#rain too loud to sleep so i did this

[iviedraws]

no one's around to help

[dollgxtz]

Sleepy Crow

Word Count: 1.8k words

Tags: sylus x fem!reader, somno, noncon, mentions of breeding, pet names such as kitten, sweetie, darling, reader is somewhat drugged but its her sleep meds!

AN: Hi all! This isn't my first time writing fanfics but I noticed a lack of Sylus fics with a darker undertone ( ๑‾̀◡‾́)σ". PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE read the tags and if this isn't something that interests you or is potentially triggering, please do not interact! I get this isn't everyone's cup of tea but this is a fic for people who like darker romance stuff!! Please enjoy, and I AM taking requests as I really want to get back into writing again. Do not hold back, this is a safe place! Ty!! <333

Sylus trudged through the pouring rain, his jacket soaked through and his hair matted against his forehead. The drops were heavy and unrelenting, pelting against the pavement and creating small rivers that flowed along the gutters. The barely lit streetlights of the N109 zone cast an eerie glow on the slick surfaces, reflecting off the wet asphalt like a distorted mirror.

As the man approached his mansion, he couldn't help but feel relieved. The warm glow of the lights shining through the windows beckoned him home. He fumbled with the keypad to the door, his fingers slightly numb from the cold, before finally hearing the click that beckoned his entrance.

The sound of raindrops hitting the roof and windows followed him, a steady drumming that seemed to fill every corner of the place. He took off his sodden jacket and hung it up, feeling the weight of it pulling him down. He walked through the dimly lit hallway, his footsteps echoing softly on the marble floors, trying his hardest to be quiet. Mephisto was perched on his cage (not that he was ever really in it, it was more for decor) tilting his head when he saw Sylus brush past him but not making any sound himself.

He made his way to the bedroom chambers, deciding to make sure you were where you belonged. Peeking his head in the bedroom doorway, he saw your sleeping figure, chest rising ever so slightly with each breath. He smirked, closing the door behind him as he entered. He was happy you finally seemed to be getting some rest.

Your insomnia had been getting worse, and he'd been getting worried when he saw you were often messaging him at 4 am, sometimes as late as 8 am with no sleep. Of course he’d offer to have you over, to hold you and whisper sweet things in your ear until you succumbed to sleep, but he couldn’t always. Sometimes business was needed to be handled, and for those nights he had gotten you the best sleep medication that money could buy. You had been weary about taking them at first, but he had assured you that the side effects were basically none. He had made sure of it.

Sylus made his way to the bathroom, proceeding to rid himself of the damp clothes clinging to his skin. A quick shower and then he could finally curl up next to his little crow. Not that he would be sleeping yet, but it was nice to watch you dream. Sometimes you’d whine or make little noises, which he found absolutely adorable. He wondered what you dreamt about sometimes, but you had refused to answer much to his annoyance.

The hot water felt amazing after being gone practically all night. He washed all the blood and dirt from his skin, examining all of his various injuries. He had a run in with a few “pests” that he quickly exterminated, but they had managed to get a few nicks on him. He touched his arm where the biggest cut was, his Evol immediately snaking around it and healing it faster than he could blink. He did the same for the others, feeling brand new once more.

Some time passed before he finally turned the water off, dried himself, and slipped into a pair of boxers. He slowly made his way into the bedroom, hoping that he wasn't being too loud but you were out like a light. Sleeping like a rock.

Sylus slipped in bed next to you, sighing with pleasure as the soft mattress sunk beneath his weight. It felt heavenly. He turned to put his arm around you, trying to get as comfortable as possible so he could hold you. He softly kissed the corner of your ear, his head starting to swim with thoughts. Surprisingly, he felt comfortable enough to possibly fall asleep with you.

But he couldn't.

He had been laying in bed for thirty minutes just thinking. He thought about all the business arrangements he needed to finish. Tonight had been…messy. No doubt he had made some new enemies. How impatient he was getting about the new weaponry he had bought from Spain. They should be arriving soon, but it had been taking forever.

How he wanted to feel your tight cunt pulsing around his fingers.

Sylus stiffened, attempting to rid his head of these thoughts about you. His efforts were in vain though, as he was already rocking a semi hard on that was steadily growing into a full erection.

Obviously there was nothing he could do about it. You were sleeping after all. And not only that, it's not like he could wake you to do anything anyways. He hates quickies, they bored him. He likes to take his time. To take in your reactions, your faces, and your noises. Besides that, you were taking a pretty high dose of your sleeping meds and he kinda doubted he could wake you even if he really tried.

This thought stirred in his head for a bit.

Yeah...you wouldn't wake even if he tried. He sighed with a twinge of pleasure as he pressed his erection against the soft cotton of your underwear. The pressure felt immaculate, and if he hadn't been gone all night he probably could've finished just by pressing himself against you. You were the only girl ever that could make him finish that quickly.

But it wasn't enough. He needed more. It had been a bit since he touched you like this.

You moved a bit in your sleep, letting out a small whine. He leaned over you to get a better look at your face. Still sleeping, mouth open slightly ajar. You were so fucking pretty when you slept.

“Such a sleepy kitten” he growled lowly, snaking his fingers underneath the hem of your underwear. He didn’t know why, but the mere sight of your sleeping face was getting him worked up. You looked so docile, so vulnerable. He wanted you. Sylus began to tug them down slowly.

This was very wrong. He knew this and yet he couldn't stop. He kept going, making empty promises to himself that he would only take a peek. He just wanted to see you. All of you.

Sylus froze has he finally pulled your underwear down to your legs, practically breathless at the site of your cunt at his fingertips.

"Fuck..." he groaned, unable to stop himself from pressing a finger between your folds. He watched you carefully for any signs of discomfort or movement, but you were still fast asleep as he pushed his finger in. You were warm, inviting even. It's like your pussy was sucking his finger in, deeper and deeper. He slid a second finger in, picking up the pace. Soon enough, your cunt was slightly wet, spots of your slick forming on the backs of your legs near your pussy. Pulling out, he practically shivered with excitement.

Sylus was quick to put his fingers in his mouth, savoring every drop of you. You tasted so sweet to him, the best flavor he ever had the honor to try. He wanted nothing more than to dive head first into the source and lap it up. But his erection was so starting to bother him. It was rock hard, and throbbing ever so slightly, begging to be freed.

He had to have you. And he had to have you now.

He pulled his erection through the hole in his boxers, beginning to stroke himself with an intense grip. Groaning as quietly as he could, he stared at your wet and welcoming cunt. He swore it was just begging to be filled by every inch of his cock. Still wanting him, even when you were asleep.

"You’re so pretty sweetie" he whispered in your ear, closing his eyes as electrifying pulses of pleasure crashed through him. Sylus told himself he should stop now, but it was past that point. He knew himself better than that. His mind was already made up, no matter how much he was trying to talk himself out of it.

Turning you a bit more on your side, he readied the fat head of his tip to your entrance. You stirred once again, mumbling incoherent nothings before becoming silent again. Sylus chuckled softly, pressing his lips to the tip of your ear as he stroked himself a few more times.

As he sinks his tip into your tight entrance, his precum smears all over your hole. He shudders with intensity, trying his best to hold back a groan, worried that making too much noise next to your ear would wake you. He pushes further and further until he can't possibly sink himself into you anymore. You squirm, letting out another whine, this one a bit louder than the last.

"Im sorry kitten…" Sylus coos, laying his head behind yours as he fucks you with a slow, rhythmic pace. "Just need to cum in what’s mine. Be a good girl and stay asleep for me”.

He rests one of his hands on your hip, trying to keep from shaking you too much as he continually plunges himself inside you. You were warm, your gummy walls constantly tightening around him. He moans your name over and over like a prayer, feeling lost in your walls. The soft clap of his skin meeting your ass echoes a bit in the room.

"You're fucking made for me. Look at you sweetie, tightening around me, trying to squeeze me dry even when you're sleeping" he whispers, feeling himself getting closer and closer to bliss.

His thrusts became sloppy and he had to slow himself, trying to savor every moment he had inside of what essentially felt like heaven. He had been wanting to fill you for days. Images of his seed erupting onto the walls of your fertile pussy, eventually giving you a nice, round tummy that would grow his baby filled his head and he couldn't stop himself from finishing anymore.

As his hot ropes of sticky cum shoot against the walls of your womb, he accidently grips your hip a bit tighter than he meant to. You yelp, and he quickly rubbed his hand over the spot he'd hurt you, ensuring you remained asleep. He checks the spot and sees some slight bruising already starting to form and curses himself silently for losing control and hurting you. His Evol was quick to move over the injury where his hand lay, instantly restoring your skin back to a healed state. Sylus was amazed he could even do that. His Evol had only ever healed him. It wasn’t until you came along that it had ever revealed that kind of power and it didn’t work for anyone else either.

"Shh shh, its ok. Just be still, I'm almost done filling you up darling…”

Once his orgasmic high subsided, he took a moment to catch his breath before watching as his cum pooled out of you. He took his finger and scooped as much of it as he could gather before gently pushing it back within your folds. Feeling satisfied with his work, he pulled your panties up before finally pulling the cover back over you.

"There you go. Gotta keep my seed where it belongs so you can make us a baby. Right kitten?" he chuckled, finally feeling tired enough to cuddle you and fall asleep.

[rinkkuma]

୨୧ FALLING ALSEEP ON JJK BOYS

ft. satoru gojo, yuta okkotsu, suguru geto, yuuji itadori, & megumi fushiguro

tags. gn!reader, all fluff ! / author's note. second thursday without jjk i think im going insane…. leaks are back tomorrow though im so scared.

SATORU giggles and coos in his head because of how cute you look with your head on his shoulder. (a few slip out loud though) pulls you in a little closer by the waist and gently places his head on top of yours. he sighs contently before taking a few photos, and maybe or maybe not setting it as his wallpaper. after a while, he gets worried about the strain on your neck since you'll probably be asleep for the night a while, he carefully moves your head onto his lap. satoru then covers you up with a blanket before running his fingers through your hair as he closes his eyes.

YUTA is terrified to move. (even to breathe, matter of fact) not because he's uncomfortable, but because the poor boy is scared to wake you up on accident. after calming himself down, he then nearly stops breathing again when he realizes you're wearing his hoodie. a few minutes later after he actually calms himself down, he carefully pulls you closer and places a gentle kiss on your forehead. sooner or later, yuta gets sleepy himself and tucks the two of you under the warm covers with the soft patter of the rain in the background. (he takes like a solid 10 minutes to place a pillow under your head because he's doing it so slowly and carefully)

SUGURU presses soft kisses all over your face to further lull you to sleep. he simultaneously rubs circles on your back to further assure that you're comfortable. brushes any stray pieces of hair that go in front of your eyes, (not that you would care or know anyways since you're asleep) and just admires your face. he cups your face with his hands and fights the urge to kiss your face this time to make sure you don't wake up. when it gets late into the night, he ever so carefully carries you into the bedroom. he feels terrible when he has to wake you up to change into your pajamas or to do your skincare. when he has to though, he insists on doing your skincare with gentle care. and hands

YUUJI squeezes you impossibly close to him. your head is rested on his chest, with his steady breath soothing you. you had fallen asleep while you, yuuji, megumi, and nobara were having a movie night in yuuji's dorm. nobara immediately starts wiggling her eyebrows and starts whistling before yuuji decides to kick her and megumi out of his room. (megumi has no clue why he's being kicked out too since he did not participate in nobara's activities, but he's used to it at this point) with you in his arms and head on his chest, and the remote on the opposite side of the bed from him is a recipe for disaster. after multiple attempts of trying to grab the remote to turn off the tv, (he even tries using his foot) he huffs and eventually gives up and closes his eyes, hugging you tight.

MEGUMI is not phased at all. numerous people have told him his shoulder was comfortable to lay on. (those people being yuuji and nobara) the second that you tell him this, he declares to not let anyone lay their head on his shoulder but you. he immediately puts his phone down and slowly pulls you into his arms, and lays you down on the couch since he knows sleeping sitting up isn't the ideal napping position. he is always a little hesitant to stroke your cheek or touch your face whenever you're sleeping, but he always ends up doing it anyways because of how cute you look, and thankfully you never wake up. (at least he thinks and hopes)

[jayparked]

𝓂𝓊𝓈𝒾𝒸 𝓉𝑜 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓈 | 𝒿𝑜𝓃𝑔𝓈𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑔 | 𝓂

snippet: "Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. pairing: park jongseong x female reader genre: smut au: music producer jay, established relationship rating: explicit/18+, minors dni word count: 9.7k warnings: thunder and lightning storms, cigarette smoking sexual warnings: early morning sex, unprotected sex, lots of moaning, y/n tries to be a brat but jay aint having it, forced orgasm, oral (female and male receiving), jay almost lets y/n dom but then quickly changes his mind, spitting/mentions of drool, fingering, biting, marking, light bruising (from fingernails and biting), choking, language, some light foot worship, jay just really needs y/n to moan the way she did earlier so he can use it for his track, voice recording, brief use of sex toys i.e: restraints and vibrator, begging, whimpering, overstimulation, dirty talk, cigarette use, uhh jay uses the ashes from his cigarette on y/n’s nipples as a stimulant..., there’s some real good aftercare in there too so don’t worry, they’re like...grossly in love

The sound of the rain pitter pattering against the window is what initially draws you from your slumber. It falls rhythmically in a way that would normally lull you back to sleep, but the loud, harsh, fast contact of the water against the glass is almost flinch worthy. It isn’t an ordinary skylight window above a bed. The bedroom walls are slanted invertedly so that when you’re lying on the bed and look up, the window is slanted right above you. You watch as the raindrops hit the window and slowly slide down.

Yawning, you stretch out your arms and feel your muscles tighten before relaxing and you sigh softly with pleasure. You rub your eyes with your fists, blinking quickly as the moonlight escapes past the clouds barrier and cascades across your face causing you to squint annoyedly. Jay loves leaving the specially built blinds up at night, something you had to grow accustomed to after some time living together. Night after night watching him gaze wistfully towards the moon, it became your favorite part of your nightly routine. Watching that look of childish wonder gloss over your boyfriend’s eyes...there’s just nothing like it.

Tonight, the sky isn’t so peaceful. Lightning angrily streaks across the sky making you jump and clutch the flannel sheets to your chest.

"It wake you up too?"

You gasp, a sharp intake of breath causes your voice to squeak.

"You scared me, Jay!" You slap your boyfriend's shoulder lightly with the palm of your hand. He chuckles and rolls onto his side to face you, black hair swooping down over his forehead, just above his very awake looking eyes.

"Sorry. The thunder woke me up a little while ago. I was waiting for it to get you next." The edges of his eyes pinch together as he smirks, his voice sounding more sultry than playful. You shake your head trying to distract yourself from leading your mind down that alley. But it's hard when he looks that good and especially since you just had a dream about his-

"So. Now that we're both up..." he whispers and runs his pointer finger down your arm from your shoulder to your fingertips. "What should we do?" His big innocent eyes are all a ploy, you know that for sure. His pupils are blown out and his breathing is uneven. He knows exactly what he wants to do...and you're not sure if you're against it.

"How about..." you start slowly. You run your hand up his naked chest, feeling his muscles flex under your palm. He sighs and closes his eyes, completely enjoying the feeling of your hand rubbing against his bare skin. His sleep swollen lips part open and you can hear his breaths coming out sharp and quick, his heart rate rising quickly. You guide your hand down his chest and over his abdomen which makes him take in a sharp breath between his teeth. Jay's eyes remain closed so it's easier to marvel over the way his bottom lip starts to quiver, or the way the moonlight cascades shadows off his eyelashes, or the way his cock becomes more and more visible as it hardens under the sheets.

"How about we go back to sleep!" You say excitedly and remove your hand from your boyfriend's body. You throw your head back into your pillow and quickly close your eyes, pretending to instantly fall back asleep. If only it was that easy, right?

"I think we both know there's no point in sleeping now," Jay says, a low growl vibrating deep in his throat. He grasps the sheets in his hand and with one quick motion he throws them off your bodies and onto the floor. Cold air coats your skin and you tuck your knees up to your chest to try to keep in the warmth.

"Oh. Don't worry." Jay grabs your shoulders and turns you on your back, grasping your knees and opening up your legs so that he could kneel between them. "I'll warm you up real quick."

Your heart thumps loudly in your chest, your stomach on fire with anticipation of what's to come. A streak of bright lightning flashes outside once more, followed by a loud clap of thunder over your heads. Jay moves his hand from your shoulder and rubs his palms up and down your thighs- the warmth of his skin makes you sigh and your shoulders relax further into the bed as his hands get further and further up your leg. He gets closer and closer to the edge of your pajama shorts, each time his hands move up and down your legs you're annoyingly aware of the nearness. Like a magnet, your hips move downward to shift your body closer to him, trying so desperately to close that distance. All you want is for him to reach his long fingers underneath your shorts and relieve all of the tension building up at your clit.

"You still with me?" His voice is sultry, almost grainy. He leans back against his heels, now even further away from your heat. But that doesn't stop his roaming hands. Jay's thumb rubs against your talus and moves down to the arch of your foot. At first you flinch from the contact, his fingers tickling your skin. But you relax as he continues to massage your feet, total bliss overtaking your body.

"Sorry," you sigh out. "Feels so good."

Jay smiles, the hunger gone from his eyes for a moment and in their place is the look of a caretaker wanting to bring comfort. He longingly looks at your foot as he continues to massage it and as you look at him you can see clearly how much he loves you. With every soft and delicate touch down to the way he treats every inch of your body as if it were a prized gem.

But then the hunger returns and he moves away from your feet, crawling up towards your face until his lips are mere centimeters away from yours. The heat from his breath makes you hold in your own breathing, your lips parting, desperately wanting for him to kiss you.

This small action does not go unnoticed and Jay prides himself in his ability to have you wrapped around his beautifully long fingers. "Is there something you want?" His lips barely brush over the tops of your own with his annunciation of 'you want'. Shivers run down your spine and your eyes flutter closed, tilting your chin up towards him and elongating your neck. Jay lets his eyes roam over your body, licking his lips as he focuses on the spot of your neck that he knows is extra sensitive.

"What do you want?" His voice is so soft, far beyond a whisper or even a murmur and it completely contrasts against the ever nearing booming of thunder. There's a hidden softness behind his eyes as he peels them away from your body to look into your own. His bangs are falling over his eyes again and you take your hand to sweep them away. Instead of resting your hand back at your side, you cup his cheek, feeling the softness of his skin beneath your fingertips.

Sighing, you can only manage to get out one word in response, "You."

Both of your lips pull together with a force stronger than magnets. There's a faint remnant of smoke hidden behind his breath that's so addicting you can't help but deepen the kiss further. Tongues swirl together and it feels like you've slipped into a dream. One of his hands cradles the small of your back while the other one weaves fingers into your hair. A light tug on your scalp makes you moan into Jay's mouth and he replies hungrily by taking your bottom lip between his teeth, pulling gently yet hard enough to make your head lean forward so that your shoulders lift off the bed.

Jay pulls your body forward more, the hand on the small of your back raising you up until you're both sitting facing one another. His chest feels warm to the touch despite the chill that lingers in the room. You don't blame him though. Your body also feels like it's radiating more heat than normal. With each kiss adds a whole other degree to the body temperature between the two of you. And you just can't get enough. 

"Ride me." Jay huffs. It's a command, not a request. He moves back to the head of the bed, adjusting the pillows before leaning back against them. Lifting the covers away from his body, he removes his boxers slowly. looking into your eyes as he does so. This man is so confident it's almost unsettling. But you know he knows how much you love watching him undress. And it wouldn't be Jay if he wasn't teasing you in some way.

The band of his boxers dips below his hips, exposing his deep muscle lines. The bulge of his cock is so prominent it's making your mouth water and legs twitch with anticipation. Finally, he pulls them all the way down and releases his hardened cock from its cotton cage. He looks harder than normal, the redness of his skin a whole new shade of red than before. A large vein pulses at you, encouraging you to get closer and indulge in all the pleasures it offers you.

When Jay's hand grasps his shaft and strokes lazily, that's when your mind starts to feel hazy. Your mouth starts to salivate and that burning need between your legs is growing so intensely if you don't act on it soon you just might combust right here in this very spot.

You crawl towards your boyfriend slowly, watching him leisurely pump his cock in a way a cat would watch a mouse eat. Batting his hand away, you take his thickness in both of your hands, feeling the warm blood pump through his veins. Jay winces as you grip him a little tightly, the tip of his cock nearly throbbing in your hands from the pressure. You lean over him and open your mouth slightly, allowing a bead of drool to drop down and run down the side of his shaft.

"Fuck." Jay leans his head back against the headboard and moans.

"I'm so hungry for you," you purr and flatten your tongue against the side of his cock and lick one long stripe up to the tip, swirling your tongue around it before sliding your tongue back down again. Jay moans underneath you, muscles already shaking from the adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Do you want me to suck you off or ride you?" You continue to use your tongue to play with him, licking down to the base of his cock before leaving little love bites at the base of his stomach and along his hip bones. Using one of your hands, you reach upward and apply pressure as your hand climbs up his stomach muscles, feeling every curve against your palm until you get to his chest and repeat the motion downward. Another moan leaves his beautiful lips and you can't help but smirk as you realize you could do this all day. Watching him melt in your hands and seeing him mentally debate with himself was a power surge unlike any other.

“Ri-ride me. I want you to ride me.” The words barely come out audible. His eyes are wide as he blinks rapidly, trying his best to stay present, his jaw and neck muscles bulging. He’s so close to the edge you think about ignoring his request. If you just suck him off all the way through, there would be punishment. No doubt about that. As appealing as being punished by your super sexy boyfriend might be, you decide to abide by his request and position yourself over him, your entrance hovering over his weeping cock.

“No more teasing.” The pleading tone is gone from his voice. Instead, it’s commanding and authoritative.

But you choose to ignore that once again.

“Can you even last?” You stick your tongue out playfully, gently biting down as you smirk. Your hands roam over his chest and lightly graze his nipples, a small act that normally drives him insane and right now you can see the clear focus in his eyes. You picked the wrong night to try to be playful.

“Fuck it. You wanna play games? I can play games.” In one sweeping motion, Jay has you on your back, his body hovering over yours. His hand is back on the small of your back, his fingertips gently kneading the muscles of your flesh before he digs his nails in, leaving a trail of scratch marks down your spine.

He tilts his head to the side as he looks into your eyes, pausing to think about something that thrills you to your bones. You’ve never been with a more imaginative partner before and although sometimes his ideas seem scary at first, you trust him completely.

“Oh,” he says simply. “You thinking about something interesting?”

“I’m thinking about all the ways I want you to fuck me.”

“Oof. What a foul mouth you have. Such vulgar words coming out of those pretty lips of yours. I’d fill it if I wasn’t so inclined to fuck that pussy of yours.”

You hitch in a breath, that tingling sensation spurring back to life deep within your core.

As if reading the thoughts of your body, he moves one hand slowly down your midsection, pausing right above your pelvic area. You want to rub your thighs together, hell, you want to touch yourself- no screw that, you need him to fuck you right here and right now. A floodgate of desire opens up within you and you need his cock inside of you. Now.

“Jay please, please fuck me. I need you inside me. I need to feel you.” It came out whinier than you initially intended, but now’s not the time to dwell on one’s tone.

Completely and utterly satisfied with his victory, Jay lines his cock up with your entrance, the tip of his head brushing past your folds and picking up the slick coming out of you. Moaning with the contact, as little as it may be, you try to scoot down further to feel him against your clit. But he holds your hips down firmly in place. You’re not going anywhere unless he wants you to move.

Jay pauses and turns around, grabbing your pillow. You push on your feet, lifting your ass off the bed so that he can rest the pillow underneath there. Now, slightly elevated, he has a better angle and a straight accessway to your g-spot.

Leaning forward, Jay lightly wraps his fingers around your throat, squeezing lightly. Your eyes flutter backwards, already at risk of coming undone from the buildup alone. His pointer finger is pressing right where the sensitive spot on your neck is underneath your ear and it takes everything you have to keep yourself from moaning like a sick person.

The head of his cock teases your entrance once more, getting closer and closer until literally just the tip goes inside before he abruptly pulls back out.

“Please. No more teasing.” You beg, wiggling your shoulders as you pout.

“Not so funny now that you’re on the other end, huh?” Jay lowly chuckles and that’s when he thrusts his hips forward, his cock sliding right into you.

“Oh!” You yell as the tip brushes against your g-spot instantly. Your gasp gets caught in your throat because of his hand around your neck and you nearly swallow your own words. The restricted airways has your head feeling lighter than normal and it gives you a new high that’s impossible to feel if he would have done this without his hand squeezing your neck. Your walls contract instinctually around him, desperately trying to adjust to his length and girth. The light tug feels so satisfying and you grip his forearms tightly, fingernails leaving small half-moon shaped marks in his skin.

“Ugh, you’re so wet and still so tight,” Jay whines and slowly moves his hips back and forth, not enough to remove the head of his cock from you, but enough to brush against your bundle of nerves over and over and over again. He releases his hand from your neck and moves it down on the bed to support himself as he quickens his pace. 

Arching your back already, you shut your eyes tightly as you try to keep yourself from coming too soon.

Not quite sure if it’s the angle, the day, or the way he’s rhythmically moving his hips, but this all feels too good. Even more so than sex with Jay usually is. The way he's pounding you into the mattress has your body contorting in what should be inhuman ways. Your arms bend as you grip the sheets above your head, your back arches in a possessed like manner as Jay continues to use his cock to send you over the edge. Sex has never felt this good before. He has never made you feel this good before. Your body is shaking- no, vibrating as you feel that white heat getting closer and closer. Your breath hitches in your throat before you let out the most pornarific moan you've ever heard in your life. Upon hearing you, Jay stutters inside you, his orgasm hitting him harder than he expected. You're still coming down from your own high, the dark spots in the corners of your vision are finally disappearing.

"Holy fuck," Jay pants as he slowly removes himself from you. “You’ve never made that sound before.” He’s sitting back on his heels once more, staring at you with a look of wonder. There’s a spark in his eyes, one that you recognize, and you stifle a laugh knowing what’s about to come next.

“Inspired?” You smile.

“Immensely,” he delights. His fingers start to tap rhythmically against his thighs as he looks over to his music equipment in the corner of the room. In the most innocent and inoffensive way, he’s long forgotten you as his creative mind kicks into overdrive.

“Go.” You yawn. “I’m gonna go back to sleep.”

Jay leans down and gives you a quick kiss on your temple, leaving the bed to quickly pull on his sweatpants and seating himself in his chair, firing up his computer and putting on his headphones.

Your eyes droop slower and slower, getting heavier each time you blink. The last thing you see before sleep takes you is your boyfriend leaning forward in his chair, back muscles rippling as he lights a cigarette, the smoke swirling up towards the ceiling as he exhales, dancing through the fringe of his bangs as it ascends.

“Ugh!”

Your eyes shoot open, sleep being yanked away from you by a loud bang and the yell from Jay. Sitting up, you see your boyfriend’s fists clenched tightly, resting on either side of his keyboard. His face is red, the vein on his temple starting to bulge and his shoulders are hunched so far that his shoulders are almost touching his ears.

“Jay? What’s wrong?” You rub your fists into your eyes, trying to keep the grumpiness of being abruptly woken up at bay.

