sputters. “You can’t be serious.”

You level a challenging stare at them. “Deadly serious. I’ve personally worked on over a dozen projects for Ferrari, including the SF90 Stradale hypercar we just launched.” You point across the showroom. “There’s one right over there, in fact. Mid-front mounted 4.0L twin-turbo V8, delivering 769 brake horsepower combined with three electric motors. First plug-in hybrid Ferrari ever put into full production.” You smirk at the slack-jawed stares your technical rundown elicits. “So yes, I’d say I know a thing or two about these cars.”

Charles grins proudly and squeezes your hand. But the leader is not ready to back down just yet.

“Anyone can memorize a monologue,” he scoffs. “I don’t buy it. You’re clearly just clinging to this guy for his money.”

Fury rises in your chest. You open your mouth to retaliate, but Charles beats you to it.

“That’s my girlfriend you’re talking about,” he snaps, green eyes blazing. “I’d be very careful with what you say next.”

The man smirks, crossing his bulky arms over his chest. “Or what, tough guy?”

Charles takes a step forward, jaw clenched. The man towers over him but Charles doesn’t flinch.

Right as it looks like things might get physical, you quickly take Charles’s arm. “He’s not worth it,” you murmur.

Charles hesitates, nostrils flaring. After a tense moment, he relaxes his stance and turns his back on the leering man.

But it seems the group isn’t done provoking you yet. “That’s right, listen to your sugar baby,” one of them calls out. “Wouldn’t want you messing up that pretty face for the cameras.”

Charles whips back around, shaking with anger now. Heart pounding, you cling to his arm in an effort to hold him back. “Charles, please-”

“No, Y/N.” He shakes off your hand, stalking toward the men. “I won’t stand here and let them insult you.”

You watch helplessly as Charles gets right in the leader’s face, nearly nose to nose. “You need to apologize. Now,” he grits out.

The man narrows his eyes. “Apologize? For what? Stating the obvious?” He smirks coldly. “Face it, your little girlfriend is nothing but a gold diggin-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence. With lightning speed, Charles’ fist connects squarely with his jaw. The man stumbles back with a pained shout, hand flying to his face.

“Charles!” You hurry to his side, alarmed. Charles is breathing hard, staring down at the man doubled over and groaning. The man’s friends back away nervously.

Chest heaving, Charles turns to you. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t listen to him insult you for another second.”

You meet his fiery gaze steadily. “It’s okay, I understand. Thank you for defending me.” After a beat, you add wryly, “And remind me not to get on your bad side.”

That startles a small laugh from Charles. The tension in his shoulders eases. He takes your hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. “No chance of that, mon ange,” he murmurs. “You bring out the best in me.”

***

“Ow, ow, ow!” Charles hisses as he gingerly holds his right hand. His knuckles are bruised and bleeding.

You sigh, grabbing the first aid kit to tend to your dramatic boyfriend. “I told you not to punch him, Charles. You don’t know the first thing about throwing a proper punch.”

Charles pouts, wincing as you take his hand in yours to examine it. “I was just trying to defend your honor, mon amour. That man was saying such crude things about you.”

You shake your head, amused by his protectiveness. “My hero,” you tease. “Next time just walk away. I don’t need you breaking your hand over some entitled idiot’s comments.”

Charles hangs his head. “I know, I know. I wasn’t thinking clearly. I just saw red when he kept insulting you.”

You smile softly, touched by how much he cares. You start cleaning the wounds on his knuckles with a disinfectant wipe.

“Ow!” Charles cries out dramatically. “That stings!”

“Don’t be such a baby,” you chide. “It’s just a little antiseptic. I have to clean it so it doesn’t get infected.”

Charles pouts some more but stays still as you finish cleaning the abrasions. You apply an antibiotic ointment carefully before beginning to wrap his hand with a bandage.

“I really messed up my hand, didn’t I?” Charles mumbles dejectedly.

You nod. “You definitely did some damage. Nothing serious, but you’ll be sore for a while.”

Once you’ve wrapped his hand securely, you bring it to your lips and place a gentle kiss on the bandage. “There. All better.”

Charles gives you a lopsided smile. “My own personal nurse. How did I get so lucky?”

You grab an ice pack from the freezer and hand it to him. “Here, put this on your hand to help with the swelling and pain.”

Charles sighs dramatically but does as instructed, holding the ice pack gingerly against his injured hand.

You glance at his wrapped hand, the knuckles already starting to bruise beneath the bandage. “Does it hurt terribly?”

