#they have CRAZY possessive murder sex

[skyf0ckz]

I was watching scream and wanted to write a scream AU..but I have no writing motivation so here’s a drawing

[myfictionaldreams]

Accidents Happen // Mafia!Stucky x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were visiting a friend when you were accidentally hit in the face, leaving behind a cut across your cheekbone. How will Steve and Bucky react when they see their girl injured?

Requested by: @theatrelove3000​ (thank you so much for the message! I hope your eye is doing better and I hope you enjoy this fic)

Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, hints of winter solider, minor injuries/reader is injured, protectiveness, possessive behaviour, anxiety, pool sex, butt plugs, anal/vaginal sex, double penetration, handjob, multiple orgasms, sir kink, praise kink, size kink, bucky needs a hug, mentions of murder, not beta read

Words: 6.4k

my masterlist 📚 AO3 Link 

Making friends whilst being in close connection with the mafia was both easy and difficult. Easy because you meet hundreds of new people every month and difficult because many of them were dangerous and untrustworthy. On the rare occasion, a friendship would be created and even though you were busy nearly every day for the gang, you still attempted to spend time with them.

Especially on special days such as your best friend’s baby's birthday. You’d met Laura Barton through her husband Clint, whom you’d met through Natasha. The two of you instantly bonded over having partners in dangerous jobs and if you ever needed a break, she’d always welcome you to her home with a hot drink ready and the kids running rampant which was a great distraction.

Today, it was her youngest, Nate’s 2nd birthday so you’d spent the afternoon celebrating with cakes and toys with the family. By early evening, you were the only one remaining, finally having time to cuddle with the toddler who was playing with the plastic toy train that you’d bought him as a present.

“What time are you and the boys leaving for the hotel?” Laura asked in between bites of vanilla cake. 

Your head flew back to avoid the wild swing of Nate’s tiny arm as he continued to play with the toy, making little noises with his mouth that made you smile. “Um, I think around 7, it’ll only take us half an hour to drive there but I can’t wait! Even though we are going for work, the hotel is stunning, and of course, Steve had to buy the best room, I think we’ve even got our own private pool”.

Laura’s eyebrows raised, letting out a low whistle, “They really do live a life of luxury. If they ever want to treat Clint and me to a weekend away any time soon I’d be forever in their debt”.

You laughed at your friend, “I’ll see what I can do”. Turning to look at Nate and poking the tip of his nose, “Do you think mommy deserves a trip away?” As you asked, you made the grave mistake of not watching his arm and there's one thing about toddlers, it was that they were surprisingly strong as he swung the train toy and accidentally smacked you in the face with it. “Oof, ok I’m taking that as a no”.

“Shit! Are you ok? Nate be careful”, Laura chastised to her son as she took him into her arms.

“It’s ok, he didn’t mean it, I’m fine”.

“You aren’t fine, you’re bleeding!” Laura was looking at you with wide eyes.

You were still slightly in shock, trying to remain calm to not scare Nate but you couldn’t deny it, your face was throbbing. Excusing yourself, you rushed to the bathroom and glanced into the mirror. “Shit, the boys are going to go crazy”. The toddler had managed to hit you right underneath your eye, the sharp corner had cut the skin and the surrounding area was already swelling and felt tender. Sighing to yourself, you cleaned the bleeding cut, thankfully it wasn’t deep enough for stitches and the bleeding had stopped already but with the location, you knew you’d probably end up with a black eye over the next day or so.

After you finished cleaning up, you spent a couple of minutes contemplating what the fuck you were going to say to Steve and Bucky. There wasn’t any way you’d be able to hide it with makeup and there wasn’t anything they hated more than seeing you hurt and you knew an overreaction was coming your way. Should you call them or tell them in person? At least in person, you could stop them from running off on a vengeance before you could even explain what had happened so decided you’d wait to tell them.

Leaving the bathroom, you found Laura waiting anxiously with the kids all playing in another room. She took one look at your face before mumbling, “Shit. Does this make me number one on the Rogers mafia hit list?” she joked but you knew she was also slightly serious.

Walking closer to your friend, you took her hands and grinned, even though the action hurt your cheek. “Not it doesn’t, it’s absolutely fine, the boys love Nate they’ll forgive him for anything. I should probably go through, face the music now rather than waiting around”.

You called Sam to pick you up and he text you once outside. Giving Laura and the kids a big hug, you reassured her once more that everything would be ok before leaving her house and walking down the path to the parked SUV with Sam in the driving seat. As you saw him, you waved happily, trying to appear as at ease as possible to keep the tension calm.

However, the moment you were close enough for him to notice the injury to your face, his smile dropped, eyebrows frowning as he hastily got out of the car, rushing to you. “Sam it’s fine-”.

“Who did this to you?” he asked urgently, hands cupping your jaw and tilting your face so he could examine your cut closely. Sam’s face was contorted into anger, something rarely displayed by your bodyguard and friend as he usually likes to be sarcastic and funny when around you.

Lifting your hands, you held onto his wrists, trying to pull him away but he held strong having not finished checking your injury. “Nate accidentally hit me with his toy train… A TODDLER hit me Sam so please relax”.

Thankfully he did. The tension in his shoulders eased as well as the frown on his face. Eyes still flicking across the cut, he instructed, “Tell me when it starts to hurt”. Carefully, he pressed his fingers across your face, inching towards the wound and you informed it where it began to be tender, so he knew just had big the injury was and how bruised it was beneath the swelling. It took a couple of minutes before he seemed somewhat at ease about the injury, finally looking away from the injury to look at the rest of your face before the corner of his lip turned up, “so a baby hurt you this much, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, gently pushing against his shoulder, “Yes! He’s stronger than he looks and yes, I am very embarrassed so please never bring it up again”.

Sam laughed as well, placing his arm over your shoulder and turning the two of you back towards the car. “Oh, you know I’m going to bring it up at any opportunity right?”

Rolling your eyes, you climbed into the car, pulling your seatbelt across your front as he did the same in the driver’s seat. “I could just have Steve or Bucky demand you to never bring it up again”, you suggested unseriously.

Sam’s smile faltered as he began to drive the two of you to the office, “I’m assuming you’ve not told either of them yet? Feel like we need to call everyone in to try and keep them both calm, they’re going to go apeshit when they see you”.

Sighing heavily, you had to refrain from wiping your face. “I thought about calling them but I know they wouldn't listen to me after I’ve told them about it so decided it was better to tell them in person. I just hope that it doesn’t ruin our trip away, I mean, maybe they’ll be calm because it was a baby, there will be no need to go on a vengeance tour of Brooklyn”.

Sam looked towards you with an awkward smile and that’s all you needed to see to know that was most likely not going to happen today.

Arriving at the warehouse, you tried to ignore the glances from other gang members when they noticed the cut to your face, a tension quickly building in the atmosphere which only meant your anxiety increased. You tried to smile at everyone to ease the nerves but it didn’t seem to work. It was only as you and Sam walked into the elevator and it was just the two of you did you release a deep, aggravated groan.

“I’m screwed aren’t I”, you say, glancing at Sam as he rolled up his sleeves like he was preparing for a fight.

“You aren’t screwed, I think you’re the only one who is actually safe”, he reminded you as the doors opened to the corridor to Steve’s office. The two of you walked at a slow pace, your head hanging low so that you didn’t see Steve and Bucky’s bodyguard waiting outside of the closed office door.

“Who died?” Natasha joked, seeing the solemn reaction from you both. Your head snapped up to her, about to reassure her that everything was fine but the words floated away as her grin instantly dropped at seeing your cheek. “What happened?” she asked in an authoritative tone, closing the gap with a single step, hands gripping your face much like Sam had.

Trying to keep your voice as steady and as calm as possible, you explained, “Little Nate decided the toy train had better use on my face than in the normal way”.

It took Natasha longer than usual to believe you, only accepting it as she glanced towards Sam who nodded his head and let go of your face. “Well… we’re all in for a long night then”, she joked but this time there was a hint of warning in her tone.

“Don’t say that, you should have seen what it was like downstairs”. You took a deep breath before continuing, “It’s going to be absolutely fine. I’m going to walk in there, explain to them that a toddler hit me in the face, let them have a little freakout and then we are all going to remain calm and continue with our trip away and it’s all going to be fine”. Niehter Sam or Natasha seemed convinced so you sighed once more, chewing on your bottom lip with nerves. Shaking your head, you rolled your shoulders to try and look as unbothered as possible, “I need to get this over and done with. If either of them leaves, could you follow them please and make sure they don’t do anything stupid”.

“We can try our best, boss lady”, Sam responded for the two of them, walking towards the office door and holding it open for you.

Taking a deep breath, you walked into Steve’s office, seeing both of them sitting at the large oak desk that was positioned in the centre of the room, laptops in front of them, face set with concentration. As your mouth opened to announce your arrival and quickly explain what had happened before they could freak, Steve’s eyes had already glanced away from his screen.

“What the fuck!” he growled, standing with such force his seat toppled over as he stormed towards you. “Who did this to you? What happened?” Steve was in front of you within half a second, his hands cupping your face, eyes full of a whirlwind of seething anger, worry and concern.

“Please don’t freak out, it’s absolutely fine, it was just an accident”, you managed to say as your face was turned in different directions by Steve as if the size of the cut would change but it remained the same. As Steve finished his inspection, Bucky was right there over his shoulder, eyes full of fury as he too checked the cut but then continued further past just your face. 

“Accident or not, I’m fucking killing someone”, Bucky barked, lifting your arms and searching for any more injuries and it was only as he lifted the front of your shirt did you push his hands away and take a step back.

“Both of you just wait, please. Absolutely no killing is happening because it was done by a two-year-old” you emphasised, not sure if they were even listening as they crowded around you. Placing a hand on either of their chests, you tried not to concentrate on the pounding of both of their hearts beneath your palms as you explained. “I was sitting with Nate, he was playing with his toy train that he loves by the way. I happened to get too close and didn’t see him swinging the toy and it caught me across the face and let me tell you, that boy is strong!”

You grinned to show the humour, looking between Steve and Bucky, waiting for any sort of reaction from them. Both sets of ocean-blue eyes were flicking from your mouth to your injury and just as you were able to explain again to them, it was Steve who moved first by cupping your jaw with his hand, this time it felt more comforting rather than him assessing you.

“Right let me just make sure I’m understanding this, Nate hit you in the face with the toy that you bought him and caused this much damage?”, he tilted your chin as he finished his sentence to show off your injury more.

“Yes that is exactly what happened. You can check with Sam if you want. Nate is a lot stronger than you’d expect someone so small to be”.

Steve nodded whilst taking a deep breath to try and calm himself down but his heart was still pounding under your hand. Leaning down, he kissed your forehead, showing his understanding of the situation. “How does it feel? Does it hurt?” he questioned, his blonde eyebrows furrowing in concentration.

“It feels tender and bruised but only when I touch it and I can see the swelling out of the corner of my eye but otherwise it’s fine. I’ve had worse that’s for sure”, you tried to once again defuse the tension with a little joke but all it caused was Bucky’s jaw to tighten.

Steve noticed too and suggested, “Why don’t you go and wait by the car baby, we just need to wrap up everything here and we can start heading to the hotel

It was a simple idea but put you on edge with worry as Bucky had yet to say anything or snap out of the protective trance. Instead of arguing with Steve, you nodded, knowing that Steve could handle Bucky when he was like this and it was best to leave the two of them to it.

Stepping out of the office, you released a long heavy breath, now facing Natasha and Sam who were waiting in a stance like they were ready to tackle someone but relaxed seeing that it was you. Glancing over your shoulder, they were surprised when no one else followed after you. “Everything ok, Sugar?” Natasha questioned uncertainly.

“I’m not entirely sure. I think Steve’s ok but Bucky… he didn’t say a word to me. I think they’re having a talk so I’ve been sent to the car like a naughty child”. Sam chuckled, finally stepping forward and holding his elbow out for you to take.

“Well let then me escort you to the car m’lady”, he mocked and managed to pull a smile to your lips as you accepted.

It took nearly 45 minutes for them to finish whatever talk that needed to happen, and you’d hoped that Bucky would rush to the car but it was quite the opposite. He inclined for Sam to get out of the car and they spoke out of sight.

Sam wouldn’t be coming with you to the hotel, it was just supposed to be you and the boys so you waved to him in farewell as he climbed out of the car. Steve then slide in next to you, closing the gap in the middle so his body brushed against yours as you blinked up at him with a worried expression. Once again, his hand slide along your jaw as he kissed your temple. “You know I hate seeing you hurt”, he admitted against your skin before pulling back and looking at you with an apologetic gaze.

“I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you have to shut me out”, you countered, lifting your hand to stroke along his stubbled cheek.

“It doesn’t”, he contemplates. “But, I also don’t want you to see me in this state, the things going through my mind when I saw your face, I was just about ready to kill everyone in this building to find out what happened. No one hurts what’s mine”.

Your heart was thumping hard in your chest at his passionate declaration. “Yes, but that doesn’t mean you have to push me away. I know you don’t want to see me hurt but accidents happen and if there was something wrong, you know I would call you immediately”.

Steve’s eyes softened, “Yes I know that now but, it doesn’t stop the panic that I feel when I see you’re hurt”.

Shifting even closer so that you could kiss his cheek, you continued, “I’m sorry for scaring you, it’s hard to tell you when these things happen, I don’t know whether I should call to prewarn or wait to see you in person”.

Steve’s lips lowered to yours, giving you a quick kiss to your lips, “We’ll figure it out”.

“What about Bucky?” you asked nervously.

“Buck might need a little more time, he’s still struggling to process his emotions”.

This did little to ease your anxiety, especially as the said man got into the driver's seat and didn’t say a single word to you, only glancing at you from the rearview mirror for a moment before beginning the drive to the hotel.

Steve easily managed to fill the silence with natural conversations which did little to distract you from the nerves of Bucky not talking. Even when the three of you arrived at the hotel and were shown to the penthouse where you’d be staying, Bucky didn’t say a word. After a quick tour of the breathtakingly beautiful surroundings which included a kitchen, living room area and pool that overlooked the city, you decided to go and freshen up.

After returning in a flowing dress that felt more comfortable than the jeans and shirt, you looked for the boys but only found Steve who was leaning against the kitchen island, staring at a spot in deep thought. “Steve?” this snapped him out of his trance as he instantly looked at you, standing to his full height. “Where’s Bucky?” you continued to look around but didn’t see him and by the look on Steve’s face, you knew you wouldn’t find him. “Where is he?”

“He said he needed a moment so has gone to the bar a few floors below”. Your shoulders dropped hearing this, feeling awful that he was struggling so much. “He’ll be ok sweetheart, he just has his own demons that he’s trying to fight with at the moment, you know the sort of headspace he gets into when you’re hurt”.

“I know but I haven’t seen him like this for a while, I guess I thought that side of him was over”. Sometimes when Bucky was overtly stressed with work, or needed to protect someone, particularly with regards to work, it was almost like his mind would shut down and someone else would take over. It was hard for him to deal with especially as he tended to get his emotions out violently when like this but as he hasn’t had an outlet today, he felt the need to separate himself from everyone. You knew he would never hurt you, even when he was like this so you asked Steve, “What floor is the bar on?”

Steve walked down with you and you both found him sitting on a stool in front of the bar with a very large glass of dark liquor on the bar in front of him. Steve decided to stay back and let you talk to him considering his talk earlier seemed to have done nothing to help him but reassured if you needed anything just nod.

As you walked towards Bucky, you thought about what you were going to say but your mind seemed to be completely empty of thoughts as you were so anxious you felt nauseous. Stepping next to him, he made no move to look in your direction or acknowledge your arrival and continued to stare forward. Every single muscle in his body was tense, eyes blazing with a look that you hadn’t seen in eyes like he was figuring out a way to murder everybody in the room. Your eyes flicked over his face, noting his jaw was so tense it looked like it was going to break. Unsure whether to touch him or not when he was like this, you said the only words that sprung to mind: “I miss you”.

Bucky’s entire body shifted, all of the tension seemingly melting away like a reset button had been pressed, as his eyes softened their glare as he flicked them to finally look at you. Seeing the change in him and drawing his attention, you reached across him to grip his metal hand, lifting it up to your face and reeling in the recognisable coolness of the metal against your uninjured cheek.

Turning to kiss the metal palm, you repeated, “I miss you Bucky”. There was even further relief when the pad of his thumb stroked across your cheekbone. Your boyfriend doesn't say a word, he didn’t need to as he stood from the stool, towering over you as he wrapped both of his arms around your shoulders, pulling you flush against his chest, his face nuzzling into your neck, taking a deep breath against your skin which seemed to also calm him further.

You hugged him back just as fiercely, eyes squeezing tight as you clung to the back of his shirt, probably crinkling the expensive material but neither of you cared. After a couple of minutes, he finally began to pull back enough that your arms could wind around his neck, pulling him down so you could kiss him passionately, ignoring the ache in your injured cheek from the movement.

His hands clenched around your waist at the kiss until you pulled back but that was only so you could kiss his cheek repeatedly whilst whispering, “I’m so sorry I’ve scared you Bucky, everythings ok I promise but I need you to be here with me and Steve”.

Bucky didn’t say anything at first, his only response was a nod as his body continued to try and calm down from its heightened alertness. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity he said with as much passion as possible, “I’m sorry, I love you”.

“I know, it’s ok, I love you too Bucky, now let's go back upstairs and relax for the evening, ok?” he nodded his head in agreement, his hand clasped around yours as you pulled him towards Steve who smiled at the two of you.

In the elevator up to your floor, Steve turned to Bucky and placed a tender hand on the back of his head, pulling him roughly into his side, “It’ll be alright Buck”, he spoke tenderly into his ear before kissing him on the side of his head. The sight had your chest warming at the intimate show of support from the mafia leader but your thoughts didn’t dwell as the elevator dinged to indicate arrival to the penthouse.

The three of you opened a bottle of champagne and watched the sunset over the city before you decided that it was time for the pool and needed a moment to get ready. As you stood in the bathroom, you decided to continue with the plan that you’d had since you knew you were coming here. Of course, when travelling anywhere, especially somewhere this beautiful, you would want to be intimate with them both and you were hoping to take them both at the same time. So, you had decided to prep yourself a little bit with the use of your favourite butt plug and then when the three of you were ready, they could simply take it out and save the time of prepping.

It took a few minutes to work inside of you but you were happy to see the jewel gleaming from within your arse cheeks and then continued to dress into your swimsuit. You looked somewhat ridiculous with the stunning swimsuit and swollen cut to the face but it would have to do as you finally exited the bathroom.

Bucky turned to you first, hearing your footsteps as you approached the edge of the water but it was his raised eyebrow and deadpan expression that had you faltering. “What?” you asked, looking down at yourself and wondering what was out of place.

“Doll, seriously? We have our own private pool and you still think to change into a swimsuit?” Your cheeks warmed at the realisation that both Steve and Bucky were completely nude in the water and with a small smile, began to remove your own swimsuit which captivated Steve and Bucky’s attention, especially as you revealed your breasts.

As the material gathered at your waist, you turned on the spot so they were looking at your back, you bent forward to fully remove the outfit but it also gave them the perfect view of your arse with the butt plug on display.

“Fuck”, Steve cursed under his breath as he moved towards the stairs just as you began to walk over, holding out his hand for you to take and carefully descend into the water, being careful not to splash your face too much in the process. The water was the perfect warm temperature and it felt so relaxing to be almost weightless as Steve pulled you easily through the water you couldn’t reach the floor like he could, until you were near the edge, looking out over the city with Bucky on the other side of you.

The three of you huddled close together, your arms holding onto the edge of the pool, enjoying the ambience and serene moment of blissful quiet. However, Bucky couldn’t keep himself restrained for long as his hours of not seeing or touching you were beginning to get to him. Sliding behind you, his arms crowding you closer to the pool edge, his lips kissed delicately below your ear, moving south down your neck and to your shoulder. You tilted your head to the side to give him more room, releasing a soft breath at the tingling sensations his lips were causing, especially as his stubble brushed against your skin.

“You’re so beautiful”, Steve admired from beside you, his words making your cheeks flush with warmth at the compliment.

“Even with a black eye”, Bucky joked from where he was kissing the top of your back. You let out a shocked laugh, attempting to elbow him in the ribs but he easily held your arm away as he chuckled. The noise and joke were welcomed from him though to know he had calmed down enough from the initial shock of seeing you injured. “Could I make one request for tonight?” Bucky enquired, returning to kiss the pulse point on your neck.

“Yes?” you asked, already sounding a little breathless as you lazily moved your legs through the water, still holding your weight up by holding onto the edge.

“Don’t hold your noises in tonight, even though we are outside, I want this whole damn city to hear you”, Bucky grunted as he thrust his hips against your lower back, making you feel his considerably hard cock. Once again, your body warmed thoroughly at the thought of those a few floors below potentially hearing through their open windows but that also turned you on, knowing people could hear how much your boyfriends were making you feel good.

Nodding your head in answer, Bucky’s hands began to graze over your stomach under the water, stroking near your hip where you had a particularly sensitive spot that had you shivering and leaning further into him.

Steve’s hand cradled your chin, turning your face towards him where he began to kiss you desperately, his tongue immediately teasing the seam of your mouth to gain access that you granted instantly. You moaned as his warm muscle twisted with yours, loving the dominance of the kiss as he easily stood over you in the pool with his tall stature. 

Bucky’s metal fingers then began to do their own exploration as they travelled between your legs, first stroking over your pussy lips, giving you a little warning for his next movement before he pressed more firmly until he was rubbing your clit. He moved in slow circles, and your hips jerked at the action, more moans rumbling from the back of your throat and into Steve’s mouth.

The blonde man pulled back first, breathing heavily as he instructed, “What I want you to do is take Bucky and after you cum, we’re going to fuck you at the same time, understand?”

“Yes, sir”, you automatically responded, your arousal aching in your core.

“Good girl”, Bucky praised as he shifted his position but continued to play with your clit as he moved. His lower half moved further beneath you so your body was moved a little out of the water, revealing your breasts to the cool air as you balanced on his body. The tip of his cock nudged against his fingers at the apex of your thighs, and with a flick of his hips, it moved to your hole. Even though you were in the water, he still took his time, being careful to not move too quickly as he stretched your cunt. Each inch that moved in had you gasping and moaning, grabbing tightly onto Steve’s arm that shot out to support your body from toppling forward. “That’s it, you’re taking me so well, Doll”, Bucky continued to encourage you as soon his hips were flush against yours which meant that he subtly pressed against the plug in your arse which only added to the heightened pleasure.

“Feels so good Bucky”, you say, closing your eyes for a moment to try and savour the feelings but then they snapped open as Steve began to squeeze your nipples. Your back arched into the touch, loving the twists and pulls he was doing to them that sent shivers straight to your centre which only meant that you kept clenching around Bucky.

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky finally began to move, slowing his fingers at your clit to match the pace of his thrusting. Each snap of his hips would cause the plug to be pushed and even his cock within your pussy was brushing against it, you already felt so full and you only had one cock in you. The motions increased as Bucky nuzzled into the back of your neck, the water surrounding the three of you splashing over the edge.

As you got used to the position and pleasure that was being pounded throughout your body, you felt aware enough to reach into the water and grip Steve’s throbbing shaft. It floated in the water and you could feel it bob at your touch as well as Steve’s very audible gasp. He always did love it when you pleasured him so even though Bucky’s cock and fingers were very distracting, you attempted to try and also make Steve feel as good as you felt.

“Fuck, I love the feeling of your hands on me baby”, Steve grunted, thrusting into your palm as you squeezed harder, moving up and down the shaft in time with Bucky’s cock. Steve’s eyes closed, head tipping back as he fell into the pleasure, but his hands never stopped with both supporting your upper half and squeezing your breasts whilst tweaking the nipples.

Bucky moved faster now, feeling your pussy clenching harder around him, his fingers swiping back and forth in firm motions. You didn’t even need to tell him that you were going to cum, from the feeling around his cock and the sweet moans escaping your mouth, he knew you were close. He fucked you harder which meant your hand moved faster up Steve’s shaft.

“Oh-God, yes!”, you chanted, eyes closed as you squeezed Steve’s cock hard as the pleasure took over you, Bucky not stopping his thrusts as you came, extending the length of your orgasm as he continued. All until Steve quickly cursed and grabbed your wrists, pulling your hands away from him did your pussy stop fluttering as you looked at him in worry. “Did I hurt you?” you asked, realising that you were probably squeezing too hard.

Steve chuckled, a light pink shade tinging his cheeks as he shook his head, “No baby, you were going to make me cum if you carried on like that”.

“Oh”, was all you managed to say as you felt proud of yourself for making him nearly cum so quickly.

Bucky laughed under his breath at your reaction, kissing the back of your head before easing his cock out and wrapping his arm around your waist so he could move you further away from the wall, giving Steve room to move in front of you. Both of your hands moved to his muscular shoulders, holding on as Steve pulled both of your legs around his waist, the waterline now at your navel.

Bucky's warm hand massaged one of your arse cheeks as he instructed, “Relax for me,  Sweetheart”. You made sure to ease all of your muscles down as he gripped onto the butt plug and began to slowly pull it out. You gasped loudly at the feeling of your hole stretching around the toy before relief as it moved past the thickest part.

Bucky dropped the plug, declaring that he’d retrieve it from the bottom of the pool later and began lining up his cock at your asshole. You mewled into Steve’s shoulder as you felt the thick tip breaching your hole, the stretch was just as intense as the other hole but he moved slower this time, making sure not to hurt you.

“You’re so tight, shit”, Bucky groaned as you took his length, his hands flexing against your hips as you tried to adjust to him. After a long moment, you nodded your head against Steve and felt him moving his hips, the tip of his cock now penetrating your cunt, slowly but from the fucking by Bucky, it didn’t take you as long to adjust.

As they both were fully inserted into your holes, you let out a desperate moan, feeling so full it was nearly overwhelming. Your thighs were shaking in Steve’s grip around his waist and you wanted to speak to tell them how good it felt but your tongue felt heavy in your mouth so you told them through moans and mewling noises.

Steve moved first, pulling out a few inches before moving back in. Then Bucky copied his action. Both of your boyfriends fucked you, their thick cocks stroking against every single nerve and with the way your legs were wide and spread to be wrapped around Steve, your clit was brushing against his abdomen.

Your head dropped back against Bucky’s shoulder and you had to refrain from hissing as you accidentally brushed the injury of your face against his stubble. However, with the overwhelming pleasure that was being fucked into you, you didn’t vocalise the momentary discomfort and simply turned your face away so it didn’t happen again.

With how much you were being stimulated, it didn’t take you long to orgasm again, your body tightening like a coil around both of their cocks as waves of pleasure pulsed through you.

Bucky let out a deep groan and that was your only warning as he came suddenly, the feeling of your tight ass around his cock was too much for him and he was already so pent up from the day that he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His balls emptied everything within them into your ass, his teeth biting into the junction between your neck and shoulder as he grunted your name over and over until there was no more cum within his body.

You shivered as he pulled out, wishing you had a camera under the water to see the cum seeping out and clouding the water slightly. Bucky’s hands moved to under your thighs, taking them out of Steve’s grip as he took your weight instead so that Steve could fuck you without any restraint.

With your eyes half-lidded, you watched as Steve leaned forward, one hand on your waist and the other on Bucky’s shoulder, using the two of you to help ground him as he continued to fuck your pussy. With the more sturdy position, he was able to fuck you as hard as he could with the water adding some restraint so that he didn’t hurt you.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving little crescent-shaped dents in the skin but he enjoyed the sparks of pain that came with it. “I want you to orgasm one more time for me baby, I know you can do it”.

You shouted out in pleasure at his words, hearing the desperation in his tone so you knew he was holding back from cumming because he wanted you to do it one more time. Steve fucked you, hard and fast, water splashing everywhere as Bucky continued to hold onto you tightly.

It didn’t take you long to cum again, especially as Steve dipped his head and began to suck on each of your sensitive nipples. By the time your pussy stopped pulsing around him and you were becoming entirely too overstimulated, Steve finally shouted and stilled his thrusting, his cock throbbing with each spurt of his cum as he filled you up.

The three of you took a couple of minutes to catch your breath and stretch your muscles from being in the squished position. “At least we’re in the water, don’t have as much of a clean up”, you joked as the cum mixed with the pool water. Bucky laughed before ducking into the water and returning with your butt plug.