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to wake you up.” He slides his headphones off his ears so that they’re sitting at the base of his neck. The ends of his hair is coated with sweat, the tips of his ears red from the headphones being on for too long. Pivoting his chair towards you, you can see the stress lines on his forehead and the strain in his eyes. There’s a nearly finished cigarette tucked between his fingers at the knuckles and a few finished ones lying in the ashtray by his keyboard. He huffs on the one in his hand quickly before putting it out in said ashtray and then climbs onto the bed to sit across from you, his knees touching yours.

"I've been working on this track for the past three hours now. I just can't get the pitch right." He shakes his head in defeat, a long sigh leaving his lips as he does so.

"This happens all the time, but it’s okay. You always get it in the end." You try to sound encouraging but instead your voice comes off dull and uninterested.

Jay's mouth pulls to the right side of his face, making the lines by his cheeks and dimple deepen. "This one is different. I'm already starting to forget how you sounded."

Baffled, you tilt your head to the side and nervously laugh. "Me? I thought I dreamt that!"

"Yes you! I've never heard anything more...more...more," he snaps his fingers as he tries to think of the right word, "more exhilarating! It was dramatic. It was sexy, inspiring even. It was a sound that could tell anyone what you're feeling. It's pure bliss." His fingers absentmindedly make their way to the divot on the inside of your knee, rubbing slow deep circles into your skin. On a regular day, the touch would barely be noticed. Right now, on the other hand, his touch ignites a fire in your blood, raising your body temperature to a whole new degree. It's suddenly hard to swallow and you're very, very aware that you are watching as his lips form words as he speaks, barely comprehending said words at all. The way his jaw moves and the way his mouth molds around each syllable and seeing flashes of his tongue gently touch the rooftop of his mouth.

"Y/N? You fall asleep with your eyes open again?"

You're brought back down to earth, blinking rapidly as you feel your boyfriend softly shake your shoulder.

"Sorry," you rub your eyes and suppress the urge to yawn, "I guess I'm still tired."

"Let me tuck you in." He goes to lay you back down and you gladly let him.

"Here," you mumble, lips barely moving and eyes already shut. You let the weight of your arm bounce against his side of the bed . "You should sleep too. Take a break. Work later."

He doesn't respond but his weight is still on the end of the bed. You can feel the dip and you just want him to lie down already.

"Jaaayyy," you whine, eyes still closed.

"I think," his pitch has changed, a low murmur making your eyes pop open wide immediately. You know that tone. You know it all too well and your body starts to overheat again, "I want to do something else."

Slowly lifting your head, you intend to look into his eyes, but you're very quickly misguided as you watch your boyfriend slowly pumping at his cock, quickly making himself go from semi hard to fully hard in mere seconds. His blue boxers rest below his hip bones, giving yourself a full display on the thing that is going to wreck you into the next dimension momentarily.

"O-oh." You sit there frozen, unsure of what to do next.

"I know I just fucked you but honestly? I can do better." There's a devilish smirk painted onto that beautiful face of his and you've never been more excited to be a sinner.

You match his smirk and use your feet to kick the covers off the bed and before you're done with the action, he's on top of you. Lips that usually feather lightly across your body now hungrily nip and lick over your rib cage, around your hip bones below your stomach line, and over the swell of your collar bones. Each nip and pull makes you shiver beneath him, your hands tracing over the muscles on his back. Your legs come up and hug his hips, now trapping him in place. One of Jay's hands grabs a fistful of your yellow night shorts, tugging them to the side but not necessarily taking them off. His thumb digs into your hip bone while he kisses around your breasts. The closeness of his fingers to your core is driving your body absolutely mad. You're already so turned on and ready to be touched and you know that he knows that that's what you want.

And yet…

His tongue delicately swirls your nipple and you hold your breath for a moment. The coolness of the air mixed in with his saliva makes you feel chills throughout your entire body. He flattens his tongue directly on the tip of your nipple as he squeezes the other breast with his hand and you quickly move your hands from his back and into his soft black hair. You grip tightly at his roots, already feeling your back start to arch as he continues to lick and lap at the hardening buds on your chest.

"Hmm...already?" He chuckles as he takes your nipple between his teeth.

"Hnng," You groan out and grip his hair tighter. Your breathing shallows and your body can't decide what it wants. You want him to rub your clit oh so badly but you don't want him to stop massaging your breasts. The way his tongue swirls around your nipple is almost too good. No one should be this talented with their mouth.

He moves to the side of your breasts and leaves love bites in an array of patterns on your skin.

"Why'd you stop?" You gasp and grip his shoulders. The love bites feel great, they definitely don't help the surge of arousal going straight down into your shorts, but you know you were close to coming and you've never come from nipple stimulation alone.

"You weren't moaning how I wanted you to. Ah- which...actually reminds me..." And just like that, his body is off of yours, taking the heat with him. Getting off the bed, Jay opens one of his desk drawers and removes a small microphone with a clip. You watch as he gathers the necessary chords, no ordinary recording device would do. He quickly attaches one end of the chords into his computer and fishes the rest of the line out as he walks back towards the bed. Still holding the hand sized device, he places his knees on either side of your hips, giving you a full view of his beautifully erected cock. You mentally note that he has definitely shaved recently, his skin looking so soft and kissable. The thought of kissing and sucking at the areas around the base of his cock makes your mouth water. While he busies himself with trying to find a way for the microphone to rest on top of the headboard without falling, you help yourself to a little taste of him.

The tip of his cock is salty with precum and you lick your lips quickly to lubricate them. Jay's hips instinctively flinch backwards, but once he looks down and sees what you're doing, all he does is smirk and continue to work on setting up the microphone.

You slowly insert the head of his cock onto the top of your tongue just inside your mouth. Exhaling, you let your warm breath fall across his shaft and small goosebumps appear at his midsection. Taking a long stripe from the base of his cock and back to the head, you avoid any chastising about teasing by promptly inserting him fully into your mouth, slowly and inch by inch allowing him to sink further and further back into your throat. You go until the tip of your nose and your lips touch his midsection, his length now fully submerged in your throat.

"Jesus you're not playing around tonight aren't you?"

You hum a response that makes his hips sputter, a stuttering groan leaving his lips quickly followed by a whispered ‘fuck’.

Slowly moving your head back, you go until the tip is almost past your lips before moving back down his shaft. You keep up the slow pace, mostly to annoy him and also to insure that he doesn't come anytime soon.

His hands, without warning, are weaving through your hair as you swirl your tongue around his tip. He guides you, quickening your pace and he continues to hit the back of your throat over. And over. And over-

Jay pulls himself back and his cock is out of your mouth.

"You're a sneaky little devil. You almost had me." He wags his finger at your face, making small tsk tsk noises with his mouth as he recenters himself and pulls his boxers up, hiding his beautiful cock from view. "Now, where was I?" He leans back towards the microphone and turns it on, a bright red light blinking up on the side. Adjusting the angle one last time, he's finally happy with his setup.

"Do you know what this is for?" He points to it and gets off the bed. Humoring him, you shake your head no.

"I need you to make that sound you made earlier. Do you understand? I don't want it. I need it."

Worriedly, you realize he's heading towards the closet and fear and excitement root into your chest as you watch him bend down to the last drawer of the dresser and take out a shoe box.

Sauntering back to the bed, he carelessly throws the shoe box onto the bed and some of its contents fall out. A bright blue vibrator as long as your forearm is the first you see followed up by light gray fuzzy handcuffs. There's more in the box, at least half a dozen other toys that Jay only likes to break out when he feels like you need to be punished, or if he needs a specific reaction from your body.

Right now, you're thinking it might be both options.

Jay picks up the handcuffs and looks them over in his hands. He's acting as if he's never used them on you before and that in itself is thrilling because now, you don't know what's going to happen next.

Pulling out three more pairs from the box, he wordlessly cuffs your wrists and ankles to the bedposts while you willingly, and wordlessly, allow him.

Still without words, he moves back to the bed. That's when you notice how steady his breathing is. And although appearing to be calm under a heated situation, his cock continues to throb and twitch, the head surely getting redder and angrier by the second underneath his boxers.

His hands are moving down your body, feeling every curve, reading every detail in your skin as if he were reading braille. Fingers dip inside your waistband, hooking around the material before sliding them down your legs, annoyedly realizing that he should have removed them before cuffing you to the bed. Without blinking, he grasps the material between his hands and tears the fabric as if it were nothing more than a single sheet of paper. The anticipation of his touch is driving you crazy and you're never going to get over the fact that your boyfriend has now literally torn your clothes off your body in order to get you naked.

"Please, babe," you pull at your restraints, the fuzzy padding protecting your wrists from any real harm and you try your best to spread your legs out further for him, "touch me."

Unresponsive, Jay eyes your core, looking at it in a way a man starved looks at a loaf of bread. His hands are on your thighs now, deeply kneading your muscles with his fingertips. His thumbs graze over bruises from previous escapades and it feels borderline euphoric.

"Touch me." You repeat and watch angrily as he remains unresponsive. His hands dip lower, over your knees and down to your shins. Desperation bubbles up from within the pits of your belly and rises until you feel it fester in your throat until you can't keep it down any longer.

"Touch me!" You yell and not so gently nudge his side with your leg. Finally, he looks up at your face and chuckles under his breath.

"So needy," he says with disappointment, but a smile paints softly across his face. "So ungrateful and so spoiled."

Jay's hands move quickly, fingers suddenly grip tightly at your hips as he raises up your lower half until it's level with his face. You bite on your bottom lip to keep yourself from yelping as his fingernails scratch into your skin before moving to support your weight by cupping your ass. You can feel his hot breath hovering over your clit, making you feel just how truly wet you are. Jay gulps down hard, looking as if being presented with a grand holiday meal.

"You're glistening, baby," he groans, proceeding to attach his lips onto your clit. The moment his tongue makes contact with your slickness, you inhale quickly. Finally, finally some contact.

He swirls his tongue slowly around your clit, no longer making direct contact. Gathering as much juices as he can, he spits it back out onto your clit. Warm mixes with cold and you sit up quickly only to be pushed back down by your boyfriend's strong hands. He keeps his hand on your chest right below your collarbone as he uses his other hand to wipe your juices and his spit around your clit.

It's so wet you almost miss the feeling of his bare hands.

"So, so messy." He tsks at you and continues his movements. "What am I going to do with you, Y/n? Hmm?"

You stay silent at the sound of your name instead of his usual pet names for you. His piercing brown eyes stare deep within yours as he continues to stroke you.

"Do I let you come from my fingers? From my tongue? From my cock? What will make you make that pretty...pretty sound again?"

You whimper as he inserts a single finger into your hole, your vagina naturally clenching around the digit. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enough.

Jay chuckles and you know he's finding humor in the way he has you wrapped around his finger...well...quite literally. He knows how weak you are when it comes to him, knows you'll do anything for him and knows exactly what to do to make you feel good.

"Are you going to be a good girl and make that pretty sound again? Hm? For me?" He inserts another finger and slowly curls them inside you, beckoning you towards him and touching that spongey bundle of nerves that sends you straight into the heavens.

"I'll try!" You cry out, wishing that he would apply more pressure inside of you so that you can finally release the orgasm that has been building up bigger and bigger. You’re honestly not sure if you can make the same moaning sound that he’s referring to because, quite honestly, you have no idea what you sounded like in the first place.

Jay pushes down your hips that you weren't aware you had raised upward. He keeps his free hand there while he quickens his pace with the other. The beautiful and sinful acts that his fingers can do to your body are coming into effect as you start to shake beneath him. Your breathing is more ragged than ever and you pull as hard as you can at your restraints without caring if it'll hurt you later. The coil deep within your body starts getting tighter and tighter, readying itself to break and unfurl.

You open your mouth to let out a deep, long moan but right as the sound erupts out of your mouth and into existence, Jay pulls his fingers out of you and sits back, completely untouching you.

Your orgasm disappears in a snap and you groan out angrily.

“Okay what the fuck,” you sound angrier than you intended. 

“Can’t let you come like that. It’s too easy.” He looks at the bed and pushes past some of the toys until he finds one that breaks out that devilishly handsome smile that you love oh so much.

In his hand he’s holding a simple, small, white vibrator.

Now, vibrators aren’t your favorite and he’s well aware of this. You come too quickly and aren’t able to savor that sweet build up feeling of fire within your lower half, that numbness that overtakes the tips of your toes and makes you want to kick them straight into a wall. The fact that he picked this out of the box of other torturing devices means that he plans on making you come. A lot. And in a short period of time.

Upon realizing his intention you think about pleading with him to use something else, anything else. The tiredness behind your eyes creeps up slower than the night, but it does not slow its pace. You want to come. You want to make him come. And then you want to sleep wrapped up tightly in your boyfriend’s arms.

Jay turns the vibrator on and watches as it purrs to life in his hands. He strokes the length of it as if it were the back of a cat. Now, looking at you, he grins, showing his pearly white teeth and another wave of arousal washes over you. Power exuberates from every inch of his body as he saunters back over to you. A bead of sweat forms at your temple and slowly slides down past your cheekbone. It tickles and makes you shiver, but you don't take your eyes off Jay.

"Are you ready?" he says softly upon reaching the edge of the bed. Standing in between your legs, he waits for your response.

You sigh, "yes," and let the muscles in your legs relax.

Jay places the tip of the vibrator on your left thigh and you moan immediately at the touch, feeling the sensation creep up to your core. The vibrator stays in place for a few moments while Jay watches your expressions intently. His eyebrows are furrowed so deeply that they almost touch and his mouth is scrunched together and pushed to the side. This has become more than sexual pleasure.

This is a science experiment.

"How does it feel when I do this?" he queries and moves the vibrator slowly up your thigh and stops just before it touches your core.

"It feels...torturous." Your hips start to shake purely from lack of physical contact where you need it the most. You try to hold in your pouts, try to hold in your pleading, but if your clit goes any longer without getting relief you're going to lose your mind.

"Good." And then right as you're about to beg for him to touch you, the vibrator is thrust right on your clit with a strong unmoving pressure.

Your hips roll forward and you don't have time to think before you cry out and feel your orgasm come and go quicker than you can blink. The vibrations run deeply through your body and after waiting so long, you just couldn't hold on.

"Whoa. Record time." Jay smarts but keeps the vibrator on you.

As you come down it starts to feel uncomfortable. Overstimulation is not something you're able to have the patience or willpower for.

“You can keep going,” Jay encourages and increases the speed on the vibrator. You whimper and look at him anxiously as your whole body begins to tremble.

“Moan for me, baby. Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me.”

They’re not moans quite yet. It starts off as small gasps as your body desperately tries to adjust to the overstimulation, angry when it realizes it can’t. That’s when the tears prick your eyes. You try to be tough and hold on but you feel another orgasm being forced from your body and you cry out in pleasured agony.

Jay removes the vibrator mid orgasm and your muscles immediately collapse into the bed. Panting harder than a dog on a hot summer day, you truly hope that that was the sound he’s looking for.

“Hmmm...not quite…”

“Please, Jay. Let me help you come. Forget about the sound. Let's get you off so we can go back to sleep.” Your throat feels hoarse as you talk from lack of water or the intense screams and moans, you’re not sure. Perhaps a mixture of all of it. Either way, you’re tired and you wish you could help him, but this project seems like a lost cause.

“Rest for a second. I need to listen to something.” He moves quickly to his computer, putting his headphones on crooked and clicking away at the screen. Your body is too tired to watch what he’s doing.

A few moments pass before Jay stands up again and you notice a freshly lit cigarette in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Y/n. I’ll untie you-” Jay pauses mid step and mid sentence and stares at the cigarette in his hand, quickly looking to your naked body, and then back at the cigarette.

"What's wrong?" You strain your head to try to meet his gaze but he's off in another world. His lips move as he mumbles lowly to himself, words incomprehensible to you from this far away. Taking a long drag from the cigarette, he holds in the smoke as he observes the cancer stick before walking closer to you. He’s sworn to quit so many times, but claims the nicotine helps him stay focused when he works on long projects. It’s not a favorable habit, but you just cannot deny how sexy he looks while taking a long drag from a cigarette and letting the smoke swirl out of his pretty lips. It fits his artistic rockstar image a little too well.

Finally you're able to catch: "that wouldn't be messed up...would it?"

"What wouldn't be messed up?" Annoyance is a nice way to put how you're feeling right now. You're just laying here, tied up and your boyfriend is only five feet away from you, completely ignoring your existence. Unfortunately he does this often; spacing out, talking to himself, unable to sense his surroundings. When it's music related it's admirable. When you're involved? Straight up annoying. But it’s even worse when the two are combined.

"I have...a crazy idea. Please let me know if it's too out there and we'll discard it immediately."

You gulp down what feels to be a big rock in your throat that doesn't want to be swallowed. His tone is cautious yet excited and he doesn't look you directly in the eyes but off to the side of your head.

"What is it?" You say slowly, wishing more than ever that you could sit up and talk to him face to face.

Jay brings his cigarette up in front of his face, his eyes concentrating hard on the object in front of him.

"I want to use the cigarette ash as a stimulant on you."

Immediately the first thing that comes to mind is 'what the actual fuck'. You've never heard of anyone using any part of cigarettes as a form of sexual pleasure. But then you let your mind breathe for a second and the idea sounds rather...arousing? Just the thought of Jay flicking his cigarette ash onto your body sounds so degrading and he usually doesn't dip in that direction sexually.

He's carefully watching your face now, looking for any sign that you're not on board with this.

You smile.

"Where on my body?" You say seductively. His eyes light up, that same sexual deviant smile back onto his face. Excitement is evident as his chest rises and falls at a quicker pace. And finally, finally, he walks towards you, that cigarette held loosely between his fingers.

His shadow casts over your midsection as he towers above you. One arm crosses his chest while his other arm, the one with the cigarette, rests on top. It looks like he's about to take another drag but stops himself just before it touches his lips.

"I was thinking...your nipples?"

Your mouth immediately starts to water and your legs involuntarily shift, wanting ever so badly to rub together. Suddenly you're hyper aware of how hard your nipples are. They're like little gumdrops resting on top of your breasts and when you close your eyes you can still feel the wetness of Jay's tongue as he swirled his tongue around them.

Most people use candle wax or ice cubes as nipple stimulants.

But then again, you and Jay aren't most people.

"Please. Do it." Eagerly, you roll your hips forward and jut your chest forward towards him. A deep hunger is rooted in his eyes as he takes a quick huff, blowing the smoke up towards the ceiling before climbing onto the bed. Your heart is beating fast and hard in your chest as you wait for him to make his next move.

Jay’s cock twitches back to life, a newfound surge of want coursing through his veins while your body reacts the same. He quickly checks to make sure his microphone is still on and then puts the cigarette between his lips. He gives himself a quick pump as he moves closer to your body.

Forget the cigarette ash, you think to yourself. You want him.

And he apparently wants you too.

Jay’s hands move expeditiously down the sides of your body, running over your hips and down your thighs as he positions himself between your legs. He uses the head of his cock to rub against your swollen clit, your hips bucking with the sudden contact. Unlike previously, Jay is in no mood to take his time. After rubbing up and down your folds a few times, he uses your slick as lubrication and promptly inserts himself into your hole. He grunts deeply as he bottoms out and you’re left gasping as your body adjusts to his size. Jay rests his chin on top of your head as he breathes heavily around the cigarette hanging crooked in his mouth, away from your hair. The smoke wafts around you and slightly burns your nostrils but you love it.

He’s addicted to cigarettes.

You’re addicted to him.

After giving himself a moment, Jay finally starts to move, rocking his hips slowly back and forth to generate some momentum. A deep moan gurgles from the back of his throat and you can see in his eyes how difficult it is for him to hold himself back.

The air in the room gets stuffy with the heat of your bodies mixed in with the smoke. It makes you both pant harder, faster.

“I can’t take it anymore,” Jay growls and sits back, his cock unfortunately slipping out of you. He takes your legs and sets your feet against his shoulders and realigns himself with your entrance. Without giving you both time to adjust, he slams deep within you, your body jolting in response as he hits your sensitive spot.

“Fuck!” He yells and quickens his pace, his cock relentlessly filling every inch of space within you. Small whimpers move past your lips and a fire lights behind Jay’s eyes.

“What was that? I can’t hear you?” As his hips continue to rock into you, he grabs the microphone off the top of the headboard and shoves it in your face. With his other hand he takes a drag from his cigarette, blowing the smoke to the side before leaning down, hovering the cigarette a few inches above one of your nipples.

You look up at him hopefully and you’re open to tell him it’s okay when he taps his pointer finger on top of the cigarette, gray ash tumbling down towards your body.

“Ah!” You exclaim as the ash hits the peak of your breast. The initial impact of the ash to your skin makes your body panic, completely unused to the sensation. But then, it feels erotic. The nerves in your nipples sing with pleasure and your back arches as the warmth sinks deeply into you. You watch as your breasts bounce with each thrust Jay gives you and the ash rolls down onto your chest.

He continues thrusting and taking drags from his cigarette despite looking winded and exhausted. The headboard bangs against the wall, mirroring the thunder still booming in the distance. Soft groans and moans fill the room until Jay pushes your legs closer to your face, going deeper inside of you.

“Dear god your pussy is just too good. You’re still so wet after everything else. Always wet for my cock aren’t you?” His thrusts are getting longer, sloppier.

“Always. I love your cock,” you exhaustedly whisper. You can feel that coil deep inside you wanting to unspring so badly and only Jay can get you there.

He takes a final drag from his cigarette and flicks the biggest chunk of ash towards your nipple. You moan out as it makes contact at the same time the tip of his cock kisses deeply against your cervix, a high pitched moan that makes your eyes roll backwards.

And then he presses his thumb on top of your nipple, smearing the ash on top of you and right as he does it he thrusts so hard and deeply into you and holds himself there.

“F-uh-uck!” You sputter out the mother of all moans as your orgasm rips through you making you see a bright flash of white.

“Oh shit!” Jay grunts and thick ropes of cum spill inside you.

You both take a moment to regain your breaths. Then Jay removes your legs from his shoulders, setting you down gently and fully removing himself from you. He moves to his desk and puts his cigarette butt into the ashtray and his microphone next to the keyboard. He takes a moment and places his fists behind his back right at his hip bones and leans back until a satisfying crack sounds out through the room.

Jay looks back at you with complete adoration in his eyes, a natural smile forming on his lips as he puckers them to give you an air kiss. Promptly untying you from your restraints, he rubs small circles into your wrists after he frees you, the pressure soothing your aching joints.

“I love you,” he mutters tenderly and places a kiss on top of your forehead.

“I love you too.” You smile.

He gets up and heads to the bathroom while you remain on the bed. You hear the bath turn on and run rapidly and the sound makes you feel the sleep wanting to pull you back in. You can't feel your thighs or any part of your lower half for that matter, but yet your muscles still tremble from the overwhelming aftermath of your multiple orgasms. Gazing upward, the white ceiling looks so dull above you and yet, somehow, comforting. Your mind instinctively tries to find pictures within the grooves but it proves to be too much work for your brain right now. So you go back to just staring absentmindedly. Jay is saying something from the bathroom but your brain is too tired to focus on what it was he was saying exactly. Body still trembling, you close your eyes and will for sleep to take you.

But then hands are on your body, lifting your head off the pillow. And then you're being carried, your body feeling weightless. You groan out for your bed, wanting nothing more than to be completely buried in blankets as sleep overcomes you.

The bathroom light has been dimmed and some of your favorite scented candles are lit on the counter. An aroma of lemon and rose petals waft throughout the room. You breathe in deeply through your nose and sigh out of your mouth, your body melting in your boyfriend's arms.

Jay gently places your feet on the mat in front of the freestanding soaking bathtub. There's mountains of bubbles already rising on top of the water and you can't wait to sink down into it.

Jay uses his hand to grip your elbow, guiding you as you put one foot in the water and then the other.

You sit up front where the faucet is dumping soothing warm water. You put your hands together and let the stream pool into your palms and run over your skin. This is total bliss and your aching muscles begin to relax happily.

Water splashes behind you and you turn around to see Jay getting into the bath as well. You smile at him before turning back around and picking up a handful of bubbles.

"What shampoo do you want? The good smelly one or the deep clean one?" Jay holds both bottles in either hand, looking back and forth between the two.

You look back at him and tiredly try to decide. The “good smelly one” is peach while the deep cleaning one is a tea tree extract.

"Would it be weird if I combined both? It honestly might be really good." He awaits your input.

"Both are fine." You nod your head and turn back to the front. You turn off the water and lay your arms over both edges of the tub.

Gentle hands run down your hair from the top of your head down to the tips before returning to your scalp. His fingers massage the shampoos into your head and a low wistful grumble escapes your throat. You feel the shampoo lathering in your hair and the way Jay's fingers move with purpose has you closing your eyes in pure bliss. He uses the pads of his fingers to massage deeply into your skull, nearly lulling you to sleep.

His hands leave your hair and you hear the clicking of another cap opening and then it clicks shut a moment after. His hands are back on your body but this time they're on your shoulders. A strong lavender smell enters your nostrils and it dawns on you that he's massaging your soothing body wash into your skin.

It's silent in the bathroom except for the small droplets of water tinkling from the faucet into the tub. It's not an eerie silence, it's almost tranquil.

You spend a bit more time in the bathtub together. Jay completely taking care of you to wash off every trace of cigarette ash that was left on your body. His hands soothingly rub alongst every inch of your body.

“I’m ready to get out,” you sigh. You’re leaning against Jay’s chest, his bare skin comforting against your own, “before I completely fall asleep in here.”

“Okay. Let me get out first and grab your towel.” He attentively lifts your body forward to give himself some room to emerge from the bath. Water runs off his body and onto the tile floor as he crosses the room for his towel first. You pull the drain plug in the bath and watch as a tiny whirlpool appears.

After aggressively rubbing the towel in his hair, Jay wraps it around his waist to cover himself, his hair looking static as it sticks out in every which way. He grabs you a fresh towel from the cupboard, the fluffy white one you usually save for special self care relaxation days.

Padding his way back over to you, he drapes the white towel in both of his arms and holds it out, waiting to envelope you in it once you step out.

You stand up slowly, clutching the edges of the tub as you push yourself up. Your legs are still quite shaky. For the most part they still feel pretty numb. You lift one leg up carefully and find your footing on the tile before gingerly taking out your other leg. Jay wraps you tightly in the soft towel that could honestly be a blanket if one chose to do so. You sigh into it, your muscles relaxing as Jay dries you off.

“Let’s get you to bed. We can watch a movie.” After he says it, Jay pauses to look at you. Afraid that something is on your face, your hand touches your cheek questionably. He reaches up and moves his hand under yours so that he’s cupping your cheek, his thumb tracing softly against your cheekbone.

“I love you,” he says softly before leaning in and kissing your lips. As soon as your lips touch it feels like you’re melting into him all over again. And all too soon, the kiss is over.

Swiftly, he picks you up bridal style and carries you to bed as you giggle and cling to his neck. He lightly places you back onto the bed and pulls back the covers and quickly throws them over your body once you’re comfortable. Jay adjusts your pillow to make sure your head stays straight and makes sure every one of your toes is snuggled and warm before handing you the TV remote and then walking towards the door.

“What snack do you want?” He calls from the door frame, his hand lightly brushing against the soft pastel yellow paint.

“Surprise me!” You call as you flip through the different genre suggestions, your brain not even registering what the titles are.