Charles considers the question. “Honestly? Yes, it really does. Punching someone is not as easy as it looks in the movies.”

You laugh. “No kidding. That’s why you leave the punching to trained fighters, not Formula 1 drivers.”

“Ugh, this is so embarrassing,” Charles mutters. “What will the team say when they find out I injured myself in a fight? And I’ll never hear the end of it from Pierre.”

You pat his leg reassuringly. “Just say you hurt it working out. No one has to know about your misguided attempt at honorable combat,” you tease.

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Good idea. The last thing I need is for this to become paddock gossip.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few moments, Charles icing his hand while you snuggle contentedly against him.

"Thank you for patching me up and taking such good care of me,” Charles gently brushes the hair from your face with his uninjured hand. “Even when I do stupid things."

You grin. “It’s a tough job but someone’s gotta do it. Especially since you did almost break your hand for me.”

You settle back against Charles comfortably. He may be reckless and impulsive at times, but you know he always has the best intentions at heart. And you'll always be there to care for him if those good intentions backfire.

For better or worse, this protective man is the love of your life.

[kaleidoscopewritings19]

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Title: Ruin Me

Warning(s): language and SMUT! MDNI!!! If you are under the age of 18, you should not be here on this particular reader. I have warned you, and therefore am not responsible for what you’re about to read. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Prompt Credit are in bold and go to: @ rent-white, @ dumplingsjinson

—————

Slowly, you opened the door to your assigned house in Jackson, Wyoming. The freezing air made you shiver, and you kicked the snow off your boots.

You pulled your coat off and hung it on the hooks hanging by the door. You had made your home as cozy as possible with decorations you would find when out searching for supplies. Any time you walked into your home, you felt at ease and at peace. Another pair of boots on the floor caught your attention when you were taking off your own. “Joel?” You called out, and a creak on the floor board made you whip your head around.

The familiar pair of eyes made you breathe out a breath of relief, “You knew those were my boots, and yet you were nervous.” He said and you looked down at your feet.

“The last time I trusted a pair of familiar boots, I was kidnapped.” You said and Joel took a step closer to you. A while back you were taken by raiders; you never talked about it, and Joel understood that- he could only imagine what happened to you. “I would never let that happen. Not now, not ever.” He said as he pulled you into his body.

You were twenty years younger than him- gentle and fragile. The both of you had gone through the most fucked up things before finding solace in Jackson. When Joel had met you, he knew he had to protect you at all costs. Despite the hellish things you had been through, you were still kind.

You were far different from Tess and the women he had met along the way. It was a warmth Joel hadn’t felt since before the outbreak, and he was drawn to you. He didn’t trust anyone (other than Ellie and his brother), but he trusted you.

You were told of Joel’s past; he had murdered, he tortured people for information, and often times he would torture people to death. But just as he was drawn to you, you were drawn to him. He seen the ugly of the world, but you only found the good and the beauty in this world. Joel found it fascinating and you were addictive.

This little arrangement happened a year ago- the two of you would fuck each other to release built up emotions and stress, and that was it. But one of you was bound to get burned, and it just so happened to be you. You had fallen hopelessly in love with the ruthless and complicated man.

“What’s going on in the pretty little head of yours?” He asked, tearing you from your thoughts.

“Nothing.” You lied.

Joel pressed a kiss to your forehead- he was different around you. The man that was deemed as lethal, was gentle when it came to you. He was always the one to initiate things, but this time, you decided to be brave. You grabbed Joel’s hand and led him to your couch; he had lit the fire prior to even coming home, but you were glad he did.

Warmth filled the room, as you straddled Joel’s lap. Your legs were on the side of his, and he stared at you a gleam in his eye. His hands wrapped around your waist, and your shaky hands rested against the scruff on his face. No words were ever used when things would get sexual, both of you had agreed less talking was better, because this was nothing.

His dark eyes stared up into yours- he knew you wanted to take control, and little did you know this is something he had dreamed of. You had needs too, and he wanted you take advantage of him and these needs, but you were always too shy.

Joel did not want to rush you. Slowly, your face inched closer to his, and your lips brushed against his. His breath tickled your lips, and there was no time to be shy, so you pressed a kiss to Joel’s lips.

A few months back, the two of you agreed to allow kissing in these moments, but they were never filled with passion. They were just necessary to make things more steamy and to get things moving along. You pulled away from his face to see his expression.