“For you, hot mama”, he handed over the toy and kissed your cheek before helping you over to the stairs but swiftly picked you up with a steady hand at your back and under your knees. “Please tell me you two are hungry, once we’ve finished drying up, I’m ordering some room service”.

You groaned in a different sort of need from only a few minutes ago, your arms wrapping around his neck, “yes please, I’m starving after all of this activity!”

[slut4hee]

Never Have I Ever, Fell In Love With A Psycho | S.JY Teaser

{Paring: Ghostface Jake x Blk Cheerleader Fem! Reader

Release date: Tba

{Synopsis: You are the Star Cheerleader of Woodsboro University, Highly favored by your professors and well loved by your peers. You’re known for being a kind hearted soul, who volunteers to help host the charity events at your school and playing your role as the notorious team captain of the cheer squad. So what could you have possibly done to become Ghostface’s target?

{Genre: smut, serial killer themes, angst, Jake is batshit crazy, college au, 18+ so (mdni).

{Warnings: explicit scenes, rough sex, oral (m&r receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, cum eating, knife play, dirty talk, fingering, pet names, mentions of murder, possessive behavior, obsession (Jake), stalking, character death (not reader or Jake), Jealousy, one sided love at first (Jake), profanities, kidnapping.

🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮🝮

Your heart pounds out of your chest rapidly as tears and your now ruined eyeliner runs down your face. You sprint through the hallways of the school running for dear life, hoping and praying that whatever fucked up nightmare this was you will wake up from it soon. You can hear their eerie dark voice and evil menacing laugh behind you causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand up.

Your vision is blurred from the tears that won’t stop falling from your eyelids, fear consumes you whole as you hear the footsteps getting closer and closer to you. Your breathing is ragged, your heart feels like it’s gonna explode any minute from the adrenaline that’s rushing through your veins.

They’re hot on your tail, you can hear them everywhere around you, from behind you, and in your head completely taking over your brain cells. Finally barging into a empty classroom you lock the door shut.

You spot a storage closet making your way into it, you place your hand over your mouth trying to ground yourself from making any noise while trying to control your breathing. You hear what sounds like the sound of metal dragging against the wall piercing through your eardrums.

The waterworks continues as you try to calm yourself down, fighting the urge to scream out loud because you’re so damn terrified. Your heart sinks to your stomach when you hear the door to the classroom slam open.

You hear footsteps walking slowly across the perfectly polished vinyl floors. A knife can be heard being slowly dragged against the desk causing a horrible sound to echo throughout the classroom causing your breath to hitch.

Your eyes go wide when you realize you given yourself away and you pray to god you wake up from this shitty nightmare as soon as possible. The footsteps grow closer to the storage closet as you peak out the little opening of the closet door.

A figure can be seen wearing a black hooded robe, a white skull like mask, and black gloves. You’re full on going into a state of panic when you recognize the masked person from the news and pictures and posters that’s been posted all around campus.

You heard the masked killer goes by Ghostface and he’s known for being a very heartless brutal serial killer. he’s killed 20 people so far and your heart sinks knowing you will mark the 21st person he murders if he was to kill you.

Just as you are processing the information in your head the door to the closet door swings open and you’re met with none other then Ghostface himself. Your heart feels like it’s not beating anymore as time seems to stop.

You don’t move a muscle, completely frozen and paralyzed from the fear and anxiety that’s coursing through your veins. The masked person slightly tilts their head to the side almost like they’re studying your every move.

Finally building up enough strength to speak you decide to do what anyone would do in this situation, beg for their life to spared.

“P-Please don’t kill me, I haven’t done anything wrong to you please I don’t want to die I’ll do anything you want just please don’t murder me” you plead from the bottom of your heart, hoping Ghostface will let you go. The masked figure doesn’t say a word but just stares at you. His breathing coming in steady and calm causing a gut wrenching chill to run down your spine.

suddenly the masked figure starts to chuckle lowly almost mockingly as they bring the cold metal knife to your chin gently lifting your face being careful to not cut through your pretty brown skin and finally they speak.

“Oh Y/n baby, how could you think so little of me? You think I would hurt the most precious thing I hold dearly to me? Do you think I would harm you my darling love, I’m so disappointed in you my love I thought you would’ve known better” the masked figure leans closer to your face, you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he whispers in your ear.

“You mean the world to me my sweet baby, I could never harm you I will kill myself before I lay a finger on you my dear” they hum reassuringly, tucking one of your braids behind your ear.

“W-Who are you! I-I don’t even know who you are how could you possibly be in love with me” you managed to blurt out despite of being scared for your life. Your eyes widened when the masked figure slowly removes their mask, revealing none other than Jake Sim, the top student in your physics class, the guy who never really speaks to anyone, the guy who sits in the back distant from everyone, the guy who nobody would have thought would be committing these horrible murders.

“What’s wrong baby girl? Surprised to see me” Jake smirks at you with an evil unhinged smile, the fear consumes you still, but the flutter in your stomach and the way your heart skips a beat has you questioning your sanity and now you find yourself asking yourself are you just as insane as him?

To be continued…

A/n: eeeee I’m so excited to write this story, I’m so down bad for Ghostface Jake so I know I’m gonna be creaming nonstop while writhing this 😭 but guys I hope you enjoy the teaser because i literally suck at writing them. Please feel free to reblog, share, comment, and like muah 💋.



[heartless-tate]

Just Friends? | Dark Azriel X Freader

Summary: You and Azriel are just friends. Who fuck. Or at least that’s how you see it. So what happens when you find out Azriel sees it completely different?. 🧁 | 2.6k words

A/N: I was feeling spicy today for some dark azzie boo bear. FYI, if you’d like this rewritten with a male reader, please ask!

WARNINGS: NSFW content, p in v?, oral F receiving, choking, murder(not reader), torture(not reader), shadow play, slight angst in beginning, fingering, slight degradation, slight manipulation, reader with she/her pronouns. with a pussy. THIS IS YANDERE CONTENT. ITS DARK AND POSSESSIVE.

The apartment is eerily silent. It’s dark, and shadows seem to liter every surface tonight. The stench of mold and something rotten doesn’t overwhelm your senses much anymore. Living here on this side of Velaris, you think you’re use to it. You didn’t bother turning the lights on. They always left a weird dim and yellow setting. The moonlight rays from the windows were enough light for now.

You stood in the cramped kitchen, in front of the oven. You stared at the cupcakes baking inside. Then at the clock; 3:04 am. You hadn’t been able to sleep and why not bake cupcakes? The inner circle would certainly enjoy them tomorrow. Not to mention it’d give you an excuse to question Rhysand of Azriel’s whereabouts. He always stops by your place at least once every three days. Or around that. It had been a week. You were lonely. And sexually frustrated. It was hard to get off without his long scarred fingers pressing into your skin, holding you close like he might lose you, and his cock pumping into you teasingly slow. Nothing compared to the feeling of it. Of him.

Going from fucking everyday, on almost any surface, to nothing within a week was driving you crazy. You needed it. You needed him. And not just sexually. But he couldn’t find that out. You wonder if you shouldn’t have had sex with him that night. Started whatever this mess was. Friends? Or what was it books called it?

Friends with benefits. You two spent the day time as friends, hanging out, talking, and at night you fucked like rabbits during the mating season. Or any time of the day really. You have had a crush on Azriel ever since you met him. How could you not? He was kind. Different. Quiet. And you both hit it off so easily when Rhysand introduced you to the inner circle. it seemed like he was always there. And if he wasn’t, his shadows were. Sure, you don’t have him as yours. But he was your friend. Your best friend. And that was enough. Or at least you tried to convince yourself that.

And so when he came back from a mission, sweaty and heated up from anger- you couldn’t help but relax and let him take control. You had had a stressful day too. Why not? Why not let your hot bestfriend fuck you senseless? That’s where the downfall was. You were just pity fuck or a way to blow off some steam for him. You see the way he’s always talking to Elain. You satisfied him for now. So you would happily reduce yourself to what felt like a sex toy, waiting for him in your shitty apartment in hopes maybe one day he would return your feelings. And more then ever you hated that you missed him, and not just the sex. You didn’t even have a clue to what day it was.

You approached the calendar on the wall and peered at it. He said he’d be back today. Or yesterday- since it’s 3:06 am now. He lied. Maybe he had found another woman. Jealousy swirled inside of you, ever growing like an invasive species. You slumped back down beside the oven. This was depressing. You felt like some lonely sad and depressed wife waiting for her husband to come home. Except he wasn’t your husband. And this wasn’t his home. And one day he’ll find another woman and you’ll be nothing but a faint memory in his mind.

A shadow scurried to you, dancing excitedly, others surrounded and curiously observed you. You watched as they scattered around your body as if searching for any harm. You paused- his shadows were back. Which meant he was back. And near. The shadow dancing in your face swirled and gently brushed against your cheek as if consoling you. As if it knew you were sad. You heard the door open to your apartment. You stood running to the living room watching as Azriel entered your apartment. He looked so out of place here. He slightly reeked of blood. As if he hadn’t washed it off yet and had just used magic to hide it for now. His hair was tussled and his eyes were oddly alert at this hour. He smirked at seeing you standing so excitedly. More shadows rushed to join the ones dancing around you, as if celebrating you.

You were so happy to see him again! But he was late. And probably was with another woman. You frowned and stepped back slightly.

“Where were you?”You questioned, crossing your arms. The shadows slowed to a lazy swirl. His wings tucked in slightly. He approached.

“Does it matter love? I’m here now.” He whispered cunningly, pulling you in by your hips. His fingers quickly moved underneath the baggy T-shirt of his you were wearing to grip at the flesh of your hips. He smiled at you broadly as if just noticing you were only wearing his shirt and panties. Your eyebrows furrowed. He could scent your arousal.

“I thought we didn’t keep secrets from each other.” You snuffed out. His wings tucked in further, his eyes flashing with darkness for a slight second.

“Do not question me.” He whispered softly. Azriel pulled you in closely nuzzling his cheek against your hair. He flinched when you jerked away angrily. He watched as you started back to the kitchen.

“Fine. It’s whatever. After all we’re just-“

“Don’t you fucking dare say friends, Y/n.” He snarled loudly. A sharp contrast from his before behavior. Before you could respond he was pulling you back, your back hitting his chest. It was like he snapped. His arms wrapped tightly around your center, holding you still as his wings surrounded you both.

“The only reason I’ve been putting up with your fucking friends with benefits bullshit is to give you time to adjust.” Azriel said, hands roaming. It became difficult to focus.

“What? What is that suppose to mean Azriel?”

His hand found it’s way to your clothed cunt, feeling the wet spot on your panties. He snickered. Of course you were turned on. His hard chest pressed into you and you could feel his erection firmly prodding against your back. The size difference between you two was almost unbelievable. You had been turned on since you got lost in thought of him earlier. Since that wet dream you had. You mewled softly as two tendrils of his shadows slither their way under your shirt and rub against your perked nipples. Azriel smirked and kissed your neck slowly. He moved your panties to the side and dipped his finger into your gushing cunt, enjoying the sounds it made. And the ones you made.

You couldn’t help the moans that escaped in response. It felt like you were on fire. Azriel was always capable of reducing you to a moaning incoherent mess within seconds. His long scarred fingers started pumping in and out of you, pressing into the one spot that made you cry out. His other hand grasped your throat and forced your head up to face him. His amber eyes were dark and piercing, a feral look on his face. It was terrifying, and yet you felt your body react differently then your mind did.

“What it means is, this pussy is fucking mine. This body. This mind. You’re fucking mine. You’ve been mine since the day we met. My beautiful foolish mate. I waited for the bond to snap for you, but it hasn’t yet. So when we started fucking, I assumed it would snap for you soon. And I could give you time to grow use to me, to having a lover and someone who cares for you. I know nobody has cared for you in a long while, sweet little thing. I knew you would need time to adjust. But it seems maybe you got the wrong idea. We’re not just friends. We’re mates. You belong to me. I belong to you. There will never be anyone else for us. Just me and you.. for eternity.” He whispered possessively in your ear. His feral smile only seemed to grow, making your own fear- but also pleasure grow? His thumb rubbed at your clit at a breathtaking speed, eyes sharp as they watched you squirm. He refused to let go of you though. Holding you close. You couldn’t process his words clearly. Everything felt too good. Too right. Like you belonged there- in his arms.

“W-wait az-“ you whimpered out trying to jerk your hips from the overwhelming heat building in your core. Azriel didn’t relent, shoving a third finger in you, dragging it slowly against your walls. He started pumping them in, every-time he hit the spot he knew that would make you dumb. The spot he knew would make you cock drunk when he angled his dick to press into it every-time he pumped into you. The shadows twirled and pinched at your nipples, creating a mix of pain and pleasure. They knew you enjoyed it. Azriel knew you did with the way your soaking cunt spasmed. You were close. He could see it in the way your body went limp against him. His hand grasped at your throat more aggressively- cutting off some of your air. His eyes were narrowed as he forced you to look at him. He knew you were close by the foggy and dumb look you gave him.

“Cum on my fingers princess. Make a mess.” Azriel purred sweetly, pressing his hard on into your back for some friction. He smirked knowingly when you cried out silently, hands clawing at his arm that was wrapped around neck. He felt the way your walls tightened, clenching around his fingers and he felt wetness leak around them. He released your throat, letting air back in. You gasped for air desperately. Your cunt was gushing around his fingers, a mixture of wetness and cum dripping drown his scarred hands. You clenched around nothing at the sight as he pulled them away.

“Atta girl. Look at you, making a mess of me hands. Clean it up hun.” He cooed, raising his fingers to your mouth. You obediently opened your mouth, allowing his fingers to be shoved into your mouth. You sucked them, tasting yourself. He groaned at the sight, pressing his erection against you again. Shadows suddenly swarmed around you both, and all of a sudden you were inside of Azriel’s house. Well- one of them. He had a penthouse, and a secluded cabin-house? It was deep in the forest and and secluded with the sense of a cabin but much more bigger and fancier. It had a modern look to it. He kept it secret, as it was a hide away for himself, but he always brought you to it.

He pushed you against his bed, mounting you like a feral animal. Both of your clothes disappeared- except for the shirt of his you had on. It stayed. His shadows swirled around you two. His erection prodded your ass.

Azriel seemed much more animalistic now, as he rutted his erection agaisnt you. His arm wrapped around your waist as he lifted you to him. He pulled you into a long, wet, and sloppy kiss. He nipped your lips until swollen and slightly bloody. And you returned it, happily, forgetting everything else. For now. He pulled away when you tapped his arm, needing air. He stared as you regained your breath.

“You wanna know where I was?” He asked, using his knee to knock your legs wider. His hand reached in between yours, feeling your wetness. He ears twitched at the sound of your soft gasp.

“Y-yes” You stuttered out, rutting into his hand.

“I was hunting down that pathetic excuse of your landlord. After you told me about how he threatened to touch you to make up for your lack of money and the missed payments, I went and found the fucker. I had to go on a mission Rhys sent me on, but I told him to count his days. When I got back, I found him and fucking destroyed that piece of shit.” Azriel growled proudly, taking in the scent of your fear and confusion. “He screamed like a little baby, louder then any other girl I’ve tortured before. I made it hurt. Nobody gets to fucking talk or touch my girl like that. Nobody.” He huffed out, chest puffed up with pride.

Azriel grunted when you shoved him away and scrambled to the headboard. His head titled with confusion. He scented your fear and his ears picked up the sound of your heart beat.

Azriel killed someone. You realized. He killed your landlord. It was hard to wrap your head around it. You knew he wasn’t innocent but the Azriel you knew was soft and kind. Not- not this. He killed someone. For you. Someone died. Because of you. Dread filled your bones. He crawled forward. Straddling your hips before you could move. His naked body in all it’s glory.

“Oh sweet thing, don’t be scared. I would never, ever, harm you. Don’t be afraid of me. I was just protecting you. And your landlord wasn’t just threatening you. He was doing it to other females. It’s okay, princess. He was just getting his deserved consequences. Can you imagine how many woman I could’ve possibly saved from his harm tonight? Don’t be scared of me. You’re safe.” Azriel purred out, wings flared. His cock rested on your stomach. You couldn’t help but relax as his scarred hands slowly spread your thighs. He’s right. Azriel’s always right. Someone could’ve been hurt if it wasn’t for him. He was doing you, and other women a favor. There was no reason you shouldn’t just relax and enjoy this. Him.

He smirked, hooking your legs upon his shoulder. Azriel, rubbed gentle circles in your thigh. He admired your pretty cunt. And then you. In his shirt. Smothered in his scent- inside and outside. In his bed. In his house. Where no one could disturb you. Pussy on display for him. And just him. He moved his hips down before nose diving into your pussy, scenting you. You smelled and tasted divine and your cute yelps and squirms of shock only spurred him on as he lapped at your gushing cunt for more. You tasted divine. Better then he could imagine. His hands held tight, nails leaving crescent moon shapes in the soft flesh of your thighs. Azriel couldn’t help but groan and whimper loudly at your taste. Tongue lapping and lapping like a starved man.

“Azzie!” You squeaked out, hands clutching at his hair, hips rutting into his face. His eyes were stuck on you, staring you down like a lion who had finally caught its favorite mouse. He groaned before pulling away, your wetness dripping down his face. He held eye contact as he licked around his mouth, enjoying your flavor. He grabbed the base of his cock and slapped it against your swollen clit, watching as you squirmed and yelped, sensitive. You were so adorable. His shadows slithered around your body before multiple restrained your limbs down. Leaving you helpless and vulnerable to him.

You relaxed. Azriel would never hurt you. He’s always been there for you. And this is what you wanted- him. And even better- he was your mate. Yours. And you were his. Who cares if he brutally killed your landlord? He was just doing his job as your mate. Protecting you. And plus, you have an excuse to move in with him. You had a feeling you wouldn’t be living this bed for a long, long, time. And as he slowly lined his fat cock with your soaking cunt, you couldn’t help but remember one thing. Your fucking cupcakes.

[mamayan]

🎃 Happy Halloween 🎃

Shigaraki Tomura x Fem! Reader

Good girls should just stay home, lest something goes bump in the night.

cw: NSFW • Implied Murder • Implied Serial Killer • Consensual Non-Consent turned Non-Consensual • Noncon • Dubcon • Abuse • Fingering (F) • Oral (M) • Deep Throating • Rough Sex • Attempted Murder • Hair Pulling • Degradation/Slight Humiliation • Dacryphilia • Yandere Themes • Kidnapping • a little OOC • This story possessed me and basically wrote itself • Barely proof read tbh

wc: 7k+

Something must be wrong with you.

Or at least, that’s what you imagine the world would think if anyone knew what you were doing.

The room was dark aside from the blue glow of your computer screen. The black web browser with red lettering almost ominous as your eyes scanned the consent form again. It was a consent form just to access the full website, on the surface serving only as a dating type of situation for the BDSM community. Beneath it though were layers deeper than what the simple description actually provided. You only found out about it through a deep dive into multiple sub-threads of Reddit. It was a basket case of crazy, the majority of information or advice, but you managed to dig up one reliable looking source.

This website you were currently on. L@ce&R0pe.com happened to provide a wide variety of goodies, from sex toys to actual published books on shibari, there wasn’t much you couldn’t find. Except like all websites not swallowed up by the deep web, there was never any section like the one you wanted so desperately.

Except this one, because your mouse didn’t hesitate to shift and hover over the drop down section for MEET, where you could link up with real people for whatever your heart desired really. You trailed down to NEW FRIEND, and clicked. A new tab opened, this one themed differently than the main website. It was light blue and pink, almost like a baby shower, except the only thing on the page was a single drop down menu, and clicking it made your head ache. There were thousands of options, but thankfully it was organized alphabetically, so you could easily scroll mindlessly until you hit the C section.

You found what you wanted, clicking it as your chosen option and hitting GO.

The screen changed, this time it looked similar to a dating profile fillable. You worked quickly, efficiently even, as you typed all your information in.

Not your name or address, nothing silly like that. Just your measurements, your favorite foods or beverages, the color of your eyes, your hair color, your height, and even the style of your nails. It asked if you liked to brush your hair everyday, how often you showered, what shampoo or body wash you like. You answered them all, as invasive as they soon became, you never wavered. What brand of deodorant do you use? How often do you clip or file your nails? To what length? Do you shave your pubic area? How often? What style? How many sexual partners have you had? Where have you had sex? Which hole do you prefer? Are you a crier or a screamer? Does blood turn you on? Do you like physical or mental pain more? Have you ever been raped before?

They got more personal and physiological as you answered. You felt hot and stuffy despite the window being open and the cool autumn air blowing in. You kept answering even as your throat got tighter and unease nestled into your clavicle.

Do you want to know who your new friend will be?

This time you do hesitate. Knowing would make it feel safer. Knowing would give you some semblance of control. Knowing would be the smart choice.

You clicked “no” and submitted the form, sealing your fate as your hands shook and adrenaline pumped through your veins.

You set the date for October 31st. Now all you had to do was wait and show up.

A notification hit his phone, lighting up the screen as cigarette smoke billowed around him in the back alley. A quick glance was all he needed to unlock and fully see the entire screen. The leather of his jacket rubbed against the brick he leaned against.

Halloween was probably the best time for such fun, crime rates skyrocketing and parties being loud and wild really left a big gaping hole for any type of heinous activity to occur. He grinned as the information poured onto his screen. His dick already becoming painfully hard as he read all your supplied information. You liked breath play, having someone spit in your mouth, even being slapped around. He was always amazed by the lack of shortage for sick freaks like you, but then again, he was one of them too. Licking his top lip, tongue piercing flicking out to rub against his cupid’s bow, he clicked “ACCEPT” on the notification. He had all your information, the when and where, and your adorable little comment of “Please don’t degrade me.” What more could he ask for? His smile is sinister in the low light off the neon sign of the bar, casting a purplish hue on his skin as he chuckles and shoves his phone away. Flicking his cigarette butt onto the dirty ground, he cracked his neck and knuckles before going back inside to finish his beer and round of pool with his friends.

He’ll see you on Halloween. He might even dress up a little for the occasion.

It’s cold.

It’s nearly November so you hadn’t expected warm weather necessarily, but it seemed chillier than usual despite your fairly insulated dress.

You dressed up as an angel, the irony not lost on you at all but it felt fitting almost for the occasion. The pristine white looked off in your surroundings. It was nearly midnight, but despite that the sidewalk of the park was filled with a fairly regular crowd of people passing through, on to the next party or home to sleep off all the alcohol. Really, you weren’t too out of place, in your white stockings and black heeled boots, the fluffy ruffled white babydoll dress that barely covered your ass or tits and the wings which were strapped around your shoulders and jutted out behind you. On your head was a slim clip which was attached to a white shiny halo that seemed to float above you, only a thin wire keeping it up. You’d at first felt a little exposed passing children going home for the night after trick or treating, eyes of judgemental families which you ignored boring into you, but now it was time for the adults to have fun. You’d already passed a plethora of college students or older dressed even more scantily than you, making you feel better, safer, out in the park you’d chosen. You’d chosen 0300 as your designated meetup time, but specified you’d be early in case they wanted to start sooner. So here you stood, under a streetlamp that illuminated you in a yellow glow, making you seem even more angelic despite the ominous darkness surrounding you. You were busy playing on your phone, scrolling mindlessly and trying not to appear too excited. Or scared. You figured it was a combination of both, the arousal and fear bleeding into one very specific but unnamed emotion. Tapping your boot to a rhythm only you could hear, the night drew on and another hour passed. The droves of people passing didn’t dwindle, but it was always a group, never a single individual which you hoped was your new friend. It was almost 0130 when you felt watched, goosebumps rising on your skin as you realized someone must be looking at you. A quick glance around showed no one though, and after ten minutes your hope dissolved into disappointment. It seemed your friend wasn’t an early bird.

“Hey,” a raspy, deep voice speaking almost directly into your ear, startling you enough to elicit a yelp. You turned, eyes landing on a dark clothed chest and trailing up to a hooded face you could barely make out through a mess of blue hair. His lips look a bit chapped, a small scar decorating a corner, but his teeth are white and straight as he smiles a grin that causes shivers to shoot down your spine.

…maybe your friend was an early bird, just not as much as you.

You take a step back, stuttering stupidly due to your overactive nerves and the earlier shock of his sudden appearance. “H-hi…um,” the stranger tilts his head, eyes still not visible, dark hoodie baggy on his frame. He looks a bit thin, like he wouldn’t have a lot of strength, his jeans having some strange splattering of fake blood or something on them. You lick your lips, heart ready to leap from your chest but not quite ready for the events to unfold.

Or maybe you were very ready.

“You’ve been standing here for hours,” he comments nonchalantly, hands moving to shove inside the large inner pocket on his hoodie, “Aren’t ya tired of waiting for your boyfriend?” His question is a bit confusing, and when you glance around you, it dawns that there’s no one out right now. When had the crowds dwindled to nothing? “I don’t… have a boyfriend…” you had clearly stated that online too, so he already knew the answer to your relationship status. Was he just teasing? Keeping this as realistic as possible? It made you a bit pleased. You fiddled with the ends of your cute frilly dress, exposing a small portion of your skin and garter belt which kept your thigh high socks up. His eyes tracked the motion, lips pulling up even higher making his smile menacing. Dangerous. “That so?” He asks, but it doesn’t seem like he’s too interested in a reply as he steps closer, his beat up sneakers so silent on the ground it’s a little unnerving. Since he’s playing along so much, it feels wrong for you to not reciprocate.

“What do you think you’re doing, creep? Stay back,” You hope he’s not offended by the name, figuring it wasn’t too mean or odd of a thing to call him. Your firm stance and defiant gaze make him pause, head tilting again but he’s quick to recover and laugh. It’s less of a sexy and deep chuckle like you expected, and more pitched and giggly. It’s almost creepy to hear from a grown man. Like a child from a horror movie laughing. “Creep? Yeah? Guess I am, but you know what?” His head lifts, and since he’s more centered under the tall street lamp, when he looks straight at you, two red eyes flash. “I’m a lot fucking worse than your average dumbass creep,” you jolt when he lunges at you, hand outstretched to grab you. It’s instinctive how quickly you turn and run, adrenaline helping you shoot off into the park where no light but the moon shined down. This is what you wanted, you chant to yourself to stay level headed enough to not truly panic. This was staged and as safe as possible. He’s not actually going to hurt you. You’d be fine, albeit maybe a little sore tomorrow morning. You shut your mind off and focus on running, though your speed wasn’t great in such cheap and unstable boots, roots and random objects on the ground constantly tripping you up.

You looked like the dumb girl in the horror movies, tits practically out of your low cut revealing white dress, strapless white bra damn useless and more for show than any real support or push-up. You huffed, digging in your heels when you heard a few twigs snap behind you, feet carrying you faster as you realized he was gaining on you quickly. He didn’t shout and you didn’t scream. The chase was exhilarating, your mind becoming fuzzy as your lungs burned for more oxygen. You hadn’t planned a chase, really leaving it all up to fate and your new friend, but this was perfect.

Until fingers tangled tight in your hair and yanked you completely off your feet, your shoes and legs going out in front of you as you landed gracelessly on your ass. Then an intense burning in your scalp erupts, a hiss of pain and a whine escaping as you slide over cool damp foliage, senseless grumbling coming from the stranger as he drags you into a deeper more secluded section of the park, away from any and all prying eyes. Not like anyone gave a damn. “I-it hurts!” You feel childish for crying, tears pricking your eyes but the burn was worse than you imagined truly, soft hands coming up to try and pry his fingers off.

He has a grip of iron apparently, not the least bit phased as he sighs, hauling you up and tossing you in front of him. You land weirdly on your left shoulder, a shock of pain numbing your mind as you heave for air and roll over. When you open your eyes, you’re face to face with him. His hood pulled off, shoulder length blue hair now tied back and up into a little bun while some stray pieces frame his face and forehead. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as they take him in.

He’s young, maybe early twenties, with pale skin and dark bags hugging beneath his scarlet eyes. He’s got a beauty mark just below his lip on the right side, the scar you saw earlier on the other. He’s not hard on the eyes, cute even, but the strange air around him makes the close proximity fill you with anxiety. His eyebrows are thin and sparse, but he cocks one with a smirk. “Not gonna scream for help, crybaby?” The nickname makes you realize tears are streaming down your cheeks, you blink them away quickly, shaking your head and trying to find your words again. “I—uh, do you want me to?” Wouldn't screaming just make it more likely for someone to call the police? You figured a little noise was fine, but screaming seemed counter productive.