After giving up and picking a random movie, Jay walks in with some water bottles and a bag of pretzels and climbs into bed next to you.

“Don’t you want to get back to your music?” You inquire as you grab a handful of pretzels. He gets himself comfortable next to you by adjusting his pillow, grabbing a fistful of pretzels himself once he’s done.

“Nah. That can wait. I just want to be here with you.” He smiles before popping a piece of the tasty snack into his mouth.

Your heart swells knowing how much he wants to be back in that chair working his magic. Normally you couldn’t drag him away from that stupid computer. So you don’t push it and snuggle in deeper next to him, letting your head fall against his shoulder.

Together you munch away, forgetting about sleep entirely, and listening as the thunder grumbles in the distance.

a/n: thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed :] if you did please reblog and leave a comment!

♡ masterlist

© all rights reserved. do not copy, modify, translate, or repost. jayparked 09/05/24

[shotmrmiller]

Uninvited, Unexpected.

a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.

this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)

ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged

wc: 3,1K

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader

my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.

You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.

A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.

The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.

Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.

Someone's knocking on your door.

Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.

In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."

Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.

The knocking persists.

The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.

Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"

Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—

Simon.

Simon?

Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.

"What the hell?"

It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.

"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.

Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."

That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.

Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.

Two bottles, then.

You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.

He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."

Small mercies.

Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.

You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.

His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."

His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.

You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.

"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."

The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.

"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.

"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.

His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.

"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.

"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.

You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.

Relentless.

"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."

The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.

It comes undone.

"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.

You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.

"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.

Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.

" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.

The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.

The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.

The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.

"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.

"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.

You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.

A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"

The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.

Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)

"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.

He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.

The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.

"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.

"Yes. I know."

The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.

"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.

"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.

"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."

He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—

Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.

"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."

There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.

Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.

The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—

Snap.

The structure that holds everything in place collapses.

A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.

Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.

A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.

Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.

Gentle but unyielding.

There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.

"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."

Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.

A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.

"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."

His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.

"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."

He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.

Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.

Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.

Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.

"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.

He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.

As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.

Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.

His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.

"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."

Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.

He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.

Gone.

Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)

He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.

From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.

(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)

[elysianightsss]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[james-bucky-barnackle]

I mean?

Synopsis: On a press tour with your co-star Sebastian Stan, the interviewer asks you a question about another film he did and the answer surprises him.

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Actress!Y/N

Word Count: IDK I'm too sleep deprived to count.

A/N: Bro I am on a resurgence. Might just fuck around and continue writing more fanfics or whatever.

It’s another busy day promoting your new movie with Sebastian, The Road Trip. It's a funny romcom about two best friends going on a long trip to see another friend who your character is dating. Interestingly enough, the guy who plays him is Chris Evans. The interviews are currently being done in pairs, and you're with Sebastian.

You've always been candid, speaking your mind without feeling shy. Deep down, you're a bit of a pessimist, accepting things as they are. When you first heard from your agent that you were cast in The Road Trip alongside Sebastian Stan and Chris Evans, you laughed hysterically. The idea that you, an unconventional beauty, were chosen to be on screen with those two seemed surreal. You never really think about dating co-stars, which helps with acting in general. The media is impressed with how chill you are around A-list actors, and even though it hasn’t fully sunk in yet, the industry has started promoting you to that list.

The interview has been going on for about 15 minutes when another journalist joins, mostly asking about the experience of working with the cast.

“It’s my first romcom, can you believe it?” you say.

“First?!” Sebastian stares in mock disbelief.

“I know, right?!” You feign surprise.

The interviewer continues, “How does it feel to do something lighter and a bit comedic for once?”

“You mean, a movie where no one dies?” Sebastian covers his mouth at your response.

“I mean essentially,” the interviewer laughs. “Wait, no one dies?!” They nudge you playfully.

“I mean, I’m not sure, no spoilers,” you say, breaking the fourth wall and looking into the camera. Sebastian cackles. “It’s definitely refreshing. It feels like going to school for some reason. Like I don’t want to miss a class just because I might miss something wild happening.”

“What?” Sebastian glares. “What school did you go to?”

“I mean, aside from the learning stuff…” You grimace. “It’s fun, honestly. I’d love to do more romcoms. It’s very down-to-earth and just resonates with you so much. I don’t wanna get too cheesy, but I’m such a hopeless romantic—this is my jam.”

“Sebastian, how’s your experience working with Chris again, this time outside of the Marvel universe?”

“Wait, this isn’t in the Marvel Universe?!” you butt in. Sebastian again, fakes a loud gasp. You two laugh. This interview feels like it’s going nowhere.

“It’s totally fun, as Y/N mentioned—it really is like going to class. But most of my scenes are with Y/N, so she’s like the lab partner I’ve never had. Chris was always texting us, checking which location we’re going to be at, making sure we’re scheduled on the same day. It’s fun when we’re both on set.”

You nod in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve got a good rhythm going. It’s like having a little family on set. Plus, Chris is always the one who brings snacks, so that’s a bonus.”

Sebastian laughs. “Oh, absolutely. Chris and his endless supply of trail mix.”

The interviewer chuckles. “Sounds like you all have a great dynamic. Was there a favorite scene you both enjoyed filming together?”

You think for a moment. “I really loved the scene where we’re stuck in the car during that rainstorm. It was so chaotic, but we had a blast improvising and just playing off each other.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a good one. The rain machine was going full blast, and we were just trying not to crack up the entire time.”

The interviewer smiles. “It sounds like it was a lot of fun. And the chemistry definitely shows on screen. Speaking of different roles, Y/N, Sebastian’s been in the movie Fresh where he plays a sociopathic killer who preys on lonely women pretending to be a genuine guy.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” you say, laughing, as Sebastian shakes his head.

“Would you, like Noa, fall prey to Steve’s antics?” This question gets a louder laugh from Sebastian as your face shows pure shock. You hold him back with your hand and say,

“I’ve thought about this, to be honest,” you start, looking at Sebastian as he raises his eyebrows, impressed.

“Oh, you have?”

You laugh and continue, patting his thigh and looking back at the interviewer. “Me and my friend talked about it a while back. And it’s frightening because I would’ve probably ended up on a chopping block.”

“Noooo!” Sebastian shouts, “I was rooting for you.”

“No! But, like, you are incredibly good-looking and charismatic. It would be hard not to give my number at the grocery aisle.”

He tilts his head at your response. “Surely not good enough to get yourself killed?!”

“You’d be surprised how far I’d even go,” you say, as the interviewer laughs with you both. “Oh god, I need to call my therapist,” you add, ending the topic with the three of you gagging.

“Might just have to talk to mine too, after hearing that.”

You can already feel TikTok saving this clip and turning it into a meme.

You notice, after you call Sebastian good-looking, he’s been eyeing you sideways and biting his lip. As if he’s suddenly gone bashful. You can’t help but feel a boost in your ego. Could it be that Stan is shy? You make it a point to tease him for the remainder of the interview.

“What’s something funny or unexpected that happened on set?”

“Oh, there were so many moments,” you start. “One time, we were filming this really serious scene, and out of nowhere, a bird flew into the set and landed right on Sebastian’s shoulder.”

Sebastian laughs. “Yeah, I had no idea what to do. I just froze, and then Y/N started making bird noises to try and get it to fly away.”

You laugh, nodding. “It took a good ten minutes to get back into character after that. Everyone was cracking up.”

The interviewer grins. “That sounds hilarious. It’s great to hear that you all had such a good time. Speaking of moments on set, were there any funny or awkward moments while filming the more romantic or intimate scenes?”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow, smirking. “Oh, plenty. Like the time we were shooting that kiss scene in the rain, and Y/N kept slipping on the wet pavement.”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Hey, it was slippery! You were the one who can’t stop laughing during takes.”

Sebastian laughs. “True, true. But come on, we both know it was because you were so nervous about kissing me.” You notice him biting back.

You gasp in mock offense. “Excuse me, I was not nervous! I was just...distracted by how ridiculously good-looking you are. It’s hard to concentrate when you have that face right in front of you.” He smiles uncontrollably again, feeling defeated by your nonchalance. He wonders, how are you so good at this?

The interviewer laughs, clearly enjoying the banter. “So, who do you think had the hardest time keeping a straight face during those scenes?”

You both point at each other simultaneously, then laugh.

Sebastian leans back, shaking his head. “Definitely Y/N. There was this one scene where we were supposed to be having this deep, romantic conversation, and she just couldn’t stop giggling.”

You nudge him playfully. “Well, you weren’t helping with all your ad-libs! You kept whispering things like, ‘Is that your stomach growling or are you just happy to see me?’”

Sebastian laughs. “Hey, I was trying to lighten the mood! And let’s not forget the scene where we had to stare into each other’s eyes for what felt like an eternity. I swear, Y/N, you blink more than anyone I know.”

You smirk. “Only because I was trying to avoid getting lost in those baby blues of yours.” At this point, Sebastian was laughing hard, but feeling nervous at your jokes. He secretly wished it were all real, his ears were red and hot. He’s already thinking of how to approach you after the interview and get himself out of the friend zone which he didn’t even thought he’d be in, having found a new interest in you. 

The interviewer looks between the two of you, amused. “It sounds like you both had a lot of fun with it. Do you think all that chemistry will translate to the screen?”

Sebastian nods. “Oh, definitely. I think our off-screen dynamic really helped make the on-screen relationship feel more genuine. Plus, Y/N here is an amazing actress. She made it easy.”

You smile, feeling a bit bashful. “Well, Sebastian’s not too bad himself. It’s hard not to enjoy working with someone who’s so talented and, let’s be honest, ridiculously attractive.” 

Here she goes again .Sebastian grins. “Right back at you. But let’s be real, we’re both just incredibly good-looking people trying to make a movie here.” The internet is gonna have a field day.

The interviewer laughs. “Sounds like a tough job! Any last funny or romantic moments you’d like to share?”

You think for a moment. “There was this one scene where we had to dance together. Neither of us are professional dancers, so there were a lot of missteps and toe-stepping. But it ended up being one of the sweetest scenes because it felt so real and unpolished.”

Sebastian nods. “Yeah, that was a great scene. It was supposed to be this perfectly choreographed dance, but it turned into us just goofing around and having fun. I think it really captured the essence of our characters' relationship.”

The interviewer smiles, clearly delighted by your stories. “Well, thank you both for sharing these wonderful moments. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.”

As you and Sebastian leave the interview room, you head towards the lobby where a few other cast members are mingling. The energy is still high from the fun and laughter of the interview. Sebastian nudges you playfully as you walk.

“Hey, remember in the interview when you called me incredibly good-looking and charismatic?” he teases, a mischievous glint in his eye.

You roll your eyes, grinning. “Oh, come on. Don’t let it go to your head, Stan.”

He chuckles. “Too late. I’m pretty sure I’m going to bring that up every chance I get now.”

“You would,” you laugh, shaking your head. “ It’s not like I was lying.”

Sebastian stops walking, turning to face you. “Well, thank you. And for the record, you’re pretty incredible yourself. Both on screen and off.”

You feel a warm blush creeping up your cheeks, putting a palm to your chest as if to continue the gag. “Thanks, Seb. That means a lot.”

He smiles, his eyes softening. “No, really, it’s been really great working with you. I think we make a pretty good team.”

“I think so too,” you agree, feeling a flutter in your stomach, you realize he’s actually serious now. There’s a moment of silence as you both just look at each other, the playful teasing from earlier now replaced with something more tender.

Sebastian breaks the silence first. “So, what do you say we celebrate wrapping up the promotion tour? Maybe dinner tonight?”

You raise an eyebrow, teasingly. “Is this your way of asking me out, Stan?”

He grins, a little sheepishly. “Maybe it is. What do you think?”

You pretend to think about it for a moment, then nod. “I think it sounds like a great idea.”

“Perfect,” he says, looking genuinely pleased. “I’ll pick you up at eight?”

“Eight it is."

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[nadvs]

home before dark (part three)

pairing rafe cameron x kook! female reader

rating mature 18+

summary as children, you and rafe were best friends, but then tragedy suddenly struck his family and he shut everybody out. years later, you need his help when a pushy ex-boyfriend won’t leave you alone. rafe is perfect for the job because everybody’s afraid of him. except for you.

content warnings stalker ex, violence, substance abuse, death and mourning of parent

» masterlist

· · ── ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ── · ·

Rafe is sitting in a chair in the front room of your home, his chin resting on his hand, hardly paying any attention to the sitcom playing on the tv screen.

He’s pissed off. Why did it have to storm tonight of all nights, when he doesn’t have anything to numb the pain, nothing to drown out the sound of the rain drumming on the windows?

In his haste, he didn’t pack any coke before coming here. He didn’t think he’d need it this bad.

And that photo he saw upstairs. It’s making everything so much fucking worse.

This is how the world repays him for helping someone. Figures. He’s used to having shit luck. Trying to make his own father love him has been a losing game, and he’s been at that for years, so why would anything else go his way?

“Hey.” Rafe straightens when he hears you. You look into the room. “Did the thunder wake you up, too?”

He hasn’t slept at all. But he nods.

There’s a blankness in his stare, the tv casting dull colors over his face. He didn’t bother to turn the light on.

You cross the room, hazy from your interrupted sleep, and settle on the couch. You’re far away from him, acting like you’ve never touched, even though you were just pressed against each other on his motorcycle.

You wonder if it felt nice to him, too. Or if you were just extra weight on his bike, an irritating responsibility he was cornered into taking on.

“Do you have any booze around here?” Rafe mutters. You catch the desolation in his tone.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

You instantly feel ridiculous for expecting you won’t be met with the cold shoulder. You doubt he’ll answer. But then, because the world must be off its axis, he does.

“Fucking hate this weather,” he says.

His words make a chill sink into your bones. You remember your father telling you the news years ago after he got the phone call. A torrential downpour. The freeway. Zero visibility.

Anne lost control of her car.

By the look on your dad’s face, you knew what that meant. Rafe’s mother didn’t survive the wreck.

He doesn’t have to say it. You know that’s why he hates storms.

“I can distract you,” you offer, “if you want?”

It was something you did as kids. Rafe would be angry or sad or hurt or anything and you’d talk his ear off about whatever you could think of until the dark cloud hanging over him drifted away.

His feelings always felt too big for him. You were the best at making them small enough to manage.

Rafe is used to wanting to be left alone. But not right now. Not if he can be with you. Admitting it feels impossible. The wall he spent years building around himself is solid from both sides.

“It’s your house,” he finally says. “Do what you want.”

You take it an invitation to stay. You turn your attention to the tv, as if holding eye contact with him will make him take it back.

It gives him a chance to look at you. How the fuck have you not lost patience with him yet? Why do you still care?

“I keep wanting to ask why you’re helping me,” you say, just loud enough to be heard over the tv.

Rafe exhales sharply, rubbing his forehead.

“This is you distracting me,” he scoffs. “Aren’t you supposed to do the talking?”

The fact that he’s expecting you to replicate the days of your youth gives you a sliver of hope that maybe he misses them, too.

“There has to be a reason you’re doing it,” you murmur.

“Can’t you just be happy that I am?” he responds. A white flash of lighting pools into the room for a split second.

“No,” you say. Finally, he gives in.

“Because I…” he begins.

The noise from the show is adding to the frustrating confusion engulfing him. He angrily picks up the remote and turns the tv off, plunging both of you in darkness.

You turn your head towards him again, only able to make out the hard outline of his jaw.

“I always had to look out for you,” he says. “I guess I still do.”

You look down at your lap, taken aback that Rafe holds any sense of loyalty for you.

You almost want to remind him of what he said earlier, that you’re not kids anymore, but you don’t want to challenge him.

“And I don’t know why,” he adds, voice thin, “but you’re not a dick to me like everyone else is, so I kind of owe you.”

All you can hear is your own breathing and the ticking of the clock in the foyer and the tap of faltering raindrops. The storm is passing.

“It’s because you didn’t do anything wrong,” you say into the silence. “It’s not like you did something to make me hate you. You shut me out, but I get why.”

Your words reverberate through him. He wonders if you think that he hates you.

Still, you could have gone to any other guy and asked him to pretend to be your boyfriend.

“Why’d you come to me?” he asks.

“Because he’s scared of you.” You don’t have to nor do you want to say your ex’s name.

“And you’re not?”

“No.” You tilt your head. “We used to be best friends.”

You say it like he wouldn’t remember. He couldn’t erase it from his brain if he tried. And he has.

The heaviness of all this is suffocating to him. The past is done. There’s no point in digging up things that’ll just hurt him all over again.

He stands up, chasing out the familiarity that was slowly growing between you. But before he leaves the room, he pauses, pinching the bridge of his nose with trembling fingers.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, either, alright?” Rafe says into the dark, irritated, answering the question you asked him on the shoreline hours ago. “Not on purpose.”

As his shadow retreats, the words he left you with ring in your head. He doesn’t blame you. But you did do something wrong.

Rafe had his head buried into his pillow, throat burning from crying through his grief, every night for months.

As he lies in an unfamiliar bed all for a girl whose very existence makes him feel a multitude of good and bad all at once, he’s thrown back into those days, as if he’s a boy again.

His mother used to tell him it was a strength to be so sensitive, but her voice faded and his father’s voice got so much louder. What he tells him every time Rafe can’t swallow down the tears echoes in his mind. Toughen up. You’re fine.

But he’s not fine. He can’t stop crying and he knows he has to tell you he can’t do this anymore. Being with you brings back too much.

But the next morning, when Rafe finds you sitting at the kitchen island, wearing your pajamas and a smile, the prospect of ending this is tossed away.

You have access to him that nobody else does. You and that damn smile are a weakness that he didn’t know he had. And while he can act happy and careless around everyone else, he can’t put on an act for you. Ever.

“How’d you sleep?” you ask. Your hands are cupping a mug, your phone sitting beside it.

“Like shit,” Rafe replies, pacing to the fridge. “Took hours to fall asleep.”

You feel guilty that he didn’t have a good rest, considering he’s only here because you were too frightened to be alone.

“You?” he says after a beat. The ice must be melting if he’s actually asking about you for once.

“My sleep was good,” you reply. “It helped having you here.”

Rafe’s cheeks get warm. Someone actually wanting him around is a foreign feeling.

By the time your conversation was over last night, the rain and thunder had dwindled. It couldn’t have been the storm keeping him awake. Curiosity pushes you to figure it out.

“Was the bed uncomfortable?” you ask.

“No,” he answers. He finds a glass and fills it with water. His throat still hurts from crying last night.

You watch him, his presence commanding as he leans back against the counter opposite you. The dark, shallow bags beneath his eyes are illuminated in the bright lights above you. He looks exhausted.

“Was the room too warm? Or too cold?” you say.

“Can you relax?” Rafe huffs, his tone almost playful.

He isn’t about to admit that he can’t remember the last time he fell asleep sober. And he’s definitely not going to tell you that the last thing he thought about before finally passing out was that his cheeks burned from how hard he was wiping his tears away.

“The least I can do is make sure you’re comfortable since I made you stay the night,” you say.

His brows furrow as he takes a long gulp, tipping his head back.

“Nobody can make me do anything,” he replies once he downs the water. You know it’s the truth. It makes the fact that he’s doing this for you all the more meaningful.

Before you can respond, your phone buzzes loudly on the countertop. Rafe sees your face fall when your eyes drop to the screen. You read the notification for a moment, then sigh and shake your head.

“He emailed me,” you say incredulously. “I blocked him on everything and he emailed me.”

Rafe leans over to see if you’ll let him look for himself. You slide your phone towards him and he picks it up to read Ty’s message.

What you have with him isn’t real. We both know it. Let me prove that I can treat you how you deserve. Please. I’m sorry for everything. I love you.

A part of Rafe is concerned you’ll fall for it.

“What’re you gonna do?” he asks.

“Block him there, too,” you mutter. “He does this. He’s mean, then he pretends like he changed, then he’s mean again… It’s the same bullshit over and over.”

Rafe blocks him for you and places your phone on the counter. You bite the inside of your cheek as the dread you always feel when Ty contacts you floods your every sense.

The despair on your face makes Rafe’s stomach sink. The next time he sees Ty, he’s beating the shit out of him.

“He’ll stop, okay? I’ll make him,” he says.

You’re still skeptical. Rafe definitely scares him, but Ty called him a bullshit rebound last night. He wrote that what you have with Rafe isn’t real. You’re not fooling him. And you’re afraid he won’t leave you alone until he believes you’re actually in a new relationship now.

“Yeah.” You exhale slowly. “Doesn’t sound like he’s falling for this, though.” You motion between you and him.

Rafe has to take a moment to catch your meaning. Falling for this. Your pretend relationship. Right.

“I didn’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say, afraid it somehow got out. “Did you?”

Rafe shakes his head no and puts his empty glass in the sink. He scratches the back of his neck and looks at you again.

“Do you want me to keep crashing here until your mom and dad get back?” he asks.

You hate that your mind goes there, but you wonder when the last time he said mom out loud was. You shake away the thought.

“Not if you can’t get any actual sleep,” you respond.

Rafe typically gets irritated when someone can’t make up their mind. He wants everything done quickly, so he doesn’t have to stop and think.

But this is you and even though you’re scared of sleeping on your own, you’re considering how staying here affects Rafe and it gives him a heavy feeling of shame. He spent years avoiding the only person who never abandoned him. The only person who still gives a shit.

“I’ll just leave my stuff here,” he says, making the decision for you.

“Thank you.” You mean it. The thought of someone being here with you is comforting.

As usual, Rafe ends the conversation quickly and abruptly, leaving the room. You soon hear the engine of his motorcycle rattling loudly from outside, the roar fading as he drives away.

You hoped that he’d at least want to hang out with you now. You don’t understand why you keep expecting more from him. It just hurts you every time.

You don’t hear from Ty for the rest of the day. You manage to run some errands without worrying you’ll see him because even when Rafe isn’t with you, you don’t feel as scared knowing he’s in your corner.

The days of the week mean practically nothing on the north side of the island over the summer. There’s a party almost every night, this time at a house just down the street from you.

You invite your friends to your place, drinking as you get ready, deciding to walk over to the party. You turn up already tipsy, finding yourself looking for Rafe even though you know you should only really be doing that if Ty is bothering you.

When you walk into the loud, crowded house, seeing you reminds Rafe of why he isn’t smoking or drinking or snorting anything tonight.

He’s had countless fights while wasted, but he wants to have a clear mind when he sees Ty. He needs to make the fucker pay and not give him a chance to get even one punch in.

You meet Rafe’s blue eyes every so often throughout the night, glad you’re finally able to have fun again because you know he’s keeping you safe.

The second Ty walks in, even though he hasn’t come close to approaching you, you make your way to Rafe.

You stand close to him, placing your hand in his, acting like a girlfriend to someone who is only doing this because he feels an overdue sense of loyalty to you.

Rafe stills for a moment before he laces his fingers with yours. His skin is hot, making your heart flutter in a way you know it shouldn’t.

“Hey,” you say over the music. His ring presses against your thumb.

“Hey,” he says tensely. He’s not used to affection, especially in front of people.

But this is what he signed up for. He needs to act like a boyfriend and he’s not going to fuck this up. It’s the first real responsibility he’s had that he actually gives a shit about.

His eyes land on Ty and his plan to confront him takes a backseat when he realizes he doesn’t want to let go of you. Right now, he’d rather have his hand in yours instead of using it to throw a punch. It’s like every touch you give him leaves a heavier impact than the last.

You immediately notice how tense Rafe is.

“Can you relax?” you joke, imitating the way he said it this morning. Your heart warms when his dimples appear, framing a smile he can’t stifle.

“I don’t sound like that,” he says.

“You sound exactly like that,” you reply with a laugh, picturing how tired he looked in your kitchen. “Please tell me you got some sleep today.”

Again, the concern you seem to have never lost for him appears.

“I did,” he says. He crashed in his bed the second he got home.

“How come it took you so long to fall asleep last night?”

Rafe’s knee-jerk reaction is to avoid the question. Especially if it’s you asking. But he can’t forget how shitty it felt when you brushed him off last night at the beach, so he pushes himself to answer.

“Just, uh…” He looks away. “Couldn’t turn off my brain.”

You gaze up at him. It almost aches, how badly you’d love to know what goes through his mind.

“When did this start?” one of his friends amusedly asks, pointing between you two. You notice Ty close by, his gaze sharp as he eavesdrops. Rafe notices him, too.

You squeeze Rafe’s hand tighter, clinging to him. He notices that his entire body buzzes when you do that.

“What, was I supposed to call you?” Rafe responds.

“I’m just saying,” his friend replies with a laugh, “it’s like all of a sudden, you got a girl out of nowhere.”

Alarm stings every inch of your skin when you notice Ty’s posture straighten in your peripheral.

“Don’t sound so surprised, asshole,” Rafe replies lightheartedly, gently pulling his hand out of your grasp to drape his heavy arm around your shoulders, pulling you flush against him.

You follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his torso. The relief from how well he played it off and the comfort you get from how he’s holding you is overwhelming.

Rafe dips his head to speak into your ear, his cheek brushing against yours, his cologne fresh.

“Think he’s falling for it now?” he mumbles, voice lowering an octave. With the way he’s holding you, you might fall for it yourself.

“Yeah,” you breathe. You squeeze him tighter, not for show, but because you want to. You’ve wanted to hug him since the funeral, when he was a boy with bloodshot eyes in a crumpled black suit, but he never let you get this close.

He brings his other hand up to your face, cradling your jaw, his thumb rubbing over your cheek. His touch is so tender that you have to remind yourself it’s Rafe doing this.

You’re suspended, bodies curved together, cheeks brushing, like you’re playing a game to see who’ll let go first.

“And he’s staying away from you, right?” His breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

You nod, at a loss for words.

“Is he watching?” he asks. You can see from the corner of your eye that your ex is staring right at you.

“Mhm,” you hum with a nod.

At this point, Rafe is being selfish. This is close enough. You wanted him to act like you’re a couple and he’s done it. He can pull away now. Maybe he should keep his arm around you for a little longer, but he doesn’t need to be this close.

Instead, he lowers to press his lips against your cheek and you hug him tighter, and fuck, it feels so good that he misses it before it’s even over.

He can’t believe that his body yearns to be this close to you. You opened up the floodgates the second you put your hand on him the first time a couple of nights ago. How good would it feel if you were doing it for real?

You lean into his kiss. His lips are so soft. You wish you could feel them against yours. It’s all to make everyone think you’re actually together. You keep telling yourself that.

When your arms around him weaken just a little, you feel something at his back, protruding against your forearm.

Your eyebrows draw together as you pull back only a few inches to meet Rafe’s eyes, your mind going to the worst possible scenario. Your breath catches. It’s a weapon.

“What is that?” you ask quietly, nudging against the hard item tucked into the band of his jeans.

“What do you think?”

“Rafe,” you say. His jaw tightens. The moment is gone. The wall is back up. Your tone teeters on a thin edge, like you’re judging him.

“You’re surprised the psycho owns a gun?” he scoffs.

He didn’t brush off what Ty said like you thought he did. It makes your stomach turn that your ex’s lie actually stuck with Rafe.

You glance over to see Ty’s back as he storms out of the room. Part of you is relieved, but right now, you mostly feel anxious that Rafe believes a lie.

“I never called you that,” you reiterate to him quietly. “I’ve never said anything bad about you. You think you can trust what he says?”

“I’m not planning on using it on him, okay?” Rafe snaps. “Unless he asks for it.”