He gave you a small smile, trying to encourage you to keep going- the waters were fine and did not need to be tested. You deepened the kiss and slid your tongue between his lips, and he pulled you closer to him.

Joel hummed in response to you, and he leaned his head against the back of the couch. His lips were puffy and a lazy smile made its way across his face, “Kiss me like that again and I’m gonna think you’re in love with me.” He said breathlessly, and you froze above him.

Joel noticed the look on your face and he sat up straighter, and before you could stop yourself, the words left your lips, “But what if I am in love with you, Joel?”

His breath hitched in his chest, and he (gently) pushed you to the side of him. “I’m gonna need you to stop right there. Don’t you dare bullshit me with that.” He gruffed, and he pulled on his boots.

He did not even bother to tie them, instead he turned to you. His finger pointed at you, “We promised each other that this wouldn’t happen.” His Texas accent was thick; it always was when he was angry, and man, he was angry.

You stood up from the couch and stood toe to toe with Joel. Being quiet and letting things slide, that was expected of you, but you couldn’t remain quiet anymore. “Yeah, Joel, we did. But it happened. What do you want me to do about it?” You asked as you looked in eyes for an answer, and when you didn’t find one, your hands rested on your head. “I can’t un-love you, Joel.”

Joel twinged at the word love, and he looked down at his feet. “You need to stop.” He said as he walked to the door, but you blocked him. You stood at the door with your head held high, “Y/N, move.” Joel stated and you shook your head.

“No.” You responded and Joel’s jaw tightened. “Move. Now.” He said again, and you folded your arms against your chest. “What’s stopping us from becoming more than this?” You demanded and Joel stepped forward.

He kept stepping towards you, until your back was pressed firmly against the front door. You held your ground, you stared up at him and he looked down at you. His face was emotionless- it was like chiseled stone, and with a monotonous voice, he responded to your question.

“You don’t want to love someone like me, Y/N.” Joel’s hands went to the side of your head, resting on the hard wood. He barred you in and he looked into your eyes, “You have no idea who you’re falling in love with.” He said, and his big, strong arms were making you weak in the knees. You gulped as his face was inches away from yours, “I have murdered people without a second thought, especially if it meant survivin’, and protecting Ellie.”

His eyes darkened, “I’m a dangerous man, Y/N. I’m not capable of love.” He said and you shivered underneath his gaze. But you remained steadfast, “I don’t care about that, Joel.” You said.

“You should.”

“You are capable of love.”

“How?”

His responses were quick, but yours were faster. “The way you protect Ellie. She’s no longer cargo. I know what you did to those fireflies when you knew what they were going to do to her.” You said and Joel pulled back from you. “How do you know about that?” He questioned.

You stared into his eyes, and you brought your hand to his cheek. “Because you talk in your sleep when you are able to sleep, Joel.” You said and he took a step back from you.

Joel turned around and he was looking at the ground, “You stay up and watch while I sleep. You protect me, Joel. You’re gentle with me, and I am fully aware of what you’re capable of.”

He remained silent and you remained against the front door. “You care about me, Joel. I think you feel what I feel too and it scares you. You are capable of love, otherwise you wouldn’t protect me and shield me the way you do.”

Joel turned back around and he hovered over you, “I am afraid to hurt you. Do you not understand that? I have this darkness that surrounds me. You’re like sunlight to me- somethin’ I have never experienced. I- I don’t want to… I’ll poison your light. I will ruin you.” He whispered and you looked into his pain filled eyes.

You moved out of his way and he opened the front door; tears stung your eyes, and you gulped back a sob, “Then ruin me, Joel. Because I can’t keep doing-”

The front door slammed and in one swift step, his hands were on your face, and his lips smashed into yours. Your hands gripped his strong arms, trying to steady yourself. His calloused hands held your face- making it impossible to pull away from him, and you didn’t want to pull away.

His kisses made you feel weak and dizzy; he knew that when your body swayed. He lifted you up off the ground and took you to the couch and laid you down.

Joel’s body hovered over yours, and his hand traced down from your neck all the way down to your waist. “Every time I touch you, it’s like I can feel ya unravelin’ under my hands.” He whispered before pressing another kiss to your lips, earning a moan from your lips.

You couldn’t wait any longer, you sat up and wrapped your arms around Joel’s neck, your legs wrapped around his waist, and you used all of your strength to flip him over. Now you were on top, and Joel was in shock.

His arms were resting well above his head, and he had a smirk on his face. He sat up and pressed a kiss to your lips, and you helped him shimmy out of his flannel. All that was left in your way, was his white t-shirt, and his jeans.