His eyes widened a bit, confusion painting his features as he crouched down more comfortably on his haunches to get a better look at you.

He’d been watching you since you got to the park. A single party in this sort of place always sticks out like a sore thumb. You looked more ready for a porno than a costume party, from behind the view of your ass indescribably arousing in your short little dress. It was both a slutty and innocent look you pulled off well, at least enough to make him riled up, cock twitching in agreement within his pants. He shamelessly rubbed it through his jeans, caressing the hardening length and letting you watch with glee. Your face made him snort, amusement evident as he chuckles and squints. “You like this, little freak?” You looked like you did, he notes. Your wide pretty eyes, still a little teary and red at the ends, showed your blown out pupils. You looked to be more star struck, not terrified like any normal girl chased through a park and dragged into a little corner between some trees to be out of sight. He watches you swallow hard, lips parting before closing as if you aren’t sure what to say to that question. “Fuck, you’re cute,” he grins, “a cute little slut who stood out at night all alone as if begging for someone to come along and do something nasty.” You release a tiny yelp as he meanly shoves you back, straddling your upper chest with his thighs as he hunches over you, looming ominously above with wild eyes screaming for chaos. “Good thing that I came along, huh? Make all your nasty little fantasies come true.” He watches you gasp as he presses his fingers against your lips, confusion evident on your face but you aren’t really putting up much of a fight as you open and let him slide two in. “Nasty fucking girl, look at you, when you don’t even fucking know me.” He chuckles, and while he’s teasing you mostly, he is amazed. You looked erotic as hell right now, little angel costume all wrinkled and a bit dirty from the earth below, pretty face a bit stained with mascara that had run a little from your earlier tears. You weren’t wearing the waterproof kind it seemed. Lips bitten and chewed on, plump and glossy from whatever glittery shit you swiped on them earlier now wrapped around his digits as he dug around in your warm wet mouth. “Suck on them, slut,” he orders, his smile dropping and face becoming more serious as you hurry to obey, a strange trepidation building in your gut. He groans as he feels your tongue wiggle and swirl, pumping his fingers a bit now and enjoying the little bleats you release when he chokes you a bit with them. “Wonder if you’re soaked down here~” he hums, leaning back a bit and yanking his fingers from your lips, wiping the excess saliva across your cheek and huffing a laugh as your features wrinkle in distaste. His hand moves behind him, easy access to your cunt due to the frilly dress hiked up almost around your waist, revealing cute soaked white cotton panties he growls at the sight of. “You really suck at putting up a fight, crybaby, but I think I heard somewhere that girls get wet when scared too…” those red eyes flick back to your own, "You scared?” He asks, almost softly. He watches you breathe, chest struggling a bit under his weight but your hands curled into the fabric of his hoodie, not pushing him away. “A little…?” Is your shaky response, and he wonders silently if you’re an idiot or just a pervert. You might be both, because when he lets his thumb dig into where your pussy lay poorly hidden, you moan for him and spread your legs wider. You make it even easier to search for his desired location, your swollen bundle of nerves. “O-oh—!” Your head falls back, little halo becoming a bit misshapen as it gets flattened to the ground, he tsks, fixing it with his free hand as he thumbs your little clit and watches you mewl and writhe beneath him, pleasure clearly visible on your face. Your hips buck and wiggle, body pinned beneath his and unable to get away or closer like you desperately want for more friction than he’s providing. “P-please,” you can’t help but beg, hoping your new friend is merciful enough to make you cum and not simply edge you all night.

It’s the pouty expression which makes him nearly feral, his grin spreading wide again as he keeps working his finger on your clit but his face closes the distance between your own. His lips just barely graze yours, and you are all too happy to part your lips and give him a sloppy kiss back, his own tongue finally slipping into your mouth where you suck. The smooth muscle in your mouth and the saliva dripping from it drive you wild, hands now dragging him closer and trying to make him do more for you. The heat spreads slowly however, his pace not changing, and despite his slim build he’s much stronger than you. You aren’t able to take any more than what is given, huffing in exasperation and groaning when he places more force before easing off. “S-stop teasing…” you whine against his lips, which were much softer than they look. He smirks, airy chuckle felt more than heard as he shakes with a silent laugh, “how can I not, you’re such a rare find, I plan to take my time with you.” He kisses you hard to silence whatever whines you planned to release to make him give you more. Instead he forces you into a slow building orgasm that leaves him having to pin your wrists above your head lest your clawing rip his skin open. He works you gently and cruelly into it, loving how you gasp and choke for him, eyes rolling back while you shake almost like you’re possessed and soak through your panties. “There you go, heh, normally I wouldn’t bother to take my time with whiny bitches, but you’re more obedient and sweet than I first assumed.” He whispers into your ear as you come down from the mind blowing high, body limp and pliant like dough now. The insult from him brings out a little whine of protest, teary eyes looking at him with almost something akin to betrayal.

“I-I don’t like being called mean names…I said so online too,” he pulls up finally, the chill of the night attacking full force on your now exposed cunt as he brings your panties up to his nose to inhale. His eyes narrow, almost into slits as he pulls them back and shoves them into his hoodie pocket. “Oh yeah? You post that shit on your social media or something? Sorry, I don’t really use those trash platforms. I have a Twitch stream though,” he acts like this is the time for a regular conversation, even as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, yanking them down his hips to pull his cock free. Your eyes go wide, mind a bit blank and missing something, in favor of looking at him pump his length lazily. A trail of blue curls like on his head travel from his navel to his groin where it spreads out a little, the color a bit darker as it goes lower. He’s not one to shave it seems, but your eyes focus on his cock, average in length but girthy with a tip that curves up almost perfectly. It looks like a cock someone would sell as a dildo at a sex store. It was pretty, admittedly, as a few pearls of pre-cum dotted the tip and spilled over as he slowly worked it above you. “Hungry?” He jokes, but when you nod he grits his teeth and bites back a moan, the night truly more unexpected than he thought. “Open up then, crybaby.” He thankfully didn’t call you a bitch again, crybaby the less of the evils and more acceptable of a petname for your preference as you open your lips and awkwardly lean your head forward. “No need to lean up,” he mumbles, shifting until his knees now rested by your shoulders, tip just in your mouth and his forearms on the earth above your head. He’s looking down at you, and you lay back down as he works his cock in your mouth. He’s going to fuck your mouth, you realize a bit late, the position so easy for him to hit balls deep in your throat and prevent you from running just from his weight alone. You’re pinned to earth, the scent of crisp autumn becoming mingled with the musky masculine odor the stranger had clinging to him. Something smelled of iron too, but it was fainter and didn’t bother you too much, not when he seemed determined to suffocate you with his cock. You jerk a little, teeth accidentally grazing his cock and his hiss of pain alerts you that you’ve hurt him. He pulls up and out of your mouth, glaring ferociously as he looks down at you with contemplation. “Sorry—! I’m not used—,” the words leaving you mouth go unfinished as you’re suddenly looking away and down, confusion wracking your mind before white hot pain erupts across your face and you cry out in agony.

He watches with a cool nonchalance as you whimper and cry, holding your inflamed cheek and looking at him with teary eyes filled with questions. The sight doesn’t help his hardness, your face swelling a bit from the force of the blow already, but it was still arousing how you cried for him so easily. “Don’t bite my fucking dick and I won’t hit you, clear?” He’s grabbing you roughly by the hair again, yanking you up and no longer in the mood for that awkward position as he stands and pulls you to your knees. This position at least gives him a good eye full of your tits, shaking from your little trembling as you’re made to look up at him. His angry reddened cock next to your injured cheek is a sight for him, his hand gripping his shaft and slapping you lightly on the cheek with it, his hand in your hair preventing you from turning away even as you whimper in pain. “Okay, we’ll try this again, crybaby. Open.” You do, even as tears run like waterfalls down your face, mascara smeared and making a pathetic sight for sore eyes of you, you let his cock enter your mouth once more.

Because you’ve never been more aroused.

Your stranger isn’t nice, pushing hard and deep into your throat immediately and gagging you. You’re careful with your teeth, jaw already burning and aching as he locks his arm and hand, strands of hair tearing out as he works his hips into your face at an uneven pace. “Stop fucking moving,” he growls, stepping even closer, blocking any and all exits and forcing you to take it. His cock didn’t seem so scary when he’d pulled it out, but in your throat it was a plug to your oxygen and felt too big for your poor mouth. It hurt, feeling him go too deep and leaving you coughing and sputtering and even still he wouldn’t pull out, groaning and pressing impossibly deep like he truly means to suffocate you. “You got a good little mouth pussy, crybaby. Fuck—take my cock, just like that.” He moans, watching as you struggle on his dick to breathe or swallow, slobber and tears coating his cock as he makes a mess of your pretty face. He doesn’t care that your eyes are starting to roll back, hands which had previously been clawing at his legs going limp at your sides. You acted more like a hole for him to fuck when you were limp like this, and it drove him wild as he grunted like an animal and rutted into your mouth like he held a grudge against you. Both hands dug into your hair, hands pulling you back onto his cock when his hips bucked you away. “Never fucked a—holy shit—ah, mouth so damn good before—, ah fuck, fuck,” he’s getting breathier as time ticks by, his own eyes rolling back as his balls draw up tight. “I’m going to cum, ready for me crybaby? Want it in your tummy or on your face?” He’s being condescending on purpose, but it’s a bit useless considering he’s rendered you nearly unconscious on his dick. He shrugs your lack of response off, pumping his cock down your throat until he sees stars and yanks himself free just before the first spurt misses and hits the grass below, he grips the base, pumping and shooting his next shot right onto your face. He yanks your head against his thigh, delirious face dazed and coughing softly as he finishes on your glitter and mascara run cheeks, using the tip to smear it well into your ruined makeup as he sneers at you from above.

“Hah…” he catches his breath, sucking in oxygen along with you as his gaze turns calculated.

“Wake up, I’m not done with you yet.” He’s more gentle now that he's cum at least once, tapping your uninjured cheek with two fingers as your eyes roll around before opening and looking at him.

He swears, your face making him hard again instantly, blood pooling to his groin at the messy sight of you in your white ruined angel costume. “You really are unlucky I was out tonight, I don’t think I’m gonna let you go.” His dead serious comment caused something cold to hit your veins, chills running through you as you gape in shock.

“W-what…?” He reaches into his hoodie pocket, pulling out what looked like a foot long serrated hunting blade. He snickers at the blank look of shock on your features.

“What’s wrong, crybaby? No tears for me right now?” You’re shaking, getting paler by the second as you realize no, it’s not a costume, and yes, there is still dried blood on the blade. There’s dried blood all over him, his spree tonight ridiculously fruitful and his body still high on the thrill. Imagine his luck finding you. “T-this wasn’t in my profile, wh-what are you doing?” Now you look alert, now you act like a regular civilian, he notes cooly. “I only con-consented to the sex and stuff, I said I didn’t like—like blades or blood play.” Your eyes are wide as saucers and you have a cold sweat now forming and dotting your skin, shaky like on too much caffeine as your body dumped chemicals to help you run.

His head tilts, a few more strands of hair coming loose from his tie as those red eyes watch you without any emotion in their depths.

“Ah~ I get it now. Are you some kind of freak who links up with people online for this kind of shit?” He laughs, eyes not matching the manic toothy grin. “Sorry to disappoint slut, I ain’t your tinder or whatever match. Did you do it anonymously?” He’s beyond amused, thrilled by the horror dawning on your face as reality sets in. “You’re a fucking idiot.” He sneers, but he’s joyful when you book it, heeled boots caked in mud as they dig into the ground and you take off for real. True intent to get away now because he’s not your new friend, he’s a real stranger and his energy is nothing but malevolent.

You’re going to die.

It’s a sick thought that twists inside you as you push the hardest you’ve ever, scream bubbling up and out as you cry for help now. “HELP! Please! Someone! Anyone!” It’s more broken and hoarse than you want, his earlier abuse to your throat having taken a number on your ability to vocalize.

It’s empty. This damn park is empty.

Not a soul around and you can’t hear him coming for you anymore, and it only makes the tears fall harder as you drive your body to a breaking point. If no one is around you can at least aim for your car, your phone will take too much time to look at and dial the police, you’d be too open and that would mean—

Something—someone—smashes into you, your body thrown sideways by the brute force and flung roughly to the ground where you roll several feet.

It hurts—!

Your body and mind scream as pain lights up your shoulder, a previously dull ache now hounding for your attention so much it left you lightheaded. You twisted your ankle too or maybe broke it, already so regretful for the evening and your life choices that your shoes hardly broke the bank. It all hurt, and yet you still tried to crawl to get away, still eager for another deep breath of air in your lungs even if it hurt to do that too.

“Hck, please, please—help—!,” you’re a sobbing pathetic mess, and he couldn’t be more turned on by the sight. He dusts himself off like he hadn’t tackled you like a linebacker for a major league football team, his lanky form sinewy with muscle and his agility nothing to scoff at. He swirls the enormous daunting blade with a whistle, smiling more genuinely as he strolls towards your shaking form crawling away.

“Where do you think you’re going, crybaby? I said I wasn’t done with you,” he lands a solid hit to your middle, dirty sneaker smearing mud on your cute little dress, looking less and less white as the night wears on. The blow is not hard enough to damage anything, he’s sure, but you act as if you’ve been disemboweled by how you howl and heave. He rolls his eyes at the dramatics, settling one foot between your shoulder blades and pressing down until you’re left immobilized.

Your vision is blurry, going in and out of focus as you try, and try, and try to get away, cute nail polish chipped and ruined as you claw at the dirt floor for leverage.

He admires your tenacity. “You think you can get away? That anyone is coming to save you?” He brushes a few stray hairs out of his face as he laughs, the urge to gut you strong as he savors your useless little struggle. “Crybaby, look around! No one is coming! I said look,” he grinds out, dropping to one knee while his other leg remains planted on your back, his hand gripping your hair and yanking your head up to see what he meant.

There’s a fence. A metal chain link fence, and it had a sign your vision was too blurry to read through your tears.

“You ran yourself straight into the worst possible area, this is sort of your game over,” He leans down to look at you, yanking your head back and forcing you into an uncomfortable arch. He raises up the blade, fully intending to slit your pretty throat and watch your eyes as the light fades, but you blubber out a sentence which halts him.

“Y-you didn’t finish! E-earlier, hck, earlier you didn’t finish—!” Your eyes squeeze closed in pain as he yanks your head to the side. Confusion burned in him, and curiosity kept you breathing for now.

“Didn’t finish what, crybaby? Fairly certain I finished all over your face, if I remember correctly.” He has a sharp edge in his tone, something metallic fills your mouth and you realize you’ve bitten through your tongue in your panic. A few drops spill past your lips, catching his attention.

“S-shouldn’t you also f-fuck me too? I-it’s why I came out tonight, wh-why I, ah, d-did this,” it’s a long shot by any means, and he’s no fool, but you did make a good point.

He was still hard.

“Smart little crybaby, aren’t you?” He mutters darkly, setting aside his blade in favor of smashing your face into the dirt, keeping your head down as he presses against your back and yanks your hips up. Your knees are skinned from the rough handling, socks torn open and stained with blood and dirt while his calloused hands slip beneath your dress. Your breath hitches. You needed to think of some way out of this, some kind of plan to escape or incapacitate him.

He’s busied himself with your still dripping cunt. Two fingers roughly filling your hole and uncaringly stretching your tight entrance. “You really are a freak, wet even though you’re going to die, crybaby.” He felt a bit strange as you whimper and mewl below, hand slowing as he tried to place the feeling.

He shrugs it off, instead easily yanking down his jeans which were still unbuttoned and pulling out his cock once more, stroking his shaft a few times before he lined himself up with your puffy lips. “Fuck—,” he swears, eyes seeing stars as he pushes just his tip past the tight ring of muscle at your entrance, mouth opening as licks his lips and stares down at you. “Never had pussy so good…” he giggles darkly, cracking his neck as he pushes each inch inside of you, stretching you out deliciously until you’re speared on his cock with his hips flush with your ass. “Who knew you’d be the best, crybaby.” He muses, fingers digging into the fat of your hips, your little dress flipped up and over your ass so he can watch it bounce as he leans back on his knees to fuck you deeper. You need to think straight but it’s difficult with how good your body feels, the pain from earlier seeming to go away with a numb buzz as he fills your pussy, hitting perfectly against a spot that has you arching harder for more.

You really are a freak like he says.

You can’t help relaxing further, eyes dumbly looking to the side where your head rests as he pounds into you from behind, the coil in your gut growing tighter by the minute.

The clouds blocking the moon seem to part just for you, the full moon’s light no longer blocked and illuminating the little patch of grass he’d tackled you into. Something gleams, in perfect reach too as your eyes widen.

His knife.

He’d already proven you can’t outrun him, but what if he was injured? There’s a major artery in the thigh, if you hit that, wouldn’t you be able to get away?

He yanks back roughly, moaning as he feels you squeeze even tighter around him, velvet walls massaging his dick while he tries to fuck himself as deep as possible inside of you.

It hit you despite all your intentions not to, because this wasn’t safe and he wants to end your life and everything is wrong, but your body doesn’t listen. You cum with a shaky cry, and with an awkward turn of your head you watch as his head goes back and he moans, eyes closed in bliss as you coat his cock in even more slick.

You’re louder than you intended to be, but your fingers close around the hilt nonetheless, trembling with the heavy weight in your grasp, you use every ounce of energy inside you to swing it back into his thigh.

“Cute,” you scream as he catches your wrist, hand clenching so tight you feel your bones grind together as the knife falls from your grip. He twists your arm around and pins your wrist behind your back, holding it in place while his other hand remains at your hip.

“So fucking cute, crybaby. Did you cum just to distract me or was that because you couldn’t help yourself?” He’s getting a high from this, from fucking you and turning you into nothing but a toy as he bounces you on his cock, hips still but arms pulling you back and forth with ease. Scarlet eyes drink you in with undisguised sick glee, and he’s finally able to place the feeling from earlier.

“A pretty little slut trying to get her rocks off and getting shown why she should’ve been a good girl and stayed home,” he grunts, releasing you and leaning over, pinning you with his weight and nearly knocking the air from your lungs how deeply he hits you inside from this angle. Dirt fills the underbelly of your nails, your fingers digging into the earth just for some semblance of stability.

You had none. It was a sick and horrifying realization. You have no control. You can do nothing to stop this. As deeply as it made your gut sink, another odd emotion rose to the surface.

A bubbly sensation that tore through you as your tears became less from fear and more from overstimulation.

His hips piston in and out of you, bullying your cervix in this position as he ruts into you like a hound, tongue hanging out of his mouth as he moans and grunts.

You break again, spasm and cinch down on his cock like a vice while you wail as if in mourning. Maybe you are, for yourself at least. “Oh fuck—! s’too much—, please, I can’t—, f-feels good, hah,” your nearly incoherent babbling sends him over the edge along with you, his own dull nails finally drawing blood as he holds you for dear life as he releases deep inside you, tip kissing right up against you womb as he cums. You can feel it too, his cock twitching inside as the night seems to still for a moment.

He holds you for a while. Breathing you in, nuzzling his face into your neck and licking you. He holds you until his cock fully softens and it hurt to be gripped so tightly inside your wet heat, regrettably pulling away.

He stands, putting his sticky limp cock away inside his underwear and pulling up his pants, looking down at your ruined figure that had slumped over to the side.

“Y’know, crybaby… you really resemble an angel now,” he smiles, red eyes almost glowing as the moon blankets his back and shadows his face. His hair seems almost white like this, your tired eyes note. You don’t move or even flinch as he grabs his knife and yanks your limp figure up by your hair. Even now you’re still crying, face lax despite the rivers flowing down your dirty swollen cheeks. You make no effort to stop him, having given up completely.

He crouches down again, mostly eye level now as he makes you look at him.

“You got any last words?” He’s being dead serious. He feels strange looking at the almost glazed over look in your eyes.

“W-what…” your voice is barely a whisper, but the night is so quiet he catches it, “what’s your…name?”

An unexpected question.

His eyes gleam, smile ravenous as he puts his lips against your ear and whispers it.

“Tomura, what’s your name, crybaby?” He asks, gently, almost like he’s actually interested.

You hoarsely whisper it, your last time ever saying it after tonight. He hums, like it pleases him, before he brings down the knife swiftly.

Your vision goes dark, the strike mercifully painless. Your last thoughts blur as you drift into soft nothingness.

He releases your hair, grabbing your limp figure up in his arms as he chuckles and sheaths his knife properly on his hip. “Dumb crybaby” his voice almost singing the words as he whistles and walks away, the park dead silent but even if someone had seen you in his arms, he could just play the good boyfriend taking his sweetheart home safely. It’s not entirely a lie either, his eyes glancing down at your unconscious form, pretty neck unmarred but a bruise would likely form on the back where he struck you tomorrow. Tomura had never felt compelled to allow a victim to live, but then again he’s never fucked a victim either, so you’re the first for a lot. He supposed it made you quite special, his legs carrying him in the direction of his car in the parking lot about a mile south. Obsession and possessiveness swirled in those red depths as they looked at your figure.

“Good girls should just stay home…” he continues his sardonic little tune, his smile gruesome and foreboding.

Vibrant blue orbs check his surroundings again, noting once again his friend was a no show. Rolling his eyes, he knew it was too good to be true. Your profile screamed inexperienced and cautious, despite you clicking that you’d like him to remain anonymous beforehand. It didn’t matter, he’d just go enjoy some sorority girl pussy instead, figuring at 0330 that most parties would be winding down. Drunk girls dressed like sluts were his second favorite.

Dabi clicks the notify option on his app, letting the website staff know you never showed up.

Though, he muses if something did happen, the police wouldn’t be notified until it was too late. Halloween weekend after all meant you could be missing for quite a while before anyone noticed.

Not his problem though.

Post dividers/@cafekitsune

[rafesfavgirl]

little old me — r. cameron

soooooo my deepest, darkest, most impulsive thoughts may have won over with this one. hopefully you like it or at the very least, understand why i wrote it :)

❝ who’s afraid of little old me? you should be. ❞

pairing: bf!rafe x dark!reader

context: rafe comes to realize you’re more like him than he thought.

words: 3k+

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. murder, dark!rafe, psycho!rafe, psycho!reader, jealousy, possessive behavior, p in v sex, unprotected sex, sub!rafe (kind of, but not really), choking, praise kink, cutting, stabbing, blood, violence, blood play (idek if it counts tbh), dark fluff (is that even a thing?), SMUT with fucked up plot… rafe and reader being crazy, basically

you stood by the bar beside your best friend, engaged in conversation about some guy who'd pissed her off today by standing her up on a date, your eyes focused on the scene behind her head, where your boyfriend sat on the couch in the living room, a girl with short brown hair beside him, trying to cling onto his arm.

you feel your grip around your glass tighten, as the girl's hand gets closer and closer to wrapping around rafe's bicep.

"do you know who that girl is?" you cut your best friend off in the middle of her sentence and she snaps her head to what or who you're looking at.

"oh, that's sofia," she tells you, taking a sip of her drink. "she works as a bartender at the club. always flirting with top, kelce, and rafe. why? you jealous?"

heat rises in your chest at the mention of the girl constantly flirting with rafe, but you play it off. "please," a scoff leaves your mouth. "you know he knows better."

you take sip of your drink, and pull out your phone to text rafe.

you: if that sofia girl touches you one more time, i stg i'm dragging her ass across the floor

rafe: chill baby

rafe: you won't

you click your tongue and type away, your best friend watching your every move.

"you good?" she asks.

"mhm," you hum, sending the message.

you: you think i'm kidding?

you: try me, bitch.

you look up to find rafe snickering at your text, which only pisses you off more as he texts you back.

rafe: shut the fuck up, and get over here.

you: fuck no. tell her my drink's empty.

rafe watches as you down the rest of your drink and set the glass down on the bar, before waltzing away and heading outside, throwing him a glare as you do. he rolls his eyes at your antics, but gets up to follow you anyway.

“where the fuck are you going?” he calls after you, trailing closely behind as you cross the front lawn. “you came here with me.”

“i’ll call an uber,” you reply, continuing to walk towards the road. “go back inside and let sofia touch you some more.”

“oh my god,” he groans and catches up to you, grabbing onto your wrist to make you stop and look at him. “will you quit being a brat?”

you tilt your head up at him, fire in your eyes as they lock with his. “and what are you gonna do if i don’t?”

—

a moan slips out of your mouth as your back hits rafe's bedroom door, making it slam shut—thank god, his family had gone to the bahamas—as he kissed you like a man starved.

"still got more to say about sofia?" he says against you, lips trailing down to your neck, and hands trailing up your thighs to hook them around his waist. "jump."

you do as you're told, your legs locking around him and your fingers tangling into his hair, as your lips connected again and rafe's hands trailed up your back—one pressing you against him and one sliding up your hair.

he turns and lets you fall onto the bed with him above you, your legs still locked around him, as he began untying the knot in your shirt. he pushes it off of you, revealing your lacy white bra.

"fuckkk y/n," he groans, hand reaching up to grab at one of your tits.

"you like it baby?" you ask, as he trails wet kisses down your neck and collar bone. "it's new."

"i love it," he says, fingers unclasping it from the front, and lips moving to wrap around your now exposed nipple.

his other hand massages your other boob, finger flicking at your sensitive nub.

you pull him up to attach his lips back to yours. "i want you, rafe. now."

he chuckles against your lips, the vibration turning you on more, the spot between your legs getting wetter. you flip the both of you over so you're straddling him. 

"i like this side of you, doll," he looks up at you with a smirk as you rid yourself of your bra, and he reaches up to grab both your tits. "should make you jealous more often."

"shut up," you say, leaning back down to kiss him, hands entwining into his hair as your hips press down into his.

a groan falls from his mouth as his hands roam over your body, your hard nipples pressing against him.

"need you, pretty girl," he said, hips lifting into yours.

"more than sofia?" you ask, pulling your lips away from his.

"more than anyone," he replies, hands snaking around the front of your waist to unbutton your shorts.

you move to the side so he can tug them off your legs, along with your lacy white thong, while you reach to pull his shirt off his head and he takes off his shorts.

you swing your leg back over him once you're both naked, hovering and grinding your hips above him, slickness coating his dick just enough to tease him.

"doll, come on," he whines, attempting to press you down onto his length.

you place both your hands on his chest and lean down towards his ear. "this'll teach you not to make me jealous."

"y/n…" his voice is much serious now, and you smirk.

"what?" you look at him with innocent eyes, hand trailing down to grab his dick and align it with your center.

you slowly sink down onto him, your body relaxing as he groans.

"so so good," you mewl, hips rocking against his.

he watches you closely, hands moving to grip your hips. he lifts you up slightly and slams you back down, eliciting a moan from your mouth.

"move, pretty girl," he demands, eyes locked on yours as you sit up. "let me see you ride me."

you give in to his words and begin bouncing your ass on him, hands trailing down to his abs to steady yourself. up. down. up. down. up. down.

"just like that, doll," rafe says, hand trailing up your body to wrap around your neck. "you look so pretty riding my cock."

that only makes you pick up the pace, hands moving to rest on his thighs behind you, as your pussy clenches around his length, your orgasm quickly building up in your core. rafe's hands move to grab your tits as you continue, his eyes watching himself slip in and out of you.

"you gonna cum for me, baby?" he asked when you threw your head back in pleasure.

"cum with me, rafe," you moan, your high inching closer and closer.

his fingers pinch at your nipples and that sends you over the edge, your hips slowing down as your high washes over you. rafe follows soon after, thrusts getting sloppier as he comes down.

 you slowly move off to lay beside him, and he reaches out to open the drawer of his nightstand and pull out a small towel. he uses it to clean the spot between your legs before cleaning off himself.

you position yourself under his comforter as he tosses the towel on the ground and joins you.

"remember how good my pussy feels around you next time you let sofia touch you," you say, snuggling into him.

a small chuckles falls from his lips as he wraps an arm around you and places a soft kiss on your forehead. "good night, crazy girl."

—

your eyes shoot open at the sound of rafe’s phone incessantly buzzing on the nightstand, as the sunshine peeked through his bedroom curtains.

making sure not to wake him, you reach over to grab his phone, rage boiling through your veins when you read the notifications on the screen.