He wishes you didn’t notice it. If you didn’t think he was fucked up before, you do now. He’s pissed off and embarrassed and disappointed all at once.

You’ve been trying to reconnect with him for so long. If he gives in, you’ll see that he’s not even close to who he was when you knew him. He’ll just let you down.

He realizes he hasn’t kept his distance only because you’re a painful reminder of a time he wants to forget. It’s also because he’s sure you wouldn’t like who he’s become. And he can’t take the rejection.

You’re still, unable to believe that he actually has a gun. That he would use it. That these are the lengths he’s going to to keep you safe.

You haven’t lost contact with him, but Rafe checks out of the moment and pulls his arm away.

“He’s gone now,” he mutters. You get the message. He’s done pretending. You drop your arms and find your friends again.

Hours later, the party is dwindling, but far from over. Rafe has been sober the entire time, making him all the more antsy and irritable.

He thought he’d beat the shit out of Ty tonight, but he’s exhausted and he can’t stop shaking. Why the hell is he shaking?

Rafe loses his patience and approaches you while you’re dancing with your friends.

“Let’s go,” he says, holding your hand. The contact makes your head spin all over again. Even though you’d like to stay, you comply.

You notice Ty’s eyes on you when you leave. He’s pretending to be a good guy again, keeping his distance, but you know it’s only a matter of time before he cracks.

Once you reach Rafe’s motorcycle in the cool night air, he hands you his helmet and you take it without hesitation.

After the short drive, you walk up the steps to your front door together. But you soon stop in your tracks, eyes wide as you stare at the ground.

Rafe follows your eye line. Mud’s been tracked onto the porch in fragmented footprints.

“I can’t… I can’t remember if that was there before,” you stammer. “Did you see it this morning?”

“I don’t know,” he responds. He rushed out of here too quickly to have noticed something like that.

You look around, as if you can find an answer in the darkness surrounding your home. You would have noticed it after you ran your errands earlier today. Probably. Maybe.

It could have been you. Or Rafe. Or one of your friends.

Or Ty. He didn’t arrive at the party until late into the night. Could he have been creeping around your house? Why would he?

Rafe glances up to confirm that there aren’t any cameras aiming at the door. It pisses him off when he notices there aren’t any cameras at all. He quickly catches on that your breathing has grown faster.

“Come on,” he says, gently pulling you by the crook of your elbow. “Let’s go inside. It’s nothing.”

He doesn’t believe his own words, but there’s no reason to scare you any further.

“What if he was here?” you say, letting Rafe pull you to the door. He takes the key out of your hand and pushes it into the lock.

“Then I’ll shoot him,” he mutters.

“That’s not funny.”

“I wasn’t joking.”

The door swings open, prompting the security system to start beeping.

You flip on the light and enter the code as he shuts the door behind you. You’re so frightened and unnerved that you jam one of the buttons with the wrong finger, prompting a harsh error noise from the system.

“Can you do this?” you huff. You tell Rafe the five-digit code and he quickly enters it, arming the system again. You notice his hand is trembling.

“Are you okay?” you ask. You know it’s not from fear. Rafe isn’t afraid of anything. He must be high on something. “What’d you take?”

“Nothing,” he says with a humorless laugh. It dawns on him that his body is reacting to the lack of coke in his system. “That’s the problem.”

“What?” you ask.

Rafe sighs, double-checking that the front door is locked for your peace of mind.

“I can’t be wasted if that asshole tries me. I haven’t taken anything since last night,” he says. “But it just made shit worse.”

He realizes how messed up it sounds. How messed up it is that being sober for one night makes him shake like this. He has a problem. But he never really had a reason to get clean before now.

You watch Rafe checking the lock and like a riptide, everything crashes down on you at once.

The torment from Ty harassing you. The guilt from asking Rafe to take on this responsibility. The sadness from knowing that he’s only doing it because he feels a sense of obligation for you and wants nothing more.

“Bet you’re glad I have a gun now,” Rafe mutters. He turns to look at you, your expression grim. “What?”

“I don’t want to keep bothering you with this,” you admit, your heart racing with panic. “I don’t want you to have to sleep here and I don’t want you to have to drive me home all the time and… I hate that this is happening and that I had to drag you into it.”

His eyes travel over the anguish etched on your face.

“What, like it’s your fault he’s a piece of shit?” he says.

You chew on the inside of your cheek and look up to the ceiling, trying to keep your tears at bay. It’s still odd being alone with him, having him in your home.

Rafe hasn’t tried to make someone feel better in a long time. He hasn’t cared enough to. He takes a deep breath.

“I don’t mind doing this, alright?” he says.

“You don’t?” You take in the softness in his eyes that you don’t often see.

“Think I’d be here if I did?”

“I don’t know,” you say. “You used to do things you didn’t want to all the time for me.”

The Rafe that was your best friend always went along with whatever you wanted to play, wherever you wanted to go.

He grits his teeth, tearing his eyes off of you, trying not to think about how when he was a kid, if someone asked him who his favorite person was, he’d tell them that it was a tie between you and his mom.

“Don’t talk about how shit used to be,” he says quietly. And because he doesn’t want to see that hurt look on your face again, he adds, “Please.”

The mere prospect of talking about the past seems to actually give him pain. It dawns on you that you’re looking at a man who may have never processed what happened to him.

“Do you want something to eat?” you offer, changing the subject swiftly.

Rafe realizes he’s starving.

“Yeah,” he says.

A memory washes over you as Rafe sits at your kitchen counter, eating leftovers you heated up for him.

It was a humid summer day and you two were scarfing down the lunch his mother made for you after a morning of swimming behind his house.

Rafe always liked picking the wildflowers that grew in the grass that lined the beach for his mom. The ones he found that day were purple, sitting in a small vase she put in the center of the dining room table.

Every time he gave her a small bundle of uneven flowers, she had the same joyful reaction. Rafe always looked so proud of himself when she enthusiastically thanked her son.

It was just another happy day.

Until Ward came into the kitchen and like always, Rafe’s smile disappeared. Your best friend tended to shrink when his dad was around. Ward almost always found something to chide his son about. He never spoke like that to his daughters.

“Could you eat any faster?” Ward muttered. “Where are your manners?”

“Leave him alone, Ward,” Anne said with a sigh. His mother’s tone was only ever sharp when she was defending her little boy.

You remember watching her lean to kiss Rafe’s head, earning a small smile from him. Then she winked at you, trying to dismiss the tension from the room.

You wonder what Ward has said to Rafe ever since he lost the only person who stuck up for him.

You face the sink as you wash your hands, your back to Rafe, trying to stifle the tears that build as you imagine what the world would be like if the wreck never happened. Who would Rafe be if he never lost her? If a part of him didn’t die with her?

Is it crazy to think that you’d still be best friends, instead of two strangers pushed together in such an arduous situation? You miss her so much that it hurts and all this is yet another thing adding to the weight sitting on your shoulders.

Rafe hears you sniffle and when you finally turn around, you stare at the floor as you try to rush away.

“What is it?” he asks. Is he already failing at making you feel safe?

You freeze. You can’t tell him what’s really bothering you. Especially since he asked you not to talk about your memories.

“I’m just freaked out.” It’s not exactly what you’re thinking of now, but it’s true. This mess with Ty is a nightmare. “If he was really creeping around here… Ugh, I don’t know what he’s going to do next.”

Rafe chews slower as he observes you through narrow eyes. He’s no stranger to the pain of crying to sleep. He doesn’t want that for you.

You notice his hands are still trembling. You have no idea how often he does coke, but it must be an addiction if one night without it makes his body react like this.

“What else do you need?” he asks. It comes out sharper than he intended, like he’s asking what else you could possibly want from him after he’s given you so much.

Your lips thin as you stare at him from across the counter. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone look so miserable.

“Nothing,” you mutter. “Good night.”

You start to walk away but Rafe says your name to stop you and it sounds so good coming out of his mouth that your stomach numbs. When was the last time he said it?

You turn to look at him. His eyes dart down to his food.

“What if…” he begins, his fork loudly clattering against the dish. “Would it help if I slept in your room?”

You’re surprised. And soothed by the thought of him sleeping close by in case your ex does something as unhinged as break in.

Everyone else paints Rafe as rude and aggressive, but you knew it. You knew he still had some kindness in him.

“Yeah,” you say. “It would help.”

(part four)

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[rainrot4me]

Outrun, Undone

Summary: Your body hurt, heaving and clawing to escape. They were catching up, laughter echoing through the dense trees as you ran, praying for your stamina to hold. But you knew you weren’t fast enough, and so did they…

Characters: Masky & Hoodie x Female Reader

SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI

TW: Chasing, predator and prey, primal sex, blood, injury, fear, threesome, double penetration, vaginal fingering, anal, blowjob, vaginal, overstimulation, power play, fighting, aggression, mocking, degradation, forced submission, pussy spanking, oral fixation

Words: 8.2k

Fight or flight is described as an instinctual reaction that occurs when the body perceives a threat, rallying for survival. Psychologically, it changes you, gripping for any out or sense of security as it pushes its own comfortability. It’s primal, animalistic, and desperate; mind clawing for any serenity. Your mind and body were screaming, like every inch of your consciousness was being ripped apart the harder you fought. You wanted to cry and scream and get away, but they wouldn’t let you. They were going to make sure you lost this bet.

The ground was damp, mulch and rocks lodged into your knees as you clattered to the dirt, heaving for breath. You didn’t remember which direction you were trying to go, but it didn’t matter as you pushed your aching body up, lunging back into a sprint. Rain and fog blurred your senses, the stout smell of wet earth suffocating you with every labored gasp. 

The woods felt like they went on forever, large pines and ominous maples cutting off your direction and forcing you into a maze, the schlick of mud under your shoes echoing with every quick step. You were soaked with sweat and rain, hair clinging annoyingly to your face and blocking your vision. Your clothes felt heavy on your skin, making it hard not to get overstimulated and tired. “Fuck-” You gasped, rounding a mound of roots to find a patch of brambles, head spinning and looking for another direction. The loud thumping of boots was heavy behind you, branches and leaves snapping as you heard hollers paired with eager laughter calling out your name, searching for you. There was no other direction. You hauled forward.

It was your fault, really. You roused them on, claiming stealth and agility were better tactics for a killer than brute force and power. The boys chuckled, arms crossed and stupid grins shining as they teased. It was always so odd to see them without their masks, especially in such good moods. 

“Oh yeah? And who says that?” Masky poked at you, leaning back into the door of the rental truck you had all lived in for the past week. This mission was exhausting, another hitman job for the Operator that you really couldn’t bring yourself to be passionate about. The boys weren’t too thrilled either. Sleeping cramped into a single cab as the only girl was devastating. The smell of no showers and lack of proper meals was getting to you now, a two-day headache pounding at the base of your skull and making you nauseous. At least they let you have the back seat to yourself.

“Uh, says the one who’s gunned down more than both of you?” You scoffed, kicking some gravel from the campsite parking lot. “Don’t you ever notice how I’m the one having to pick off the stragglers when you two come in guns blazing? I swear, you two only think with your revolvers instead of your actual brains.” 

Hoodie chuckled, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he leaned against the truck bed. “These brains don’t do much thinking anymore anyways.” You rolled your eyes, “Obviously.” Looking out across the field meant for hunting, a dense treeline hung just over the clearing as the sun began to set, deep oranges and pinks pushing through the leaves. You couldn’t remember what state you were in, somewhere north and cold, early autumn setting in as the breeze whipped against your cheeks. It was going to rain tonight, you could see it in the way the leaves upturned, the thick smell of distant downpours on the bark stirring in the air. “Just saying. I could outrun you both and still have the energy to take down someone. You two wouldn’t last a second without your precious little weapons strapped to your hip.”

The boys tensed, eyes narrowing as they looked at each other, a silent challenge welling up. “How about a game then? Put your little stealth tactic to the test.” Masky huffed, a stupid grin matching the eagerness in his eyes. Hoodie nodded along, pushing off the truck bed as he stepped closer, his boots crunching into the gravel. 

“The woods out there. It’s only about fifty acres worth, but it’s dense. Good enough for hide and seek, huh?” Hoodie’s voice sounded a little more chipper than his usual monotonous one, laced with excitement and almost giddy. “We’ll give you ten minutes, put your money where your mouth is. If we can’t find you, we’ll buy you a hotel room for the rest of the trip.” You glared, heart thumping at the idea of finally getting a shower and some heat, fingers fidgeting at your sides. “But, when we catch you, and we will, who knows what we’ll ask for?” Masky shrugged cockily. “Guess we’ll be thinking about it while you’re runnin’.”

The boys pressed forward, shoulder to shoulder as they stared down at you, nauseating smiles making your heartache. You glanced back to the tree line. Crossing your arms, you rolled your eyes, stupidly accepting their bet. You were going to win, you knew you were, but all they could do was smile. “Ten minutes starts now, sweetheart.” Hoodie fiddled with his old-style military wristwatch, wiping the glass as he clicked some buttons to start a timer.

“So I just… start runni-”

“Fifty-nine, fifty-eight, fifty-seven…” You tensed, taking steps back before spinning on your heels, zipping your jacket up as you began to run, slipping into the trees.

-

When you began to run, that’s when the excitement truly swept in. 

The ten minutes had long passed, your feet carrying you deep into an unfamiliar forest where every tree looked the same. But you had to keep going, if for nothing else, then to create distance.

It was getting too dark to see, the sun hanging low on the horizon and dense night setting in. The silhouettes of trees stretched ahead, endless in every direction. There was no trail or path to follow, only the thick underbrush and ferns that whipped at your legs as you ran, branches scratching your skin. You had no clue where you were going.

The rain had begun as well, thick droplets soaking your clothes and face, making your hair cling to your skin. Your legs burned, muscles tensing as you dodged trees, mud clinging to your shoes the further you went, your breath already quickening. When you reached a small clearing, you paused, catching your breath as you searched the shadows, listening intently for any signs of movement. Nothing caught your attention besides the heavy patterns of rainfall, leaves, and branches whipping in the wind as you set off again, catching your pace. 

Adrenaline couldn’t differentiate this from real danger. You dealt with these boys every day, watching how they worked and killed, studying their every move. But now that you were on the other side of the fight, there was no clue just how real they were going to make it. You knew they wouldn’t kill you. They were all for bets, but they weren’t sore losers. They might catch you, they might hurt you, but they wouldn’t kill you. And, somehow, that excited you.

There was something so rousing about playing the victim for once. It made you feel vulnerable and small, but oh did it make you desperate.

Climbing over a fallen pine and sliding down the short ridge beyond it, you crouched close to the ground, pressing close to the roots and bushes as you caught your breath again. You had to think one step ahead, had to conserve your energy; any chance for a break was a good one. They wanted a chance, so you’d give them a chase. But you had to be smart too.

Snap.

You froze, slow breaths shaking as the condensation fogged at your mouth. You clenched close to the ground, careful not to move as you heard the thumps of boots more clearly now, a matching pair. You clenched your jaw, bracing your hands against the side of a tree as their voices grew too.

“Come on, little mouse,” Masky called out, the giddiness in his voice making you cringe. “You’re not very good at hiding your tracks.” Shit. The rainfall had roused the ground with mud, your imprints being left everywhere and leading right to where you crouched. You had to move.

Rain and sweat dripped off your nose, teeth clenched as you shook, the cold breeze cutting against your skin. Your pupils blew wide as you scanned the ground, snaking your body up quietly as you took eager steps in the opposite direction of the boys. The mud squelched, your body aching as you pushed off the tree, steadying your pace back into a jog to not make too much noise. You heaved, letting your pace grow the further you got, the small steps turning into a desperate sprint as you whipped through the trees, the wind burning your cheeks raw. You were panting, sucking deep breaths of air, and fighting against the strain in your chest.

“There!” You cursed, Hoodie’s voice ringing through the trees as you sprinted, fists clenched as you dug your feet into the ground. In your attempt to get away, you had done exactly what you wanted to avoid, catching their attention. You heard the sound of their boots taking heavy steps in the distance, far enough but definitely still too close for comfort. Your heart thumped, adrenaline pumping. You tried to look back, to gauge just how far they were, just how fast you needed to run. You couldn’t see when your ankle snapped against a root popped from the ground, flinging your body down.

The ground was damp, mulch and rocks lodged into your knees as you clattered to the dirt, heaving for breath. You didn’t remember which direction you were trying to go, but it didn’t matter as you pushed your aching body up, lunging back into a sprint. Rain and fog blurred your senses, the stout smell of wet earth suffocating you with every labored gasp. You groaned, palms and clothes covered in mud and grass, your chest aching from the abrupt contact. The boys howled with excitement, their chanting and loud laughs making you nervous, and desperate to get away. The worst part, however, was the fact they had now put on their masks.

The three of you had grown comfortable, there was no desire to cover their faces around each other, saving the covers for jobs. But now, the stupid masks were snugged on, concealing their expression and making this situation all the more terrifying. Now, you realize they saw you as a job, a mission to catch and take, no longer just a little game. You wanted to cry, the anger shooting through your veins as you ran, heaving for air and distance, your brain screaming to get away. They were going to catch you.

You were so used to being on the other side. You were the one chasing, the one seizing runaways. But, something about being the one having to get away, the thought of you fighting within an inch of your life against your friends. It got you stirred in the worst kind of way.

You sprinted, half-running half-sliding down the steepening slope, your shoes catching on vines and mud as you went. You had no clue where you were going or why the terrain was suddenly changing, but you continued to press forward, feet flinging out from under you as you sprinted. The slope picked up, rocks and thicker soil breaking under your steps, clattering down the side of the hill you were pressing down, leaning back to claw into the mud as you lost your footing, pummeling down. Your foot caught on a root, hauling your shoe off your foot and snapping your body with it.

You met the clearing at the bottom face-first.

You landed hard, a thick stream of water splashing against your face as you gasped. The air knocked from your lungs, rolling onto your back as the water flowed around you, the tiny stream picking up from the rain. Rocks and moss stuck to your clothes, your teeth grit as your chest ached. You had to get up, you had to keep running.

But the chuckles from above you made you whine, footsteps crunching down the muddy slope as they paced just out of your sight. “Aww, think before you run. Don’t go panicking now.” You could hear the smile in Hoodie’s voice despite your dizziness. 

Out of pure adrenaline, you shoved yourself up, looking towards the slope, but finding nothing there. You spun on your heels, surveying the trees and sides of the hill, nothing sticking out. You hissed, looking down towards your hands as dirt sunk into the cuts, your palms torn and bleeding down your wrists, mixing with the rain. Your socks were soaked with mud, your feet aching and pounding with pain as your foot had been welted raw. But you couldn’t find them. For how large and annoying they were, you couldn't find them. You had to keep moving.

Turning away from the slope, you dug your heels in, pushing away from the stream. It was hard to focus, hard to keep your mind from spinning as you clawed, legs burning every step they ran. Your head felt light, too nauseated to notice the flash of yellow in your direction. 

A hand seized around your throat from behind, the other gripping into your hair as you cried out. You flung, fighting back against the tight grasp Masky held, kicking your knees. How the hell had he gotten to you? You swung your arms, reaching back to claw at the fists wrapped around you, elbow flying back to make contact with his ribs.

Masky gasped, grunting heavily as how grip loosened, reaching for his side. You slammed back hard, taking the opportunity to shove your shoulders back, knocking the brunette off balance and releasing you. In the process, you took the chance, sprinting away and pressing through the rain, gasping as you heard his yells behind you.

Gripping the side of another steep hill, you clawed at the roots and rocks protruding from the side, launching yourself up the side of the ravine and scrambling up onto flat ground above. Your socked foot caught on a rock, slicing through the fabric and through to your skin too, making you hiss and clench your jaw. Don’t look back, don’t stop, don’t be afraid-

Hoodie grunted as you slammed into him, chest knocking against him so hard you landed flat on your ass. He wasn’t so easy, not allowing you to get back up as the taller man pinned you down. You thrashed wildly, arms and legs flailing as his fists gripped your jacket, raising your chest to slam you back down against the ground, knocking the breath from your lungs. You gasped, tired arms reaching up to claw at his hoodie, tugging the soaked cloth, and trying to reach his skin. Hoodie laughed, his fingers digging into your sides as you groaned, panting your exhaustion. Masky was following behind, grappling up the side of the hill and chuckling his amusement. You were panicking, flailing under the man as you whined. 

“Didn’t last very long at all, huh?” Hoodie mocked, pushing your legs out of the way as you tried to kick him, your hands still clawing. The man just pressed harder, reaching up to clench your jaw, angling your head closer to the ground and into the mud. It was disgusting, your pants and whines making him smile as you gripped his hoodie, feeling for anything you could use.

When your fingers brushed his pistol holstered snugly against his side, you strained your jaw, reaching as far as you could. Hoodie was focused, eyes locked onto your face as his fingers clenched around your throat, tightening excruciatingly as you gasped, head already spinning. Your breathing was labored, the intensity of his grasp faltering your reach as you strained, the eagerness in his grasp making you dizzy.

You whined, pressing your shoulder down as you finally wrapped a finger around the end, tugging the weapon out of its holster. Masky was close now too, boots crunching in the mud as your vision blurred, rain and lack of oxygen snaking a darkness into the edges of your sight. You snagged a finger around the cold metal of the gun, hauling it up and bringing it down quickly, slamming against the side of Hoodie’s skull. His groan rang, his grasp on your throat letting free as he hauled back, gripping at the side of his head. 

You scrambled up, panting breaths of moist air as you pushed back in the mud, hauling yourself up. Masky tried to press in, your hands were quick to shoot up and aim the pistol, a finger placed steadily on the trigger. The man stopped, mockingly holding his hands up and laughing, angling his head to the side in amusement.

“What? Is the little mouse scared now? What happened to all that big talk earlier?” You cringed, panting loudly as puffs of condensation clouded around your mouth. You were shaking wildly, mud and rain crusted deep into your clothes and skin, soaking you to your core. “I thought this was some game, not a real chase.” You grit your teeth, snarling your desperation through angered words. 

Hoodie was up now, looming close to Masky’s side as he watched, an expression showing he was ready to pounce. He wanted more, you could see it in the way his fingers flexed and palmed against his jeans. You shook, keeping the pistol aimed between both of them. You didn’t give them a chance to get to you again. Turning on your heels, you lunged into another sprint, chest, and legs aching at the sudden burst. The boys latched on, not giving a second thought before chasing behind you, desperately trying to match your pace. You were faster than them, but there was no way you would be able to beat them again physically. With a hurt foot and weakened body, they would overpower you in an instant.

Mocking chants and laughs echoed loudly behind you, the rain and wind snapping at your skin. You limped through every step, trying to keep a good pace as the pain began to sink in, mud clinging against your cuts. Your mind was racing, excitement and pent-up energy exerting themselves in every ache and stretch. So many times on missions you were forced into uncomfortable situations, clawing and begging to prove yourself, to show just how useful you were. 

But now, you weren’t chasing anymore. You were the one running, the one begging and sobbing to be shown mercy. Masky and Hoodie weren’t capable of mercy, they didn't know the meaning of the word. So now, the role flipped on its head, you were truly aware of just how much you needed to get away.

You swung your arm around as you felt bodies close in, gripping the pistol tight and aiming high as you took a shot. An ear-piercing ricochet rang through the trees. Curses shouted, loud gasps as the bullet whizzed past their heads, and maniacal laughter soon followed. “Shit, Hood! Mouse’s got some bite!” Masky panted, exhausted tone showing as he continued to run. Hoodie growled his approval, grappling off of trees and closing in again. You’d been a fool to think they’d scare so easily. Of course, your violence would just get them more excited.

Clattering across a stretch of gravel and mud, you cursed, the gash in your foot screaming with pain. The limp caused you to be ill-timed, Masky taking the falter and seizing you, your bodies clattering to the nasty ground.

Masky chuckled, your hair knotted in his hand as he forced you onto your chest. Your fingers dug into the mud, desperately trying to push yourself up as you flailed, pistol gripped tight. Limbs burned, lungs gasping for air as you felt a knee press between your shoulder blades before you could move. He crushed you against the gravel harder and harder. Masky pressed down close, dragging your head to the side so he could groan into your ear. Hoodie was already on you too, the sole of his boot crushed atop your hand to pry the pistol away, tossing it a few feet away. Masky’s knee pressed hard, the mask covering his expression, but you could hear his excitement all too well.

“All that running just for us to still catch you, little mouse. I say we deserve some compensation for all that work.” You clenched your teeth, tears welling in your eyes not only from the exhaustion that was creeping in but from the terrible pain shooting through your body. Everything hurt, sleepiness hanging on every limb. They must have noticed as the Hoodie knelt down beside your head.

He caressed his fingers over your skin, marveling at the softness of your cheeks cool with the rain, before nudging your jaw with his fist. “I think I know a pretty good reward, eh?” His hoodie was soaked, the usual mustard color a dark brown as Masky loosened his grip on your hair, tugging your shoulder over as his knee lifted. You tried to gauge their expressions and understand what they were so giddy about as you lay on your back, face, and clothes splattered with mud and rain. “I’d say I have to agree with you there, man.”

As Masky stood, you tried to sit up before large pairs of hands shoved you back to the ground. Your bodies pressed close, Hoodie wedging himself against your side as Masky gripped your arms, pressing them down against the rocks. That’s when you felt it, the heat in his jeans pressed against your hip, your skin exploding with warmth. You tried to look through his mask into his eyes, shimmying your hips as Hoodie did the same, gripping the side of your face to keep your head down. They were overpowering you, binding you down to submit, forcing you to stop. You didn’t want to. They wanted a fight, and you weren’t so willing to lay down and take it.

“Keep moving your hips like that and watch what happens.” Masky barked, snaking a knee between your legs as he pressed close, breathing muffled as he held you. Your body was useless, their arms and hands gripping tight and hauling you close, gasps ringing at every fist tightening. “You’ve lost, alright? Just fuckin’ give up.” Hoodie jerked your jaw, pressing your shoulder to the ground as you kicked your legs, Masky’s knee slid up against your core and held it there even when you squirmed. “Even after all that runnin’ you’ve still got energy? Fuck.” Masky angrily laughed, tugging at your jeans and undoing the buttons, your heart immediately jumping from your chest.

“Masky-” Hoodie clasped a hand over your mouth, tugging your body up against his own as he pressed beside you. Masky let go of your hands, Hoodie quick to take them in one hand, and hold them above your head as the latter worked on shimmying your pants off of your thighs. The rain made you twitch as drops hit your bare skin. “We won, remember? Gonna have to show you just what girls with big egos get, yeah? You could use a little humbling…” The hooded man smiled, snaking a hand around your throat and clamping down, your airway choking closed as you gasped. It felt like a rush, every inch of your body overwhelmed as they gripped at your skin. You were falling apart, fighting and fear leaving your body, anxiousness and excitement slowly creeping in the lower Masky’s hands dipped against your thighs.

“Every inch of you is a tease.” He snapped, your muddy jeans discarded as fingers dug into your skin. The man acted ravenous, fingernails clawing against your damp skin as he nudged himself between your legs, your head swaying lightly as Hoodie pushed his grip on your throat harder. “Been dying to get a good look.”