Joel removed his t-shirt, and then reached over and ripped open your button up blouse. Buttons hit the floor, and you began to work on his belt; Joel was letting you take full control.

He wanted to see this part of you, and when you got his pants off, he sat on the edge of the couch, and removed the jeans that clung to your legs.

As he pulled them down, he began pressing kisses from your navel, to where you wanted- needed him, and then pressed kisses all the way down your legs.

Instead of letting him do what he wanted to do, you pulled him up and pushed him back on the couch.

His back was resting in the cushions, and you pulled down his underwear. Joel’s eyes darkened as he watched you straddle him; your panties were black and lacy- he didn’t know how you got your hands on a pair like these. But he was glad you had them. He could feel how wet you were, and he wanted nothing more than to pin you down and fuck you. Hard.

You rubbed yourself against his length and he groaned into your shoulder, gently biting down on your warm skin. Joel couldn’t help himself; his finger traced down from your arm to your laced panties, and he hooked his finger underneath the thing fabric.

His finger slid between your wet folds, and he pushed the lace to the side. You were entranced by Joel- the way his rough finger felt between your legs ; it made you want to unravel right then and there.

Instead, you led his thick cock to your entrance, and slowly slid down until he was fully inside you. A moan left your lips, and Joel ripped off your bra, leaving you completely exposed underneath his gaze.

You were already cock drunk on Joel- he had this effect on you no other man has or could ever have on you. The hunger for Joel was insatiable, after he fucked you once, there was no turning back.

He thrusted his hips up into you, clearly impatient for you to come to your senses. His thrusts were slow and even, then you remembered, gentle. Kind. Fragile. That’s how Joel viewed you, and these slow movements were not longer feeding the need of him. You pressed a kiss to his lips, and leaned in towards his ear, and whispered, “Ruin me, Joel.”

When you pulled back to look at his face, he held your cheek. “Are you sure? Do you even know what you’re asking for?” He questioned. All you could do was nod as he continued to thrust up into you. His hand went to your hair, and gently pulled it back, “I need to hear you say it, baby.” This time you were moving yourself up and down his cock, “Joel, I want you to fuck me. I’m tired of you treating me like I’m going to break.”

This was all the confirmation he needed. Joel flipped you over and now you were laying on your back, staring up at him. He shoved himself back inside you, the sensation overwhelming your senses.

The sight of you made Joel thrust even harder. You fit so perfectly around him; your walls clenched around him. He leaned down to press a kiss to your lips, and you took this opportunity to wrap your legs around his waist.

Skin against skin, his hand hovered over your throat, and his thumb gently pressing into it. His hips snapped into you, and finally you started matching his thrusts. Joel was no longer holding back with you; his thrusts were rough and sloppy- not his usual slow and rhythmic thrusts.

His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan at how sensitive you were becoming. A new feeling had taken over your body; Joel felt you were coming to the edge of breaking. His fingers went down between your legs and began rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves.

“Joel…. Joel…. Joel!” You were chanting his name like it was going to be the last time you were going to say it.

“I’m about come, baby girl.” He whispered gruffly in your ear. His thrusts became quicker and messier, the sounds coming from the living room were erotic. You silently prayed no one could hear the sounds your bodies were making, but then again, you didn’t care.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful— finishing all over my cock” he said as he pressed a kiss to your neck. “Wantin’ me to ruin you… You belong to me now.” Slowly he pulled his cock out of you and slammed back into you. “I want everyone to know who you belong to, Y/N.”

Small, love-bite bruises were forming all over your neck and collar bone, and with one finally moan of his name, “Joel!” You came undone on his cock.

Joel continued to thrust into you until he finished deep inside you. It took everything in him to pull out of you; your bare chest heaved trying to catch your breath.

He reached for the quilt on the back of the couch, and pulled it down to cover you both. You moved over to give him space, and then you rested your head on his chest.

Joel’s fingers ran through your hair and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple. “I do care about you, Y/N. It’s hard for me to let my guard down, ‘cause when I do, it never lasts.” He said and your finger gently traced his lips.

“I’m not going anywhere, Joel. I promise.” You whispered and his lips locked onto yours. It wasn’t too long before he had you pinned down on the floor, and made love to you like it was going to be the last time he could love you.

————-

I hope you guys enjoyed that… I’m not the best at writing smut, but I am working on it. 🩶 kinda scared to post but oh well.