3 missed calls from sofia.

sofia: hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday lol. lmk if you need to blow off some steam ;) xx

“oh, this bitch needs to be put down,” you mutter to yourself, immediately unlocking rafe’s phone—he gave you his passcode months ago without you even asking—and typing away to reply to sofia's message.

rafe: hey sof :) yeah, she's a lot. how 'bout you meet me at tannyhill around 2 today?

you hit send, and the three bubbles appear almost immediately.

god, this bitch was desperate.

sofia: perf, i'll see you then!!

rafe: just knock when you get here, i'll be home alone

sofia: you got it, see u later xx

you roll your eyes and proceed to delete the conversation, before moving to rafe's phone app to remove her 3 missed calls from his log. 

three. who calls a guy with a girlfriend three times? crazy bitch.

just as you're about to place his phone back on the nightstand, rafe groans and shifts, arm slinging over your waist, as a call from ward vibrates his phone.

"baby," you nudge rafe, but he just groans again, arm around your waist tightening. "rafe," you shake him this time and his eyes flutter open.

"morning, pretty girl," he smiles, hand scratching your lower back. "you ok?"

"mhm," you nod, pretending you had just woken up. "woke up from your dad calling, though."

you hold the phone out to him, which was now vibrating for the second time with ward's name.

"sorry 'bout that, doll," he takes the phone from you and sits up, answering the call and pressing the phone up against his ear.

"i'm gonna go pee," you mouth to him, and he nods, as you get out from under the covers and slip on rafe's shirt before walking towards his bathroom.

you close the door behind you and take a quick piss before washing your hands and deciding to brush your teeth.

hopefully rafe wasn't gonna be around the house at 2 today, you thought. you knew he went out golfing with the boys and hit the gym afterwards every saturday afternoon, usually returning around 5 or 6, so it shouldn't be a problem. unless ward had him do something today that required him to stick around the house—now that would really put a damper on your plans.

the door opens and rafe joins you, only wearing a pair of boxers. "mmm," he walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder. "i'll never get sick of seeing you in my shirt."

his eyes meets yours through the mirror, and you lean down to spit and rinse your mouth.

"what's my baby doing today?" he asked, as you wiped your mouth dry.

"probably just hang around here," you shrug, hands trailing along his arms, as you leaned your head against his. "maybe lay out by the pool for a bit and make some lunch."

"for me too?"

you look down at him, and his eyes meet yours. "you're not going golfing with kelce and top?"

"oh, i am," he nods. "and i gotta take care of some stuff for dad too, so i'll probably be home a little later." perfect. "how 'bout we do dinner? you can dress up all cute and sexy, and i'll take you out on the town?"

"sounds perfect, baby," you smile, connecting your lips with his.

this was gonna be the best day ever.

—

after rafe left around eleven, you occupied yourself by taking a quick swim in the pool, before settling on a floatie and closing your eyes, as the sun beat down on your skin.

ring! ring! ring!

your alarm clock goes off at 1:50 pm, and you open your eyes to take your phone from the cup holder and silence it, happily slipping off the floatie when you realize it's almost time.

you grab your towel from one of the pool chairs and dry off before wrapping it around you, slipping on your crochet shorts, and waltzing inside with more of a pep in your step than usual.

you whistle as you walk through the house and stop in the living room to hang your towel off the back of the armchair and sit down, just in time for a knock to come at the door.

it's followed by another, before the front door creaks open and closes, as the sound of someone's footsteps get closer and closer.

"rafe?" the sound of sofia's voice fills your ears and you smile when she reaches the living room.

"hey, sof," you say, causing her to completely stop in her tracks, a few feet away.

"oh, y/n," she was clearly caught off guard. "i didn't know you'd be here."

"of course you didn't," you shrug, sitting up. "because you came here to see my rafe, isn't that right, sof?"

"uhh…"

"no need to lie, sweetheart," you drawl. "i've been expecting you." you pull out the pocket knife that you had stashed in the armchair earlier  to prepare and spin it around in your fingers.

the color instantly drains from sofia's face, as you flip the knife open, the blade catching the sun's light.

"here's the thing, sof," you stand up and slowly approach her, the growing crazy look in your eyes making her uneasy. "i'm a very possessive person, and i don't like sharing what's mine." you shake your head, eyes focused on hers.

"and rafe… tall and handsome as he is… is mine," you glide the edge of your knife across her collarbone as you round her, making sure not to cut her just yet. "and personally, i didn't take it very well when you called and texted him this morning."

"i- i don't know what you're talking about," her voice shakes, clearly afraid of what you might do if she admits to it. 

"hey, i saw y/n throw a fit and storm off last night. that must be a lot to deal with everyday. let me know if you want to blow off some steam," you recite the text message she sent rafe from memory, making her breath hitch.

"that— that wasn't an accident," sofia shakes her head. "i didn't mean-"

"oh, baby," you whisper against her ear, making her head turn towards you. "don't you know i hate liars?"

"please," sofia begs, eyes closing shut as tears stream down her face. "y/n… you don't have to do this."

"and you didn't have to text my man," you tut, trailing the knife down her back. "but you did, so i'll make it quick."

"no!" she shouts, pushing you away from her, and beelining for the door.

"you really shouldn't have done that," you chuckle, a smirk coming across your lips, as you follow to tackle her before she reaches the door.

you turn her around, so you're straddling her, both your knees pinning her arms down. "i tried to be nice…" you say, gripping a handful of her brown hair as you lean down to cut across her collar bone.

she screams in agony. "stop, stop, stop!"

"consider this a lesson, sof…" you trail off, knife moving down to dig into the side of her stomach. "rafe," stab. "is," stab. "mine." 

you pull the knife out from her side, blood splattering on your stomach, as you drag it up her body, towards her chest.

"and," stab. "you," stab. "don't," stab. "take," stab. "what's," stab. "mine."

the color drowns from her face as her eyes turn lifeless, and she stops squirming underneath you.

at this point, your chest, face, legs, and arms are covered with blood splatters, your hand holding the knife bloodier than any other part of you.

you stand up and hover over her, a smirk coming across your lips at the sight of her dead body.

"look, dad, i took care of it, a'ight?" the familiar sound of your boyfriend's voice booms through the house, as you hear the backyard door slide close.

shit. shit. shit.

he wasn't suppose to be home until later. what the fuck was he doing here?

panic begins to build up inside you, as rafe's footsteps approach you, and you round sofia's body to pick up one of her hands to begin dragging her towards the front door. maybe it was a good thing she tried to run.

"yeah, i got it," you hear rafe's voice again. "i think y/n's taking a nap right now, so i'll take the druthers out and-" he suddenly stops in the entryway connecting the living room to the kitchen, eyes on you. "i'll call you back later."

he ends the call with ward, phone coming down to his side.

"i told you i'd drag her across the floor?" you joke, shrugging a shoulder.

"holy shit, y/n!" rafe rushes over and crouches down to feel sofia's pulse.

nothing.

he looks up at you. "did you do this?!"

"no…" you give him your innocent eyes, and drop her hand, pocket knife hiding behind your back.

"what the fuck, babe?"

"hey, don't act like this is all on me!" you argue, pointing down at sofia's body and pacing around the room. "she was the one who was texting and calling you nonstop this morning! she should've known better! no one takes what's mine. especially not you!"

"you— you did this… because of me?" rafe slowly stands, eyes refocusing on your crazed out state.

"of course i did," your shoulders falling limp. "i— i love you, rafe!" you shake your head. "i— i can't lose you. not-"

before you could get another word out, he was pushing you up against the wall, lips hungrily kissing yours.

the knife clatters onto the ground, as your bloodied hands tangle into his hair, and he hooks a hand around your thigh to bring it up beside his waist.

"you— you're not mad?" you ask between kisses.

"are you kidding?" he mutters against you. "fuck no. just a little more work for me."

"wait, wait, wait—" you place a hand on his chest, and push him away just enough to look at him. "what does that mean?"

"there may or may not be a dead body in the cargo bed of my truck…"

"you killed someone?"

"it was necessary?" he shrugs, a cute little smile on his lips.

a laugh falls from your mouth before you can stop it.

"what?" rafe asks, chuckling at the sound of your adorable laugh.

you shake your head, hand trailing down his hair. "we're so fucked up."

"and that's just how i like it."

i hope y'all don't think i'm absolutely insane now lolz. i swearrrrr i just wanted to try something new.

reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

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[calmcoldevening]

Would you please write some first time sex HC with Art the Clown and a virgin female reader? How would he initiate or how would he be seeing as he’s her first?

Sure, sugar! Hope you'll like it 🍬

First time sex with Art the clown headcanons

Tw: adult content, smut, mention of blood, but mostly I tried to make it soft and comfy. No minors, sugar

• Most of the time, he has rather strange and somewhat childish ways of showing love. Although the fact that he didn't kill you already says a lot.

• Usually he just looks at you and smiles his trademark creepy smile, although in fact there are a lot of unspoken emotions hidden behind those crazy burning eyes. For you, his heart burns endlessly in a constant stream of childish joy and desire to protect.

• Art likes to come up to you while you're sitting, for example, on the couch in the living room and watching a movie, and put his head on your lap. His fingers dig firmly but gently into the flesh of your soft thighs, causing you to blush deeply and bite your lower lip. But there is nothing vulgar about it. Art just wants your gentle human warmth. Most of the time, his hands and bodies are cold, so he's crazy about the heat of your skin. Especially when you're embarrassed.

• He will be flattered by the fact that he is your first in many ways, indeed. He likes this feeling of possessiveness and an almost animal right to possess. Despite its somewhat childishness and intensity, Art doesn't put any pressure on you. He very often listens to your opinion and takes care of you in his own way.

• Art can be serious if he really wants to, and in the depths of his sadistic heart, he understands this perfectly well.

• It's not that this demon has any desire other than the feeling of itching on his skin from the desire to kill and shed blood. But over time, Art notices that he is increasingly watching couples in love. Very often, he kills teenagers or young people fucking at the wrong time in the wrong place. But he doesn't admire it in any way. He is interested in watching this. And in the place of this red-haired girl, Art involuntarily introduces you.

• Would you make the same sounds? They would probably be even more beautiful with you. What kind of face would you have at that moment? Would you moan his name or vice versa, try to hold back every gentle sound and meow?

• He was interested in getting to know this side of the human body.

• That's why, right after returning home after another murder, Art found you in the kitchen. A man came up close to you from behind and wrapped his arms around your waist with a firm grip. His lips, painted with black lipstick, instantly found your neck, kissing and gently biting the skin. You blushed instantly, feeling your heartbeat quicken.

• "Art.. What are you doing?" Of course you knew what he was doing. No wonder you often thought about this kind of dirty stuff when your boyfriend was at work. But it's one thing to dream, and another to do it. You weren't ready at all.

• Art continued to kiss your flesh, hinting at what he wants. He wanted you to show him this, to let him feel this strange feeling of two bodies together. For some reason, he was carried away by the idea that you know what to do. Or at least your body knows.

• What was his surprise when you not only did not respond to his caresses, but also quietly whimpered because of a sudden feeling of fear and insecurity.

• Art immediately stepped back and gently but insistently turned you around to face him, pressing your lower back against the kitchen set. You felt how unpleasantly the T-shirt stuck to your body from the blood that soaked it. Art will gently take your face in his hands, caressing your cheeks and wiping tears from your skin. His silent way of dumping what happened to you.

• "..scared." The only word that comes out of your mouth. After standing in silence for a while, Art finally connects all the dots and his face is decorated with a devilish grin. He leans closer, wanting to take you in another passionate embrace, but you gently push him away from you. "Please.. take the blood away."

• Art frowns and visibly sulks, but obeys, retiring to the bathroom. It gives you some time to catch your breath and mentally prepare. You're nervously biting your lip in anticipation.

• Although you desperately wanted to let your boyfriend see this side of you and show him your love, the unknown scared you. And you didn't want to disappoint him in any way. These thoughts gnawed at you in the most unpleasant way.

• When Art cleaned and dried his suit, he found you in the bedroom. His knowledge was also limited, but unlike you, because of his inhuman nature, he just wasn't afraid of something so simple. He literally killed people. And yet, the sight of you, so vulnerable and scared, made the 'heart' shrink uncomfortably, which he really didn't like.

• He came over to your bed and sat on the edge of it, looking up at you. His gloved hand took yours and pulled you into his lap. His fingers gently dug into your hips, tasting the pleasant sensation, and a satisfied grin appeared on his face. Perhaps he was trying to cheer you up somehow. You leaned forward and gently covered his lips with yours. Both of you have significantly improved your kissing skills since the last time, so his tongue alone was already making you dizzy. The kiss was slow and soft, Art's fingers gently stroking your thighs.

• After a couple of minutes, you leaned back, looking down at your boyfriend and catching your heated breath. You carefully took one of his hands with your own and put his palm on your chest, nervously biting your lip and nodding as if giving permission. Art blinked a little, but later smiled contentedly, squeezing the soft flesh under his fingers. He saw how scared and awkward you were, so he wanted to do it surprisingly carefully and slowly, although his own knowledge was limited to spying on fucking teenagers.

• Art pulled off your T-shirt, throwing it on the floor, and reverently gently ran his cold hands along your sides.

• Dark eyes burning with a primal hunger. With a swift motion, he lifts your skirt, exposing your bare thighs to his leering gaze. Art's long, pale fingers dig into your soft flesh, squeezing and kneading as if to claim you very essence.He hooks a thumb under your lacy underwear, yanking it aside to reveal the virgin petals, glistening with nervous moisture. Art's lips part in a silent, mocking grin, relishing your vulnerability. One gloved hand trails lower, fingers splaying across your slick heat as he rubs slow, deliberate circles.

• His painted mouth gently presses against your neck, leaving noticeable bite marks and black paint on your skin. He was clearly filled with a desire to mark you as his own. Art's desire grows, although the grin never leaves his face for a moment. The tension in your pants is almost painful. He carefully removes the glove from his left hand and gently runs his fingers along the curve of your heated thigh. Finally, he finds the coveted moist warmth by dipping one finger into it with a wet squish. You nervously bite your lip, trying to hold back the tears that have appeared in your eyes. Art kisses your neck and chin, caresses your sweat-soaked skin with his tongue and lips. The stretch around his fingers is so slight that Art wonders mentally how his dick would fit inside you. Without thinking twice, he dips another finger, and then another and another. Although your walls are still damn wet and hot, almost hungry.

• Art's fingers slow their rough exploration as he senses your increasing unease. He gentles his touch, caressing your thighs with tender strokes, as if trying to soothe any lingering nerves. He continues his deliberate advances, guiding one of your legs to wrap around his waist as he positions himself at your hot entrance. With a calculated slowness, Art begins to push inside, relishing each tiny resistance and the subsequent surrender of your innocence. He pauses often, allowing you to adjust to the intrusion, all while maintaining a hypnotic, unblinking stare. Once he's fully sheathed within you, Art's expression remains stoic, belying the depraved satisfaction he derives from your virgin heat and whimpers. He begins to move, setting a rhythm that's both brutal and methodical, his pale face a mask of concentration as he claims your body with a single-minded focus.

• His movements are slow, almost gentle. He gently squeezes your sides, allowing you to lean against him, and showers kisses on your face and hair.

• Gradually, his movements accelerate, his brain melts from the thrill of such a hot moment. But his mind is still focused on you. The way you sound, the way you feel, the way you feel good. He feels you pulsating and shrinking around him, and tries to rub as hard as possible against that strange point inside you from which, as he realized, you see the stars. Despite his inhuman nature, he was surprisingly absolutely focused on wanting to please you. He wanted you to feel good only with him. To make you feel good.

• When you cum around his cock with a short moan, Art gently presses you to him, splashing streams of hot semen into you and just catching his breath. His lips are kissing your neck, and his hand is stroking your wet hair. His way of saying 'good girl.'

[aft3rhrs]

— hangman ღ

number: unknown. pt 2.

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: strangers to lovers

warnings: dead dove, yandere, smoking, manipulation, corruption, allusions to depression and anxiety, allusions to past familial abuse, kidnapping, drugging, hints of fear kink (mind games, mentions & threats of snuff and necrophilia), allusions to cnc, mentions of stalking, angst, obsession, dub con, humiliation, praise, choking, possessiveness, outdoor sex, rough sex, dirty talk, use of triggering words in an erotic and degrading manner* (listed under the cut), creampie, mindbreak (??? a tiny bit), aftercare, mentions of murder and corpses, revenge themes, softer towards the end

*use of the word “rapist”.

masterlist

It's been three weeks since Jungkook has started seeing you in clubs. Five weeks of silence since the last phone call. It didn't take a lot for you to let your guard down, a tempting invitation for a predator like him. Were you passing time drinking, hoping he would finally come around and see where you've been hiding? Terrified of the moment fantasy bleeds into reality, but unable to resist its pull?

He didn't have to wait long to find out.

He caught when you were walking home, heart throbbing the moment he finally felt your warmth. The thick shadows of the alley concealed your bodies, and if anyone were to walk by, they'd see nothing but a pair of lovers embracing in the dark.

No one would notice the cloth damp from chloroform pressed into your mouth, or the way his voice made your frightened form soften in his arms.

"It's okay," he shushed. "It's just me, baby..."

A monster familiar was better than a beast unknown.

"I'm sorry, I just need you to take a nap. I'll take care of you. I promise."

He pressed his lips into your forehead, stroking your hair as you limped in his hold, less conscious by the minute. A kiss goodnight, marking your departure to the empty dreamland that swallowed you whole.

Jungkook scooped you up, carried you to his car, then laid you down at the back before starting the engine.

The drive was smooth, the roads long and dark, inky outlines of trees thickening as they stretched forward. The little dress you wore barely covered your legs, prompting Jungkook to turn the heating on; even if his jacket already kept you warm.

Two hours later, you began to stir.

Your eyes opened, hazy from sleep and the drug running through your system. Your consciousness fluttered awake slowly, along with all of your senses. You registered the feeling of Jungkook's heat blanketing you, his arm tight around your waist, keeping you tucked into his chest. You registered the weight of his hand cradling your cheek, and the smell of his cologne, mingling with leather.

"Had a good nap?" He murmured, his breath tickling your lips.

You blinked a few times, taking in the dimness of his car, and then the hooded eyes staring right into yours.

As if the reality of the situation just dawned on you, you startled, an incomprehensible protest fleeing your mouth. Your body seemed too weak to fight, however, and your mind wasn't in a much better place.

Jungkook buried his face in your neck when you jumped, brushing his nose along the smooth skin.

"Sorry, baby. I know you're tired, and we haven't seen each other in so long—" he whispered. "I've been going crazy without you."

You shivered promptly, your brain still muddled and heart thumping in your chest. You had no idea what was going on, and you were afraid to find out. Pride out the window, there was no denying that fact.

"But that's why tonight's a special occasion," Jungkook continued, still whispering. He lifted his head, the tip of his nose bumping into yours. "You know I'd do anything for you. Tonight I need you to do something for me."

You swallowed thickly. You wished you had the energy to slap him, kick him, bite him; but you felt too heavy.

"Go to hell," was all you managed, raspy and weak.

Jungkook chuckled. The sound made your blood boil. Fighting back only ever seemed to encourage his depraved nature, and it was humiliating, somehow, if not utterly discouraging.

"Hell is wherever I have to live without you," he mumbled into your cheek, "and trust me when I tell you, baby, you're never getting away from me again."

Your stomach sank, reaching depths you had no idea were possible. You watched him slip away from you to get out of the car, and the cold air that poured in wasn't the only reason your legs started shaking.

Like a gentleman, he reached for your hand and helped you out, most likely aware of how weak your knees felt. He steadied you against the door, letting you take in the dense woods surrounding you, the grim sight of empty branches twisting into the autumn sky.

You tried not to let the worst scenarios flood your head, yet it was a difficult wave to hold off; and impossible to run from.

"Where are we?"

Jungkook reached into his pocket.

"Out of town, little doe."

A glimmer of silver among the dark scenery caught your attention. You found yourself going rigid, staring at the shovel laying on the damp ground.

A click had your head snapping down. The barrel of a gun brushed against your hip, tender, like a lover's touch.

"Wanna get to work?"

The world tilted off its axis, your blood running cold, ice as blue as your veins.

You were going to die.

There was a small part of you that seemed to crack at the thought, prompting tears to burn your eyes. It wanted you to cry, plead him to stop and just take you home, to bed, so you could sleep it all away.

Yet a bigger part of you felt somewhat betrayed. He touched something dark inside of you, fed it until it bloomed, and now that you were so damaged he wanted you six feet under?

Jungkook bit his lip, a meek attempt at holding back a smile.

"Don't look at me like that. Not every girl gets to dig her own grave, you know. I even bought you flowers."

Still and silent as a statue, you didn't answer. The lump in your throat was too thick, the static in your head growing louder.

Jungkook leaned in, his gun languidly caressing your hip and plush lips teasing your ear.

"Here's your noose, baby. Are you ready for it?"

Your noose...

Were you supposed to trust him with it?

You were walking forward before you realized it, fists clenched and steps unsteady. You could have spent hours running through the woods, and you still wouldn't be able to escape him. Whether this was a sick game or your last night breathing, there was no denying that fact, either.

"You know what?" you snapped, grabbing the shovel, "I would rather die than spend another minute here with you."

You still tried to blink your tears away, refusing to give him the satisfaction, the last shreds of your dignity. You shoved the sharp edge of the tool into the earth, your vision blurred.

"I would rather die than ever see you again."

You were too busy throwing away the dirt, then digging in to gather more, to notice the way Jungkook's jaw tensed.

"I would rather be in the ground, than be around a psycho freak like you!"

The louder your voice rose, the more your throat ached, tears spilling over despite all your efforts. You continued to dig, completely disregarding seeing Jungkook walking towards you.

"Wow. I would watch your mouth if I were you, honey," he warned lowly, stopping a few inches behind you.

The shovel struck the earth again, a chill crawling down your spine.

"Ever gotten off to snuff porn?"

You froze, wide eyes staring into the ruined ground before you.

Jungkook ran his finger down your back, making you shiver.

"Well, I haven't. But I might start soon, with my personal little movie star, if you're not gonna be a good fucking girl."

The implication had your mouth instantly shut. You couldn't bear to turn around and look at him, or even run. Rooted to the place you stood in, withering away, like the trees that trapped you.

Jungkook snaked his arms around your waist, the gun still in his hand, flat against your abdomen.

"I don't like it when you lie, baby," he muttered, placing a kiss on your neck.

Your head was spinning strangely, shallow breaths leaving your lungs.

"Bet your pussy's wet. Probably been wet since I grabbed you. Bet it's clenching right now and you can't stand it, so you choose to be a fucking bitch... As always."

He kissed your neck once more, hot and breathy against your skin. Your knees almost buckled.

"You're so fucking dirty. Do you want me to snuff you out? Hmm?"

It was disgusting, the filth he spouted, the way he pressed himself closer to you, hard beneath his jeans. The way your tummy churned was worse, heat radiating on your skin despite the insistent brushes of the frigid wind.

"Want me to fuck you into that grave?"

You couldn't stop the tears, silent and hot, flowing in tandem with the slick sticking to your underwear. You still felt drugged out, your outburst doing nothing but leaving you hollow. Tiredness was beginning to take over, numbness spreading through your bones.

Maybe Jungkook was right. You were no better than him; aggression remaining your only self defense when you were left vulnerable. But now that it has faded, a quiet, devastating acceptance was starting to settle in.

You hated him — because you hated yourself. You wanted to be normal, to heal from the things that broke you. And every attempt ended in failure. Instead of encouraging you to try again, or critizing, Jungkook was the only person who wanted you as you were. In pieces.

He didn't mind getting cut on the shards. In fact, it seemed he'd be ecstatic to bleed for you, offer you everything he had. Toxic and twisted, no end to his devotion.

"Keep digging," he said hoarsely, then took a step back.

Like he was trying to stay in control.

You obeyed, sniffling quietly as you bent down to pick up the shovel.

He told you once that not everyone was made for this world; and you clearly weren't, but that was okay... because you were made for him. That you could keep trying to fit in and keep failing if you wanted — or let him in.

You didn't, and he crept inside anyway; a tender violence.

At this point, you didn't care much if you died or not. At least everything would be over. In the end, you didn't have much to wake up for.

Jungkook lit up a cigarette. He drank in the sight of sweat shining on your skin in the dim light of the moon, the shift in your demeanor as you continued digging.

"Easy," he called, blowing out smoke. "Don't hurt yourself, darling. That's my job. It doesn't need to be that deep."

You ignored him, no longer in the mood to talk. Or to provoke him any further, for that matter. Your arms almost trembled as the hole in the ground grew deeper, whether from strain or nerves, it was hard to tell. The thought of your body laying in the dirt, cold and forgotten, felt both unsettling and peaceful. As though nothing mattered anymore.

Jungkook watched you struggle, fingers stiff around the shovel, and yet you kept going, the scattered pile of dirt behind you increasing. He was pissed off, but finishing his cigarette soothed the fire, while noting how pale you've begun to turn put it out altogether.

He threw the bud away and jumped off the hood of his car to make his way towards you. His hand settled on your waist, pulling you up, while the other took a hold of the shovel.

"That's enough," he murmured, dropping it aside with a small thump. "Good girl."

You let yourself melt into death's arms.

Your head lolled to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck, unconsciously giving Jungkook the access he wanted. He kissed the tender flesh, squeezing your hips, still hard and hot beneath his jeans.

"The end is always a new beginning, baby."

You sighed, mascara wet and heavy on your lashes. Gently, Jungkook turned you around to face him, wiping the dark streaks from your face.

"I love you so much," he breathed into your lips.

His body was solid against yours. Your only source of warmth. Dizzy, you barely had the chance to glance up at him before he kissed you, swallowing your shaky exhale.

You let out a mellow squeal when his hands traveled down your legs, gripping your thighs to lift you with ease. For the first time you found yourself clinging to him, kissing him back with equal hunger instead of denial. You wanted to forget the world around you, the grave you've dug for yourself, much earlier than tonight.

Jungkook took a step, then another, before giving up entirely and lowering you down beside it, disconnecting your lips from his only the moment he hovered above you.

Pupils blown out, inky hair messy, he cupped your cheek, his heart thumping right against yours.

"Are you scared?" He asked softly, his thumb still wiping at your tears.

You stared up at him, trying to hold on to reality, but as always, your grip was slipping, and he was the only lifeline you had left. He stirred up the muddy waters in your heart, agitated the unbridled, starving things within their depths.

"Is this a punishment?" you found yourself uttering, barely a whisper.

Jungkook cocked his head to the side, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

"Mm, not really. Just a little game, to end all the others. And start something new."

You didn't know what to think or feel anymore, your hair splayed out on the ground, so cold beneath you, Jungkook's heat bleeding into your skin from above, and the world spinning.

You smacked his arm when he dipped down to mouth at your neck again; drained, the distorted hands under the water still reaching to pull him under with the remnants of your anger. He laughed, as though he found it adorable, immediately grabbing your face to kiss you again.

He didn't hesitate for a second, unzipping his jeans with one hand, and you could feel your core quiver against your better judgement. It was surprising to find that there was still some clarity left in you; or maybe it was easier to make peace with death than with the fact that you were your own traitor.

"Want me to fuck you in it?" Jungkook breathed, forcing your thighs apart.

You couldn't help the way your gaze fell down to his inked hand, wrapped around his cock. He tapped it against your inner thigh impatiently, precum wetting your skin. You clenched around thin air, spine tingling.

"The grave," he clarified, smirking.

The words finally hit you, and you shook your head, your hands frantically pushing at his chest.

"No!" you cried out, nails almost slashing the skin of his neck.

Jungkook grunted, pushing back, leaning his entire weight on you to put an end on your antics. Your breath hitched when you felt his fingers dip inside your underwear, pulling it aside abruptly. He didn't comment on how drenched the flimsy material was. The moment you were exposed, he was pushing inside you, incapable of focusing on anything but the warmth of your cunt.

The small hole stretched so nicely to accommodate him, fluttering around his cock. He groaned into your mouth, and your thighs shuddered around him, a restless heat boiling deep in your gut.

"You're so wet," he moaned, pulling back to feel the ring of muscles clench against his flushed tip, trying to suck him back in.

He shivered at the feeling, then proceeded to fuck himself in and out of you like he needed; like you both did. Hard.