You couldn’t deny how many times you caught them staring. Every time you stripped down to your underwear to bathe in the creek or laid out in the truck's backseat to get some rest, their eyes lingered, awkward silence hanging in the air. It was obvious now. That same ravenous look was caught behind the eyeholes of their masks, your heart skipping as Masky hooked his fingers into the waistline of your panties. Jerking against Hoodie’s grasp on your wrists, you let your back arch off the ground, panting against the fingers gripped onto your throat as Masky slowly slid the cloth down. 

Rain soaked your face as Hoodie took his time sliding a hand up your shirt, palming at your moist skin and dragging your jacket off of your shoulders. “You’ve always had such a loud mouth, y’know that? It’d be nice to see it occupied with other things.” Hoodie chuckled, letting his fist off of your throat to slide up to your lips, your gasps and coughs music to his ears. He was quick to slide two fingers past your teeth, shoving them down to the knuckle and pushing down your tongue. You gagged, head rearing back but his fingers followed, pressing down into your throat with a cough. He let go of your wrists, snaking a fist into your hair as he held his fingers still, your throat constricting around the digits as you reached back to grip his hoodie, tugging him closer. Masky watched close, your warm cunt throbbing as the cold air ran goosebumps across your skin.

“Christ.” Masky hummed, pressing your knees apart as he adjusted himself between them, his cock constricting tight against his jeans. He slid your folds apart with his thumb, swiping the digit through your wetness and spreading it, smiling at the way your hips instinctively jerked. You whined, senses overwhelmed as you choked again, gagging as Hoodie began to pump his fingers. “If you can’t even take my fingers, how are you supposed to take my cock? Do better.” Hoodie was so much more gruff than Masky, barking his command and pushing you further than you knew he could go. The man was always the quieter of the two, his shadow-like demeanor starkly contrasting Masky’s. So when it came to primal instincts, the two flipped like a coin. Masky took a much more silent authoritative stance, while Hoodie was all bark and bite. The two worked perfectly together, you realized, in murder and sex. Perfect contrasts no matter the circumstances.

Your cheeks shot red, your eyes watering the louder you heard him huff. You tried to let your throat relax, you tried to breathe steady. But when you felt a finger screw into your cunt, forcing its way into your hardly prepped warmth, you cried out. 

Masky’s nails dug into your thighs, his knees shoving your legs open as he twisted his middle finger, angling to press up against the gumminess of your walls. “So warm, damn…” He grunted, letting his thumb press against your clit and rub aching circles against the nub. Hoodie didn’t give you a moment, however. His fingers were soon tugged from your lips as he snagged your hair back, pushing your cheek against his jeans, face-to-face with his boner. How were you going to take that? You tried to stammer, tried to press your hands on his legs, but he was already undoing his belt. “Hoodie-” You hissed, your sentence cut off as you jerked your hips up when another finger crammed itself into your tight cunt, digits spreading and scissoring you loose. Your eyes shot back and forth, focused on fingers tugging down their zipper but also on the hungry way fingers dug into your folds.

You were overwhelmed, the rain and wind snapping at every naked part of your body and sending chills. And the boys were eating you alive. 

“Wait, please- I’m sorry! Ah! I was wrong okay-” Hoodie’s palm was back around your mouth, your pants and whines muffled behind the hand as he tugged his jeans down with his boxers. Your eyes shot wide when he tugged his cock out, shoving his waistband below his balls and giving his length a few good tugs. Masky chuckled, pressing the heel of his palm down onto your clit as he rhythmically curled his fingers up, your cunt soaking them. “If you’re so sorry, then show it, sweetheart.” You gawked at the girth wrapped in Hoodie’s fist, unsure of how you were even supposed to take half of that in your mouth. But take it you would. It didn’t matter if you screamed, bled, or passed out, Hoodie was going to make sure you would melt on it.

You were trembling, as vicious as you were, you were excited. Hoodie and Masky could see it. They had no intention of hurting you, but they had every intention of breaking the little ego you held onto. You held their gaze, rain streaming down your face as you whined. “Open up.” The brunette didn’t give you much of a choice as he pressed his cock to your lips. You gasped around the tip, his hands wrapping into the back of your hair and pressing your head closer. Hoodie groaned as he went deeper, your throat convulsing around him with a barely suppressed gag. You felt like you were losing air, taking a last deep breath before Hoodie stopped, your lips wrapping tight around the middle of his girth. 

He held steady, Masky keeping you distracted with his fingers, but you couldn't fight the dizziness in your head. Hoodie drank up the way your eyes slammed shut, the way your hands gripped into his clothes and pawed for release; he couldn’t stand it. Masky couldn’t either.

When you caressed your tongue along the bottom side of his cockhead, Hoodie growled, fisting your hair tight. He snapped your head closer, pushing your throat open around his girth and tugging you back off quickly, snapping his hips back again to set a sickening pace. You choked, slobber pooling around your lips and glistening on his length as he fucked into your throat, giving you no time to breathe. You dug your nails into his hoodie, clawing for something to hold onto as he rattled your head. Every squeeze of your throat just spurred him on, the resistance only making him more eager to fuck you open and raw. “God, you must be real sorry, huh?” Hoodie growled, letting one hand shove up your shirt up and tug your bra off of your tits, gripping onto the mounds.

Masky watched, smiling wildly behind the mask as his cock throbbed against his jeans. Your cunt had soaked his fingers loose enough to slip another in, his free hand shimmying his belt undone and tugging his zipper down. The man took a shaky breath when his cock met the cold air, twitching and eager as he unscrewed his fingers from your cunt, surprised at the way your hips tried to follow them. The loud sound of slobber and gagging on Hoodie’s cock made Masky excited to hear more, pumping his cock in his fist covered with your arousal as he pressed a free hand back to your folds. “Don’t pass out now, little mouse.” 

You couldn’t hear him over the sound of your own head roaring, throat tensing and convulsing at every press of Hoodie length into your mouth. He was so rough, so aggressive in his actions, desperately clawing for more as if he had been begging for this for forever. You finally felt like you could get the hang of it, finding a good position for your mouth until-

Smack!

You nearly screamed when you felt a palm slap down on your cunt, snapping against your cunt and sending your hips shooting off of the muddy ground. Masky laughed, his fist jerking his cock as your eyes shot open, trying to pull your head back off of Hoodie’s length. He growled, snapping your head back down onto his cock and shoving your nose into his pubes, snapping at you to stay still. 

Masky raised his hand again, your stomach tightening as you watched through tear-beaded eyes when his palm made contact with your clit again. It stung, your throat grunting and sobbing as Hoodie gripped either side of your head in his hands, fucking his hips into your warm mouth. You tried to press your thighs shut, Masky shoving them apart as he slapped again, spanking your cunt and grinning at the squelch. Pained whines muffled around Hoodie’s cock as he rubbed his fingers against your clit before hauling his hand up, smacking back down to watch your hips jerk. You dug your heels into the dirt, trying to press away, but Masky’s hands were already gripped around your hips and tugging you back.

Your head was light, oxygen barely seeping through as Hoodie completely ignored your wails, hips jerking, and balls slapping against the side of your face the deeper you drank his cock down. “So good…” He muttered, gasping as he hunched over your head, driving his hips at an exhausting pace. Your jaw hurt, eyes raw with tears as you lulled your tongue against the underside of his length to desperately hurry his orgasm along.

Your mouth was so full, so warm and tight, and took the brunette the best you could. Hoodie whined when he felt his balls tighten and abdomen tense, ecstasy shooting through his body as he throbbed in your mouth and spilled down your throat. You clung to his hoodie, unable to swallow as quickly as he pumped into you, cum and slobber dribbling down your chin. You gasped as you felt the intrusion leave your mouth, desperately trying to catch your breath as seed dripped down your chin. Masky didn’t give you time, barely able to swallow before you felt a tension pushing into your cunt.

“I think you still owe me an apology, right?” The man between your legs chuckled, pushing your hips down to the soaked ground as he slowly sunk in, stretching your cunt uncomfortably. Hoodie was panting, wringing the last of his orgasm from his cock as he hauled your head up, craning your neck to face him. He shoved his mask up, the fabric bunching at his brow as his flushed cheeks glistened with sweat. You whined as you felt Masky’s cock press deeper, your walls throbbing around him as Hoodie caught your lips, breathing deep as he panted into your mouth.

“Mmn, fuck-” Masky chirped, raising your ass off the ground as he pressed against your tightness, sinking into your gooey warmth. Hoodie ravaged, gripping your jacket and shaking it off your arms, fingers tugging at your shirt until you could hear the seams popping and snapping. Masky bottomed out, you gasp giving Hoodie enough access to shove his tongue past your lips and suck on your own. Groans and whines swapped, Masky watched, stomach twirling with arousal.

He slowly tugged his hips back, your thighs trembling as you peeked out, groaning when you watched Masky slide his own mask off of his face, the object clattering into the mud. His hips didn’t get far before they snapped back, nails tugging your hips back to meet with a stifled moan. Hoodie shuffled behind you, adjusting himself to your back pressed against his chest as Masky started his drowsy pace into your puffy cunt. You whimpered with every inch, panting desperately. Your pussy gripped him tightly as Masky pressed all the way inside—before withdrawing completely and plunging back in again. You screamed, the sound choked with frantic need as Hoodie replaced his lips with his fingers again. Masky pulled your hips back, fucking mindlessly until your knees tightened around his sides. He snaked a hand between your legs and rubbed your clit, grinning as you shook from head to toe and went limp against Hoodie’s chest, the pleasure shattering you.

“Too much, little mouse?" You managed to shake your head, defiant little thing. Masky snapped his hips again, pace slowly and sickeningly increasing, thrusts getting harder but not faster. You mewled, sucking on Hoodie’s digits as he played with your nipples, massaging your tits with every heave of your chest. “Don’t get needy now, sweetheart,” Hoodie noted the way your hips craned to meet Masky’s every move, stomach tightening to get a better grip around his cock. You groaned, flexing your hands as they both laughed at your desperation. You were irritated. They wanted badly to ruin you, to make you theirs. But when it finally comes time for you to enjoy their part, they won’t let you. You felt yourself snap as you hauled your bodies forward.

Masky grunted as you shoved your hands against his chest, kicking your feet free from his hands and slamming the big guy on his back. Hoodie was quick to follow, stunned at the sudden movement but sure to find his place snagged onto your back as you straddled Masky again.

“You’re a fucking prick.” You groaned, pressing your nails into his face as your knees dug into the rocky mud-caked ground. You all were nasty, sweat and rain dripping from your brows but you were so horny it didn’t matter. 

Masky pressed back, tugging at your wrists to let off of his face. It was only when he shoved your jaw back did you saw the gleam of metal in the rain, the dark pistol smeared with mud but close enough to grasp. You pressed forward, shoving Masky’s forehead down as he snapped, Hoodie gripping your hips to drag you back.

You tried to claw, to reach the gun, but the boys were stronger. “Little cunt. You never learn, huh?” Masky barked, gripping his cock tight as Hoodie angled your hips to sink back onto the length. You choked out when they slammed your hips together, Masky setting a brutal pace up into your cunt as Hoodie pressed you down, jerking his own growing cock now.

“I don’t know where you- ah- where you get this attitude from,” Masky growled into your ear, your chest pressing down against his as he quickly tugged his cock in and out of your drenched warmth. You whined through every echoed slap, the rain, and sweat making you both slippery, and every thrust of his hips reverberating off the density of the trees. You reached out, stretching your shoulder as far as it would go to reach the pistol just at your fingertips. You groaned, pressing your sore hands into the mud for one final stretch, your index brushing the metal and tugging it in your direction. 

“Fuck you.” You growled out, tugging the gun into your hand and turning to aim it at the side of Masky’s temple. You wanted a reaction, for his pace to hesitate or his eyes to stutter, but they never did. He just kept tugging your hips down, mercilessly shoving the air from your lungs with every press of his cock against your sore walls. Your noses brushed as you stared deep into the other’s eyes, a silent challenge. If anything, he went faster.

Hoodie chuckled behind you, letting his cock slide between your ass cheeks every time they bounced in Masky’s cock. He was grunting, pressing your lower back down to get a better arch out of you. “Cute.” He smiled.

Masky glanced, acknowledging the weapon pressed so aggressively against the side of his head, but keeping his attention on you. You wanted to yell, to tug the trigger just enough to watch fear creep in, but your thoughts got abruptly lost.

Masky let your hips go, tugging a fist into your hair as he slammed your lips together. You grunted into the kiss, anger fuming between the two of you and tearing your resilience apart. The kiss was aggressive, teeth snagging on lips and tongues shoving against cheeks as Hoodie took his chance to rest his hands on your hips. “Shit.”

Hoodie tugged his cock back, your hips riding Masky on their own and setting your own pace, cunt gushing and squelching at every move. You hadn’t even cum yet, and the desperation was getting to you. 

“Stick your tongue out.” Hoodie reached between you two, cutting your kiss short as he selfishly shoved two fingers into your mouth, Masky growling at the loss. The brunette just laughed, a cheeky grin flashing as he tugged his fingers back, swiping them between your asscheeks.

You hissed, hips stuttering their pace as you felt Hoodie press his index finger against your asshole, swirling the muscle eagerly. “Hoodie.” You grit, craning your neck to look back at him, Masky letting his hand fall to your upper thighs. The brunette smiled, slowly nudging his index finger through the tight ring and making you sit up straight. Masky growled, reaching up to wrap his arm around you, tugging your shoulders back down, your neck in a headlock against his chest.

He slowly began to thrust his hips up again, achingly slow to distract from the feeling of Hoodie stretching your asshole. You wanted to growl, to fight back, but your eyes just rolled. Masky smiled as he watched the pistol slowly slip from your grasp, clattering back against the gravel as he fucked lazily up into your cunt, the warmth a lot more gooey than before. You could feel your abdomen flutter, clit brushing against Masky and sending your thighs tensing. “Please…" you moaned. "Coming… make me come…”

Hoodie craned his index, stretching the rim of your asshole and jerking your ass apart. Masky’s breath startled, resilience cracking as you came on his cock, cunt tightening and throbbing around his length. You convulsed, breath hitching as they brought you to your peak, shuddering violently in Masky’s arms. He couldn’t take it, he had to pull out.

You moaned out, whining when Masky slipped from your cunt and groaned loud, regaining his composure. Hoodie still worked your ass, the sting and stretch were painful but strangely so addicting. He let a second finger tease the rim, your hips sensitively jerking against the feeling as another finger slowly sunk into your ass. Your cunt clenched on nothing, tensing through your orgasm before Masky realigned himself, squeezing his cock back in. He could’ve come from how warm and gummy your walls were after cumming. 

“You ready for both, mouse?” You felt dizzy, head straining as Masky kept a hold on your neck, locking you down against his chest. You tried to nod, mumbling your eagerness as Hoodie successfully pressed another finger past your rim, your whine making them grin. The brunette gave you a few good tugs before pulling his fingers out, stroking his length as he pressed the tip to your rim. You groaned against Masky’s chest, biting into the cloth of his shirt as he thrust his hips, trying to give you a good duality as Hoodie slowly pressed in.

It stung, the stretch and fullness making your fingers grip into anything you could get, nails indenting into Masky’s sides. Hoodie cursed, fingers digging into the mounds of your ass and tugging them apart, trying his best to sink in through the constraint. “Fuck, sweetheart. You’re tight as hell- shit-” You sobbed through the tension, trying your best to relax as both of your holes slowly filled, your abdomen swirling with waves of arousal. You felt dizzy, panting in Masky’s scent as Hoodie finally snapped in the rest of the way, the stretch making tears spill down your cheeks.

“Fu… Fuck me…” You choked out, craning your hips just enough to make Hoodie whine, nails cutting into your hips. The boys got the hint, Masky slowing down his pace to match Hoodie’s stuttered one, the brunette fighting against the constraint of your ass while he bluntly thrust. You moaned anyways, Masky’s cock snagging your g-spot and ramming there, his grin telling. He couldn’t resist leaning forward to steal a kiss again, biting into your plump lips. 

Hoodie couldn’t get over your mouth, however. He needed to be in that warmth again. So, he leaned forward, pressing his fingers against the side of your cheek and pressing them into the corner of your mouth, Masky tensing at the foreign taste. He looked like he was going to say something, but you shut him up with a plop of your hips, raising your ass up to fuck against Hoodie’s cock and ride right back down onto Masky’s. “Be nice.” You gasped as Hoodie curled his finger into the side of your cheek, tugging the skin back to make drool pool against your lips. Masky growled, rolling his eyes before snagging your lips again, loud groans and hisses panted into the other’s mouth. You felt so full, holes stuffed so nauseatingly well you could feel the way their cocks brushed together inside of you.

You could feel it again, the way your gut clenched. Masky clenched your thighs, his cock aching inside of you as Hoodie snapped his hips, riding close to the edge again. You tried your best to angle your hips back, giving them both the best angle to tug their cocks in and out. “‘M coming- Fuck! Please, please, please…” You panted through every snap of their hips, their cocks squeezing and stretching your holes so wide you knew you were ruined for anyone else. Your head was so tired, cunt throbbing and aching for release the harder they went, chasing their own.

“Pull out, Hoodie…” Masky choked, getting the last few thrusts he could as he felt you tightening, his cock teetering dangerously close to the edge. Hoodie whined, the tip of his cock popping in and out past your rim and dragging him closer too, both of the boys a whining grunting mess with you sandwiched between them. “Ma- Masky… Hoodie…”

Both of your holes clenched down as you came, the intensity of your orgasm washing over you so strongly that your eyes lulled to the back of your head. Your stomach twisted, the knot unraveling as you released on their cocks. Masky moaned lowly, biting into his lip as he forced his cock out of your swelled cunt, ropes of cum dripping from his tip as he stole your lips. Hoodie followed quickly, pushing your ass off of his cock as he started fisting his length quickly, pumping tight at the base to shoot his seed across your back. He whined through his orgasm, smearing his cum across your ass and lazily smiling at his work.

You all panted, shoulders slumped and bodies sore. You felt like you couldn’t move, every muscle inside and out aching from the exertion you had gone through.

Rain still poured, the chill seeping into your bones as you shook, water and sweat dripping from your nose. You felt so spent, cunt and ass ruined and throbbing wildly as you let your head go limp on Masky’s chest, the man grunting underneath you. “Fuck…alright, mouse.”

You were far too sleepy to care much as they shoved their limp cocks back into their jeans, everyone’s clothes soaked and cold as Hoodie wrapped his arms under your limbs, hauling you up. “C’mon, sweetheart…” Even they sounded tired. 

-

You slipped in and out of sleep on the way back to the truck, Masky collecting your items as they went and tossing everything into the bed as the engine roared. Hoodie laid you in the backseat, climbing into the passenger as Masky peeled back towards the interstate. You were too tired to ask where you were going.

You only stirred back when the obnoxious luminescent lights showed into the truck window, blinding you. You squinted, tossing your hand in front of the light as you sat up, the backseat suddenly opening.

“Don’t make me regret buyin’ this,” Masky growled as he tossed a blanket towards you, you just now realizing how nasty with mud you all were. You smiled as Hoodie helped you out, shuffling you close to his side as the boys dragged you around to the shabby door of the motel they had found. You flinched as you remembered your foot, the crusted blood and mud staining the underside of your sock as you limped through the rusty door.

It wasn’t anything nice, definitely not five stars.

But as you three tugged off your clothes and cleaned as much of the mud off as possible, it didn’t matter. The boys cringed at your cuts, mumbling their apologies and helping you clean them up, too. Exhausted, the three of you crawled into the way-too-small bed, the boys on either side of you as they cradled in, sticky and sore body parts finding their comfortable spaces. 

It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was better than sleeping in the back of the truck. You smiled when their breathing labored, faces cradled into your shoulders while you slowly blinked your sleepiness away. You didn’t want to acknowledge what this night might mean for the future, at least not tonight. You’d much rather sleep.

But as Masky and Hoodie slid their arms around your torso, legs interlocking as you all finally relaxed, maybe it didn’t seem so bad anymore.

You’d have to learn to watch your tongue, though. For your sake.

This was an anonymous request!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

Thank you to my wonderful editors: @h3llw1 and @solarbites!

[pedrospatch]

captive

Raider! Joel Miller x Female Reader

summary: You find yourself missing your captor while he’s out on an early morning hunt with the rest of the group.

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. RAIDER ERA. DARK!JOEL. DUBCON. IMPLIED PREVIOUS NONCON. UNSPECIFIED AGE GAP (reader is in her 20’s and Joel is 50). READER HAS NO PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION. mentions of Joel’s group murdering reader’s group, it’s implied her family members were also killed, Joel pretty much kidnaps reader and keeps her as his own, stockholm syndrome, reader deals with a lot of very distressing and conflicting feelings, Joel isn’t too creepy or extremely dark, but he is still not a good person, mentions of Tommy. VERY BRIEF SMUT in the form of cockwarming, daddy kink but i didn’t go overboard this time, pet names (honey, baby, babygirl, sweetheart) if i missed anything, you can POLITELY let me know because if i missed anything, it was purely accidental. minimal editing.

PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS.

if this isn’t your thing, that’s fine, just scroll on by.

word count: 1.4k

a/n: i might actually throw up idk. i’ve had this itch to try dark joel and seeing as i have major writer’s block with all my other wips i decided to just scratch the itch. this is a little out of my comfort zone but i actually ended up feeling pleased with what i wrote. this is my personal take on dark/raider joel, i’m sure it is very out of character but it’s fanfiction so…yeah. here it is.

It’s the rain that rouses you from your sleep.

It beats down heavily on the remote cabin’s tin roof.

Loud. Much too loud.

You roll over, settling yourself on your side.

The mattress is old, worn, rotting beneath the sheets.

You can’t complain, though. At least you have a bed.

Everybody else is forced to sleep on the hard floor.

He always gets the room with the bed.

As his special girl, that means you always get the room with the bed too.

It’s not quite as flattering as one would believe.

He only ever wants the bedroom for one reason—to keep you behind a locked door so you can’t run.

You sigh softly and stare out the window. He’d secured that too, made certain that it couldn’t be opened from the inside.

Closing your eyes, you try and go back to sleep.

Sleep doesn’t come.

His absence is starting to bother you.

You’ve been with him for an entire season now.

You’re getting used to him.

The sound of his voice. 

The warmth of his body.

The taste of his lips.

You can’t even sleep without him next to you.

“Fuck,” you whisper, clutching the stale sheets, balling them in your fists out of frustration.

How was it possible? How could you be missing him?

He had taken everything from you.

Your family.

Your home. 

Your innocence.

He was holding you captive. He was a monster.

But a monster doesn’t keep you safe.

Doesn’t clothe you.

Doesn’t feed you.

Doesn’t protect you.

He did all of those things and more. 

Is that why you feel so empty without him beside you?

Is that why you’re no longer so certain you would run if you were given the chance to escape him?

You fucking hated him for what he’d done.

Yet here you are, aching for him to come back to you.

It’s another hour before you hear the lock clicking. 

Joel pushes through the door, quietly closing it behind him.

“Y’awake?” he asks, slipping his pack off his shoulders.

“Mhm,” you answer with your back to him. “I am.”

You hear the sound of his pack hitting the floor.

His worn leather boots being kicked off. 

His rifle being set down, propped against the wall.

“How was the hunt?”

You can feel him freeze as he’s taking off his jacket.

Getting you to willingly speak to him had always been a lot like pulling teeth. Difficult, almost impossible.

When he doesn’t respond, you roll over to face him.

There’s a swoop in your tummy.

Joel is drenched from head to toe. His blue denim shirt clings to his broad frame and his dark, graying curls are slicked back away from his face.

He’s got such a handsome face.

Monsters aren’t supposed to have handsome faces.

He raises an eyebrow. “You’re really askin’ me how the hunt went?” Suspicion laces his tone. “Why? Y’worried you won’t eat tonight?”

Of course you weren’t.

Joel Miller doesn’t let you go hungry.

When food is scarce, he makes sure you eat first. If he notices you rubbing your tummy because your portion wasn’t enough, he’ll give you his own portion.

He takes care of you.

“No.” You pause and sit up. The sheets you two share fall away from your body, leaving your soft, supple breasts on full display for him. “Just wanted to know how your morning went. That’s all.”

It’s not your tits that make his cock twitch against the zipper of his jeans—it’s the sincerity that flashes across your features, the sound of it in the tone of your voice.

You’re being sweet to him.

He clears his throat lightly.

“Went real good. Brought down a deer. Female, ‘bout a hundred pounds or so. Enough to keep all of us well fed for the next couple of weeks,” he says with a nod. “Was pissin’ rain the entire time but it was worth it. Tommy’s in the shed out back right now dressin’ it so we can get a stew started.” He pauses. “You’re gonna get a proper meal tonight, babygirl. Belly’s gonna be nice and full.”

He’s not just talking about food and you know it.

You make an effort to meet his gaze, but you can’t. You can’t bring yourself to do it, not when you remembered how he’d taken you away from your family—how he had carried you over his shoulder, kicking and screaming as his people raided your camp and slaughtered every last member of your group because that’s what Joel Miller had ordered them to do.

Looking him in the eye might be the one thing you will never, ever be able to do.

“It’s cold,” you murmur after a minute. “You should get out of those wet clothes before you get sick.”

With a subtle nod, Joel turns around and starts peeling off his clothes until he’s completely naked. He uses an old rag to dry himself off as best as he can, although it doesn’t do much for him.

You can’t help yourself and stare—your gaze drags over the strong muscles of his back and shoulders, how they flex and ripple beneath his skin with every single one of his movements. Arousal pools between your thighs and all you can do is fucking hate yourself for wanting it, for wanting him.

“S’pretty early still,” he states, his back still to you as he runs the rag through his hair. “Y’should try to get some more sleep.”

The confession tumbles out of your mouth before you can even think about stopping it.

“I couldn’t sleep while you were gone.”

Surprised, he turns around.

Almost immediately, your eyes fall to his cock.

Even when he isn’t fully hard, he’s still so fucking big.

“Is that so?” Joel asks, sounding rather pleased. 

“Yes,” you say, softly. “I—I missed you.”

His lips turn upwards into a subtle, faint grin.

“Yeah?” he coos. “My sweet little girl missed me while I was gone? Hm?” Slowly, he approaches the bed. It dips slightly and the frame creaks as he plants a knee on the mattress and leans over towards you. Gently, Joel takes your chin between his index finger and thumb. “Y’need Daddy by your side so you can sleep, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you whisper, warm tears glazing over your eyes.

It’s bad enough your body welcomed him so easily.

Now your heart was starting to do the same.

And then there was your mind.

What if that stopped fighting him too?

Part of you is afraid it already has.

Joel climbs into bed, joining you under the sheets.

“M’here, my pretty girl. C’mere, honey.” He coaxes you to lay on your side and pulls you back against his chest. His skin is still damp, frigid from having been out in the elements, but somehow he’s still warm. “That better?”

“Need you closer,” you mumble, wiggling against him.

Joel groans, his thick cock hard and throbbing against the small of your back. He nips at your bare shoulder as his hand drags down the length of your body and slips between your thighs. “Christ, babygirl. Pussy’s soakin’ wet for me. Looks like she missed me while I was gone too, didn’t she, sweetheart?”

He runs his finger along your slick, silky folds.

“Daddy,” you whimper, bucking into his hand.

“Don’t worry, honey. Daddy knows what you need.”

Joel pulls his hand from between your legs.

You almost cry—you’re so fucking desperate for him. 

And you shouldn’t be. 