"You're a filthy fucking minx, I shouldn't ask you anything unless I'm inside you. Your pussy won't lie to me, hm?"

Despite the whines he coaxed out of your throat, you shook your head, every wet slap of his cock thrusting in and out echoing through the woods. Imprinting on your brain.

"Oh yeah? How about we rewind a little, baby?"

He fucked you faster, angling his hips to find that little spot that made your mouth fall open. He wasn't going to go easy on it, or on you, chasing the high.

"What's gotten you so soaked?" He managed, panting. "Did you like the thought of me snuffing you out?"

Cheeks aflame, a choked out protest; and yet your pussy was getting tighter, soaking the thick grith pounding into it.

Jungkook let out a sound akin to a whimper, eyebrows scrunching.

"Fuck, I know you did," he leaned his forehead on yours, feeling his cock throb. "I know how much you want my cum, screaming or dead or asleep. And if I could live without you, baby, I'd do it for you, keep you so full of me."

A revolting insinuation; but you couldn't tell the difference between nausea and an approaching orgasm making your stomach twist.

Jungkook's lips inched towards yours, a deep groan rumbling out.

"That's it. Let it go. Let it all go, angel."

This was the way he wanted you to fall apart; on his big cock, tasting the kind of euphoria nothing and no one but him could offer. He felt his balls tighten, heavy as they slammed against you, almost ready to spill everything he had.

"Mhmm—" a sigh, a pause, hips grinding as his hand clutched your neck, feeling your pulse jump. "Yeah."

A drop of sweat slipped down his temple. Beautiful, with a mouth that dripped depravity, he might as well have had two horns growing out of his head, a forked tongue hidden under the illusion of humanity.

He resumed his ruthless pace, unwilling to let you look away, dissociate from him. In fact, the way you squirmed under him, succumbing to the rush, pliant and loud as you cried, had him choking you harder, crushing the rest of your pride.

"Close?" He bit down on your lower lip, pulling on it. "What do you think your friends would say if they saw you like this?" He husked, his hand crawling up your chest. "Getting fucked out in the woods... by your stalker. Do you think they would be surprised?"

He fondled you over the soft material of the dress, focused on nothing but pumping you full of him. You felt like heaven, and your tight little cunt responded to his words, even if you didn't want to, fluttering and releasing more slick.

"They shouldn't be," he swallowed harshly, watching your eyes fall closed. "They don't know you at all. Don't know how much you like this cock forcing you open."

For the first time that night, it was clear that your thighs weren't trembling from fear. That greedy pussy wasn't letting him go, and Jungkook was tipping towards the edge, no filter on his thoughts anymore.

"But I know," his head fell into your neck, a hot mumble striking your skin. "You're such a good girl, such a good fucking girl, and such a dirty fucking whore, just for me— aaahhh, fuck."

There it was; his favorite way of getting to you. Kissing, biting and licking at your monsters until they'd submit, recognizing him as one of their own. His cock liked it too, the way you fell to pieces under him, back arched and hands digging into his shoulders.

"I feel you, baby," he groaned, "knew you'd cream my cock. That's all you can think about, isn't it?"

You whimpered, delirious, though it still sounded like a 'no', a cute, little lie to ward off your guilt. For some reason, it turned Jungkook on more. He lifted his head and sucked at your lower lip, rutted into you harder.

"Go on, baby," he breathed, "cream it. No need to be shy, you're already mine."

A trail of sloppy, possessive kisses marked your neck, electricity trickling through your spine.

"My prettiest baby, my only girl," Jungkook babbled drunkenly. "Go on, do it for me. Yeah..."

Eyes dark, locking on yours, his voice lowering to a shaky whisper.

"Come on your rapist's cock."

You unraveled like his word was holy, clamping down on him and ripping a hoarse moan out of his throat. He fucked you through it anyway, too close to the edge to stop his own fall; his cock throbbed, long spurts of hot cum filling your ruined hole, so deep and so good his eyes rolled back.

He swore filthily, knees like cotton and his hand digging into your throat, staking his claim, the rush too sweet not to let it linger. It flowed through his entire body, pulsing and warm, like the sun. It flowed through yours too, imploding, and wiping out the rest of existence. As far as you were aware, Jungkook was all that was left.

You didn't feel anything else; not the passage of time, nor the cold air grazing your arms. Only his lips, leaving kiss after kiss on your face, muttering praises you could barely make out with your mind numbed out.

You weren't sure how long you've spent laying there, his cum leaking out of you, bones like jelly and skin sticky. At last floating in the dark, like fog, and still being kissed all over, your flesh existing only where his lips touched.

By the time he pulled you up, you didn't have the capacity to wonder what was going to happen next.

So why were you crying again?

You even didn't notice until Jungkook sat you on the hood of his car, cupping your cheeks.

"No more, baby," he pleaded. "Relax. I've got you."

You were so tired.

You wished you could lie down and sleep, but Jungkook reached for the hem of your dress, inching it up.

"I'm gonna need this."

Your heart flipped. Still, you were too out of it to protest or ask why.

Goosebumps flooded your skin as he took the clothing off you, gently, leaving you in nothing but your underwear.

As if shutting down, you stayed there; once again, unmoving. You listened to the trunk pop open, stuck on the odd rustling sound that followed. A loud thud came, making you flinch.

Then, more rustling.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Jungkook dragging something towards you, a faint, unpleasant smell of blood reaching your nose.

Your stomach turned.

You stared at the bag, and he stared at you, unceremoniously dropping your dress on the wrapped up corpse.

Perhaps it was the way you gasped that had him reaching out, the same hands that took a life massaging your bare sides to comfort you.

"Close your eyes for the next part, baby," he whispered.

His nose brushed against yours. You felt your lower lip tremble, but still did as he asked.

"Good girl," he praised.

Frowning, you attempted to make some sense of what was happening, attempted to keep your heart from jumping to your throat.

It did anyway.

Sensing your distress, Jungkook kissed your lips.

"Remember a girl called Jia?"

No more pounding, or skipping beats. Everything seemed to come to a halt, including your heart.

Jungkook squeezed your waist. His voice remained quiet, a ghost in the wind.

"Not a pretty sight."

Inhale.

Exhale.

He took a hold of your trembling hand, leaving a loving kiss on each knuckle.

"Tonight, you die, baby," he murmured, the next kiss landing on your temple. "And nothing bad will ever happen to you again. Just you and me, yeah?"

The tears that fell were different now. Something broke. But it felt like release.

The soothing warmth of his hands vanished, and you kept your eyes closed. Even as the bag rustled and the stench got worse, even as another thud echoed through the empty woods.

How did he know?

Somehow, it still surprised you. Somehow, you couldn't bear to disobey him as he filled the grave you dug up, burying the biggest nightmare of your past. The so called family that had torn your life and soul apart.

There was no doubt in your mind that if he found her, he found him, too.

You listened to the metal dig into the earth again, dirt gathering on top of her corpse. Clad in your dress, butchered, rendering her unrecognizable. Teeth, face, hands — ruined. Jungkook had thought of everything, it seemed. A perfect crime.

The only traces of DNA left? Yours. Whatever still lingered on that little black dress.

As of tonight...

You were were dead.

Jungkook threw the shovel away, huffing, then made his way back towards the car. He heaved a sigh and pulled you in, held you close, sheltering you from the rest of the world.

Your fingers wrapped around the fabric of his sleeve, squeezing.

He acknowledged the gesture by kissing the top of your head, eyes closed. There was no rush, really, besides the longing to finally take you home and get into bed to sleep.

No more games. No more pain.

The end was always a new beginning.

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[jarofstyles]

Let It Burn

Hey….. now this is unhinged and dark but I figured why not give you a bit of crazy H AND Crazy Y/N 🤭

Check out our Patreon for early access and 180+ exclusive writings

WC- 2.5k

Warnings: whew… dark Harry and dark y/n, toxic relationship and other elements, mention of murder, blood, mention of an abuser (not h), theft, they are not stable lol, breeding kink, rougher sex, tattoos, a hint of anal… it’s a ride :-)

Obviously this does not depict any real people or events!

Artwork is not mine, credit to owner

———

“Did you find him?” Fingers slid over the back of his wrist, alerting him to the woman’s presence behind him. “Look surprised to see me.”

Following instruction, he put on a believable show of raising his eyebrows, letting the smile take over his face before he brought her in for a hug. Playing a role was something the both of them felt increasingly comfortable in each and every time they did it. It should be habit by now, 3 years into it.

“I did. He’s down here, red tie in the second booth to the right.” A stealthy swipe of the button of her purse, he slipped the key inside of her bag. “It should be clear when you go up there. The combination for the safe is in your notes app.” Returning to full height, he leaned his hip against the bar. His voice spoke clearly now, letting the bartender overhear his words.

“It’s been so long since we caught up, hasn’t it? How have you been?” He flagged the man down, giving a charming smile. “Can we get the lady a vodka sprite, please? Thank you.”

“It’s been ages, hasn’t it?” She giggled, playfully swatting his chest. Like they hadn’t seen each other naked in the rumpled sheets of the bed just this morning before splitting up in order to achieve the goal they’d been working towards. “I’m so glad you reached out. I didn’t know you’d be in town.”

Creating an alibi wasn’t really difficult, all things considered.

In all fairness, so was this life of crime. The natural skills they possessed had led them to this moment, led them to one another and bonded them at the seams. A couple infamous and yet unknown, their stories told all around. The wealthy clutched their pearls at their names while sitting at the same tables as them, sharing appetizers. It gave them a sick sense of satisfaction each and every time.

“It was a bit of a surprise. I had hoped you’d still be here.” He moved a bit closer, letting the heat sizzle between the both of them. It was always like this before they completed their goal. ¾ths of the way there, their finish line was so close they could almost taste it. “We do have some history, hm?” Biting his lip, he stroked over her hip. It was always difficult for him to keep his hands off of her- his one true weakness.

“Oh, stop.” She let out another fake giggle and pushed his chest. It took everything in him not to laugh too, considering she was definitely milking it now. Realistically no one was probably listening in to their conversation, but if they were? They didn’t want to leave any room for questioning. “We do. And you know… it’s been a long time considering I’ve been divorced.”

“Oh?” A roleplay of sorts. Harry always leaned into these, smirking down at her. The sparkly eyeshadow glimmered in the low light of the bar, mascara coating her lashes with a slight smudge on her lowe lashline- giving him a glimpse of his future. He loved when she got all dressed up just for him to ruin her. Make a whole different idea of art on her face. “Well, I did hear that through the grapevine. I was hoping you’d be single again.”

Y/N shivered at his gaze. Just one look and he could eat her alive, they both knew it. They were each other's world. Their only weaknesses. A package deal since the day they’d met, there had never been a connection quite as strong as theirs and they both knew not to take it for granted.

In reality, if Y/N wasn’t single it wouldn’t matter to Harry. He’d claim her anyway. Take her again and again in the same bed her husband slept in if need be, because there was no universe that they wanted to exist in that they didn’t belong to one another. It was something a psychologist would probably deem unhealthy, but considering their professions and personalities, they didn’t plan on seeing any of them anytime soon.

“Well I am.” Running a manicured finger down his chest, she stepped into his space. Not uncommon for bar spaces, people getting closer and alluding to what would happen once they reached privacy. “Are you interested?” The coy look through her lashes went straight to his cock, a reminder of the night they’d met. It had been instantaneous, like a moth to a flame. No one else existed in the room once they’d caught eyes for each other, but they played cat and mouse in their banter. It had ended in her coming to Harry’s place and never leaving his side.

His playboy days ended the day they met. No other cunt would feel as good as hers, no one would moan as pretty, and certainly no one would be as filthy as she was. Letting the passion overrun them, letting her nails dig into his back and opening her mouth for his spit, he had met his match in the back of his car where round one of four that night had happened. Meeting each other, kissing, fucking, being partners in crime? It just made sense.

“More than.” The energy crackled between them, igniting his stomach as she brought the little red straw between her lips and sipped on the drink. “I’ve got a room, if you want to go talk up there. It would be a bit more….’comfortable.” And he did have a room-

One booked under a fake name, under a fake identity that wouldn’t be traced back to them. But they both knew Y/N wasn’t going to go straight to his room.

“I think I’d enjoy that. Will you pay the bill so we can go?” Dragging her French tipped claws down his pale skin and tiny thatch of chest hair, she sent the saucy smile up at him before letting her eyes fall down to his lips. “It’s a bit too cold down here for me. I think I’m going to warm up.”

“Go ahead, Angel.” He nodded. “Room 308, when you’re done.”

——

“You are so fucking sexy.” Harry panted, the bag of jewels and cash off to the side. His hands were too busy running over the arch of her back as she ground herself over his lap, fingers tugging his belt off.

“Yeah? How sexy am I?” She purred, head falling back as his lips ran over her sensitive throat. Teeth grazed it, making her inhale sharply before working harder to get him out of his damn trousers.

“The most beautiful… alluring… sexy…. Sensual… evil woman I’ve ever come across.” His words were kissed into the skin, both palms finding her ass and dragging her dress up to bunch over her waist. “And I own you. You belong t’me. You’re never getting away from me.”

The promise would probably turn most people off, make them scramble off his lap and ask what he meant- but for Y/N, it only made her more aroused. Being reminded that there was nothing and no one that would come between the both of them was reassuring, a welcome sensation as she managed to fish him out of his pants. “Fuck me then. Prove it.” Her taunts always worked. Y/N knew how to push his buttons, as he did hers, no surprise in when he flipped them over and pinned her down, giving little time to prepare before lining himself up with her cunt and pushing in.

The groan between the both of them was loud, but their frantic need was overcoming the need to be quiet. “Fuck you?” He cooed. “Every time I’m inside of you… I-own-you.” The last sentiment was emphasized by thrusts that jostled her body. Her toes curled as her legs fastened against his lips, the feral smile on her face growing as the hand not holding her wrists together ripped the top of her dress down to expose her tits.

“Yes, you do.” She hiccuped. “And I own you. You’re mine, and you’re so….” Her words stuttered as each deep thrust got into her stomach. “You’re so obsessed with me. You’ll never let me g-go.” Her last sentence was hissed out. “I won’t let you.”

“Never.” He snarled, rutting into her poor cunt like he was crazed. He sort of was, to be honest. Every time they did another little mission, he got increasingly turned on afterwards. Knowing they pulled it off, they they were richer, that unstoppable feeling only made his cock harder and his need more desperate each and every time. “Never going to let you go. I’d kill someone before letting you go…” he let out a crazed laugh, connecting their mouths for another kiss. “I have, haven’t I? Fucked you with their blood on my hands and you fucking loved it, you crazy bitch.” The word wasn’t an insult, but the highest praise.

Y/N moaned, nodding at the accusation. There was no way either of them were sane, not in the slightest, but they were smart. They were practiced and cunning and no one had a clue who they were. Equal obsession with one another had only resulted in a secret empire of wealth and blood that they would be craving forever.

“I did. I love when you’re mean.” Her cunt was slick and hot, clenching around him as he thrust into her with a fervor that was only matched after their missions. “I love when you hurt people for me, Sir. I love when you fuck me in their blood, I love when you-“ her neck fell back and she arched her body as he shifted and hit the spot she had been waiting for. “Oh- fuck. I love you.”

“Yeah, you do. You love me so much, don't you? Think it even compares to how much I love you…” the man panted. “Got your name tattooed right above my cock so you can see that you own it. Get it wet with your cream every fucking time….” He wrapped his fingers around her waist, pulling out momentarily to flip her over. “Let me see it- let me fucking see it.”

Y/N’s face buried in the mattress, she shakily put her hand back to ride up the dress and show the stamp above her ass marking his name. “That, Sir?” She cooed, knowing it was exactly what he wanted to see. The script that marked her ass as his as he fucked into her weeping hole, his intensity moving up as she felt his thumb trace the outline of it.

“Yeah- that’s what I want. Never going to forget who you belong to, hm? Who owns your heart, your body, your soul. M’nothing without you.” His tone darkened, spreading her ass open and spitting over her hole and pressing his thumb inside. “You’re never allowed t’leave me. I’ll follow you anywhere, I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you. There’s nothing I want without you.”

As toxic as the words were, it sent her over the edge. Hand slamming against the duvet, curling her fingers into it as she sobbed out his name, the white hot pleasure rushed over her body and shook her core. Slick dripping from her cunt and both holes clenching around the intrusions, she felt her eyes roll back as the bullying of her pussy continue.

“That’s my girl. Cum around my cock again.” He commanded. “Can’t fuckin’ wait until I can knock you up. Want you full of my babies, all the fuckin’ time.” Considering their lifestyle the babies had to be put on pause until they amassed enough wealth to feel comfortable stopping full time, but Harry had been dreaming about getting her connected to him in that way for ages. “Full of me. My cum is good, but it isn’t enough. Need to own you that way.” He was crazy, yes, but he loved her.

“Soon.” She gasped, feeling as his thrusts got harder. That talk always made him more aroused, and based off of the pulsing she felt inside of her it wouldn’t be long. “I’ll let you do anything you want to me. Gonna be the b-best. You’ll take care of us, won’t you?” She panted into the air, face turned to the side as he added another finger into her ass. Her eyes flashed with colors as he pounded into her, surely making her sore for tomorrow but neither of them cared.

“I’ll burn down the world for you.” He promised through his grunts. “For you and our little family. Watch the entire thing go down in flames like that one time…” the first time they’d realized they were as crazy as one another. When he had set the car on fire with her abuser inside of it, and she had kissed him for it. “I’ll do it again, and again, and again… fuck, I love you.” Harry’s voice strained as he felt her clench up around him. “Give it to me, baby. Give me your pleasure. I’m so fucking close.”

They needed to get the fuck out of there before their signal blockers ended and the security team caught on to the looping footage. Before the bastard they’d stolen from realized the riches he had brought with him were gone. But neither of them could stop themselves from making their own fucked up version of love before they finished and got into their getaway car.

Y/N could feel how wet she had gotten him, feel the knot in her belly expand as he bullied that one spot in her channel over and over again, each pound making her get closer and closer to the edge. “H-Harry…” she plead for him, putting a hand back for him to hold. Immediately he took it, squeezing her hand in his own.

“I know, baby. I know, you’re creaming all fucking over me. Let it go. Let me fill you up the way you deserve.” He pleaded, fucking his fingers into her as his cock followed the rhythm. “Give it to me, my perfect girl. My pretty little wife, cum on my cock.” The coaxing was low, the headboard smacking against the wall and the sound of their sex obnoxiously loud as she came.

“Oh- fuck!” The man growled as he felt the splash of her cumming on him- squirting on his cock as he fucked into her, his thrusts getting sloppy. “That’s what I wanted, you dirty slut. I am so in love with you and this perfect pussy… fuck me.” He wheezed, feeling the crest of his orgasm wash over him. “Take it, take it all.” The sloppy thrusts turned into short, rough ones. Fucking his load into her, little grunts leaving his chest as he pretended it could catch.

One day it would, and that would be the day their dangerous fun on the road would be over, and they’d begin their lives all over again.

[netherfeildren]

Kiss, Kiss, Kill, Kill!

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: Joel is a long haul truck driver. One day he finds a pretty girl in a diner and decides he’d like to keep her. 

Murder and sex ensue!

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: No outbreak; Graphic depictions of violence; Murder; Blood; Gore; Threat of SA; Impotence; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Loss of virginity; Virginity kink; Breeding kink; Spit kink; Rough sex; Pussy slapping; Dark!Joel; Mean!Joel (also kinda crazy and pathetic); Obsessive behavior; Possessive behavior; Discussions of suicidal ideations; Unreliable narrators; Alcoholism; Consensual non consent kind of (But not previously discussed - they're both into it tho); Use of misogynistic language; Grief

A/N: Hi :) Another one just bc I have no self control. 

Parts of the narrative read a little disjointed and/or confusing. This is intentional. I was kind of trying something weird out here, I guess.

Word Count: 9.7K

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The first time Joel sees you, it’s a Thursday. His least hated day of the week, but not his favorite, for he doesn’t really have any favorite things anymore. Your eyes’d stunned him at that first look. They sparkled as if dusted with frost – speared him with an intensity that burned. 

But no… that was a lie, and Joel is trying not to be such a liar anymore. He does have one favorite thing now. This middle-of-nowhere diner, this place where’d he’d found you. 

The first time he’d actually talked to you, you’d interrupted his own stubborn, sour silence with a silence of your own. Different, agonizing, compared to your usual persistent fishing for his attention. 

“What’re you doin’ out here in this wasteland, sweetheart?” Because you look sweet as that cherry pie you’re always trying to push on him. 

“Been here my whole life.” It’s verging on evening, the sky gone to melancholy, and there’s a young girl with dark hair weeping on the shoulder of an older woman in the booth over. He wants to snap at her, demand to know what the fuck she could possibly have to cry over? He’s sure she mustn’t have a dead daughter like him, and so there really seems to be no reason for tears. 

“No plans to leave?”

You shake your head, hum a little, set the coffee pot down on the edge of the table to pop a hip out and think on your answer. “Guess you could say I’m a little bit weak or scared, don’t know.”

“Doubt that,” a surprised laugh forced out of him. Entirely improbable, he knows this just by looking at you. “You’ve got eyes that seem as if they’ve never held fear within them in your entire life.” And he makes you laugh at that, head thrown back, throat rippling. The sound like the tolling of the bell indicating the start of the rest of his life. 

When you’re done gifting him your laughter, you ask, “What about you? Why are you here?”

“My daughter died.” Plain. 

Your eyes seem to shutter or flicker, something like a chimera about them, “When?”

“Two years ago.” He watches the crying girl and the old woman get up to go. And then the two of you are alone. You move to sit in the booth across from him. He’d been coming in here to see you for more than half that time since, and now, the first time the two of you are having an actual conversation, and this is what he’s decided to open with. But really, it’s the only story he has to tell anymore. He watches you watch him for a long moment, as though you’re searching for something within him, or mulling over what it is you want to say to him, the shift of your jaw from side to side as you chew on your words. He feels easily frightened now – fragile – and yet vibrantly malignant, at the same time. A juxtaposition on two opposite ends of the spectrum of good and not so good, or perhaps, verging on very, terribly bad, in the grocery store line of human morality. Two Joel’s at the start and end of the queue who could not seem to come to terms with one another. Enemies – they were enemies of each other. A Joel who’d once had a daughter, and a Joel who now did not. A Joel who’d pulled a trigger at his own temple, and one who’d never even considered such a thing. He draws his finger along the line of scar tissue at his temple.

For a long time he’d wanted to tear a hole in his world and escape, but he was no master of inventiveness. On the contrary, he found his attempt rather miserly – had short changed himself at the last moment and flinched. But perhaps, it had been for this reason – for you, to find you. He wishes he could peer inside your mind, crack open your skull and read everything you’re hiding away from him inside there. A violent thought, but you make him feel slightly violent, or – no, that’s not it – for Joel is already a violent man. It’s more that you pull a specific hue of violence out of him, incite it, like he needs to move, to howl, to claw at something, at you, scream and scream and scream to keep your undivided attention on him forever. 

“I’m sorry for your loss,” you say finally, voice quiet. “How old was she?”

His loss. That was a funny way of putting it. It had never felt like a loss. The word was too small. Four letters was not enough to describe what it really was. There was no word for what it felt like. An emaciation of his very self until he simply ceased to exist. Something that had sucked his soul, his heart, his brain out of his body, but they didnt feel lost. They felt destroyed, decimated, or like they had never existed. Sometimes the feeling left him confused, disoriented – this strange purgatory he’d been relegated to, it was like it had never happened in his mind sometimes, or like it had happened to a different man. Like that life with that beautiful little girl with the green eyes who’d had a father who loved her, who’d then died, had happened to someone else. Someone who wasn’t Joel. Like a war that had raged and raged for centuries, and now nothing was left in its wake. Only that terribly fraught reminder of a violence too grotesque for a human mind to conceive. 

How could he miss something, wish for something so, so, so fucking desperately he’d peel his very skin from his body himself to get it back, but also feel like it didn’t belong to him anymore? Like it had never happened to him, like he remembered it out of his own body? A dream that belonged to someone else, and Joel’d only been told of it second hand. His mind was fractured now, he knew this. He wasn't right – broken or glued together the wrong way. His bones didn’t fit in his joints the way they were supposed to anymore. He was all wrong and ugly and fucked. 

“She was twelve.”

“My whole family’s dead,” you say it almost casually, with a half shrug of your shoulders. “Is that why you started driving? To get away?”

He’s been a long haul truck driver for going on two years now. Started just after Sarah – needed to get away, to get lost. He didn’t enjoy it – he does not enjoy it. Not because the work is bad or boring or what have you, but because he doesn’t enjoy anything anymore. But it’s productive and pays well and… well, he does appreciate the solitude. There is that, at least. He’d been on the route from New Mexico to Washington for several months now, and it was fine. Occasionally, he’d head up to the Dakotas – not so fine, longer, harder trek, but he managed it. He preferred this one, preferred the darkness of the north west corner of the country. He never went further south than New Mexico, though. Absolutely never into Texas. He’d never go back there again. 

“Sure… to get away.” He couldn’t be there anymore afterwards, had nothing left. “My neighbor, Anna, she’s got a teenager, Ellie. Sweet kid. Weird kid,” he laughs fondly, remembering the two of them. “The kid was friends with my daughter, Sarah. And after everything– well, after everything, Anna made sure they both stuck around. Didn’t let me shut myself away the way I wanted to,” ill-shaven recluse, confused, fractured, “They’re good people. You’d like them, I think. They’re… they’re my friends.” They were another reason he kept doing the driving, he liked to send money back to Anna and Ellie. He knew they didn’t need it, didn’t want it, but he had to. He needed to feel like he was still taking care of someone, contributing to someone’s well being. It was just part of who he was. 

“I’m sure I would.”

He watches your silent enrapture as you listen to him tell you of his pseudo life. After a while he’d realized that was all he’d started doing, making his way back to you, to this diner where you work. A sad place for ugly men to stop in on a pause from their interminable journeys and lay eyes on an angel. He hadn’t even really realized that’s what he was purposely doing or that it’d become a pattern. He just needed something to see at the end of the tunnel, a light to look towards when he was lost in the darkness. That’s what you are, a single flickering light in the abyss of darkness he exists in now. 

You’re small – tiny compared to Joel’s own hulking size. He thinks he could break you, easily, if he isn’t careful, if he so felt like it. And you were – you are so fucking pretty. He thinks of you so often. Almost as often as he thinks of his dead daughter which might seem wrong or strange, but it’s really nothing more than the two opposite ends of a spectrum of perfect beauty that he’s known within his lifetime that now he cannot reach either end of. Sarah – dead, forever out of reach. And you. Too perfect for consideration, too beautiful and good for these monstrous hands of his. The thing he’s become in his grief is not worthy of a gorgeous creature like you. His existence post Sarah’s death had become some sort of apocalyptic dysphoria where the only monster here was Joel. But he does like to watch, and he does like to think of you. To come to your diner and sit and watch you serve coffee to your customers – the scum that muddles through here isn’t worthy of laying eyes on you – men like him. Sometimes, when he sits here silently, pretending to ignore you and not be entirely beguiled by you, he feels as if he has a purpose again, like the money for Anna and Ellie, getting to inconspicuously watch over you, make sure no one gives you a hard time gives him purpose. And when he goes, even though he never really wants to, he takes you with him in his mind through the long stretches of his hauls. When there are nothing but ghosts to keep him company. When thoughts of Sarah and that dead life become too overwhelming, he calls you to mind, plans his routes to make his way back to you. 

You’re also fucking persistent – not giving him the chance to wallow away in his silence and brooding. He was rude at first, gruff and unresponsive and wouldn’t ever acknowledge your queries of, How’s it going today, and, Oh, back again I see. Sometimes he wanted to snap and just spit the truth at you, ‘course, I’m fuckin’ back, I’m here to see you, I’m obsessed with you. And rounds and rounds of, Can I get you another cup of coffee? The same as usual? You’d memorized his order. Pestered and pestered and pestered for his name until he’d finally ceded it to you, and, How ‘bout some cherry pie this time? After a while you’d gotten sick of his recalcitrant bullshit and just dropped off the piece of pie, slipping it onto the edge of the table and sliding away without a word or a half look back at him. He’d eaten the whole damn thing, savored it, and caught your sassy, little smirk after he’d finished. He’d wanted to bend you over the counter and spank your ass until you cried after that. He bets you’d taste as sweet as that pie, that if he slapped your cunt enough times he could get it red as a cherry. He bets you’d like that – that you’d like it a little rough, a little dirty, a little mean. You might look like an angel, but Joel’s seen the way you look at him, the way you follow him with your eyes, leaning against the counter, chin cupped in your small palm watching him eat his eggs and drink his coffee. 

You want him. 

But Joel is frightened – frightened and cowardly and not right, and as much as you look like an angel, he also worries you might have the ability to entice him into very, very bad things – to provoke him into depravity, even. There is a part of him, large or small given the day and the mood and the weather that he walks in here on, that has the rotten half of his mind whispering at the not-so-rotten half that he wants to defile and debase you, and that he’s pretty sure you’d like it if he did. He wants to fuck you full of his come and then watch it leak out of your used, gaping hole. Then he wants to lick you clean, kiss it all better so that he can do it all over again.

The first few times he’d stopped at your diner, he’d pretended he hadn’t even noticed you, would lie to himself in his mind and tell himself that he had no interest in a little thing like you. He had no interest in women, in making connections, in having conversations. Occasionally… well– no, not occasionally. Twice, it had happened twice now, when the urge had struck, the itch had become too persistent, and his hand not enough, he’d gotten a hooker. The first time he’d shut down completely, lost his hard on and not been able to finish. The second time… he’d finished. He might’ve even made the woman come, he hadn’t bothered to ask, but he thought he might have. Then he’d gone back to his truck and cried great heaving sobs. Like he’d said… not right, he wasn’t right anymore. Couldn’t even fuck a whore without blubbering like a baby. He’d wondered if perhaps his grief had made him impotent. That’d be funny. That type of funny thing that is also a humiliation… you know the sort?

But after a while, the lie had become too much of a farce, even for his own mind. He knew, from that first moment he’d walked in, and you’d spun around, a bright smile and chirpy, little voice telling him to sit anywhere you’d like, be right with you, mister, that he’d taken notice. More than notice. He’d put you in his pocket that day and had carried you with him in some way since. Like a stone chosen off the beach, washed up by the tide and deposited in the sand just for him to come across, or maybe like a fucking infection, like the plague, for he did not want this. He did not want to think of you. He did not want to think of anyone or anything. He wanted to be alone and without anything or anyone for the rest of his life. If he did not have anyone, if he remained alone, then he could never again experience that loss which was not truly a loss, but something much worse and devastating, and even, perhaps, a little hilarious, in that way that a hilarious thing can also sometimes be humiliating and shameful… there it is. A loss that is not a loss for it is a thing so devastating it becomes something else entirely. A humiliation to one’s very existence, a decimation, emaciation, all the things, all the things, and nothing at the same time.

His mind was wont to ramblings, on occasion now. Perhaps, incoherence, was the better word. Anxiety, as well, panic, tears. Couldn’t even fuck a hooker without weeping, howling, a few sobs. 

He had wandered so far, and sometimes he thought, I want to go home, but of course, that home no longer existed. It had been put in the ground two years ago and lost forever. The dissatisfaction of constant ennui. He could, perhaps, return to the geographical place, but nothing familiar would remain. He couldn’t live with the memory, he couldn’t live away from it. It was like it had simply ceased to exist that day that she’d died, and every moment since that moment was just a series of moments filled with a yearning for some place that no longer existed. He didn’t think he’d ever again feel at home anywhere.

And yet…

He turns back to look at you. 

“How did they die? Your family.”

“Home invasion – murdered. He never found me, hid in the boiler closet.”

“Little rabbit.”

“Hmm,” a huff of a laugh, “Maybe. Someone once said I was lucky. Pretty fucked up, no?”

“Do you feel lucky?”

“Never. Angry – that I’d been left behind.”

“Yeah…”

“Alone.”

“Are you alone?”

You turn back to him. Inspect him. He watches the slant of your eyes take in his hair, his face, wrinkled, haggard, his chest, his arms – he feels a flush flare beneath his ribs, then back up to his eyes. He wonders if you’ve ever been fucked before. You’re young – but he can’t imagine how you wouldn’t have been. He thinks he’d do anything in this moment to get between your thighs, but also, he hopes you haven’t, hopes you could be all his, only his, his his. Mine. 

He hopes he won’t cry if he gets the chance. 

“Entirely,” you say finally. 

“I had– have– ” shakes his head, “I have, I guess, a brother. Tommy. But the last time I saw him… I was horrible.” They seldom saw each other now – lie – they never saw each other now. Truth, Joel. We’re telling the truth now. 

You laugh lightly, shrug, “Happens.”

“Sure…”

“What’d you do to him?”

“Ah, just couldn’t get a handle on myself after everything. Things got bad enough eventually, and we fought… a lot. Violently. I was violent. One morning I got out of hand, terrible – one of my biggest regrets. We hurt each other with our words and our fists, and in that way only two people who know each other too well can. He cracked my ribs, gave me half his orange in the evening, afterwards – said our apologies. He was gone the next day. Haven’t heard from him since. I just got to be too much for him,” he says again, needs to reiterate it, make sure you understand that he is too much and too dark, too unmanageable – ugly. That you should not be sat here with him. That he has a violence within him, and that you should probably run as fast and as far as you can, but that he cannot promise he will not follow. “I had…” he is ashamed of this part, surprising for he sometimes wonders if he still possesses the heart to feel shame, “I had a problem with drink for a while – not anymore, though,” he says quickly. “I promise, not anymore.” He should not be promising you anything. “I got control of it – knew it was making it all worse rather than better. Felt like I was trapped underwater with my damn ghosts – that … What's that thing called when – when sick people get like – like trapped inside themselves or somethin’? You ever heard’a that?”

-

“Locked-in syndrome.”

“Yeah– yeah. I read about that once or heard it somewhere – that’s what it felt like when I was drinkin’ – fuckin’ terrible. Let it go after a while… but by that time… Tommy was gone, done with me. I was – dunno… like some sort of demon or somethin’ – somethin’ bad.” He huffs a small, derisive laugh, looks at you with that ridiculously charming, crooked half smile. 

That laugh sparks a kindling of anger inside of you for him. This is a broken, angry, creature of a man, you think. Something fractured – not whole, and he must be handled with care and gentleness. “How could he just leave you?

“Didn't give him a choice. Sometimes people deserve to be left.”

“I wouldn’t have.” That sobers him, wipes the smile right off his handsome face. You think of the invisible giants hurting this man in some unimaginable fashion; of the endless tenderness coiled up inside of him and how the crushing of that tenderness – the death of it – has given way to what may be considered madness. Because after all these months of watching him, of him watching you, you can see it, recognize that tenderness for what it is, but also the madness, for it is impossible to ignore if you’re really looking. Soft marrow at the center of a hard man. 

“I did other things… worse things.”

“Try me.”

“I tried to kill myself.”

You whistle, long and low. You actually had not been expecting that one, at least, not the admittance of it, “You’re just full of truths,” for looking at him – the sort of man he’s built as, the thought that he could be felled by anything, even his own hand, is a little hard to believe. 

“Feels like a sort of confessional in this–”

“Shithole–”

“Diner–”

Your voices overlap. You both laugh. You think you quite like the sound of your voices intermingling one on top of the other. 

“What happened?”

“Flinched–”

“I flinch all the time.”

“Have you ever thought about killing yourself?”

You hum, tilt your head side to side on your neck as if you’re letting the thought slide from ear to ear within your skull. “Perhaps only the peripheral idea of it, but never with much imagination or dedication. I don’t think I have that much to kill myself over, you know?”

“Your family?”

“Not really – it’s sort of become just this… this thing that happened once. I don’t feel much ownership over it anymore. Don’t know why, exactly.”

“Sure, that’s how I feel about it sometimes too. That belongs to a different man now – like– like some actor or a facsimile, and I just look in on it as if from a distance. Enjoy the sight of someone else's suffering…” He shakes his head, “That doesn’t make sense.”

“No, no, I understand. Something to do in the way that a tragedy can be compelling to watch. You can let go, let go of your awareness of yourself and experience it in a way you’d never do so in the present moment.”

“A dissociation.”

“Yes. Why would you want to go and relive the basest parts of yourself all alone, over and over again? Not likely.”

“But it was me.”

“A dissociation,” you repeat, smile. 

“Yeah,” he pauses, turns the coffee cup round and round with the slow spin of his wrist as if to dissolve the remains of the grounds you know the shitty machine has left deposited at the bottom. There is a small dusting of golden brown hair covering his wrist and disappearing up his forearm beneath his flannel. You want to taste it, follow the trail to places unknown. “Not so well adjusted, us two,” And he laughs then. A real laugh. He lets you have a real laugh of his, and it is powerful – special. 

“Well… no.” Of course not. “I don’t think either of us could ever claim that.”

“Bet you’ve never been bad a single day in your life, have you?”

You cock your head, let your eyes slide from him to peer out the dark window. His lonely semi is parked under the single flare of light out there. The evening has sunk into a deep blue, the hue of mourning, of melancholy, and the pavement is wet with evening rainfall.

You'd heard that some trucks had spaces behind the seats where truckers could put a bed, have a place to rest. You wonder if he’ll take you back there and fuck you in his little bunk. And honesty is a fickle thing when discussing a topic like this, isn't it? There’s a depravity about him, and you can’t tell if the truth or the lie would placate him – incite him – more. To be similar in such a way as that which he’s imagining. A little bit of both, then. After all, intent holds weight – imagination, desire, it has a mass to it that can, if enough pressure is exerted upon it, be transformed into something else. 

“Not yet,” you tell him, sliding your gaze back to meet his, “Haven’t had a chance – but there’s still time.”

-

“What would you like to do?” He wants to take a bite out of that soft flesh you’re encased in, draw blood.

“Something depraved?” You’re taunting him – trying to provoke. It makes him slightly angry, but also hard. You should know what it is you’re toying with here. 

He frowns at you, at the lilting song of your words trying to beguile him into doing whatever it is you think you want him to do to you. “What is it that you think you want here? You don’t know what I was, how I lived. Shouldn’t be sat here with me, little girl,” he scoffs. “I was– was not– I don’t fucking know, not a man. I’m not, I’m not. Not a person anymore, just this thing that continues to exist. I should not have been expected to survive. This should mean something to you too. You also have no one. You’re alone too. You’re alone in the world. You know what it feels like to only live in the winter.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, and then you say: “I think I’ve come to quite like the winter.” And at that he knows he’s taking you for himself, whether you agree in the end or not. You’re going to be his. 

But he knows he must also let this roiling anger, this depraved hunger settle before he lays hands on you. Like this, in this state, he’d be too rough, break you, nothing compunctious about him or his jaggedness. He excuses himself for a smoke, your only response simply more of that inciting silence – more thoughts of cracked skulls and a cherry red cunt and tears after failed trysts with someone who doesn’t even know his name. He’s fucking embarrassing. What would Tommy say if he knew Joel couldn’t even get it up for a paid fuck anymore? He’d laugh in his face, never let him live it down. He misses his brother very much. He misses lots of things. 

He’s sucking on his Red under the awning of the diner’s entrance, imagining what it’ll be like to suck on your little clit, when he hears them. 

“She’s usually out about midnight. We’ll snag her then.” Grating, guttural voice.

“But I get to fuck ‘er first. This was my idea so I go first.”

“Yeah, whatever. S’only happenin’ ‘cause of me. Too fuckin’ stupid to see the plan through after all these months of watchin’ ‘er.”

“Fuck off.” Silence, and then almost with giddy elation: “We gonna kill her too?” Something cold and terrifying settles within Joel. 

A beat, “Should we?”

“Dunno, man. Might be fun, huh? Never done it before.”

“She’s fuckin’ pretty,” the voice draws the vowel out in a high pitched, sacharine whine. “Got the face of an angel.” Joel’s angel, his, his, only his.

He’s got his Bowie in a sheath on the back of his belt. Perhaps, this would be a useful exercise in release. After he’s dispelled his excess energy he can come back and touch you, take you. 

“Can’t wait to taste that cunt.” His cunt.

“Seen her tits, man? Fucking round and bouncy. Wanna make ‘em bleed.” And there’s only one avenue of consequence after that. After all, this is not the first time Joel’s done this. 

His most well kept secret.

Sometimes, when the itch cannot be eased, abated, by his hand or a fuck or a drink or any of the other readily available vices, he turns to this. Only when the straits were dire. Only when he saw no other recourse. Only after his daughter was dead and in the ground and his brother gone away from him

. 

But sometimes… sometimes it’s just fun. Sometimes it’s useful for a man to do that thing that he really feels he wants to do, if only to enjoy himself, if only to let go of some of that suffocating tension. If only to keep vermin like this away from an angel like you. 

“We’ll chill in the woods for a while, wait the little thing out, yeah?” Joel edges his way towards the edge of the building closer to them, peeks a lone eye around the corner. Two men, middle aged. Not a problem. Not for a man like him. 

He waits for them to make their way to the edge of the tree-line, watches them disappear into the gloom. He looks back into the diner through the murky windows. The warm glow of the overhead lamps washing you in a hue of golden light that brings out all the warm goodness in you he’ll take for himself once he’s snuffed out this issue. 

No one’s going to touch you but him. No one’s going to hurt you but him. 

As he rounds the corner of the diner there’s a piece of metal pipe propped up against the building by the dumpsters. Very nice. 

He goes after them. 

At the edge of the tree-line, under a swaying, low hanging branch, there is a tiny unfledged bird, helplessly twitching its way towards death in a puddle. He pauses to watch its struggle, gathers his skin about him, tightens his seams – prepares to gorge. He watches the inch by inch pilgrimage towards its last breath, then stillness. He feels so much older than his years, like he’s lived a thousand terrible years, watched a thousand terrible deaths. But there is a buoyancy about him, as well. Filled with a saccharine sweet fizz of sticky anticipation. He’s going to taste your cunt after this is done.

 He moves into the gloom. He’s going to kill them for you, and his cock is hard at the thought.

Stepping beneath the canopy of the trees, into that cold, damp darkness, he sees the absolute truth of the world. On the heels of two men who’d do you harm, he knows that he’d failed to save someone he cared about once, he’d not be bested by failure a second time. Darkness implacable, the crushing black vacuum of their overheard words buzzing in his head like flies, of the harm they’d do you. Two hunted animals moving away from a creature much darker than they could even imagine, scurrying on borrowed time. What most moves him is that the things they’d do to you are not so dissimilar to the things he plans to do to you, as well. The only difference being that after he’s done defiling you, he’ll keep you for himself, with all the care and gentleness a little thing like you so deserves. 

-

You press your ear to the cracked open door leading to the back of the building. It’s not the first time those two’ve talked their filth regarding you. The murdering is new, though. You’d not thought they were smart or inventive enough to come up with an actual kill plot. Rape enough of a hardball for minds as shallow and small as those two’ve got. 

You’d never really considered them much of a threat. Or maybe you’d just never really cared enough to pay them much attention. But as you watch the broad, rippling expanse of Joel’s muscled back stalk after them, his pause at the tree-line to look down at something on the ground, you think he must be more in the vein of taking a stupid man’s shit talk to heart than you’ve ever been. 

He has a thick, forearms-length of steel pipe gripped in his huge fist, and there’s a wicked looking knife strapped to his belt on the back of his hip. 

Interesting. 

You look back at the empty diner, the lonely parking lot beyond the glass of the windows, only Joel’s semi still taking up residence on the wet pavement. You turn back to follow after the three men. 

One you want, two you’re interested to see what fate awaits them.

For some reason, when you step outside, you’re expecting there to be snow on the ground, but there is none.  

You move across the pavement towards the forest-line, and the pilgrimage towards the verdant darkness feels very much like your one-way ticket out of this forlornness you’ve been trapped in your whole life. You’ve been stuck in this small town for so long, for too long. One man had already tried to forcibly evict you, had taken your entire family with him, maybe this one, maybe Joel, would do so in a way you’d more likely enjoy. 

There’s been a steady, faint drizzle all day long, and the puddles of rain look like holes in the dark pavement, apertures into some other realm that glide past underground. You wonder if you stepped through if you’d disappear below into some other place. You wonder if he’d be able to find you even in that unknown other. 

You cross the line into darkness. 

The familiar terror of silence – you don’t seem to find it here. There is only the sound of your rushing blood, the cadence of his voice rumbling through your psyche, firing your neurons up into a frenzy. There is a twisting heat low in your pelvis, dampness between your thighs. What’s he going to do? Why’s he going to do it?Is it for me? Is it for me? It’s for you.

You let out a low whistle between your teeth and move beyond the trees. There is a giddiness about the darkness of the wood – the motley of shadows, the aroma of mushroom rot. 

The familiar terror of silence. Perhaps, that is what they are experiencing now. The great horror of being set upon by a beast more terrifying than anything they could have ever conjured up on their own. 

That infinite tenderness from before, that acute madness – it coalesces in the gap in the trees as you come upon the three men. 

Joel has already started on the first. He murders almost tenderly. With great care, but infused with an aroma of agitated frenzy that seems flavored in the same notes of erotic buzzing that hums beneath your own skin. There is blood and viscera splattered on his face and clothes, in his hair. That great hunting knife embedded in the throat of the first man. The body lays facing you now, eyes open, shocked at his own death. Funny. Perhaps, that’s how they would have liked you to have ended up once they were through with you. 

Oh, how the tune changes when the monster is on your side. 

What are you? Be a creature. Be a creature. Be a creature!

You take Joel in. Thick, massive frame. You love his hair, it was one of the first things you’d noticed, thick dark curls streaked with the silver veins of his age and experience. Something that promised of care and knowledge and patience. His patchy beard with the heart shaped gap in it, you’re going to write your name into that space. His powerful arms, muscles coiled tight, his shirt stretched tight across his broad shoulders as he brings the steel pipe up above his head, pauses to look down at his next victim. 

“We won’t bother her anymore, never again – p– please, please, I swear,” the man on the ground begs and cries. There are tears and snot bubbling down his ruddy, pocketed face. 

Joel is silent and terrifying and glorious above him, and then a small nod: “That’s alright… I believe you.” The metal comes down in a whistling arc, makes contact. 

Flesh and blood splatter, the sound of it is pulpy and wet and vindicating. He starts with the man’s knees, then his head, caved in like the shell of an egg, the yolk spilling out like vermilion drool. 

He heaves silently above the man that would have done you harm. Makes the threat go away. 

You step forward, cunt pulsing and wet and eager for him. When he’s gotten his fill of bludgeoning he turns slowly back towards you, as if he’d known the entire time that you’d been stood there watching. 

And the look on his face, it makes something electrifying and sticky buzz up your spine and ooze down your veins. You shift back on your heels

He shakes his head, his eyes are huge, pupils blown wide. “Don’t run,” he says slowly. If you hadn’t just watched him murder two men in cold blood – no, in your defense, he saved you, he protected you, fizzy heart full of satisfaction – you’d say he almost looks a little doe eyed. 

A hollow pounding begins in his heart, as if it had remained silent for the past two years and was only now taking notice of its own silence. His cock, hard enough to burst, angry and throbbing beneath the confines of his blood soaked jeans. Fuck this scum laying on the ground beside him, look at what he has infront of him. Nothing else matters but you. A goddamned angel. Damned for he’s found you now and nothing good can come of this. He takes a step towards you, and you match him with one backwards, away from him, his blood starts to howl in his veins. Different to the humming frenzy that had filled him as he did his murdering. This is hot and viscous and ravenous, and he knows he’ll get to keep his catch once he’s gorged himself on it. He knows he’ll get to keep you once he’s caught you. 

You take two more nervous little, quick steps away from him. Your eyes are slightly manic, face flushed, frame jittery, excited. A rabbit that knows it’s about to be caught. He watches the pause of your limbs as they fill with coiled energy, getting ready to make the bound and leap towards escape. He lunges, goes in for the kill, teeth bared, talons  brandished. 

Faster than you can even comprehend, he lunges, takes you to the ground with one massive, powerful shoulder to the vulnerable, soft of your belly, one huge paw cradled at the back of your skull to protect you from the hard ground. Your spine hits the cold, wet earth, the breath knocked out of you. You think you let out an animal noise, high pitched and supplicant. A thing that knows it’s been caught and is soon to be devoured. Your limbs scramble against the dirt, heels digging into the ground for purchase, you feel the loss of one of your shoes, as you try to get away or to crawl closer, who can be sure. A spider caught in the web or a larger, hungrier arachnid. He sets the huge heaviness of his muscular weight over your much smaller frame, one strong hand caged around the column of your throat, the other pushing your chest into the earth as he shoves his hips into the cradle of your own, forcing your thighs apart and your skirt to pool at your waist. You feel the stretch of the center plaque of your tights as his wide breadth settles between your legs, making room to take you for himself. You bring your own hands up to the wrist holding your throat and dig your nails into the skin there. You can feel the light smattering of hair covering his forearm beneath your soft palms, the cold, wet dirt beneath you, the searing stretch of the inner muscles of your thighs spread wide for him, the damp of the air surrounding the two of you. He leans forwards, pressing you down into the ground, and you have the fleeting thought that you want to transfuse yourself into the earth, into him. 

He pauses then to look down at you, appreciating the gloriousness of his catch. “Caught ya.” And he’s filled with an exuberance, a sort of victory. Look at what he’s snared – all for himself. 

You try and struggle again, if only to see the flare of annoyance in his eyes. It makes your cunt tight and achy. Even more than it already is. There’s a part of you that thinks you want him slightly angry – rough or mean. That you might like it even more if it hurts. Be kind enough to be cruel about it, you want to beg him. He leans forward to press his nose to your cheek, drags the cold vermillioned flush of it along your jaw, down the line of your throat, bites harsh and painful at your collarbone then over the peak of your breast. 

“Are you a virgin?” He whispers into your skin. It sounds very much like a threat. 

“Yes.”

“Saved this cunt all for me.” And it is not a question. Yes, you moan anyways. Let him know. Let him know that this defiling is a gift you’re granting him. He sits up on his haunches between your thighs, his hands sliding down to press on your lower belly and digs his fingers into the center of your tights and pulls, ripping a hold in them for his pillaging. You try and press your knees shut at the feel of the frigid air on your sensitive inner thighs, dig your nails into the ground above your head to try and drag yourself away from him. 

He digs his own fingers harshly into your flesh, his nails biting painfully into the soft skin of your thighs and ass and brings you back towards him. There’ll be streaks of pain left in his wake after this. Bad little rabbit. He smacks the inside of your thigh, watches the smooth flesh ripple for him. You let out a warbled, angry screech, little nails still trying to claw yourself away from him. He laughs then, a little mean, condescending. “Fight harder, little baby. This is pretty pathetic.” He rips your thighs apart, keep your fuckin’ legs open for me, his hands slick with the blood of his victims slide up the back of your thighs, anchoring his palms beneath the damp creases of your knees to press you open and wide for him, slaps your cunt, hard, over the soaking gusset of your panties. 

“Who the fuck’re you wearin’ this tiny little thong for?” he growls. It’s white lace, with a sweet, little pink bow adorning the front. “Me? Wrapped yourself up all nice and pretty for me?” Your little foot sneaks up under his armpit and tries to push with, what he’s sure is all your valiant might, at his chest, trying to unseat him from his conquering position above you, but he takes your ankle in a vice like grip, bites harshly into the meat of your calf so that an animal squeal of pain is clawed out of your throat at the same time that he slots his fingers under the damp center of your panties. “Sing as loud as you want, sweetheart. No one’s gonna hear you out here.” He can feel the soaking wet seam of your cunt against the backs of his knuckles, and he rips them clean off you. The sound of the last remaining barrier of protection of your cunt against his ravaging being decimated has you going shock still – prey that knows it’s caught and has decided to give up. Good, this is how he wants you. Your big, wet eyes look up at him as he flings the lace towards the still steaming dead bodies. That’s all they’ll get of you. The rest is only his. Mine, mine, fucking mine. 

You let your arms go limp above your head, soft and pliant and ready for ravaging, melting into the earth.

He presses your knees back and up, letting the red blossom of your wet cunt bloom for him. It’s slick and swollen, and he knows when he shoves his cock inside it’ll be burning hot. “Look at this gorgeous virgin pussy, baby. All for me. Only for me…” he murmurs, hypnotized, mesmerized. He drags the back of his knuckles over your slit, uses his thumbs to spread your lips apart, admires the swollen nub of your clit. You’re just as hungry for him as he is for you. Messy, eager little whore. He moves to undo his belt and free his aching length. Huge and brutish, thick veins pulsing just beneath the thin skin. He’s going to split you in half, break you, mold you in his image. 

He spits right onto your soaked folds, watches the thick glob of saliva slide down to mingle with your own leaking slick. He’s not even going to make you come first. Little virgin cunt and he’s not going to even bother getting you ready – just gonna shove the whole, unforgiving length of himself inside of you. Force you to take it. He fists his thick fist around himself, jacks his cock once, twice, squeezing at the bulbous head so that a trickle of precum seeps out of the slit. He presses his head to your clit, slides down to give you a small threat of pressure at your opening. When he looks back up at your face your eyes flutter shut, a look of pure contented submission washing over the gorgeous planes of you. 

“Not gonna be gentle, baby. Don’t got it in me.” He notches the fat head at the slick mouth of your entrance and crams his cock inside of you in one go, meets that thin barrier that says you still belong to yourself and rips through it. Mine now. No reprieve, no respite. And God, the feel of it, cleaved in half, scorching hot, filled to the brim and never deep enough. He is a rabid, snarling beast of a man as he hits the very end of you, grinds his cockhead at the mouth of your womb. You let out a warbled, pained moan, little fingers coming up to claw at his throat and chest with kitten-strength, down to dig into his thick thighs as he pins you down, and you tilt your hips to let him in deeper or escape him, he doesn't know. He doesn't care. He pulls his hips back and forces himself back in, too thick cock wedged into the too tight space. “Christ, goddamn tight fuckin’ pussy – made for me,” he grits through bared teeth.

He fucks you raw and cruel, and he needs you to just lay limp and still and take it.

And you do. And he does not cry this time. 

He sets a brutal pace, throbs deep in your belly at every pause as he grinds at your cervix. It must be painful for you, perhaps, but the flush in your cheeks, the fever in your eyes, the ripple of your cunt around his driving length tells him you also like it. “What a good girl, taking my big cock,” he coos. You preen, tilt your hips this time in supplication he’s sure, hitch your feet higher along his sides. There are tears running back down your temples and into your hairline. His cock makes you cry. If he could, he’d split your throat and drink, he would. But he cannot, so he’ll split your cunt instead. He thrusts into the hilt, complete negligence for care, for gentleness lost in the dark wood, for the desperate necessity of feeling your virgins blood coating his cock. Your protestations lost to the louder song for more, for harder, for deeper

Joel, Joel, Joel. 

He’s going to listen to you sing his name for the rest of his life. 

He feels unhinged, a thread picked at too many times, spun loose, unraveled and frayed. That edge that separates good and evil – his bloody fingers clamp down hard on the edge of your jaw, forces you to open for him, and he spits into your mouth – direct, dirty … warm. “Lemme see…” he rumbles, and you stick your tongue out for his inspection. Once he nods, pleased and smug and conquering, you close and rub the slick of his saliva onto the roof of your mouth with your tongue, savor the taste of him. This was the taste that you’d longed for… that which teaches you what that professed edge really is. Is he good, is he evil – he’d just killed two men, you’d watched him, cunt wet at the sight of it. Albeit to protect you… sure – but does it even matter? You swallow his spit down. Probably not. 

He is huge and life altering inside of you. Your virginity scoured away on his invading length. 

He leans forward, hand clamped around your jaw to pierce you with his manic gaze, like his cock pierces your cunt. He smells like the forest and sweat and power. “Little fuckin’ tease,” he grits, “Bringing me cherry pie like that all the time – fuckin’ provoking me. You just wanted me to pop your cherry for you. Didn’t you, little girl?” All you can do is nod dumbly and take what he gives you. He hooks one of your knees over his elbow, the other propped over his shoulder, foot bobbing limply at each slam of his hips. He has you bent entirely in half, cunt splayed wide open for him to fuck down into the deep, devastating end of you. Your vision goes blurry, black stars streaking across the back of your eyelids. All you see is him. Perhaps he’s all that exists now. Maybe you’re just as dead as the two bodies laying beside the two of you. You wonder peripherally what the sight of the four of you must look like. Joel’s hulking form fucking you like an animal into the dirt. You open your eyes to look up at him, there’s blood splatter across his face, in his hair. His skin is burning hot against yours. You think that perhaps you’ll have scorch marks in the shape of his fingers in your skin after he’s done with you. Two dead, brutalized bodies cooling beside the place where the two of you are fucking. 