He reaches in between your bodies, his hand wrapping around the base of his cock. Without warning, he slips it into your tight, aching cunt, sheathing himself in your warm, wet heat in one smooth stroke.

You choke out a sob.

It’s always overwhelming, that initial stretch.

That fullness, the feeling of him being in your belly.

“S’alright, sweetheart. S’alright. I know you can take it,” he soothes you. “You’re such a good girl for me. Always take my cock so fuckin’ well. So good for me, baby. You feel better now that Daddy’s cock is buried inside your pretty little pussy?”

He drapes an arm around you, pulling your back flush against his chest.

“Yes,” you breathe, placing your hand on top of his.

Joel feathers a kiss onto your neck.

“Go to sleep, babygirl. M’here. Ain’t goin’ nowhere,” he promises you.

That shouldn’t be a comfort to you. But it is.

You close your eyes, your fingers subconsciously lacing together with his as you start to drift.

Cunt full of his cock, you fall asleep in your captor’s arms.

divider credit to @saradika🤍

[planetaryupscaled]

Disenchanted 6

Male Reader x Karina

Tags: 2k, cheating, creampie, cuckold, daddy kink

The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.

It was well past 2am before Karina and I finished our marathon sex session. The ravishing woman having run out of energy, just letting me lazily pump her cunt with the last of my load for the evening.

It was a surprise that Jaewook was still asleep throughout the ordeal, given the fact that Karina and I really didn’t hold back, I even held her face against his thigh at one point, while railing her from behind, the slaps of flesh distorted by Jaewook’s snores.

I left an exhausted looking Karina to get some much needed sleep, lying face down next to her husband, covering her silky naked form with the sheets before closing the bedroom door behind me. There was an ache in my legs as I slowly descended the wooden stairs. I must have emptied at least five loads inside her that night, my sack was still reeling from the demands I put on it, my cock slowly getting accustomed to not being snugly sheathed within Karina’s tight body.

Opening the doors and slipping into the early morning air sent a ripple of energy spiraling through my senses. My eyes perking up suddenly at the rush of cold wind now billowing all around me as I retired back inside my homely lodge just in time before the heavens opened up with rain coming splashing down on the wooden roof. In many respects, tonight had been more extreme than the Yeonjun, Hajoon affair, it was with her husband, one she shunned for most of the night. Not that Jaewook caught on at first, but I had a feeling he was starting to connect the dots, the longer the three of us fucked. It was the little things, like the eye contact she gave me while we made love, not the same if any when it came to her husband. It was almost like he was, as she described Yeonjun and Hajoon before, a prop. It would not be too long till that final blow would be dealt, to my knowledge we were going to tell Jaewook in a few hours, not knowing what the best time to spill the beans was, if ever. Little did I know the blow would be dealt far sooner than expected and in the most brutal fashion imagined.

—

“Hey...can I come in?” Karina said, amidst the increasingly loud pitter patter of the rain outside.

I must have fallen asleep, checking my watch it was now half five in the morning with the birds already chirping outside.

“Hey...sure...come in.” I replied, getting up and ushering a soaking Karina in.

She was drenched, wearing nothing but a white bra and matching underwear, as she strolled into my posh glamping abode, a wicked smile strewn across her face.

“Karina, you are soaked...” I said, wrapping a towel around her and bringing her into the warmth by the fireplace.

“More than you know.” She chimed back, looking at me with those deep brown eyes of hers.

I felt like she wanted to tell me something, something important, there was a level of excitement emanating from her that I could not quite pinpoint.

“So...I had a talk with Jaewook” Karina said, “it’s over...”  with finality, running her hands along my arm.

“Um...what...I thought we were going to do it tog...” I started.

“It’s better this way.” She replied with a smile.

“How...did he take it?” I asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Not good at first, there were tears, his tears that is and then anger, then tears again. I left him in the bedroom to think it through, but I am pretty sure he has passed out again.” Karina said.

“Wow...so...” I replied.

“So...I guess that’s that...” Karina said, closing the gap.

“I’m yours...” She followed up.

“Seriously Karina, you wanna fool around after such a big decision has bee...” I started again, before getting interrupted by a kiss.

Her soft lips melded with mine, as if we were made for one another, the warmth of the fire stoking our bodies as I pulled her closer for a deeper embrace.

“You know...we were meant to do this together right?” I said, staring at her beautiful face.

“Guess...I’ve been a bad girl...” Karina replied, placing her hands on my chest.

“You know what happens to bad girls right?” I replied, catching onto the sudden erotic turn of events.

“What’s that?” She said, biting down hard on my lip as I felt her hands roam into my pants and grab harshly at my sack.

“They get...punished...” I replied, moaning at her touch while simultaneously man handling her to the bed.

“Wait...” Karina said.

“Film it...” She followed up with a cheeky grin.

I walked over to the side table, propping up my phone and pressing record, making sure the lens captured everything. This was to be our second video, and I wanted it to be hotter than the last.

“Ass across my lap, young lady.” I said, sitting down on the edge of the bed as Karina presented her pert derriere to me.

“You ready?” I asked, palms already about to strike.

She looked at me, over her shoulder, in anticipation, sucking down on my thumb from my free hand.

“Don’t hold back...be rough with me...Daddy.” Karina said, seductively, before tensing her rear for me in quiet trepidation.

I drove down with full force, not holding back as I connected with Karina’s ass cheeks, the ripple effect causing a loud slapping noise to ring off the walls.

“Ahhhhh...Daddy...” Karina wailed.

“You like that?” I replied, coming down harder this time, slapping her rear while squeezing her red raw flesh under my hands.

“Yes...AHHH...harder...ahhhh.” Karina screamed, her rear now getting battered from my slaps.

Karina started whimpering with each subsequent smack, her body trembling under my grasp, till the brunette turned around over her shoulder, eyes watering slightly at the force of my strikes.

“Fuckkk...fuck me now.” Karina said breathlessly.

I was lost in the moment, my hand still shaking after smacking her ass red raw, staring down at Karina’s tight body, I slipped out of my boxers and rammed myself as far as I could into her married cunt. My tip piercing her silky folds with ease as I split the mother of three open with my cock, my crown roughly smashing up against her cervix with a thud as I bottomed her out. Karina felt different this time, kinkier in her requests as if the ante had been dialed up a few more notches as she pushed back onto my deep hard thrusts. Her walls sucking my shaft off as I drilled her mercilessly into the mattress, adding a few more slaps to her ass each time I pumped her cunt with more of my dick.

“Pull...my hair...” Karina said between moans, sucking on my fingers as I pried her mouth open with one hand and yanked on her hair with another.

It was the roughest we had ever been, but she loved it, arching her back to allow me to penetrate her pussy to the fullest, filling her pink chamber with my meat as I stuffed her unfaithful cunt with cock.

“Ughhh…Minho...yes...fuck...dadddyyyy...” Karina moaned, her eyes locked on the camera as I railed her in the prone position.

It was just in that moment that the front door swung open. her husband Jaewook standing a few feet away from us, a look of horror on his face. He could not comprehend what he was seeing, words failing him as he just watched, slack jawed as Karina and I stared back at him.

“Moree...give me more...” Karina demanded.

We were too far gone, not giving a shit about other people’s feelings at this point, we just needed to get off.

“You like that?” I asked, spanking her rear.

“Uhhh...yes...just...like...that...daddy.” She replied, biting her lips.

“Better than your husbands?” I asked, through gritted teeth as I fucked more of my straining cock into her tight pussy.

She raised her head, looking Jaewook deep in his tearful eyes as I penetrated her cunt.

“Worlds...better...” She replied with little remorse, pushing back on me as I flipped her over onto her back.

“Spread your legs baby.” I said, rubbing furiously at her throbbing clitoris.

She complied, parting her bronze thighs for me as I pierced her folds with my dick once more. I could sense her eyes ever so often glance over at a frozen Jaewook, his face not showing anger or sadness anymore, but acceptance as I spread his wife’s legs wider, spearing her cunt with deep rupturing strokes.

Karina’s cries of pleasure were mounting, her body was shaking as the brunette hung her head of the side of the bed, allowing me to plough into her marital pussy over and over again, ripping through her pussy with a hunger what needed to be satiated. My cock irrigating her womb of air, the more meat I fucked into her, forcing it out in a hurry, causing a highly erotic farting noise to ring out from between her legs.

I slipped my fingers into her mouth, pumping my dick deeper into her womb, feeling the warmth of her cunt urging me for release as we locked eyes.

“I want to feel you cum...” Karina moaned.

“Wai...” Jaewook spoke, his voice feeble in the distance.

We ignored his plea, locked in our own mating ritual as Karina pushed her hips towards me with each thrust, goading me into seeding her pussy.

“Fuck a baby into me...” Karina whispered, into my ear, loud enough for the killer blow to be heard by Jaewook.

It was enough to set us both off as I fucked my cock deep into Karina’s cunt, exploding at the tip as my pent up sperm peppered her cervix, leaking into her uterus as I injected her twitching womb with my thick milk.

“Ughhhh...baby...fill me...fill...me...up.” Karina groaned.

Her own orgasm triggering as I pumped her pussy fill of cum, my seed dribbling out the sides off her slit as I felt a rush of fresh fluids rush against my cock. She was gushing, the mix of my seed and her juices now coalesced as I force fed her married pussy more of my meat and sperm, right in front of her husband. I felt wave after wave of my cum, pump into her luscious cunt, spurt after spurt painting her insides in my sticky white milk.

Karina was dripping from the rear, as I finally stopped twitching inside her. The slickness of her womb bore the fruits of our labor as her gushing ceased, the stickiness smeared all over her inner thighs, dripping down her red raw ass cheeks as she got up and lay beside me in a huff. We stared at each other for a long moment, forgetting our unwanted guest for a few seconds as his sobs started again. Looking over, Karina purposely strode over to him, still leaking her womanly fluids form her slippery well fucked pussy.

“Jaewook...it’s over.” She said firmly, before turning to me wearing a smile on her face.

I looked at her, amazed and slightly shocked at the brutality of it all. Everything was caught on camera, the sex, the moans, the spanking, the lot. Rolling her hips on my lap while Jaewook took a last look at his wife, she turned to me, taking my tongue between her lips and sucking me firmly.

“Now...fuck me till I pass out...” Karina said, slipping my spent cock back into her freshly claimed cunt.

In that moment, she belonged to me, and she knew it, presenting her body to me for me to claim, claim her mind, body and soul, Karina was mine.

[fangswbenefits]

Sharing is Caring (II)

Summary: Things get complicated, but you find yourself sharing a bed with Miguel… once again. Too bad someone else is in the room.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Sharing one bed. Semi-public. Blue balls. Sexual tension. Mutual masturbation. Creampie. Implied cockwarming.

* ˚ ✦ Part 1. (you don’t have to read it to enjoy this one, though)

You were fucked.

Extremely fucked.

Not only had the anomaly managed to slip through your fingers, effectively disabling the trackers scattered around, but you were also fucked, because now you were left to deal with the aftermath of a very intimate encounter with Miguel.

It was nearly five in the morning and the night was nowhere near being done. Fortunately, it had stopped raining, which helped with visibility and grip, and having Lyla assist you as in replacing the faulty sensors was also very much welcome.

“Sensor 24 up and running,” the AI’s sing-song voice announced, as the device bleeped green.

You leapt over the railing, shooting a string of web to the side of the hotel, so you could swing through the window.

As you landed with a clumsy thump, you noticed Miguel had already gotten back from his reconnaissance check.

He looked positively… pissed off.

Great.

“Lyla, call her,” her grumbled, checking his watch.

“Already did,” she announced, appearing by his shoulder. “Want me to run a diagnostics of the perimeter once again?”

“Do it in five minute intervals,” he said flatly. “The anomaly must be nearby.”

You removed your mask and considered sitting on the bed, but were soon reminded that not even thirty minutes ago, you were getting fucked by Miguel.

A shudder ran through your body.

“You okay?” he asked, his narrowed eyes on you.

You shrugged. “Sure.”

The problem with having impromptu sex was that now you were left to deal with the soreness between your legs, and the frustration of an orgasm that never came to be.

Did Miguel feel the same way?

Your eyes roamed his body, and you find yourself glaring at his-

“Hey! I need you to focus,” Miguel said with a snap of his fingers. “There’s still a chance we deal with it tonight.”

You were about to snap back when a loud distorted buzz filled the room, swirls of flashing lights nearly blinding you, as the inter-dimensional portal expanded quickly in pulsating waves.

Through came Jessica Drew, followed closely by Peter B. Parker.

Fuck.

“What are you doing here?” Miguel growled, pointing at Peter.

“What?” he asked, eyes widening in confusion.

Miguel wasn’t known to be a very patient man, and you reckoned his patience was now hanging by a thread. “I called for Jess. Not you.”

Jess let out an exasperated sigh. “Easy, Miguel. We were both on the same mission.”

He straightened up, but crossed his arms. “Right.”

“Care to explain why I had to leave to be here?” she went on, resting on hand on her swollen belly. “How did you lose track of the anomaly?”

He exchanged a brief look with you. “The sensors didn’t alert us in time.”

That was true.

“Weren’t you supposed to be monitoring, regardless?”

“We dozed off,” you chimed in. “Momentarily! Just for a while.”

Not really true…

Jess glanced at you, suspicion written all over face.

“Sleeping on the job,” she then chuckled, eyeing Miguel deviously. “Didn’t think you’d ever do that, Miguel.”

He narrowed his eyes menacingly. “We weren’t sleeping. We were just resting our eyes for a moment.”

A blatant lie.

“What’s that on your neck?” Peter suddenly asked with a worried look on his face.

Oh….

You let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the tender hickey spot. “Bug bite.”

“Allergic reaction,” Miguel blurted out at the same time.

Fuck.

You shot him a murderous look.

Jessica arched an eyebrow. “Which one is it?”

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite,” Miguel said with a shrug, growing visibly annoyed.

A wave of relief washed over you momentarily. That seemed plausible enough.

But…

“Oh, really?” she asked with a knowing smile. “What bug? A spid-”

But Miguel was already cutting her off. “We don’t have time for this!”

Peter walked to you, craning your neck to the side. “You should have it checked. It looks serious.”

Ah, Peter… ever the innocent.

“Jess, you stay with us,” Miguel says, dragging Peter away from you at once. “We need an extra pair of eyes.”

She frowned. “No. Peter stays. I need to get some sleep,” she said, patting her belly.

“No!” Miguel growled.

“Actually, I was thinking of heading back home,” Peter drawled out, rubbing the back of his head. “Mayday should be waking up soon.”

“And I’m pregnant,” Jess shot, holding her chin high.

Peter swallowed and fell silent. The deal was sealed.

“Lyla, any updates?”

The hologram popped up instantly. “No, boss.”

Jess glanced over at you one last time, before stepping into the portal once again. “You should really have that checked. Whatever bug did that seems… vicious,” she then slipped into the vortex, which vanished behind her.

You momentarily froze in place, feeling the dread of realisation hit you like a ton of bricks.

She knew.

“I’ll be right back,” Peter drawled out with a yawn and a stretch, disappearing into the bathroom.

The moment you heard rhe door click shut, you turned to Miguel.

“An allergic reaction to a bug bite?” you hissed.

He scowled deeply. “Because simply saying bug bite sounded ridiculous.”

“She didn’t believe it, regardless.”

Miguel was suddenly towering over you, his face twisted in annoyance. “Then why does it matter?”

“Because… you gave me a visible hickey!”

It was a silly thing to get upset about. There were worse things in life than having Miguel O’Hara marking you as a result of built up sexual tension.

But you didn’t want to give in.

“Got carried away,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah…”

He cleared his throat. “But I have a problem.”

You looked up at him. “What problem?”

“Well…” he said, glancing at the bathroom door.

“Peter?”

“No!”

You clicked your tongue. “Then what?”

His placed both hands on his hips and glanced down.

Your eyes followed suit.

Oh.

Oh.

“What? Why are you… what?” you stuttered in disbelief at the sight of the outline of his hardened cock.

“Biology, remember?” he said through gritted teeth. “It’s not going away.”

You somehow managed to tear your eyes from the impressive bulge. “Go jerk off, then!”

He had you walk back until you hit the wall behind. “It won’t go away.”

Had you just given Miguel blue balls?

“How’s that my problem?” you huffed, staring intensely into his crimson eyes.

“This is all your fault.”

“Oh, really? I thought we were blaming Biology.”

Before Miguel could retort, the sudden squeak of a door being swung open, had you slipped past him.

Peter emerged, eyeing you both. “Oh, I see what this is.”

Miguel had to move strategically in order to hide his raging boner from him. “What do you mean?”

“I know what’s up with you two,” Peter said, with a playful grin. “All the whispering and whatnot.”

Great.

Were you two that transparent?

“Huh…”

Miguel had pursed his lips.

Peter paced closer to you, eyeing you with a knowing smile. “You’re deciding on Jessica’s birthday present, right?”

You blinked a few times and heard Miguel exhale nearby.

“Right? I knew it!” he threw his arms in the air as if he’d just won the lottery.

In truth, you were simply baffled at how innocent Peter could be. The immediate weight that was lifted off your shoulders was enough to draw a laugh from you.

“Sure!”

“Of course, Peter,” Miguel said, voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm. “We went on this mission, so we could go through birthday checklists.”

A layer of pride settled on Peter’s face. “Ah! You’re growing soft, Miguel.”

You winced at his poor choice of words.

“But fear not!” he said as if he was about to fight off the anomaly himself. “We’ll take turns watching. You two can get some rest and properly plan it out,” he then pinched his thumb and index finger together and dragged them across his lips. “Your secret is safe with me.”

Miguel didn’t budge at first, but you were all too grateful to stop this insane conversation altogether.

“Thanks, Peter.”

“Of course,” he smiled widely, pacing to the open hotel window, leaping into the the sky night.

You shot Miguel one last look before slipping inside into the comfort of the bedsheets, welcoming the softness.

But you were sorely mistaken if you thought Miguel wouldn’t have followed you.

Your heart skipped a beat. Or two.

You had turned to face the wall, hoping he’d take the hint, and leave you be.

But once you felt his erection pressing into your ass, you knew you were a goner.

There was something extremely empowering about having a man like Miguel be so needy and desperate.

He scooted closer until his breath fanned your ear. “Can you just…”

You scoffed, pride swelling inside you. “Go ask Biology to jerk you off.”

“Whawt?”

“You keep blaming it, so…”

Silence fell between you two.

His hand then came to grip your hip. “It’s you.”

“I didn’t catch that,” you said, feeling his thumb rubbing gently, as he pushed the top half of your suit increasingly higher.

He rolled his hips into you, letting out a shaky moan in your ear that had your skin raise with goosebumps.

You flipped onto your other side to fully face him, and Miguel immediately took your lips with his, kissing you hungrily.

His hand dragged the fabric all the way up until he managed to expose one breast, breaking the kiss only to move down to suck on your hardened nipple.

The thought that he might be too much vaguely crossed your mind. For the second time that night you were meeting a side of Miguel that you had never seen before.

A side you much preferred.

Your fingers dragged through his hair, silently praising him.

In no time, you watched his digital suit disintegrate, giving you full access to the beautifully sculped body underneath.

He gripped your wrist and lowered it until your fingers grazed his cock. Knowing fully well what he craved, you wrapped them around it, earning an immediate jerk of his hips.

“Miguel…” you moaned, letting him freely fuck your hand, spilling more and more precum.

He released your nipple and had his forehead resting on your shoulder, his hand on top of your, making sure you squeezed tighter and tighter.

It didn’t take long for your hand to be soaked with precum, making it easier for him to slide up and down.

You squeezed involuntarily and a gush of wetness spilled into your underwear, your body yearning for him to fill you up with his cock.

He moved his hips deliciously, and you focused on taking in the wet sounds that filled the room as well as his breathless grunts.

But such bliss was short-lived as you heard Peter bolting into the room with a swish of his web.

Well…

Miguel immediately stilled, letting go of your hand.

You didn’t let go of his cock, instead peeking over his shoulder only to find Peter rolling out a sleeping bag on the floor.

He then turned to face you, and your head immediately slumped against the pillow, eyes on Miguel’s.

“Are you okay?”

“What?”

Peter’s voice was but a whisper. “Your heart rate is accelerated.”

Ah… spider senses.

“Yeah… I’m just a bit tense… it’s fine,” you muttered, feeling Miguel’s cock twitch in your hand. “Go get some rest. I’ll take over.”

“Oh! Thank you,” he beamed. “Mayday has been giving us terrible nights, and I could use a few minutes.”

You watched as he fluffed out his pillow before settling down on his back with a yawn.

Miguel’s breathing has steadied momentarily and you eventually let go of him.

But he quickly got a hold of your wrist.

The implication of that action wasn’t exactly subtle and you widened your eyes.

“No,” you mouthed right away.

His crimson eyes had darkened and you spotted his fangs from behind his lips.

You shook your head vehemently.

This was a bad idea.

But as soon as Peter’s snores tore through the room, you felt your heart clench.

“Peter is right there… he will hear it!”

He pressed an urgent kiss to your forehead. “We’ll be quiet. I’ll help you be quiet,” he promised, pressing his cock further into your already soaked crotch.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and just as you were about to let out a low whimper, you felt his hand cover your mouth, effectively reigning it in.

“Quiet.”

The other travelled down painfully slowly, palm grazing your exposed breast briefly, before resting just above the waistline of your suit.

“You have to be quiet,” he warned in a barely audible tone.

You nodded and he lifted his hand from your lips.

“We shouldn’t…” you muttered under your breath.

But your words were not matching your actions, as you dragged your hand covered in precum across his hard chest, taking your time to gently rub his nipple with your thumb.

You thought Miguel had stopped breathing altogether, but soon realised he was merely attempting to hold back a moan.

His fingers quickly slipped past the the waistline, finding your clit and drawing small circles. You had to bite your lip hard to suppress a whimper, rolling your hips into him.

You found his cock again, gripping it desperately and giving him a few pumps that matched the tempo of his strokes.

The thrill of indulging in such experience even when someome else was in the room, and with the increased chances of being caught, merely added to the pleasure you were already feeling.

“You’re doing good,” Miguel praised you through a shaky breath. “So good…”

Impatience took over and you wiggled out of your bottom half of the suit, allowing you to grant him betterr acces, as hou parted your legs.

He immediately seized it and slipped one finger inside.

You had to clasp your hand over your mouth to keep from groaning, eyes fluttering shut.

His breath was on your ear again. “Can you take one more?”

You nodded, not trusting your voice. A second finger immediately joined the first one, slinding inside effortlessly.

Feeling that you had managed to keep yourself under control, you dropped the hand covering your lips to grip his cock.

“And another one?”

You shook your head, fearing that would be too much. He pressed a kiss to your neck with a sigh, as he fucked your hand in a slow rhythm.

The knots of pleasure in your lower abdomen let you know that you were headed towards the precipice. You kept on riding his fingers relentlessly, your mind suddenly hazy from the feeling of being so full of him already.

“I’m close…” he mouthed, his breath shaky and cock twitching.

He had bared his fangs, and you thought you’d combust on the spot, realising he was truly overwhelmed with pleasure.

Finding your voice again, you whispered sensually, “Where do you want to cum?”

His eyed widened, pupils fully blown.

Your hips faltered briefly, grazing your clit across the palm of his hand. “Inside?”

He pressed his eyes shut and dug his fangs into his lower lip. “I won’t last.”

“I know,” you moaned, dragging thumb across his tip, feeling more droplets of warm precum coating your skin.

Peter suddenly let out a loud snore that made you jolt.

“Are you close?” Miguel asked.

“I’ll be with you inside me.”

You shifted on the mattress, and he removed his fingers from you at once, a wet sound filling the room.

Your body shuddered from the loss, but you soon felt his tip proding your entrance.

Before you could take another breath, he jerked his hips and slipped past your fold effortlessly.

His hand was on your mouth again, and this time you could taste yourself, as he struggled to keep your moans at a minimum.

It was also evident the sudden position was taking a toll on him. His steady pace was faltering with each passing second.

You soon entered the familiar point of no return, feeling an intense wave of pleasure tear from within you, blinding your vision with each pulse and contraction. It took all of your not to moan out loud even against his hand, the few shreds of sanity having a hold on you.

Miguel joined you, clearly not able to withstand the rhythmic squeezes around his cock as you reached your high.

Your caught a glimpse oh him biting the back of his other hand hard. He would for sure draw blood with his fangs, but you couldn’t even stay properly focused.

He bottomed out as deep as he could, spurts of cum coating your squeezing walls.

The two of you were struggling to breathe, shallow pants surrounding you.

“Oh my god! Butterfly!”

Peter…

You jerked away from Miguel in distress but with him still buried deep inside you, catching a glimpse of Peter sitting on the floor, breathing rapidly.

“Go back to sleep. It was just a dream,” you said with a smile.

Miguel pulled you into an embrace. “You did good.”

“Me? Not Biology?”

He scowled deeply.

“You can slide out now…” you whispered with a yawn.

Miguel didn’t move. “I want to stay a little longer likes this.”

Masterlist

[obaex]

four - hockey player!ex!rafe cameron (pt. 1)

summary: rafe knows he's screwed up, but when he offers you a way to make amends, you can't resist. the catch? he'll have to do the impossible.

word count: 1.8k

a/n: rafe is slightly toxic in this ngl! i am in love with this. hockey romance is very near and dear to me (this is v loosely based on a real life experience). *mwah*

You saw your phone light up out of the corner of your eye and lowered your mascara wand as you leaned over to glance at the screen and let out a shaky sigh.

A part of you knew the right thing to do by now was to block his number. You hadn't responded to a single message he'd sent for over two weeks. And the messages had been relentless.

I'm thinking about you in the afternoons.

Hi beautiful in the mornings.

I'm sorry.

You're still my girl.

And on and on, escalating to paragraphs at night, as he typed out things he'd never once said out loud to you before; about how he felt the first time he met you, the things his teammates said, about how Wheezie was asking about you and Sarah spent an hour on the phone lecturing him, about how he'd do anything to get you back.

Reading his messages was like drinking a honied poison that went down sweet, warming every inch of you, only to make you sick in the end. But you couldn't stop. You couldn't block him. And even though you'd made him think you were ignoring him, you craved every message, every word he said something you had ached to hear when he had the chance.

Now it was two hours before the biggest game of the season, arguably one of the biggest of his career. He should be focusing on his pregame routine, on his way to the rink, if he wasn't there already and instead here he was texting you. You were the one on his mind and you drank that poison down, allowing yourself to feel special, even if the text had made no sense to you.

How many?

How many what?

His last message before that was from a couple of hours ago, before his pregame nap, the one you often took together as he had reminded you, in excruciating detail.

Your fingers twitched with the urge to reply. You knew he was baiting you into responding, but you swallowed down the urge and took a deep breath to still your beating heart and went back to applying your makeup, dragging up the same memory you did every time you were tempted by him.

It was just after 2AM, and you were sitting in your car that you had driven to his apartment, unable to sleep, desperate to talk to him. He lounged in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead at the windshield, tracking the rain that was falling steadily.

"Can you please talk to me?" you whispered, trying so hard not to come across as needy or desperate.

"What do you want me to say?" he asked, shrugging, avoiding your eye contact.

"I don't know, just tell me what's going on with you? You barely talk to me anymore, you won't even look at me. Did I do something?"