“Can feel ya tightening up, baby. Gonna come all over my cock.”

He does something to change the angle, and it fucking hurts. “Too much,” you beg, try to push him back weakly, but your cunt pulls sharp and tight, and then your muscles are rippling around him, womb contracting painfully as your orgasms blinds you with its sudden intensity. 

“Don’t care,” he growls back. “Do not fucking push me away.” No, he must not care. Prey doesn’t decide how it’s felled, after all. 

He pulls out and back then, suddenly, slaps your cunt harshly, once, twice. You mewl, high and shocked, writhing around in the dirt. He grabs you by the hips and flips you so fast you’re left disoriented, pulling your ass up, up, up. 

“Fuck, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he croons, bends to bite down on the meat of your asscheek, and then notches back at your gaping, fluttering hole, orgasm still running through you, and pushes back in. You’re soaking wet, slick and fucked open by him and the taking is much easier this time. You feel his thumb press down on your asshole, “Gonna take this too. Gonna have every part of you, every piece. Gonna swallow you whole.” All you do is arch your back further, cheek smushed into the dirt, fingers digging into the cool earth for purchase, for salvation.

The sight of you stretched around his thick base, so slick he feels you dripping down his balls and further below, into the bloody earth. There’s a red tinge of your own blood coating his skin, and he’s going to come. He’s going to fill you up with his spend and fuck it deep into you until it takes. Until no matter how far you want to run, he’ll be with you, always. He lets his head fall back on his neck and stares up at the dark canopy of the trees, groans low and deep.“You’re gonna be my little hole now,” he promises, presses one large palm into the small of your back to deepen the angle and fuck down into you. “Gonna take you with me and fill you up whenever I feel like it. My gorgeous little cumslut.” The ramming of his hips starts to grow sloppy and stuttered, close to the edge now. Victory is so, so near. 

You start to claw at the dirt and wiggle again. Little knees chafed raw and scrambling against the hard ground trying to get away. He slaps your ass hard, hopes there’ll be the print of his hand to appreciate later. 

“Not inside, not inside – not – no birth control,” you stutter, beg.

“I’m not fuckin’ pulling out.” He twists a cruel and unyielding hand into the back of your hair and presses your face harshly into the ground. Your eyes pinch and tears seep and mingle into the blood and dirt beneath you. “Gonna pump you raw and full. You don’t gotta worry about anythin’ anymore, baby. Gonna take care of you,” he grits and you press yourself harder back into him. There is an existential seesaw inside of you – a volleying of your wants – you want him to hurt you, to force you, to take care of you and keep you, all at the same time.

“Promise – promise me you won’t leave me,” you cry and beg because really, that’s all you want. All you’ve ever wanted. For someone to stay, for someone to never leave, no matter what.

“I promise – fuckin’ swear.” And you go loose and passive again at that – his to do with as he will. Nothing else really matters after all that.

He senses the change. The loosening of your muscles into capitulation. He stops his thrusting and grinds, strums at your clit. “Oh fuck, you want me to fill you up? And what happens if I do? What happens if it takes? Want me to get you fuckin’ pregnant?” Starts to fuck into you again, “I think you do.”

Don’t care, don’t care, don’t care.

“You’re mine. Fucking mine.” He says it again and again and again, yes, yes, yes, lets himself fall forward, anchored above you with one strong arm as he presses as deep as he can physically go and starts to fill your pulsing cunt with his come, the heat of his spend inciting you to roll into one more throbbing orgasm. He brings his face down close to yours, open your eyes, little thing, lemme see you. The fluttering of your lashes, sweaty, dirt-streaked face, and you are seraphic, the wet crimson heat of your blood pounding beneath the delicate membrane of your skin. Gorgeous, perfect, conquered and his. 

“Fucked full’a me now,” he whispers, presses a soft kiss to the tender skin of your eyelid. You nuzzle into him, and then look up at him with the warmest, most vibrant gaze he’s ever seen. Fucking pleased and sated. 

“They wanted me, but only you get to have me now,” you whisper. “How does that make you feel?” Provoking, provoking again. 

“Like I fucking own you.” He grinds his still spitting cock further, feels the pull of your muscles milk him deeper. 

He lets his weight fall partially over you, too heavy for the full mass of himself. You are, after all, a delicate thing, and he must remember to handle you with care, occasionally. He feels the pulsing and quivering of your cunt around his softening cock, and the two of you settle to lay there in the dirt, bodies still dead, virginity scoured and stolen, and stare at each other. 

“Have you ever been in love?” you whisper, dragging the tip of one little finger, whisper soft, over the arch of his brow, the slope of his nose.

“I feel a little in love with ya right now,” he confesses, and you press that finger against the seam of his mouth, begging for entrance, and then inside, against the flat of his tongue to inspect the wet gleam of it. It’ll be inside of you soon enough, you should take a look at that which you’ll be writhing against in due time. 

“Good. That was my plan all along.” Smug, conniving little creature. 

-

Once it’s full dark, he packs you into his truck, buckles your seatbelt for you, tucks a blanket around your dirty knees and drives off as if he hadn’t just murdered two men and taken your virginity with their blood still hot on his skin. He goes for miles and miles, eventually finds a dark, secluded spot to park the truck for the night. He takes you into the back bunk and fucks you like you’d wanted him to, on your side, one leg slung over his shoulder, hand gripping the lush of your ass to pull you onto his impaling cock, watches your ass bounce against his thrusts. A demanded play with it, lemme see ya push it back in, as he watches himself drip out of your messy hole. Eats your cunt until you cry. Afterwards, the two of you lay, naked and damp, facing each other, tracing the lines of one another in the quiet dark. 

Sometimes he’s worried he’s blood hungry – or pain hungry. Starving for something he doesn’t have a name for. But he thinks that, perhaps, he can use your name to fill in the blank space now. He’d always felt as if his devotion was a punishment to the receiver. After all, everyone Joel has ever loved has left him. But as he looks at you, there’s something in your eyes that tells him that perhaps, you’ll remain. Perhaps, he can compel you to, force you to. Perhaps, he can anchor you to himself, and in turn, give you everything. 

“Are you a ghost?” he asks.

“No. Are you?”

“Sometimes I think I am.”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re like a fuckin’ angel or somethin’. What were you doin’ out here in this wasteland?” He asks you again.

“Maybe I was waiting for you.” This answer he likes.

He’s quiet for a long time after that – taking you in, cataloging you, memorizing you. His fingers ghosting over your face, your hair, strumming the fan of your lashes. Later he asks: How do you remember the memory of someone else? How do you keep them when they’ve gone somewhere entirely unreachable?

“Because you love them,” you tell him.

“That’s enough?”

“Of course. Will you ever forget that you loved her?”

“Never.”

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

[watsittoyah]

The Devil's Playpen

A Obsessive!QIMIR X BLACK!FEMALE OC STAR WARS SMUT FIC

This is complete fiction, I do not own any characters of the star wars franchise however I own all characters of my own creation, as well as plot.

That being said, the themes will be dark, Qimir will have obsessive and possessive qualities. This story will be borderline grey morals, there will be trigger warnings in the beginning of every chapter that will be gruesome/sexual.

You’ve been warned little flower if you’d like to continue, please read forward, if not put this work of fiction down and go read the holy word…welcome to the Devils playpen…

Chapter 2) Fear Is Only A Four Letter Word

(Song: All Mine By Plaza)

Warning: Mutual masturbation, Mentions of suicide, Rough oral sex (male receiving), Self pleasure, back door eating (HE EATING GOOD TONIGHT LADIES!)

Previous

I can feel my mothers tears on my face as she hugs me.

“Mother I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-” I smell her burning flesh instantly and I want to vomit. When her now lifeless body falls against me, I see the figure who took her from me.

The figure was always Zen, but this time it’s…

“Qimir.” I wake up with a jolt and I’m no longer tied up in ropes. Instead I’m in a bed under a soft quilt.

I mentally curse my body because that means Qimir had to had touch me to get me into this bed.

A missed kill opportunity.

I go to get up, but I pause because I feel eyes on me.

I think fast about a weapon and he must’ve known what I was thinking because he says something that makes my skin crawl.

“You know looking for weapons won’t help you. I can always take it from you.” I cut my eyes at him. “So you want to come close to me or should I just come to you? Because the moment I get a weapon I’m going to-” He raises his hand to me and I become lifted in the air.

My throat is now in his hand and he looks me deep into my eyes. “Such a deadly little flower.” I can’t move. I can barely move my fingers and toes.

Of course he’s a force user.

“I hate you.” I hiss at him. “You hate me now, but you’ll learn to think otherwise, little flower…you know you talk in your sleep. Did your mother-”

“DON’T TALK ABOUT HER! SHUT UP!” I scream as I try to force my body to move. He looks at me with a smile crawling across his lips.

“You see you have this…” He squeezes my throat tighter, cutting off my air a bit. “…look in your eyes. It says you want to murder me. But that’s going to be difficult since I have the upper hand here.”

I start to feel my left side and before he can notice I bring my hand up and rake my nails across his face. He drops me instantly and I take a deep breathe.

I then take off running.

I’ll kill him and then I’ll get out of here.

First I need to find an exit, then maybe I can lure him out and then handle him.

I take a left and I can smell him not too far behind me.

He’s fucking gaining on me.

I take a right and halt around a corner. I press myself firmly against the wall and listen out for him. “You can’t run far, Akasha. I won’t let you leave this place. You’re not leaving me….” I heard him say as he stalks down the hall looking for me.

Once the coast is clear I take off down the hall in the opposite direction. I feel cold air drifting in from a room so I run inside and I see the light from outside.

I run faster and just when I feel like I have my freedom…

…I see that we’re on a high cliff.

I stop short and I see nothing but rocks and water as far as I could see. My legs give up from under me and I fall to my knees. I don’t even care that they’ll bruise.

I…I can’t stay here. I need to escape, I need to get my freedom back.

Before I know it, I’m walking down the halls, thinking about what I can do. How I can get off this fucking island.

How do I get this crazy son of a bitch to let me go?

You play the role he wants, tell him all he needs to hear and when the coast is clear, find a safe exit and slit his throat from ear to ear.

I smile to myself as I walk back to the bedroom and I make sure I play my roll well.

Don’t give in too easily, he will be suspicious. Be the cat in this mouse trap, Akasha.

I kneel in the middle of the room with my eyes closed listening for his panicked footsteps. His scent makes it to me before his presence does. I then hear him enter the room and I remain still.

“Look at my little flower, rooted where she belongs.” He says standing in front of me. I open my eyes and look at him, pretending I’m bored.

“Oh, you’re back?” He narrows his eyes at me and he grabs me by my upper arm. “Ouch!” I fake to him. He seems to like my plea because he squeezes harder. “I need to show you something. But you need to promise me you won’t try to run off again. Because if you do, I will leave you with a permanent scar on this intoxicating body of yours.” He says as he drags me off.

I give just enough resistance to make him think I’m going to fight him, but I follow along side him.

••••

Once we’re outside, I take in my surroundings and Qimir’s grip on my arm loosens but only by a fraction. “I am going to teach you how to concur your fear. But first you must address it.”

He lets me go and while he keeps his eyes on me, he goes into a bag that was outside and he pulls out a different light saber. I take a step back from him and he stands in front of me.

He points the handle my direction, motioning me to take it. But I don’t move a muscle. “Akasha, take it.” I shake my head. “No.” I tell him, not looking away from the light saber.

Suddenly I’m back into the bad place. I’m watching as the Jedi slaughter everyone and I’m trying my best to help mother escape.

Children’s lives were being snuffed out. Men are being brought to their knees. The few women we had left…all begging for mercy.

And what breaks my people apart is the slash and stabs of light sabers brought on by monsters who say they are the good guys.

When I blink, I’m not there. I have to remind myself that I am in the present and that I can’t get hurt. I live on for my people. I live on so I can get revenge for them.

Qimir, takes the Saber and puts it in my hand but I jerk away and snatch my hands back. “No! What are you trying to prove? I’m weak because of this stupid weapon? You win!” I yell at him.

“No, I’m showing you that you’re stronger than your demons. This fear? It hold you back from your full potential. Now take it!” He thrusts the saber into my hands and in an angered rush I snap on him.

I point the saber to his chest, in hopes that it will light up and kill him. But when I see his eyes soften, I get frustrated. I can’t help but go to hit him with my bare hands. He moves quick as he sees what I’m about to do.

He keeps my hands on the saber handle and he looks me in my eyes, with sadness.

I want to scratch his eyes out, how dare he look at me like that?

“Do you feel that, Akasha?” He squeezes my hands tightly and I want to scream. I want to throw a tantrum. He’s looking at me with pity. I’ll show him pity.

“Below the surface of consciousness are powerful emotions. Anger…fear, loss…desire.” When he says desire he looks down at my lips and then back up into my eyes. “T…that’s the path to the dark side.” I tell him, smelling his want and need.

Don’t lost focus, keep the anger. Keep the hate and make sure you attack. I tell myself.

He’s pitying you.

Don’t let him win.

“Semantics.” He says in a whisper. “What do you desire in this very moment, Akasha? Revenge for your people? Taking my life? Or deep down you have the desire to unlock your potential, in a way that I know is a guarantee?”

He flicks the saber from my grasp and it clatters to the ground.

His arousal is unmistakable as it’s starting to suffocate me.

The urge to bite him is strong.

I look away from his eyes and I stare at his lips, his tongue emerges and licks. I remember those lips suckling my clit, I remember his tongue worshiping my pussy.

My thighs clench with desire and I try to pull away but he pins me still with his hungered stare. He leans in close to my ear and he rubs his nose against my skin.

“I can smell how wet you are, Akasha. My desire, in this very moment is to bury my face between those delicious thick thighs of your and partake of that sweet pussy just like I did yesterday. Will you let me do that? Will you let me taste you again?”

A chill runs down my spine as I feel his cock pressed against my stomach. I choke back a moan as my clit throbs.

I want him to touch me.

Taste me.

I want him to lick me till my juices drip down his handsome face.

He flicks his tongue against my earlobe and I let out a small gasp. “Come with me, you haven’t bathed since yesterday and I’m sure you’d like that.” I’d like to sit on this man’s face, but before I could protest he tugs me along by my hands and makes me follow him.

We get to a calm little pond and he lets my hands go and starts walking towards the water.

I watch him pull off his shirt and on his back, I see an ugly scar. It practically took over seventy-five percent of his back. Curiosity bites and I want to know how he got it.

He looks back at me and his eyes travel up and down my body. “Aren’t you going to join me?”

That question, stalls all of my logical thinking and I start pulling off articles of clothing and I follow him into the water.

We’re both completely naked and the cool feeling of the water on my skin feels good to my tense muscles. I watch as he dunks his entire body into the water and I watch for him to break the surface.

Instead I feel his hands on my body and I almost jerk away from surprise, but I still my movements. “You have such pretty brown skin, little flower.” Qimir says as he holds me from behind.

He dips his head low and I feel his teeth graze against my neck. I feel his very erect cock brushing against my lower back and I bite my bottom lip as I reach around and grab a hold of him. He lets out a hiss as I stroke him slowly.

“Is this part of my training, Master?” I feel his muscles tense as I call him that and I know it pleases him by the way he leaves kisses against my neck.

“It’s definitely part of your training. Though I should punish you for running away from me.”

“But I did come back.” I challenge as I rub my thumb against the head of his cock. I hear a groan in his throat and I feel my clit throb. “You did come back to me, like a good girl. So I guess I can reward you a little and make this a lesson at the same time.”

He then cups my breasts and I let out a moan as he rolls my nipples between his fingers. I lean my head back against his chest and he takes the opportunity and sucks my neck. I feel a slight pinch and I know he’s left a mark. “You know one of the many reasons why I chose to keep you, little flower is because you’ve suffered loss. And you’re free from so many things…”

He pulls me back gently towards a large rock in the water and I follow. The water is now only covering up to his lower thigh and my higher thighs. He then leans me against the rock and cages me in with his arms.

I look from his eyes and down to his bare chest. My split tongue makes an appearance which causes him to suck in his breath. My eyes go further down and they widen.

I know what I was touching in the water but holy mother of Venus he’s huge. I look away but he stops me by holding me by my chin. “You were just touching it seconds ago, don’t be afraid of it now…this will be your reward amongst other things, little flower.” He guides my hand down to his hard cock and when I grip it he bites his bottom lip.

“I know I don’t need to teach you on how to pleasure someone, but I want to see how you pleasure yourself, show me what you do on those lonely nights.”

It’s like I’m under his spell, because I then guide my own hand down to my pussy. I rub my lips together and my eyes flutter closed. “No, no, no. I want to watch those pretty grey eyes while you pleasure the both of us.” He growls as he guides my hand up and down on his thick cock.

My eyes open wide when I see him hike up my legs so that I’m in front of him but spread more apart. As I pleasure myself I stroke him with a more firm grasp. “Just like that. Stroke me as if I’m inside of that pretty pussy of yours.” He moans as he watches my fingers rub my clit. I was watching myself stroke him and I see the bead of precum ball at the tip. I had the urge to use my tongues to lick it up and twirl it around the head.

When we both look up at each other he presses his full lips against mine and it gave me a chill. Because it felt like we were meant to kiss…to touch…to be intimate.

I’m as crazy as he is.

I twirl my tongues against his and he rocks his hips faster, as he stokes himself in my hand. I stop focusing on myself and I just use both of my hands to stoke him while rubbing the head against my pulsating clit.

He sucks my tongues and bites my bottom lip. I hear a suck when he releases my lips and I know they’re swollen from the assault.

Qimir’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels the tip slide inside of me. I start to go further but he stops me. “No, you ran from me earlier. You don’t get to feel my cock inside of you just yet. But don’t worry, I’ll let you cum this time. Now make yourself cum with just the tip of my cock. I want your juices dripping against this rock.” He holds my legs further apart and I let out a moan with some gibberish of my native tongue from the added pleasure.

I stroke him against my clit and I bite my lips, moaning, and internally wanting him inside of me. “Master…please just let me slide it in. I want your cock inside of my pussy. I want to make you feel good too.”

He allows only the head to go in again and then he stops. “If you hadn’t ran, Akasha I’d be balls deep inside of you. But you have to learn the consequences of your actions. Now let me watch you cum with just the tip.” He groans as he leans in and bites the same spot he had earlier on my neck.

“Fuck…” I moan as I stroke him faster between my pussy lips. “Mmm, that colorful language. I really like when you use your words to let me know you’re enjoying yourself….I might not have my cock inside of you right now. But it will be inside of you soon.” He licks my bottom lip and I rock my hips now, just to feel more friction.

I move my face and moan that I’m gonna come soon, which only makes him stoke against me faster. “Cum on the head of this cock, little flower. I need to watch you cum.” He moans against my open mouth.

I groan and whimper as I feel my lips clutch on the head of his cock. I stop and feel my juices drip down my lips and onto the shaft of his cock.

I try to catch my breath but he doesn’t give me a second of rest. He moves me up on the rock and flips me over so that my stomach was lying on the cold hard rock.

“Now I get my release.” The snakes in my stomach were tumbling and toiling around as I wait with anticipation of him, fucking me from behind. But instead I feel him move me to my knees and I feel his tongue lap up at my already sensitive clit.

“Ah…t…too much, master.” I moan as I claw at the rock. He gives a firm slap to my ass, before he parts it. “You can take it. I know you can.” He assaults me with his tongue on my clit and my back arches as I squirm trying to get away.

“There you go, running again. Now stay still.” He gives a firm order and my body, does what it’s told.

He slides his tongue inside of me and I feel his nose graze the bud of my ass, which causes me to groan in pleasure.

This bastard is going to ruin me before I can even slit his throat.

I move my hips but he slaps my parted ass, more firmly. “Don’t…move.” He says between licks. I let out a moan in response and feel him slurp and suck my lips.

Just when I think he’s about to let up, he grips my ass and he licks from the tip of my clit all the way to the bud of my ass.

The noise coming from my throat sounded animalistic.

He slips his tongue in and I look back at him. He had his eyes shut but I can tell he was in utter bliss. I feel his fingers stroking my inner walls and I jerk close to an orgasm.

If my nails could dig deeper into the rock I’m sure I would’ve broke chunks of it off.

“Master, Massssster I’m gonna come. I’m gonna-” He spits and slurps it up and I lose it.

I feel myself squirm and squirt all at the same time.

I don’t care that he said don’t move. I move my hips and I rub my ass and pussy in his face so I can ride out the orgasm.

He then holds me firmly still and he gives a hard suck to my aching clit. I jerk one more time and in an embarrassing motion, I hit my head on the rock and I pass out…

••••

I wake up to the smell of something in the air and I’m back in the bed when I open my eyes. The gears in my head start to spin when I realize, Qimir is either sleeping on some floor or chair. Or he’s sleeping in the very bed I’m in.

I quickly get out of the bed and I see I’m wearing one of his t-shirts. It comes just past my knees and yet I still feel exposed. I follow the smell and find him shirtless in what looks like a kitchen.

I look at the scar on his back and the curiosity comes back to my mind. How did he get that scar?

Who hurt him?

For a split second I feel anger in my stomach knowing someone had hurt him.

No, stop.

I don’t care that someone had hurt him. Right, I don’t care.

Yet, I walk a bit further and I reach out, letting my finger tips brush against him. His body tenses and when he turns, I see something menacing in his eyes. I snatch my hand back and he quickly switches.

“Someone’s finally awake. Are you hungry?” Before I can protest, my stomach gives me away. He gives a smirk at the sound motions for me to sit at the table. I hesitate slightly and he stares me down. “Akasha, sit.” He says in a gentle yet steady voice.

I go sit down and he brings over to me, a bowl of some sort of broth. I look at it questioning if I should eat it.

“It’s not poison, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Qimir says as he pulls up a chair. “Are you sure?”

“If I wanted to kill you, it would’ve been when I had you in the alleyway.” Fair point.

I stir the broth with the spoon provided and I bring it to my lips. I sniff the air and the broth doesn’t have any off odors. But you can mask a poison with other ingredients.

I bring the spoon to my lips and from the corner of my eye I see him, watching me. Waiting for me to taste. I let the liquid hit my tongues and I glance at him.

“It’s good.” I tell him as I take another spoon fool. The broth had chunks of meat in it as well as some grains.

He seems to relax after watching me eat and he begins to eat his meal as well.

We eat in silence for a while. The only sound you hear is just spoons scraping bowls and slurping from lips.

I glance at Qimir and I see him licking his spoon and lips. My brain stutters as I remember what those lips and tongue has done to me in the last twenty-four hours and the broth goes down the wrong way.

I choke on the broth and he gets up to help me. But I jerk away from him and I fall out my chair. I manage to choke down the broth and he was crouched down in front of me.

“Even after the intimate moments we had, and you’re still not willing to let me touch you.” He says with a hint of hurt in his voice. “I don’t trust you, Quimir. Is that even your real name?”

He nods and clenched his jaw. “You don’t trust me yet hours ago you trusted me enough to have my face buried in placed on your body intimately. This flower just gets more and more interesting. And as far as my name, I chose it so it’s my name.”

He cocks his head to the side as he stares at my neck. He gives a smirk and I raise my hands to the tender spot. “That mark I left…there’s no mistake that you belong to me. But I’m sure you’ll learn when I leave more marks on you.” He stands up and offers his hand to me but I ignore it and stand on my own.

I walk past him and sit down at the table, no longer hungry. Just feeling licked with anger.

“If you’re done eating then let’s get started on your first lesson. The lesson at hand is admitting your fear.” I feel as if ice cold water was poured over me and I feel exposed.

My eyes look around before anything else and I see he has a saber in his hand. I go to get up but he stops me with a look. “Sit still and don’t you fucking move.”

I don’t even look at him. My eyes on trained on the saber. “Why are you afraid of an object that has no power unless wielded? Why does fear have you by the throat like this, Akasha?”

Qimir walks around the table towards me but again I only stare at the saber. “If you want to kill me with the saber. Just do it. Stop taunting me.” I finally look up at him and he was gazing at me.

“The fight in your eyes lets me know you’re not hopeless. Now why are you afraid or a light saber? Did a Jedi do something to you?” I stare him, unanswering. “Your people?” My eye twitches and he gives a chuckle.

“Genocide is funny to you?” I narrow my eyes accusing him. “No, what’s funny is your anger gives you away. Clearly the Jedi have wronged you but they left such a deep scar on your life that fear has you by a choke hold. I want to help you break that fear.”

“Why? Why is this important to you?”

“Because, what I desire is a partner of equal standing. And I’ve looked for many years. You…you have the potential. But this fear is holding you back and I want to help. Will you let me?” He asks as he towers over me.

I swallow hard and I look down at the saber. “How can you help me? How can you help me heal these scars?” He lifts my chin so that I’m looking up at him. “Not heal them, embrace those scars. Come with me.” He tugs me up from my seat and he leads me to another room.

When we get to this room, I notice the walls have many scratch marks all over them. Qimir stops which makes me do the same as well. “You seem to fear the saber because you see it as a reminder of the terrible events in your life. But instead of freezing with fear, you should concentrate on using that fear to paralyze your enemies.”

I watch as he walks over to a metal box. My first thought is that he’s going to grab another saber, but instead he takes out a metal helmet. It looked homemade and had a creepy smile adoring it. “This is made of Cortosis. It destabilizes light sabers and…it’s also a device they would use on younglings.”

My eyes cut to him. “You were a Jedi?” He nods and I bare my teeth at him. “I knew something was wrong with you! You’re like them! You’re a murderer! Just like them!” I yell as I back away from him. He raises his hand and I get yanked over to him.

“I was a Jedi, and as far as a murderer, I only killed the people who wronged me. I was never on your planet when the erasing happened. I…am what they call, a Sith. I’m telling you all of this because I need you to trust me in order for this training to be a success, Akasha.”

He hands me the helmet and it has some weight to it.

I could smash him across his face, hit him over and over until his skull is caved in and I could be rid of him. But I can’t do that. I don’t even have a way off this island…which means he had to had brought me here on a ship.

But where is the ship?

“What do you want me to do with this? Eat it?” I ask in a sarcastic manner. He rolls his eyes at me and clears his throat. “Put it on, you need to refocus your mind and let yourself be one with the force.” I give him a scowl. “But I’m not force sensitive.”

He shakes his head. “Yes you are, Akasha. I had you under my control earlier but you had managed to get out of my hold. You were most likely force sensitive as a child but no one trained you. Now put the helmet on.”

“After I do, what will you do to me?” I ask as I look down at the frozen smiling face. “I won’t do anything that you won’t like. I promise.” I don’t trust him, but in order to get my way I need to play along. So I put the helmet on and it’s a bit claustrophobic. All I can really hear is my own breathing. “What now…Master?”

I can feel him behind me. Holding my hips in place as he presses his front to my back. “Now close your eyes. Your eyes can deceive you. You must not trust them. Breathe….connect with the force, Akasha. Think of those moments where you’ve had peace. Grasp those moments and use that to connect you.”

A thought bubbles up in my head. A thought I haven’t had since I was a little girl. It was the day my mother had gave me my youth marks.

I remember the day. I was both excited and anxious. I had asked the great grandmother about how the process is done. And she told me that I was suppose to drink a warm liquid that would have me in a limbo state, and then the great grandmother would take red ink, a poking stick and a stone and give me my youth marks.

I still remember my mother holding my hand when the first poke pierced my skin. I winced in pain and my mother said, I must be strong like our people. I need to be brave like my father and cunning like my ancestors.

“Look at you…” I hear Qimir’s voice and that’s when the memory fades. When I come back to the present, I see that I’m holding the saber, but not only that, everything in the room is floating in the air.

I gasp and that’s when everything falls to the floor. I toss the saber down and I take the helmet off. “What are you doing? You were doing amazing, Akasha.”

“I feel sic-” I feel a slight pound to my head and I drop down. But before I can fall completely, Qimir scoops me up in his arms. “Sorry there little flower, I should’ve warned you that you’d feel a bit nauseous after your first time. But you made me proud. Which means you get rewarded greatly.” He leans down and he kisses my temple. He carried me in his outs and walks out of the room, I look back at the saber and helmet and feel…a warm sensation.