He shrugged again and you felt physically sick. Maybe it was because you couldn't remember the last thing you'd eaten, the last time you'd slept more than a few fitful hours, all consumed with the feeling that your five-year relationship was running off the rails. Rumors were flying that there was another girl... or girls... And when you had asked him about it, he brushed it off, not strongly enough to give you even an ounce of comfort. You were falling apart. And he was letting it happen. He was forcing you to end this, too cowardly to do it himself.

"Do you even want to be with me anymore?" you whispered, barely audible over the pounding rain, like maybe if he didn't hear you, he couldn't answer.

He rubbed his hand over his face and sighed loudly, frustrated, like you were just so annoying to him, and you wished you could suck your words back into your mouth.

"I have practice in like four hours, I can't be doing this with you right now" he said, aptly avoiding the conversation again.

Your chin was wobbling and you bit back everything you wanted to say, not wanting to be needy, or nagging, hoping if you were on your very best behavior he would have a change of heart, change his mind.

You pursed your lips and nodded, averting your gaze to look out at the rain and gathering the strength you needed to say the words that felt like nails in your mouth.

"I can't do this anymore" you whimpered, as tears fell that matched the droplets on your windshield. "I can't keep giving 100% and getting nothing in return. I'm sitting here spilling my heart out to you and you won't even look at me. After everything we've been through... You won't even deny that you hooked up with her."

Silence.

You could see him grimace, the tic in his jaw as he pushed his tongue into his cheek. You wanted to grab the front of his sweatshirt, shake him and scream 'SAY SOMETHING!'. But you didn't. And his silence persisted a moment longer.

"So that's it then?" he said finally, like you had any other choice.

You wiped futilely at the tears that were now pouring down your face, even as you tried to hold them back, sniffling with a shaky breath to avoid outright sobbing in front of him.

He opened the car door, got out, slamming it forcefully behind him without so much as a glance your way and you broke down. You didn't make it one block before you had to pull over. You couldn't see, you couldn't breath, and you couldn't hold your hands steady on the wheel you were shaking so badly. You threw your car in park, lay your head on the steering wheel and cried.

Two days passed before the first text came in.

"I'm sorry" is all it said.

You could see the bubbles at the bottom of the screen, indicating that he was still typing before more messages appeared.

At this point you were grasping your phone with both hands, like a lifeline, eyes glued to the screen, heart hammering so hard in your chest you felt nauseous and your hands were shaking. There was a chance, a glimmer, a hope and you were clinging to it.

Your fingers hovered over your phone, ready to forgive him, to forget, to run right back to the way things had been, to have him looking for you at the end of every game, for stolen kisses in the parking lot at the arena, to whispered I love yous as you fell asleep in his arms. And then more messages came flooding in.

More messages were coming now but you couldn't read any further. Your heart was battering around your ribcage like a pinball machine with the whiplash of information: your boyfriend of five years had been actively texting another girl... because she was easygoing, and fun to talk to and didn't stress him out… like you did.

Your tears were back like no time had passed from the night you broke up, heavy sobs coming from your mouth at how stupid you felt, at all the rumors being true. And did you really believe that nothing more had happened between them? He was Rafe fucking Cameron of the Carolina Eagles.

Your eyes skimmed over the second half of his message, about how you were it for him, about how much he loved you, how he wanted to marry you and for you to have his babies?? The ache of wanting that so desperately to be true and knowing it couldn't be was too much for you as you turned and cried into your pillow.

You recalled all of those messages now as a new one came in. You shoved your finger into the bruise on your heart, forcing yourself to feel that pain again, to imagine him laying in bed, in the bed you had slept in with him, while he texted another girl, maybe even texted both of you at the same time, and you refocused on your makeup.

You had faithfully followed the Eagles for five years, his teammates were some of your best friends, like brothers to you. Despite everything that had happened with Rafe, you weren't going to miss their game tonight. Rafe's best friend and linemate Nick had texted you earlier in the week to let you know he had a ticket for you.

Fine. It was hard to say no to that. Everyone you knew would be there anyway and you didn't need Rafe thinking he had power over you if you weren't there. So, you were going. And you decided if you were going to go you were going to look stunning, and as you put the finishing touches on your makeup, there was no doubt in your mind that you were.

You had spent more time on your hair and makeup than potentially every other game that season combined. You may have gotten a little comfy towards the end, wearing Rafe's team-issued sweatshirt with his name and number on it and a pair of leggings. He claimed that he loved you in that, but that wouldn't cut it tonight. You wore skintight jeans that accentuated every perfect curve of your body, heeled booties and a tight-fitting long sleeve shirt. Your hair was immaculate and your makeup was admittedly a little extra for an AHL game, but effortless nonetheless as it amplified your natural beauty. The pain in your heart had been ebbing its way into anger: you were going to make him regret every single thing he'd done, the thought nagging at you as your phone lit up again.

You huffed. You had been strong for weeks, and now he was throwing that at you?

Your perfectly manicured fingers hovered over your phone as you nibbled your glossed bottom lip, and finally relented.

What the hell? you thought, confused.

Feeling pretty good about your level of engagement, you sent another question mark before his response came in.

You scoffed before laughing out loud. He was truly unbelievable. You weren't on some sort of barter system here. This wasn't a deal you had ever discussed nor agreed to. This isn't how the world worked, this isn't how relationships worked. It was stupid. So so stupid. And Rafe wasn't the team's lead goal scorer anyway. Sure he was good for a flashy goal every few games, maybe two, but this was the semi-finals of the league championship, everything was on the line here, it was not the time to be playing games...

...But damn if you didn't love the semblance of power he'd given you over the situation, and you desperately wanted to fuck with him.

Four goals in one game. Essentially impossible. A joke. Sidney Crosby, arguably the best player in the NHL at the moment hadn't even achieved that. But not a second passed before his reply came through, simple, straightforward, no arguing or complaining:

"Done"

And then:

"I love you!"

"I'll be looking for you 😍"

You rolled your eyes, throwing your phone down on your bed, annoyed at yourself for even answering him.

And yet you couldn't fight the smallest bit of excitement you felt.

It was impossible. It was never going to happen, but Rafe Cameron was going to try to win you back.

(part two)

taglist: @gillybear17, @palmwinemami, @moremaybank, @one-sweet-gubler, @m-indkiller, @ihe4rttwd, @diary-of-jj, @crlsummer, @jjsbank444

[mrs-weasley-reid]

HUNDRED TWO POINT THREE

Aaron Hotchner x bau!reader

Synopsis: as they say, in sickness and in health, but Aaron Hotchner seems to take sickness too seriously. WARNING: a whole lot of nada (i hope). all fluff. overprotective!aaron (duh). not proofread !!!! Word Count: 912 A/N: THIS IS A REPOST of a req from my sweet, sweet lumi @egdropsoop when i was sick. i had to mourn accidentally deleting the original post. it felt so heart-wrenching. and i couldn't find the draft in my docs for almost a week, so it was another type of panic and heartbreak. this writer is such a dummy sometimes, but i hope rereading the fic in case it pops in your feed isn't so bad

 This week’s case, by far, has been the most difficult you have yet to experience. 

 Besides the buzzing summer heat of Los Angeles and the loud commotion in each corner of the local precinct, not only did you have to bring back sticky sweat and ringing ears, but you also brought back a mind-numbing body temperature of 102.3 degrees.

 With Emily’s driving and Spencer’s constant rambling, by the time you guys arrive at the airport, your body is creaking with chills and joint pain. 

 “Hey, hey, what’s going on?”

 You feel Hotch’s hands lay atop yours, prompting your brows to clash and your head to turn to your side where he towered over you. “What? I’m trying to make tea.” You say disorientedly, breathing quite ragged.

 It’s his turn to knit his brows. “Sounds reasonable, but don’t you think your cup has enough hot water?” You follow where he’s looking at your blushing red hand, steaming with heat. “You’re going to burn your hand at that rate.” He adds, lifting his gaze back at you. 

 He reads you for a moment. Your pinkish cheeks, heavy breathing, and disoriented state told him enough to make a deduction. They tell tales that are similar to those of a small Jack Hotchner after a venture in the rain or dry sweat over a fun visit to the park. 

 “You have a fever,” He informs you sternly.

 “No, I don’t.” Your nose crinkles, shaking his hands off yours and straightening up. The simple movement alone brings your head to spin, pushing you against the counter. You close your eyes, “M’kay, maybe I do.”

 Everything seems fuzzy, but you feel Hotch’s gentle hand over the small of your back, and you’re suddenly being led to one of the two couches in the jet, momentarily seeing a pouting Spencer Reid, woken up from his slumber as he mumbles to another seat.

 Hotch wraps his jacket around yours, squatting in front of you. "Honey, why don't you lay down? Get some shuteye." His voice is gentle in your ears. He squeezes your hand in his while the other brushes away loose strands off your burning face.

 “You okay, mama?” Derek turns from his seat, “Want some cocktail with that fun swirly straw you and Penelope love?” He jokes lightly in hopes that humor will lessen the throbbing in your head.

 “It’s not the time for jokes, Morgan. If you’d like to help, maybe stay quiet in your seat.”

 The entire jet shuts up.

 Emily and JJ’s low whispers halt as they shift their gaze from where Hotch blocks Derek’s view. Spencer tries his best to stifle his laugh, but Rossi only shakes his head.

 “She has a fever, Aaron. Not cancer. Let the lady sleep in peace.” Rossi interjects in defense of the team’s eye candy.

 Hotch ignores him, rolling his eyes. He maneuvers back to the kitchenette in search of some cloth and a bucket to fill with tepid water. 

 Derek settles back in his seat with a look of disbelief, “I thought I was dead for a second.” He mutters under his breath. “He’s gone full papa bear mode on her.”

 They watch as Hotch pulls heaven and hell in your favor. He makes tea. Even finds a can of soup from somewhere in the cabinets, wondering why none of them has ever seen that before. He goes back and forth, placing a cloth over your forehead.

 His goal is to get you out of feverish delirium by the time the jet lands back in Quantico. And Hotch is quite the mission-oriented guy.

 "Aaron..." You mumble almost unheard if only everyone isn't eavesdropping.

 "You need something, hon?" He gently blots the cloth over your face. His sleeves are rolled past his elbows, and a rivulet of sweat is over his temple from all the movement he's made in the past ten minutes.

 "Stop fussing and let me sleep, hmm? Go drink some scotch with Dave or something." You shoo him with one hand and steal the cloth from him with the other.

 Hotch shakes his head as if your eyes haven't been shut tight for a while now, prying the cloth off your hand. "Come on, now, sweetheart. I can't just leave you alone." He coos, successfully repossessing the damp fabric.

 It takes a toll on your body when you sit up, yanking the small towel a second time from his grasp, more aggressive this time.

 "Hey, be careful—"

 You raise a hand to shut him up, "Aaron Hotchner. Take a break, or I swear you won't have a bed to sleep in when we get home." You huff, willing your facial muscles to look as intimidating as you possibly can at your state. "And Jack will not side on you. We both know I'm his favorite. So get." You point at Rossi's direction.

 He sighs in defeat, leaving a kiss on the crown of your head. "Fine. But tell me when you need something—"

 "Start walking, Aaron," You shake your head, giving him a stern look.

 The unit chief trudges to the seat next to Rossi, where the older agents offer a glass. Before Hotch can even decline, you voice rings in the jet.

 "You better take that glass."

 He rolls his eyes, but does as you say.

 Everyone fights their will not to burst into laughter, or they just might get pushed off the jet.

hotch masterlist | masterlist

[hoshigray]

Alright, y'all, here's the plan: you're not quite aware of what Toji does for work, yet you keep quiet. But one night, the man comes home bleeding, and you can't keep your worries to yourself anymore. However, for your protection, Toji isn't ready to reveal his assassin business to you. And, in the heat of the moment, ends up saying something that hurts you instead...

A/n: (Reuploaded bc I forgot smthn) This prompt was picked from a poll to celebrate the 300+ followers milestone (pssst tysm for 450+ you lovelies :D) two weeks back. Truthfully, I don't think this is my best work after proofreading, but I did my best. Probably bc 1) it's longer than I intended, and 2) I procrastinated waaaaay too much with this. I don't even think I made sense halfway through, lol, but fuck it, we ball. Anyways, like last time, there is art drawn by me (@hoshigaby) but it'll be found deep in the fic :33

I hope you enjoy the ride and reblogs + replies are much appreciated!! Also, don't be alarmed that Y/n in the drawing looks of a dark complexion, feel free to use your imagination if it doesn't suit you. But do not edit it; be an adult and ignore it if it's not your taste.

Cw: Toji x fem!reader - arguing/yelling - fingering (fem! receiving) - mating press - Daddy kink - first Toji is sour, then he's sweet bc he's whipped for you :) - clitoral play (pressing down and a pinch) - praise - breast fondling + nipple play - pet names (angel, baby, darlin', honey, kid, mama/ma, princess, sweetheart/sweetie) - Megumi mean-mugging his father while Tsumiki and Shiu Kong tell him to do better lol - mentions of blood and stab wound; isn't fully healed so reopens.

Wc: 5.8k

"Uhh, are you sleeping on the couch?"

"Yes. Yes, I am."

"...Why??"

You scrunch your brow at your phone, looking at the two people you're talking to through the screen. "I know you're not about to get on my case over where I'm sleeping."

On the L-shaped couch lay you, cuddled up with a fluffy blanket and memory foam pillow, one hand holding your phone while another wrapped around a stuffed plushy. You were on a video call with your best friends: Utahime and Mei Mei.

Utahime, lying on her bed with a face mask, replied to you. "Oh, I'm definitely getting on your case because it's supposed to be the other way around!"

"True, but I like the couch anyways." You puff at the woman who's not satisfied with your answer. "Plus, I'm on the L-part of the couch, so it's practically like a bed!"

Your other friend, Mei Mei, chuckles at her screen. Icy blue hair pulled up in a bun with reading glasses positioned atop her forehead, probably counting her tips on her desk like she always does before bed. "My my, this is the fourth night this week. What did your man say to make you this upset?"

Memories of what happened before come back to you, and so does the exhausting irritation you've been trying to keep at bay.

It was a quiet night like this one as the rain fell hard on the silent streets. You've just put Tsumiki and Megumi to sleep and waited in the living room, watching a movie to pass the time. It was pretty late into the night when you heard the door open as drowsiness settled in. Nevertheless, you got up to greet the man you'd been waiting for coming from the entrance, but you weren't prepared for the sight that instantly woke you up.

Toji Fushiguro, groaning and leaning against the wall with his black jean jacket drenched from the rain. A hand was clenched on the left side of his torso, deep red tarnishing his plain white shirt. He was heaving in an attempt to even his breathing, but when he caught a glimpse of you standing before him, he was quick to try and play it off with a worn-out grin. "Hey, baby." His familiar deep voice was strained in subtle agony.

Worry bubbles within, and you rush towards him. "Oh my God, Toji, what happened!?" You remind yourself to not be too loud as the children are still asleep, so you rely on whisper yellings while walking him up to your shared bedroom.

Even in the room, Toji doesn't explain himself. Just silent hushes and cajoles that he's alright. "I'm fine, honey. Just tell me where's the first aid box." Pointing at the bathroom cabinet, you watch him leave your side to grab the kit. The crimson spilling from him is caused by a stab wound he reveals when he sits on the bathtub, lifting his shirt. You can feel your eyes water, imagining the pain he's going through when he hisses from putting on rubbing alcohol on the gash.

The words you want to say feel so forbidden. Your fingers fidget amongst themselves with the irregular beat of your chest. Don't say it, Y/n. Keep your mouth shut. Don't—

"Is this from work?"

Green eyes shoot back in your direction, and you immediately feel yourself sinking into a pool of regret.

Talk of Toji's occupation wasn't something you brought up much. Even at the beginning of your relationship, he didn't indulge in any insights about what he does, so you eventually quit after a few failed attempts. However, with all the nights he's come home while you sleep or the new scars you point out yet are brushed off, your anxiousness for him keeps festering. And seeing him with his own blood on his hands made you wonder how many nights he has pulled off doing such without your knowledge.

Toji's eyes go back to his wound. "Don't worry 'bout it." The stern tone of his voice has your blood turn cold. He didn't want to entertain this, especially in the wee hours of the night.

And yet you still persist. "No, Toji, I'm serious." You can see him glare at you through the raven bangs shading his forehead. A warning. But it doesn't stop you. "I'm getting worried about you."

From there was when the argument came. Every point you've made to him was shut down at once. His cold responses pierced you. Usually, you'd do what you can to avoid this type of confrontation. But now, it hurts even more when he doesn't cooperate with you, your concerns disregarded like rubbish.

"Damn it, Y/n!" Toji barks at you, seething through the physical pain as a fist bangs hard on the bathroom cabinet. "Why's it so hard for you to stay out of this?"

"Well, if you would tell me things instead of pushing me out the way, then maybe I wouldn't have to!" At this point, you're fighting the tears from falling. Your face hot with frustration, but you still speak. "Toji, I've done so much for you and the kids, and I—"

"No one told you to do—"

"Yet I STILL do!" It's your turn to yell. "I care about you deeply, same with Tsumiki and Megumi. I don't ask for much, Toji. But I want you to open your life to me just a little, even when you're hurt like this!"

His emerald eyes remain rigid despite your pleas to him. And what he said next had you still to the core. You can recall the beat of your heart corrupting your senses while the tears stride down.

"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."

"He said WHAT!!??" Utahime shrieks after you retell the situation to your friends.

You nod your head. "I just looked at him, and he looked at me. Then I turned, picked my pillow up, and headed downstairs to this couch."

To say the dark-haired woman was livid was an understatement. "And tell me WHY this fucker isn't the one sleeping on this couch, again??"

"Even if I did tell him to sleep on the couch, he probably would say something like, 'Tch, why should I? I pay bills for this damn house,' and yadda, yadda." This is true, apart from the man being injured, so having him move would've been immoral. "Plus, I just really wanted to get outta the room, so I went ahead and moved myself out."

"So? You pay bills too, what the hell!? Good God, Y/n," Utahime shakes her head. "You sure we can't pummel this dude?"

"Yes, I'm sure. Besides, I'm getting used to ignoring him when I see him around the house. But, oh my God, guys, his kids," the phone panned down to the plush toy and the pink, fluffy blanket. "Miki saw me sleeping here the other morning and gave me this blanket. And Gumi — he's such a sweetie. He gave me his favorite froggy toy to sleep with to scare off his dad from 'bothering me in my dreams.' "

"Hmm, how adorable." Mei Mei comments. "Funny how such darlings can come from a guy like that."

Utahime nods rapidly and throws in her opinion. "Listen, Y/n, you shouldn't think you outta be in every part of that man's life. Even so, he should at least know how to compromise. I mean, come on, you take care of him, the kids, the house, and go to work with us. All of that just for you to sleep on a couch!?"

"You're not gonna let this couch thing go, aren't you?" The pale blue-haired woman chuckles again, and Utahime sighs. "But she's right, Y/n. It takes a certain kind of person to have the patience to do what you do in a relationship with a single father and two children. I'm sure Utahime would've left with all her hair out."

The dark-haired one gets up from her bed and takes her device with her, heading to the bathroom to finish her skin care. "Now, why am I the one used as an example?"

"Because you're the most vocal about a relationship that isn't yours." A sly smile is painted on Mei Mei's face after she hears a 'hmph!' from the other as Utahime removes the mask and washes her face. "My point is that you like this man — love him even. But that love shouldn't cost you to be so emotionally drained. Perhaps he understands this, except it wasn't the perfect moment for you two to express yourselves. Maybe talk to him when you two stop the silent treatment."

All you do is hum aimlessly, too wrapped in what your friend said to give a proper response. Then you yawn, your body signaling you to finally rest. "I'll sleep on that thought. Night, girlies~~" You wave and send kisses to the other two. They do the same as you leave the video call, placing the phone on the coffee table and snuggling up with the blanket and plush toy.

You try to distract yourself by thinking of what you'll do tomorrow. You gotta get up and make breakfast for Tsumiki and Megumi before waking them up, then head to the station and take the bus to work. Maybe you can finally try that new café close by with Mei Mei and Utahime for lunch. And when you return home, you should whip up something fun for the kids to eat.

Perhaps, make something for Toji since he sometimes forgets to feed himself when you're not around. Or if he's leaving for work, wish him a safe trip back home like always. And...if he's down for it...you can find the right time......to talk...about......

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

The moment you closed your eyes, it felt as though you were sleeping on your own bed again. When you turn to your side, your body descends into the feeling of cold sheets beneath you. It was pretty comfy! Plus, the blanket—

Wait...Sheets?

Your eyes slowly open to the sight of bedsheets underneath you. Navigating out of the sleepy stupor, you make out parts of your surroundings to know that you're not in the living room anymore. You slowly rise up to face the door of the bedroom. Your shared bedroom.

A sudden cough alerts you, forced as if to grab your attention. A chill crawls up your spine. Oh God, no. You turn to the side to see the man accompanying his side of the bed. And there he was, Toji, lying on his side with his head resting on a hand, looking dead at you. His raven hair looked damp from a recent shower, sporting only a grey wifebeater and dark sweatpants.

"Hey," is all he says to you. No smirk and no nickname followed with the greeting. Just a simple address to you with his green eyes softly watching yours. You almost fall into their inviting spell the more you look at them.

Nonetheless, it's not compelling enough since you remember he's the man you fought with four days ago — the same man you weren't prepared to see right now. You quickly turn away from him and lift the comforter to exit the room. However, Toji grabbed your wrist before your feet could touch the floor, his grip too strong for you to pull away from him.

You avoid eye contact with him, your back facing him. "Toji, let me go. I'm going to sleep."

"Then sleep."

"On the couch, Toji." You try and pull again. Nothing.

"Fuck that, just sleep here. I didn't carry you up here for nothin'."

You shake your head as you exhale through your nose. Of course, he carried me here. "Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"

The words that left your lips surprised you and the grip around your wrist tightens. You didn't mean to say them, but it was the truth because they were his own words. Or did you?

Still facing away from Toji, you're unable to see his reaction. Oh shit, is he angry? Is he going to let me go after that?

"Darlin', please..." His deep voice hushed for only you to hear. "I just really need you with me here. Just for tonight...." His hold lessens, leaving you to decide whether you should stay.

The silence is uncomfortable for both of you — especially for Toji, who has you where he wants you to be, where you're supposed to be. As seconds pass when he doesn't hear from you, the nervousness that used to exist before your relationship rises back into the pit of his stomach. And his soul drops down when you remove your wrist from his hand.

Though, to his surprise, your hand lifts the comforter up while your legs move back on top of the mattress. You lay back down with a sigh, your back still facing Toji. "Did you give Miki back her blanket?"

Toji exhales quietly, situating himself back on his side of the bed. "Yeah, and Megumi with his toy."

You hum, and the silence fills the room once more.

Toji looks at nothing but your figure next to him, watching the rise and fall of your shoulder as you breathe silently, your face nestled comfortably on the pillow. To think it's been half a week since he last saw you in this room is hard to believe.

That night when you left him really stuck with him. The image of your face covered in tears was all he envisioned, the same with you grabbing your pillow and exiting the room. After tending his stab wound, he went down to talk it out. Yet when Toji saw you sleeping soundly on the couch with dried tears painting your pretty face, he didn't dare wake you up and just went to bed.

And it was worse the following days. Not only did he have you avoiding him at every chance, but he had to deal with the judgmental looks of his children. Never in his life has he seen Megumi give him glares that meant business. If looks could kill, Toji would be finished. And Tsumiki, his sweet little girl, now pesters him about being nice to Y/n, saying he should think about their feelings and apologize.

But what about his feelings? Does no one understand that he was just trying to keep you out of business that you didn't need to fret over? He's very aware that his job is not a normal one. It's dangerous, and anyone around him can get hurt or worse. Hence, keeping you away from this part of his life keeps you and his family safe. If not knowing he's an assassin keeps you from harm's way, why change that.

At least...that's what he thought, not what he said.

Even Shiu Kong, his handler, had something to say after telling him what had happened during lunch today. "Wow. I knew you were trash, but I didn't know you were that dumb, too." The man snickers when Toji shoves a middle finger his way. Shiu lights another cigarette after discarding the one he finishes. "Well, how were they supposed to know you were watching out for them? If someone you love comes to your front door bloody and sick, whose safety are you worrying about?"

Toji says nothing to that, letting the other man resume speaking some sense into him after taking a long sig from his cigarette.

"Look. I can't promise that this angel of yours wants to stay with you after what you said. That's all up to them. But until they decide that, I hope your dumbass realizes when someone sticks with you literally through blood and pain, that's someone who cares for you to the Moon and back. Not saying you should tell them what you do, but a nice word or two of comfort is all they need. If you're not that big of an idiot, reconcile and let them know you care about them."

"...Reconcile and let them know you care about them..."

If there's one thing that Toji has trouble with, it's knowing how to use his words. It was a tiny problem in the earlier stages of your relationship, but as time flew, you could guess how much the tall man cherishes you by his actions rather than words.

The older man knows that you know he loves you. But now, when he's pushed into a position where words are necessary to portray his real feelings for you, he feels stumped.

"If you were goin' to be a thorn on my side like this, I wouldn't have let you be in it in the first place."

Toji grimaces at his own words replaying in his head. Why the fuck did I say that?

"Whatever happened to you not wanting me to be a part of your life?"

Your words ring in his mind. Why did I fuckin' say that for? What the hell is wrong with me? What did—

"Toji?"

He returns to reality, eyes moving back to your still silhouette.

"I know you're still awake, so I'm gonna ask this." Toji braces himself for whatever your soft voice muttered. "Whatever job you're doing, is it a dangerous one?"

Shit. The dreaded talk is here, and Toji cannot escape it.

"Yeah."

"Are you good at your job?"

"It's the only thing I'm good at."

You nod your head aimlessly to his answer. Then you turn around to face the anxious older man. The moonlight peaking through the window blinds illuminates your face beautifully while Toji's breathing slows.

"I don't think that's true," you continue to answer. "You're good at being a father to Tsumiki and Megumi. Not the best, but a decent one nonetheless. You're also good at caring for me; letting me live with you and your family proves that. And lastly," Toji gulps with a dry throat.

"You're good at loving. You say you're lousy at it, but there's love in everything you do for me. It's there when you look at me whenever you think I'm unaware. Or when you silently grab my hand when in crowded areas. Or," a small chuckle exits from you. "When you carry me up from downstairs to the bedroom."

Toji's jade eyes lock in with yours, waiting for you to avert your gaze away from him. But you don't. You keep looking at him. You keep spoiling him. This type of recognition is something Toji never thought he deserved, so you giving it to him so effortlessly makes his growing guilt eat him alive.

"I care about you so much, Toji." You shift closer to Toji and bring a hand to his cheek, causing the man to lift his brows. Your face is only a few inches away from his. "What happened yesterday really scared me. All I could think about was the wound and all the scars you have. Where they all came from and how deep they are. Or......you never coming back."

"Baby..." Toji absently refers to you with a sweet name, placing his big hand on top of yours on his cheek. He lets you finish.

"I know you can't guarantee coming back to me unscathed, but I just want you to promise me something: please let me know you'll be okay. When you're gone, I can only hope you make it back home safely. So, just promise to not get yourself killed." A sheepish smile is used to ease the serious tone. "Even if I'm not in your life, I'm sure Tsumiki and Megumi would be pretty upset to not have you around."

Toji scoffs. "Trust me, I'm sure they'd leave me the moment you step out the door." That makes you laugh, and it has the man swooning hearing it. His hand moves to your cheek, and you allow him to stroke it with a thumb. "And I wouldn't blame 'em. Havin' such a beautiful and loving angel slip through my fingers?"

"Toji..."

"I'm sorry for what I said and scarin' you like that. If you aren't here with me, as part of my life and all, then I don't think I can't make a promise like that. You're too good fr' me, and I'm sorry if I didn't seem to appreciate you until now."

And you know he's genuine with his plea, his green eyes gauging your reaction to see if he's worth another chance. All you do is sigh and lift yourself up, wipe his wet bangs from his forehead, and kiss it. "Not the best apology, but I accept it."

He drones, relishing the feeling of your lips on him again. "So, are we cool, kid?"

"Yeah," you peer down at him with a smile, and he does the same. "We're cool. However, if you ever yell at me again, don't be surprised when I pack my bags."

"Oh yeah?" Toji raises a brow. "I'll be careful, then."

"You better." Hushed chuckles are shared to comfort the silence, enjoying the closeness between you two that felt like forever to have again. Just the two of you with you giggling above him and the light from the window cascading an ethereal glow to your features. Your teeth shied behind pretty lips, lips he wanted to kiss.

And you catch him looking. You notice him wanting you, needing you. Just as much as you need him. You slowly lean down to his face, planting your soft lips on his rigid pair.

Toji's surprised by the action for a moment, but he moans into your mouth and pulls you into him closer. The kiss starts off nice and slow yet quickly changes to one filled with passion and desire. Teeth clashing, tongues exchanging, sweet moans paired with aroused groans.

As you two are lost in each other's lips, Toji carefully maneuvers you on your back with him on top of you. Your legs find purchase around his waist as he rocks into your core, rocking your hips together in a steady rhythm by the second.

His hand snakes down to your lower region, fingers brushing past your pajamas and onto your panty-covered vulva. The intrusion has you breaking the kiss with heavy breaths filling the silent, moonlit room. He busses your chin down to your neck as shaky mewls slip out your mouth.

"Haaah, Toji, we shouldn't. It's late—Hmmm..." Your whimpers don't stop him from pulling your pajamas and undergarments off.

"It's okay, sweetheart, lemme make it up to you." He says in-between kisses on your clavicle, pulling up your shirt to reveal your bare chest. His free hand fondles a breast before his mouth goes for the other. "Let Daddy take care of you..."

The sudden combination of his thick fingers intruding between your nether folds and his mouth sucking and licking your sensitive nipple has you whining in bliss, your hand gripping his wet raven hair resulting in a satisfied groan from the older man. Toji missed this — missed you — close to him, under him on this bed.

One finger plays with your wet chasm for a few moments before it's inserted inside. A shriek is let out as your cunt adjusts to the digit. "Mmmph! Oh God, Daddy, your fingers...Ahhh!"

A soft 'pop' leaves from Toji's mouth when pulled back from sucking on your nipple, his tongue lapping around the sensitive nob. "What's that, mama? My fingers feelin' good?" You nod rapidly, but that's not the answer Toji's looking for, so he bites on your nipple gingerly yet hard enough for you to jolt. "Daddy wants your words, angel."

"Yesss, yes, your fingers feel soo good," You mewl to him, and Toji chuckles dangerously low while rewarding you with another digit in your slick-coated hole. His abrupt middle finger joins his forefinger in attacking your velvety walls, and your voice shifts higher in ecstasy.

The sounds of Toji's tongue licking around your nipple coincide with the squelches between his fingers and your gushy slit. Your brain starts to short-circuit.

"Ahh! Ahhh! Daddy, I can feel—I'm gonna," Toji's fingers pick up the pace. You're so close to release, you can feel it.

"Gonna be good and cum on Daddy's fingers, right, baby?"

"Mhmmm, I wanna co—Oh, Jesus, I wanna come. Hoooooh..."

"Then go ahead, princess. Mess 'em up." Toji comes up to kiss your forehead as his fingers go irrationally fast, and a thumb sneaks to press down on your unattended clit. With a choked cry, you spasm and cream on his thick digits. He watches you finish, loving the image of your head pushed back on pillows and your body arching towards him.

He dismisses himself from you once you're done, licking his fingers of your essence and taking off his wifebeater and pants. The image of his free cock has you biting your lower lip in anticipation as you discard your shirt to the bedroom floor as well. When you look at Toji, you notice the bandaged patch on his left side. He sees you glimpsing, quick to ease your concerns. "I'll be fine, darlin'. Won't go too crazy." Looking at his scarred body in a new light, you nod and follow his lead.

Toji carries your legs up to move to the right of his shoulder, situating you two into a mating press. His dick aligns with your glossy cunt. Precum meets slick and lubricates the two sexes pushing into each other. Toji coaxes you. "Too tense, ma. Relax fr' me." You prepare yourself with even breaths, and the man pushes into you with each exhale.

The head of his cock enters, a cry departs from your lips, and Toji hisses with the tightness of your slit. His hips go slow, making sure your walls accommodate every vein and dent of his dick as it ventures deep within you. Hits to your G-spot have you babbling incoherent prayers, gripping the sheets under you.

When his cockhead finally meets your cervix, you sob his name in rapture. Toji smirks, dialing the pace of his thrusts up. "Mmmm, Christ, yr' tight pussy. So fuckin' perfect fr' me."

Every stroke prompts a euphoric moan from you, drool escaping your lips as your mind turns into putty. The noises of his pelvis smacking on your ass feel so wrong to hear, yet you can't help but grip around Toji's girthy length. It gets worse when he presses his entire body weight on you, forcing you to take his cock and abusing your tender cervix with every deep rut.

As for Toji, he's enjoying seeing you writhe and pant under his bow. The corner of your eyes sprinkled with tears, your mouth wailing in euphoric chants, the way your cunt clamps around his dick when he grinds his hips deep onto your come-covered folds. He can never get enough of this, enough of you, driving him so fucking crazy.

"Daddyyy, I'm gonna—Ahhaaaa!!" Toji's now going at an erratic cadence, his cock churning your insides as his heavy balls slapping your folds being the only things you can listen to. Your whines get higher and higher while chasing your climax. "Cu-cumming, I'm gonna cumm—Ohhh!!"

"Hnngh! Oh, shit, fuck, fuck. Me too, kid, me too," Toji groans into your ear. God, his deep voice makes your brain mush. "Oooooh, want me to fill you up, mama?"

Your head nods frantically, tears now staining your face. "Yessss, please, Daddy!! I want it!" Toji hears your pleas and smashes his mouth into yours, moans swapped between lips with tongues daubed in saliva. A hand is moved down to your clit, pinching the spot between Toji's forefinger and thumb. And your pussy tightens around his cock one last time before you peak onto him.

The fluttery spasms of your walls clenching around Toji have him finish in three deep strokes, spurting his seed inside you before he relaxes his heaving body on yours. The kiss breaks with you two huffing and panting, the final moments of your high finally depleting out of your nude bodies.

His green eyes take in your dazed expression, calloused fingers wiping your tears away. "How's that for an apology?"

"You pervy old man," You chuckle to yourself, so out of breath. "You're more of a man of action anyway, so you pulled through. "

"Hehe, I'll take it." He cups your jaw with his big hand, your eyes locked in with his. "I love you so fuckin' much, baby. Sorry for ever making you think otherwise."

You blink once. Twice. Your hands come up to his face, and a finger swipes away black bangs stuck to his sweaty forehead. "I love you too, Toji. I would've left your ass if you weren't."

Toji smiles and leans in to kiss your swollen lips with his scared ones; however, a sharp pain stops him, prompting the big man to yell out. Worried, you try to assess what's wrong. Then you see it: the blood-stained bandage on his left side.

A gasp catches his attention, and Toji turns to what you're gawking at. His body freezes, seeing the trail of blood exit from his reopened wound.

"Ahhhh shit..."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

"Well, well, well," Utahime smirks at you through the screen. "I see you're not on the couch anymore."

You smile sheepishly as you lie on the pillows and headboard of your shared bed. Tsumiki and Megumi huddle beside you, napping blissfully around your presence under Tsumiki's pink blanket.

"Yeah, we made up last night." To avoid disturbing the children, you reply in whispers.

Mei Mei hums. "I see that. I assume you two had a nice talk about it?" You open your mouth, but no words come out. The two women quirk up a brow.

"Oh? I take it that there was more than just talking." Utahime chimes in, her smile going ear to ear while your eyes avoid the screen. "No wonder we didn't see you at work today. The dick so good it saved your relationship, huh?" She laughs at you hushing her up for using crude language while the children sleep. "Well, happy you two figured it out. But don't think I won't come over there and beat his ass the next time I see you on that couch."

"I second that," Mei Mei agrees. "But Uta can do the beatdown; I'm more interested in what he has in his wallet."

"Not much, I'll tell you that." you correct your friend. "I'm the one who takes care of his finances for safe-keeping."

"Well, that makes things easier for me."

The three of you laugh through your devices. Then you hear heavy footsteps drawing closer from the stairs. "Oop, he's back now. I'll talk to you guys later!" You hurriedly wave and kiss your friends goodbye before ending the video call. The bedroom door opens, and there he is.

Toji flashes a quick smile at you before it vanishes once he sees his kids nestled around you. "I was hopin' to get some alone time with you."

You giggle as you brush Tsumik's hair away from her pretty face. "You're back early. Is your wound okay now?"

"Hmph, yeah, thanks to you pushin' me out the way and grabbin' for the first aid kit." Toji pokes fun at you for the event from last night, where you immediately pushed the brawny man off of you and ran for the tools necessary to treat his open injury the moment you saw blood. You chuckle and watch the tall man climb into bed. "Doc said it should fully heal within a week or two. Why the squirts here?"

"They were happy to find me back in the room for a nap, so they joined me and kept me company." Megumi snuggles close to you for warmth, and you pick him up to your chest.

"Well, they're takin' my spot."

"I don't think they care."

Toji pinches your nose for your snarky remark, and you wriggle out of his fingers with quiet chuckles. His hand then cups your face and pulls you to face him, his emerald eyes softly gazing into you.

"You know I love the hell outta you, right?" His deep voice sounds sweet to the ears. You purr into his hand. "And I hope you know I'm the same for you." He nods. You smile.

He hesitates for a split second, but Toji leans close to kiss your tender lips. Only for a tiny hand to come smacking him in the face, halting him from further movement. To the shock of you both, Megumi was back awake, sending a mean look at his father.

Toji groans in annoyance. "What was that for, brat?"

"For making Y/n sad." Megumi keeps his hold on you secure as he and Toji mean-mug each other. Queuing Tsumiki from her slumber, defending you from her father. "Apologize or stay away!" The little girl warns the older man.

You're quick to break up the mini-fight amongst the Fushiguros. "Alright, kids, no need to worry about me. Your dad already apologized to me by promising to take us out for dinner tonight." Childish faces beam in delight while Toji shifts to instant puzzlement. "Now go get ready and put on your shoes!" Tsumiki and Megumi do just that, rushing out of your shared room and to their own.

When you can't hear the pitter-patter of little feet anymore, you feel big strong arms haul you into Toji's embrace, attacking you with tickles. You try to squirm your way out, but it's no use when he uses his body to cage you in. "Who told you to make promises on my name, huh? You tryna be bratty with me, kid?" He grins at your ticklish suffering.

"Then don't you—Oh God, stop!" It's difficult finishing your statement while fighting back laughter and screams. "Don't you ever yell at me again!"

He stops tickling you, thank God. You catch your breath as Toji looks at you under him with a proud smile. "I don't plan on it, sweetie. Now c'mere."

Toji finally has his lips placed on your soft ones, and you happily return the favor by wrapping your arms around his neck to pepper him with delicate kisses. But the romantic atmosphere vanishes when the children come and dogpile on Toji after hearing your ticklish screams, forcing the older Fushiguro off of you to deal with his kids with tickles of their own.

Observing the children laugh and squirm under Toji's merciless fingers, a soft smile adorns your face watching the domestic display before you and thinking how lucky you are to witness such a thing. Well, that's before all three of them turn to you and bring you another ticklish horror.

And despite the torture, your screams and giggles are filled with pure joy and contentment, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

[corollaservant]

Sweet Delight // Gojo x f!reader (18+)

Synopsis: You are too nice to be serving rude customers for minimum wage. Rest assured that Satoru will take care of it.

Warnings: yandere, obsessive behavior, noncon/very dubious consent, somno, stalking, knives, deception, mind games, murder mentions, violence (not to reader).. that's all.

A/N: Yan!Gojo is Joe Goldberg to me, idk. Beta read by my guy bsf who said the ending sucked (inspired by quote used in this book)

It started on a Friday afternoon.

He was a regular, came to the store every day to get his coffee. No sugar. Iced. The order was unlike him, he seemed sweet, or at least friendly and inviting, he had the type of eyes your friends gushed over when talking about their favorite movie stars, too blue, too inquiring.

At first he smiled and handed you a bill, told you to keep the change and asked you if he could sit outside for a bit. Of course, why wouldn’t he? The store offered it and he knew it, he was just being polite. He would read from a book, whose cover you couldn’t see, seemed too absorbed and you often wondered how he could concentrate with the café’s obnoxiously loud music (owner’s order to attract customers). He’d more than often catch bystanders attention, be it his white hair, his tall physique or his peculiar blindfold, which he wore sometimes instead of sunglasses, the man was attracting people like a magnet. This one time a couple of girls sat down next to him and talked purposefully loud. He lifted his chair and brought it closer to the register, closer to you. Yet, he still didn’t speak.

The first time he spoke to you besides a thanks and can I sit outside for a bit was when a customer harassed you verbally. You got the order wrong and while you offered a second free drink, he started calling you worthless. Your eyes watered and voice broke as he stepped in

“Please do not offend the barista, it was a simple mistake.” He spoke calmly while being twice the size of the customer.

“This is none of your business, sir..” The customer scoffed as he tried standing upright to make himself taller.

“I said.” Satoru sighed “Please get the fuck out the store or it will be..sir.” While there wasn't any physical threat, the tone was convincing enough to have the customer backtrack, hiss and leave the store empty handed.

“I'm sorry for that.” You told him as he looked at you.

“Don't be, this wasn't your fault.”

“I'm Satoru by the way, remember me?”

Of course you did, he was the most loyal customer.

—

It happened on a Friday afternoon.

Your shift started at 1 PM and ended at 9 PM sharp. Satoru had a meticulous routine: 1-3 was for observing. He wouldn't call it stalking, no, that word was degenerate and he wasn't like that. He was just observing you, your hands, as they moved, expressions as you skimmed milk and some of it spilled on the counter, your interactions with customers. He couldn't risk another incident like before. 3-6 was when he usually made an appearance. Black coffee. No sugar, iced and the table just across the bar; close but not too close. He was disappointed today, you hadn't looked at him once—well, in your defense the café was crowded, yet you still looked gorgeous, even with your sleep deprived eyes and disheveled hair, so soft and pure. He loved that. What would it take for him to get your attention? He found himself balancing between proclaiming his feelings and showing you them but decided on the latter. He would—today.

6-9 he had to wait in his car this time, it was raining but he couldn't leave you out of his sight, what if something happened to you? Your stupid manager had you close the store at 9 PM all alone in the dark, what a cheapskate cunt, not hiring a second person on the shift. Should he kill him? No, that’d be too soon. He would make an appearance before nine anyway.

8:40 was when he got out of the car, sloppily wearing a balaclava he’d gotten from Suguru (his seventh grade ninja Halloween costume) and his usual black work uniform. A knife was in his hands as he noticed you from across the road washing some cups. Perfect, you weren't looking but also careless of you, exactly as expected. He barged in the store and tried his hardest to make his voice drop an octave deeper, shit, would you recognize him?

“Give me your money or I'll stab you.” He was laughing internally but had to put on a fake growl, your expression was priceless.

“P—please don't kill me!” was the first thing you said (brokenly mewled) as your poor hands started shaking.

“I said now.” He said as he stabbed the blade in the air. Damn, that was too easy, you were too gullible.

“P–please I will, I–I am all alone.. one moment–'' Poor you, you had already started crying, tears were falling down your face but you didn't seem to notice. Should he stop this now? Probably.

“How incompetent are you? Are you this slow with customers too?” He decided to tease you a little longer, thriving off of your reactions.

Your eyes shot up for a brief second, was it the customer with Satoru a few days ago? He had said something along these lines, but this couldn't be. He was way shorter and had stopped coming ever since Satoru put him in his place. You were thankful for that.

Your hands opened the register as the paper bills you held threatened to soak, you still had one glove on... you looked a bit silly.

“Hey, hey..” Satoru’s voice quickly returned as the mask was removed “It's just me, see?” He whispered, trying to soothe the tone as your eyes widened.

“S–Satoru, what!?” Your voice trembled as the money fell from your hands and you took a step back.

“I wanted to pull a prank on you, I'm sorry if I scared you.” He smiled apologetically but you still couldn't utter a word.

“W-why would you do that? That's sick!” You cried out as he came behind the bar and tried to pull you in an embrace, knife now tucked in his jacket. To get close to you, to teach you a lesson, to make you need me would be his answer. You punched him on the chest, muffled cries fell from your lips. Well... you couldn't land a blow, that was for sure, but you looked cute with your clenched fists taking out your anger on him.

“F–fuck you!” His firm hands stopped your weak, aimless punches and you sobbed on his chest. You smelled divine, even at the end of your shift.

Was this love?

“Hey.. come on now, I said I'm sorry, okay?” He said as he pulled away.

“Came to say I'll stay with you till 9, it's not safe out there.” He promised as you wordlessly returned to the sink. He'd make you love him.

Around 9:10 you closed the store. His prank had slowed you down, exactly as expected, he figured it wasn't often you lost control and he was proud it affected you. It made you susceptible to control. You silently sat with Satoru outside while he insisted on driving you home.

“I don't need a ride. I'm fine.” It wasn't funny to tamper with your feelings like that, he didn't seem like the type and he'd taken you by surprise; actions like these didn't align with the image he painted for himself. He was always so kind, so protective, so—

“Give me the fucking store keys!” was heard before you turned your attention to the voice ahead of you. A man shouted, not too loud to alert anyone but enough to make a point. The street was empty and he was holding what seemed like a paper bag as you turned to Satoru.

This surely had to be another one of his pranks? You were about to laugh when you looked at him. He seemed taken aback, frozen in his spot and his eyes squinted as your heartbeat accelerated.

“What is it with this neighborhood and robberies?” Satoru talks after a while, his tone is confident as he looks at you and the guy growls. Why is he so calm?What is going on?—

“Shut the fuck up and give me the keys or I'll fucking blow your heads off!” The man says moving his hand to your direction, was this guy bluffing? Did he even have anything under the bag? Was your life about to end? It wasn't like people didn't talk about the criminals in the neighborhood—you’d never work there if it wasn't for necessity.

“And if we don't?” Satoru stops you from reaching for the keys as he fights hard to wipe off the grin on his face. Well, that was unexpected, but he isn't scared, he never is, as you interrupt.

“Satoru! P–please! Let me give him the keys!” You cry out, the day straight out of a nightmare the longer it drags on and you honestly can't put up another fight. You'd rather have whoever this was steal an insignificant amount of money from the register than end your life. Sure, there wasn't much to live for, but it was always different when under real threat.

“You’d give him the keys, really?” He scoffs annoyed. He couldn’t believe what a victim you were, couldn't you see he was right there for you? Despite his abilities you still failed to see him. Silly you.

“What c-can we do? He..he– and we–” Was this really the time? Why is he even negotiating this?

“Bitch, stop talking.” The guy spits, tired of your back and forth, as Satoru finally addresses him.

“That’s not very nice.” He is calm.

So calm that you almost don't see his fist obliterating the guy. One punch and he's knocked down, Satoru climbs on top.He pulls his fists down interchangeably but it's fast and you can't count, must be about seven that leave the guy with no time to react, hands to his sides as he yelps. Satoru reaches for his pocket and is about to grab the knife, when he feels two warm hands touch him and he turns around.

“P–please! Let's just go home!” You sob, eyes wide and the pain in your voice breaks his heart. Home, you said? He gets up and kicks the man’s limbs like a soccer ball—blood oozes down his mouth onto the curb and he chokes on some of it. Satoru's knuckles are stained but he gives you his hand as the pulp ahead withers.

Home.

-

He gave you clothes, a sleep set he had in his closet, you’d never know it was specifically tailored and cut out to your size, how would you know? It’s not like he’d tell you he stole (he called it borrow) articles you discarded at work. Your jacket when too hot, a change of pants as he brought them to the store's bathroom and returned them just as discreetly at 5:30 PM. They smelled like you, but he couldn’t categorize the odor, it was too hard. As for the color.. that he didn't care about. Anything would work really. His mind couldn't stop racing when he heard the shower head start, you'd never agree to his hospitality but that was his home, his rules. You also had a very rough day and it didn't take a lot to convince you.

He offered you his bed, he’d sleep on the couch and despite you objecting, he got you to comply. He could only imagine how much today drained you— physically and mentally. He let you sleep, he wasn't some monster, plus he had work to do. You’d wake up around 9, he calculated, so he had time.

When he finally sat down the couch, he couldn't sleep. Knowing you were there, so close and so vulnerable broke him. He didn't wait for his hair to dry — spot cleaning blood on the sink stole away his energy as he slipped on the bed, you were facing the wall and he placed his arms around you. You made no noise but you didn't seem to be sleeping heavily either, you’d slightly toss and turn. Poor you, was it a nightmare? He smelled your shampoo, it wasn't yours really but a variation of the ones you had at home as his fingers went through strands of your hair. He came closer, wanting to feel your body's heat and moved to your chest. His fingers sought your heart as he felt your pulse. A cock pressed against you—he’d been hard for some time and it wouldn’t go away as his palms searched for your nipples. One pinch and they were already hard, shit, he thought as he moved his dick on you. What if he went lower? Would you be a good girl for him? He moved to your belly as he put one leg softly over you, angling his cock directly at your cunt's entrance from behind while he rubbed against the folds, palms finding you from the front. He loved this embrace, all his to play with. He traced the slit and rubbed some more. You felt so soft and tempting. He’d bet no one could protect you like him and that gave him motivation. Yeah, that was right, he deserved a little thank you for his hard work. He fondles your cunt while his stiff cock annoys him, he’ll deal with it later. He buries a finger inside you, your cunt is wet, he thinks and you're not even conscious. Satoru pumps it slowly, it lubricates you in the process as it coats him halfway—he groans far from your ear and pushes another. You inhale sharply.

He pops them in and out until he fears he's becoming too fast so he removes his palm and uses your slick for his pleasure now. Boxers and sweatpants are removed as he wraps around the shaft, his precum gets smeared on his cockhead and he brings it down his base, it creates a wet mess and he gets off on it. He doesn't need much visually, your back softly breathing is enough to pump faster but— you felt so warm, he reasons, should he? You’d be his soon enough so might as well. He quickly turns to your side and lowers the set you're wearing (you'd think he intentionally sized up so it'd be easier to pull them down) as he pushes your panties to the side. You were a naughty girl, wearing a thong to work. Too dangerous, the world had many perverts. He puts his stiff cock on your entrance as he tries to shove just the head first; he hisses at the contact and you move, it's too late to back down now and he grows desperate. Within a second he tilts his hips into your needy cunt—he doesn't flatter himself, he's big so it's no surprise you groan and he assumes open your eyes. You feel tight and warm and he doesn’t care about your shock—he’s close.

“What.. agh—what are you doing?!” You're cut off in between moans as he ruts into you, you choke on a cry and he picks up his pace. His cock is stuffing you to the brim, it hurts but he can't be considerate. You feel like you can't breathe, dizzy from a nap and a repeated thump down your core. Yet, a primal instinct of pleasure washes away a conscious you telling yourself it's wrong and fuck— you moan out his name. Why do you moan?

“Shit, couldn't help myself, sorry baby.” He breathes out as he bucks his hips up and you feel too full.

“Satoru! S–stop...” But your pleas fall on deaf ears as he continues, hands caressing your chest and his breath on your neck while your hips are brought to clash onto his and nasty sounds come from the contact.

“Fuck, so pretty, baby, hm?” He moans and he’s already close, cock throbs as you prettily squeeze him in. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt like this before, it’s like you’re made perfectly to accommodate him and look at you!—clenching your cunt like some slut.

“N–ugh– Satoru please—” You cry out, scared but with a heat coiling low that makes you unable to protest louder. You think of his kind eyes, heartwarming grin (“Got these bad boys for you”, as he gave you your favorite cookies) but soon they're gone away—

—replaced by his cock rutting in your damp walls. You're unwillingly sucking him in, you can't think straight, he's... good? No. He's disgusting for this. Water blurs your eyesight—it's too much.

A hand is on your clit as he bites your soft neck at the same time. God, how he longed for this. Having you in his arms. He adored you.

“Want to come on my cock, like the helpless slut you are, baby?” He whispers but it's soft—like he's teasing you for missing the bus and you cry.

“I- agh-n-no..please—” You muffle and beg and his hand circling your clit slaps on the nub repeatedly as you jerk; “I can't—I–” He doesn't pay attention, his cock is ripping you apart and you have to let go—riding out an unwarranted orgasm. He loves your mess, no, he loves you and since you're conscious (not that it'd matter), he lifts your leg up as he angles himself so deep, you yell; overstimulated and still scared.

“Satoru, e–enough!” He's bottoming out in between sticky walls and you ache, hoping for an end.

“Don't be selfish baby—fuck!” He groans as large palms squeeze around your neck and then he's cumming — fast and as much as possible, you think. It feels warm and disgusting, his breathy moans are on your ear as you force your eyes shut. What doesn't make it inside, seeps back out but it’s not a lot, since you’re fully stuffed and he takes his sweet time to pull out. You just feel that good. He plants a kiss on your back as he returns with towels and puts you back to sleep. You cry—he estimates 15 minutes before you give up and let sleep take care of you.

One step at a time.

-

It's your 3 month anniversary. He doesn't tell you that of course, its embarrassing because it's 3 months since he found you, 2 days since he introduced himself. You still work at the café but you don't have to worry, soon you’ll never have to work again, he has big plans. He is proud of himself for finding you, it wasn't often someone intrigued him so much. He liked how genuine you were, naive and a bit dumb of course but that was exactly what made you so pure. He’d bet even at your lowest, you'd never cuss anyone out. Like for example that cunt of a customer the other day but it was fine, he’d do it for you, actually—

A message from Suguru pops up.

“Comin tonight?”

“No, have plans.” He gets bored easily and this time isn't an exception.

“Again? New record?” He can always read Suguru's irony. Funny of him to think he'd stop there.

“I told you I’d take care of it.” Satoru hastily types.

That guy really shouldn't have called you a bitch, it wasn't even in the script. Look where that got him. In Satoru's trunk ready to meet Mr. Worthless. He shuts his phone, he thinks about throwing it away, there's no need for it anyways. Especially when you're here.

He thinks about some quote his dad used to tell him, how did it go? Some are born to sweet delight—

14 minutes till your shift ends. What was it?

—some are born to endless night? It all makes sense now, it rhymes, that's why he still remembers it.

Or maybe you just give the first part a meaning.