Is it because I don’t feel well?

Because he said he was proud of me?

Or because I was able to tap into the force?

Yeah, I don’t feel well. I’ll go with that logic.

••••

After much rest and odd dreams about the force, I was woken up feeling this empty feeling in my gut. I haven’t felt that in a long time.

I crawl out of bed and feel that the side next to me was cold.

Where is he?

I feel my bare feet patting against the cold floor and I hear drilling. I follow the sound and when I find where it’s coming from I see Qimir drilling something onto the helmet.

He senses me because he stops and looks over at me. “Did I wake you?” He asks as he sets his drill down. “No, I was just wondering what you were doing since you weren’t lying next to me.”

He looks down at my bare thighs and the back at me. “I couldn’t sleep, and even if I could, I wouldn’t sleep in the same room as you…you’re too much of a distraction.”

“So where do you sleep? If not in the bed with me?” I ask out of pure curiosity. He looks around and then back at me.

“In here. I have a cot in the corner.” He motions with his chin and I look over to see the cot. It looks uncomfortable and old.

I make a face.

“That can’t be good for your back.” I look back at him and he’s just staring at me like he wants to eat me…out.

“Careful little flower, you sound like you care about me.” I roll my eyes and cross my arms, which causes my chest to push up. His eyes, go right to there and I feel…hot.

“I’m just saying, that can’t be good for your back…speaking of that. How did you get that scar?”

The moment I mention the scar he seems to give off a dark murderous aura. Even I take a small step back.

“…My…Master, gave this to me after she threw me away.” His jaw was clench but I see it in his eyes. The anger and hurt. “So she stabbed you in the back.” I say remembering how big and ugly the scar looks.

I get a slight irritation in my chest hearing that a woman had hurt him.

“Among other things. Yes.” He then goes silent and the room just seems suffocating. So I speak.

“These…scars.” I touch my face and give a sad smile. “Are my youth scars as well as my warrior scars. They were painful, but I adore them.”

“Are you saying I should adore this scar on my back?” He snaps at me. “No, I’m saying my scars have a story. And so does yours. I have plenty of scars you haven’t seen that shows I’ve tried to take my own life….” I pull down the shirt and point to the faint scar on my neck.

“When my people were slaughtered and I was left. I got scared. I got scared and lonely and I remember…I grabbed a chair. I grabbed a chair and I grabbed my old baby blanket. I had cut it up finely and I just kept tying the pieces together until the knots were tight enough. I remember praying to whatever god or entity out there that I could join my people after taking my life. And when I kicked the chair from under me-”

Qimir was up in an instant. I flinch thinking he was going to hit me but instead he pulls me into a hug. “Stop-stop talking about that memory. When you talk about it, you look helpless and that makes my chest hurt, because I can’t stop that for you. I can’t protect you.” He looks down at me and he looks at my neck. He leans down and he kisses the faint scar.

“Don’t ever do this again. I’ll lose my mind if you took yourself away from this planet…from this time period…from me.” He embraces me again, and I feel…warm.

This feeling is foreign to me and I don’t want it to stop. But I can’t allow him to get to me. I can’t allow him to win.

I shrug him off and back up a bit. “What are you working on?” I ask, just to change the subject. He looks back over towards the helmet.

“I’m just adding some new additions to the helmet. It’ll help when you’re wearing it and keep the force in you stable.”

He’s thinking about me.

He’s considering how I felt sick after using the force in that magnitude.

This, this is too much. I need to leave this room or something. I feel like I’m suffocating.

“Oh! I’m…I’m just gonna go back to bed. Sorry to bother you.” I go to leave but he keeps me still by getting a grip of my shirt. “You’re never a bother to me, Akasha. Actually, how are you feeling? I meant to ask you that.”

He gently pulls me closer to him and I swallow hard because he’s giving me a look that tells me, I’m going to be on my back with my legs spread wide open.

“I’m fine. I got plenty of sleep so, I’m fine now.” He looks at my lips and then he trails his thumb against my bottom lip. “So, if you’re fine and you had plenty of sleep, then why do you need to get back to bed?”

“I…uh.”

He walks forward which makes me walk backwards. Until my legs bump against something cool.

My hand touches it and it feels smooth to the touch, like metal or a mirror.

“Little flower, you aren’t trying to avoid me are you?” I shake my head. “No, I figured you didn’t want a distraction so I would just leave you alone.”

“It’s too late for that now isn’t it. You come in here, with this shirt on and your thighs out for display. Imagine if we had company. I’d have to kill them for looking at you. For looking at what’s mine.” He leans me against the metal like wall and he brushes his lips against my neck. This time with lust behind it.

“A…are you sure you don’t want to finish up on the helmet?” I ask, knowing he sure as fuck doesn’t want to do that.

“Why would I do that, when I have a delicious snack in front of me? I think I deserve a break, and I do recall saying I’d give you a reward…”

To watch this man get on his knees and push my legs apart, should be illegal. But he does just that and he lifts my left leg and place it on his shoulders. He looks up at me and while we keep eye contact, he bites and sucks my inner thigh, causing me to hiss in pleasure.

“Now I’ll leave marks that no one but you and I can see.” He says as he trails his tongue against the now bruised mark.

“Lean against the wall for balance, little flower.” I do as I’m told and he hikes me up so that both of my legs are on his shoulders.

I hear him lick and my hands go to his hair. I throw my head back against the mirror, I buck my hips as I feel his tongue does circles around my clit.

His hand then reaches under the shirt I’m wearing and he gets a hold of my right breast. My nipples feel as hard as rocks as I feel him pinch one.

“Qimir…Master, please don’t stop…” I moan out as rock my hips and rub my pussy deep in his face.

I hear him slurp and lap up my pussy and when I finally look down, he was flicking his tongue quickly up and down my slit.

“Mmmm, you’re…such a lovely distraction. Especially with this fucking sweet little pussy. I feel him insert two fingers inside of me and when he does a come here motion, I start stuttering like a madwoman.

He continues to do the come here motion as well as sucking and licking my clit and I quickly without warning cream on his face.

I watch his eyes roll back as he deeply licks me out. I was practically gripping his hair when I came and when I finally catch my breathe, I let go and he has beautiful just fucked hair.

Has be always been this…pretty?

He kisses my left then right inner thigh and then he kisses my pussy lips before letting me down on wobbly legs.

As he stands up, I see the erection he has poking in his pants. I lean in without thinking and I stand on tippy toe, kissing him, tasting myself on his tongue and I twirl with his.

He pulls back but only after I bite and pull his bottom lip. “Mmm where are my manners. A lady as tired as you are shouldn’t be on their feet like this. I think you should rest off of those pretty feet and kneel for me.” He says as I see him rubbing his cock in his pants.

I lower myself on my knees, but he stops me and moves so I mirror him. I look up at him and he leans down and rubs this thumb on my bottom lip. I open my mouth and I suck his thumb, causing a groan to come from him.

“You are so beautiful, Akasha. Such beauty as yours, would make anyone do whatever to make you happy. I would kill for you if it put a smile on your face. I would break someone’s neck for you, it it meant I could have you look at me like this all the time. I’d slit their throat for you. I would cut them open and offer their heart to you just to show you how dedicated I am for your happiness.”

My stomach flutters hearing him say that and I watched as he pulls his pants down. I bite my bottom lip looking at his cock and he strokes it while looking at me.

“You know from the moment I met you, and seen your tongues, I’ve wanted my cock in your mouth. I want to know how that feels, little flower. Can you do that for me? Show me what those pretty tongues can do.” He steps out of his pants and steps closer to me.

I inhale his scent and it makes me moan as I lean forward. I flick my tongues on the head of his cock and he lets a hiss escape his lips. I take the head into my mouth and Qimir lets out a soft moan, while holding the back of my head.

“You’re so good to me, little flower. So, so good.” He does slow and deep thrusts and I feel a tingle in the back of my throat.

“You know why…I’m standing like-oh fuck don’t stop sucking…just like that….You know why I’m standing right here, lit…little flower? So you can watch yourself in the mirror, while you take my cock down your throat.”

I glance over and sure enough we’re facing the mirror. It was a great turn on to see myself on my knees, taking him. I look back up and he slides out of my mouth.

“I’m going to go faster, but I just wanted to warn you, okay little flower?” He asks permission. I grant him that and he smiles. “Good girl, now open.” I open my mouth and he spits in it then slides his cock back in my mouth.

He starts thrusting deeper and faster which tickles my gag reflex. I try to push back but he takes my arms and keeps them up with on of his hands.

“No…hands, little flower. Fuck. Your mouth feels so good.” I start to choke a little but he doesn’t stop. He grips my hair and he fucks my throat deeper. I feel tears welling up in my eyes and he smirks.

“I know you can take this. I know you can take all of it down this pretty little throat of yours. And if not, then I’ll train your throat so…so it can only take my cock. F..fuck. Just like that. Swallow this cock like your life depends on it, Akasha.” He moans as he bucks his hips.

I try my best not to gag, so that he will be happy. Pleasing him seems to be my main focus and I want to make him happy.

When he finally pulls out, a trail of drool and precum drips from my lips. “Do you want me to stop?” He asks while stroking himself faster as he whimpers. “No, master. Keep go-” He doesn’t even let me finish my sentence as he enter my mouth once again.

This time I relax my throat as he face fucks me. I look in the mirror and what I see makes my juices drip onto the floor. Qimir’s muscles were flexed, his veins were pulsing and his facial expressions were blissful.

“My cock….belongs in your throat, Akasha. Don’t you think so?” He asks as he looks at me, thrusting and fucking. I nod, and I gag causing his cock to jump. “Oh fuck I’m gonna cum.”

No sooner, I feel his thick cum shoot down my throat. He groans for me to swallow every last drop and just like his good little flower, I obey.

I milk him and he bites his bottom lip looking down at me. He lets my hair and hands go and he lifts me up. I wrap my legs around him

and we kiss, tasting each other in each others mouths.

“You did so good, Akasha. Keep that up and I’ll become addicted to you.” He whispers sleepily. I begin to reply but a yawn cuts me off.

“How about, we get to bed.” I nod and look over at the cot but he shakes his head. “I think we both deserve to sleep in a comfortable bed tonight. And besides, I want you close.”

Hearing him say that makes my heart flutter.

Wait, no. I don’t want it to flutter.

What is Qimir doing to me?

NEXT

[reds-writings]

jealousy, jealousy!

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: hello! welcome to my first bout of writing! feedback is greatly appreciated and i hope you enjoy! there isn't much rust content on here so i figured i'd create it myself lmao

warnings: cursing, steamy scenes but nothing too crazy, sorta sexism, marty hart being himself, rust being pigheaded, mentions of sex, etc etc let me know if i missed anything (minors just don't bother interacting regardless thank you!)

word count: around 5.8k

Never did you think that sitting in the passenger’s seat of Rustin Cohle’s red Ford pickup could have you seething as it did now. This wasn’t at all how your night was supposed to go and the culprit of said unsavory evening was sitting right next to you, cigarette pinched between tense fingers and eyes set hard on the dark highway ahead. The stubborn bastard had made no move to turn on the radio to save you both from the borderline unbearable silence. All you had was the humid Louisiana air from his rolled-down window flowing into the truck’s cabin and you couldn’t quite find it in you to be grateful for the fact he seemed to have kept in mind you detested the smell of that sour burning tobacco. 

Just who the hell does he think he is?

The question that repeated itself a mile a minute in your Coors-addled brain as it fought to catch up with all that just occurred not even a mere hour prior. Rust, as you already well knew, did not bother himself much when it came to others unless it strictly involved the endless trials of his work. That was the line he drew on a daily basis. Nothing could be clearer than the fact that Rust had little to no capacity for getting truly personal with most who existed in his orbit.

It was something you dealt with a bit better than the likes of your other partner Marty day in and day out at the CID. Though he may be one mystery wrapped in a more or less fucked up enigma, Rust’s way of functioning stayed relatively consistent. You didn’t dig often given that he wasn’t up and ready to offer much in the first place. He was sharp and strong-minded. Possessing most qualities that make well for a good investigative partner. Lines didn’t get muddled. It was how you preferred it. Up until recently, that is.

You didn’t have much nerve or will to go down that route right about now. 

Earlier in the day…

Your fingers were cramping at the end of typing the last dregs of the day’s reports. This recent case was starting to weigh heavier and heavier as an influx of countlessly cryptic details revealed themselves with each milestone of the investigative process. Something about this being darkly occultish as it was made it all the more daunting. There was a sense of underlying dread that this was something bigger than all of you. A sentiment you found yourself sharing with at least one of your partners: Rust. Marty on the other hand was still on the fence, not totally in the business of believing this was more than just some twisted piece of shit who had nothing better to do with his time. You wish you had half the mind to reduce it down to something so simple.

Strange things were not that of an irregular occurrence around these parts. Though said strange things didn’t have the habit of making it to the limelight as the Dora Lange case had. This wasn’t the type of case where one could be fine with just leaving it at work and picking it back up when they returned the next day as normal. Its disturbing details twisted themselves into every fiber of your daily life since that poor girl was found posed in Erath. It was better to eat, sleep, and breathe this case so that it may be solved all the more quickly. 

A world with one less monster like the one capable of committing a murder such as this is was a world where you could maybe sleep a little more soundly. 

Rolling your shoulders back, you twisted your aching neck side to side, resounding with an aching series of pops. God, I need a drink. You thought to yourself as you leaned back into the roller chair at your desk. The clock on your floor’s wall read 6:02. With all the work on your part done you figured you could slip out with much complaint. Stiffly rising from your spot, you started to pack away any necessary belongings into your well-loved messenger bag. Marty glanced up from his notes with a small quirk of his brow, “You headin’ out?”

Throwing your hair up to save yourself from the impending humidity from outside you replied, “Yeah. Need to wash the day off me and go grab a drink or somethin’. Bein’ out talkin’ to them church folk in the heat nearly all afternoon then witnessin’ Rust make that one boy shit himself was enough for the day.” 

Marty snorted to himself at that while Rust made no move to acknowledge your statement from his spot as he analyzed his comically large ledger. The blonde sipped his evening coffee as you finished gathering your things, “Don’t get too crazy tonight now. Lots to do in the days to follow I reckon the more this case stays befuddlin’ as is.”

You scoffed lightly, “I don’t doubt that. I’ll probably just head to that Blue Gator joint off the highway. Grab a few beers. Maybe a dance should one be willin’. Need’ta let loose is all.” 

“I’m sure any fella would be delighted to spin the night away with the likes of you, darlin’. Leave it at just dancin’ will ya?” Marty snickered a bit as you scowled and flipped him off idly. You notice in your peripheral Rust go still with a pen in hand but he didn’t make any move to look up or participate in the conversation. 

Continuing, you fix Marty with a half-hard look, “I’m sure you have your extracurricular activities beyond the job so it ain’t a sin to have my own. Anways, this is hardly an appropriate conversation to have betwixt coworkers, Martin. Keep your nose outta it.” 

Marty let out a surprised guffaw and placed an offended hand over his heart. Rust still hadn’t moved an inch from his position. When you let your gaze drift over towards the silent half of the duo you were met with that cold blue stare of his. The mere instance of contact left you feeling funnier than you’d prefer as of late. Things were starting to blossom into something a little different between you two after the few months of being in each other’s presence. He had been starting to open up in a manner he hadn’t bothered to when he first transferred to the CID here in Louisana. His presence had been quiet but no less intimidating, leaving you and Marty at a loss of what to do to prompt him out of his self-imposed shell.

Now, as this new case unfolded it seemed to trigger a sudden release of the deepest tidbits of his…intense opinions and values that went on within the inner workings of his mind. Marty often found himself wishing that Rust never bothered to open his mouth at all. Anything coming from the brooding Texan seemed to offend Hart on some deeper level one way or another.

For you, while it was not all that pleasant to constantly hear how fucked up we as a collective were and how life had little to no meaning, were intrigued nonetheless. You believed that Rust was just as human as everyone else despite him pushing himself as far away from that narrative as possible. He was just broken in a way that couldn’t ever be truly reversed. So while his infinitely dismal ramblings left you feeling more defeated about life than anything else at times, you couldn’t find it in you to really hold it against him. 

When it came to your dynamic, he seemed to have more of an unspoken respect for you than most of your colleagues did within the department. It wasn’t some radical declaration made by him that clued you in on the matter. He mostly just treated you the same as everyone else. Not inherently negative nor too positively outgoing where others could accuse him of giving you some form of special treatment. He listened to you and took your input into genuine consideration which was more than you could ask for when it came to working alongside any of your other male counterparts. However, there were these little instances within the recent weeks that had your mind (and heart) taking another route when it came to how Rust Cohle just might regard you. 

First, it started with fresh coffee materializing on your desk by the time you’d be strolling in at morning time. Two sugars with one cream and always in your favorite green mug ordained with hand-painted daisies. Very specific and not at all a detail that Marty ever bothered himself with remembering about you in the time you’d known each other. Not that you ever really cared. No one else here would ever think to offer you a damn thing unless it was maybe the lovely receptionist up at the front.

It wasn’t until one night you had forgotten your keys at your desk and made your way back inside the assumingly empty department only to find the Rust Cohle with sleeves pushed up to his elbows in the small office kitchen cleaning your daisy mug that you’d left haphazardly in the sink before leaving. You watched in silent awe as he had set it gently aside after drying it for what you assumed was for the next morning where he’d be the one who dutifully made your memorized coffee order in secret before your arrival. To him, the act was probably meaningless. 

To you, the simple scene made your heart squeeze in a way you didn’t think was possible. 

Next, it occurred when he started offering you rides to and fro after your car suffered a nasty rear-ending thus needing to have it sit in the shop for the time being. At first, it was a little nerve-wracking to be in close proximity without Marty present to break any drawn-out silences but after a while you’d found yourself in a rhythm you could call your own. Sometimes you’d talk, sometimes you’d sit and listen to whatever old country cassettes he had stowed away in his glove compartment. It was never dull to you. 

Each car ride had you piecing together factoids that unfurled into the evergrowing idea that was your new(ish) partner. You still found yourself sharing more about your own life than he did more often than not but you were okay with that. Even if he wasn’t the most reactive of men, you knew he held on to every word. Anything he decided to sparingly share had you doing the same with a reverence you weren’t sure you carried for anyone else.  

After getting your car back and no longer needing his chauffeur services a silent agreement had followed. Neither party was completely ready to let go of the pleasant thirty-three minutes permitted to be spent together outside of work. It was decided that he’d drive you home on nights you happened to leave late, deeming it too dangerous to be traveling home at odd hours in the night although you had already been doing so plenty before he manifested into your life.

Eventually, he even found himself at your house one day after having determined that your porch steps needed fixing…or that your gutters should be cleared…or that the lawn was looking a little too overgrown than what was acceptable. Small acts where you felt that maybe he wanted to be in your presence a bit longer than normally desired when it came to his usual limits of socialization.

Seeing him working around your property with that sweat-soiled wife beater of his and those lithe, god-given arms made that squeeze in your heart reach new heights and your tongue feel like lead. Who knew such pictures of domesticity could have this intense of a hold over you? You usually prided yourself in not being so easily affected by men. Though it wasn’t necessarily news that Rust was his own brand of a striking handsome that stood out against most men you’d come across. The sweet tea you’d supply for the dreadful heat when he’d carry out his projects ended up being more for your own benefit than his.

You caught yourself feeling greedy for more of his presence as he made himself an increasingly present fixture in your life. Which realistically…couldn’t lead to any sort of good. 

Bringing yourself back to now, his gaze held an emotion you couldn’t quite place. Hell, most times it was hard enough to know exactly what he was thinking unless he outright declared it. Maybe it was disapproval? Judgement? It wasn’t likely that he wanted to hear about your potential escapades. You probably wouldn’t want to hear of his either (not that he ever does speak of it if he even engages in that sort of activity) but you’d be coming from a different place on that matter. He returns to the pages of his ledger after deciding to break the staring spell, “I don’t see what sorta grand company could be found at an establishment such as the Green Gator.”

 His tone came out a bit too passive for your liking. Bordering the ugly lines of judgy which was something that rubbed you wrong entirely, “It’s the Blue Gator-”

“Oh hush up, Mr. High and Mighty. Not every man is as intellectually driven as you find yourself. Most men want fun and ain’t gonna pass it up when it’s in front of em’. They don’t need nearly as much as you do to get their rocks off.” Marty angles himself towards Rust in his chair, already willing to bat for you in his more than unhelpful way. 

Rust just scoffed and shook his head slightly, “Wouldn’t expect a thing from anyone in this vast shithole…buncha ignorant shitheels with no sense of fuckin’…” He muttered the rest of his ramblings detailing the severe lack of intelligence that the people of Louisiana seemed to hold while bringing his attention back to his ledger. 

His shoulders were set in a harder line than usual. Marty got a kick out of it all, reducing Rust’s distaste to not being able to participate in normalcy like anybody else in the world could.    

On your end, it struck a nerve that he clearly found your plans more than dissatisfactory. It left an unpleasant taste in your mouth to be on the potential receiving end of Rust’s ruthless judgments.

“You forget him, y/n. You have yourself a good ol’ time with whatever strappin’ young man of your choosing should he be lucky. Don’t let grumpy guss piss on your parade.” 

You find yourself grimacing at how much focus on you and the prospect of potentially getting laid has been put. You look back to Rust but he seemed to be no longer interested in your presence, back in his own world and on the case. Patting Marty on the shoulder you finally make your way to head out, “G’night. I’d love it if we never brought any of this up again. Page me if anythin’ comes up.” 

“Y’got it, darlin’. You stay safe.” Marty points at you a bit more seriously and you nod in slight exasperation with a soft ‘got it’ before officially leaving. Rust hadn’t said another word which left you feeling all sorts of confused. Relieved he didn’t further insult your plans for a night out? Disappointed he didn’t put up much of a fight when it came to you maybe trying to avoid any of your current problems with the company of another man? You don’t know what you expected but you did know that you needed to get it together and just let this shit go even for just one night. 

And what a night it would be indeed. 

Night at the Blue Gator…

The night was proving to be a bit more than uneventful. Perhaps uneventful was just about the only thing your mind could handle at the given moment with everything else going on. The lingering feeling of Rust’s disapproval had also left you more affected than desired. With a few Coors in your system, you find your gaze a little hazy as it passes around the kitschy establishment.

Some George Strait song filters through the bar on top of the active chatter of the patrons taking up a surprising amount of space for a Wednesday night. The cute little black dress you managed to find in your closet and squeeze into was becoming less than ideal as you found yourself hearing the siren call of just calling it quits and crawling into bed back home. Clean sheets and reruns of something like The Golden Girls…absolute fucking heaven right about now. 

Briefly pressing your perspiring bottle to your forehead, you soon enough were roped into a dance as some lively Brooks and Dunne tune came on. The fella who managed to drag you on the dancefloor was decent enough. A bit short and plenty bald… with maybe a tad too eager of hands for your tastes that left you feeling a bit removed from the experience as a few more songs went on. You weaseled yourself out of the crowd after ‘promising’ baldy (named Rex or Tex but who’s to really care) you’d make your return after grabbing a refreshment. 

Making your way to the bar your legs come to a sudden halt at the sight of a familiar figure slouched on a stool. After your brief shock shifted into a brewing irritation, your feet found themselves mobile again as you sidle next to Rust and order yourself another drink. He put out his cigarette as soon as you were near his side but made no motion to speak so you find yourself shooting first.

“For a place you couldn’t bother gettin’ the name right of you can color me surprised to see you here.”

“A man ain’t allowed to drink after work?” Is his flat reply. 

You put your hands up in mock defense, “No need for my permission. Just didn’t think you’d grace the simpletons ‘round here when you can have a drink for free and in peace in the comforts of your own home.” 

Rust didn’t have anything to say to that, instead lifting his own drink to his lips, “That man sure had a grip on ya. Doesn’t seem the type you’d to give the time of day to. Less’ you’re that compelled to blow off steam.” 

The thinly veiled nonchalance of his insult didn’t go past you. Instead, it caused you to bristle only in the way you could when you had a few drinks in you, a bit more sensitive and a helluva lot more confrontational. Who was he to judge how you spend your time? Let alone who the hell you spend it with? You set your new drink down with more force than necessary and felt your face starting to get hot. 

“I can dance with just about anybody.”

“That’s been made clear.”

“And why in god’s name do you care exactly just who it is I dance with?”

“Don't remember ever givin' the implication that I quite cared.” Calculated blue flitted over you as if bored. But you knew better.

“I’m sorry, did you just come here to make me out to be some desperate whore for drinkin’ and dancin’ when I’m a grown-” That got his expression to fall with something closely resembling alarm. 

“That ain’t-”

“Last I checked I can do whatever I so fuckin’ please. Do not go insertin’ yourself in the aspects of my life in which you are not fuckin’ concerned. Some of us are lonely and tired and can’t take comfort in stupid murder manuals or severe stretches of solitude. Call it my shitty programmin’ but that’s just how it is for most people. If I wanna drink and let a greaseball feel me up then that’s entirely up to me! Shit, it might be dumber than hell but it’s not like I’m gonna sit and wait around for you to make a move! That’s if you even feel a speck of the way I’m startin’ to towards you. Knowin’ you you’ve probably noticed and just like to see me embarrassed or somethin’.”

 Everything was coming out like one big bout of word vomit. There was an even deeper change in Rust’s demeanor but you were too tipsy and too angry to pay much notice. The burning behind your eyes grew stronger as you threw up a finger to jab at his shoulder,

“It is not up to you to judge people for the shit they do that you deem is beneath you every chance you get. You’re not perfect yourself and I know you know it. But thanks anyway for making me feel like a fuckin’  stupid loser-” Your heated rant was interrupted by a fat mitt of a hand making its way around your waist. 

“This fella botherin’ you, honey?” The hot whiskey-riddled breath of Tex or Lex or whoever the fuck immediately made your nose wrinkle in disgust. Your patience had run its due course for the night as you roughly shoved him off you,

“Oh come off it, Dex-”

“It’s Rex.”

“I don’t care no more I’m leavin’.” You threw a couple bills on the bar’s surface before making your move past both the offending men. Rex had different ideas and made the choice of gripping your arm tightly without much remorse despite your loud protest. 

“You still owe me a dance, bitch. Where d’ya think you’re goin-”

“You best get your hands off her, boy.” Rust’s glare was off-putting even to you. Rex was either too stupid or too drunk to really care as he attempted to yank you back towards him. With your heart racing, all you could think to do was take your heel-adorned food and stomp on his booted one hard. The short bastard yelped as he let you go, giving you the room to skirt past him far enough just in time for Rust to take him by the collar and send him reeling with a swift punch.   

Rex surprisingly regained momentum and took his chance to get a lick back at Rust but his opponent was already plenty steps ahead of him. Rust took Rex’s fist, twisting it behind the shithead’s back, and slammed his head into the bar countertop with a sick thud. A commotion had well enough formed by now and it was your obvious cue to start hustling your way out. Rust spit on the man who now had made a home on the sticky floorboards before turning to you. Your chest was heaving as you made way to open your mouth but he wouldn’t hear it as he grabbed your arm and started leading you out. 

The bar doors slammed open and the persistently thick air of the South drove you further into rage. You yanked your arm a few times until finally freeing yourself from his clutches. He didn’t stop to acknowledge you, instead making his way toward his truck as if expecting you to faithfully trail behind.

“Where exactly do you get off?!” You demanded, struggling to keep up in your heels which then had you electing to nearly fall over yourself trying to rip them off.

No answer.

“I’m talkin’ to you! What the hell is wrong with you?” Your feet were finally free on the warm pavement of the parking lot. You still received no reply.

“RUSTIN.” Your throat nearly felt raw at the volume of your hollering. He stopped at his truck’s passenger door and opened it. The blood in your veins thrummed while your head and heart felt like they were going to burst out of their respective places. 

“Get in the truck.”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You’re drunk-”

“You ain't one to talk. Don’t think I ain’t seen those bottles of cough syrup in your car or them pill bottles you got! I’ll make it just fine-"

“Y/n.” His low baritone left no room for argument, nor did his hard stare. You felt like a petulant child staring back at him with your arms crossed. 

Your will to break was unshakeable but you had the inclination that if you pushed him hard enough he’d have you in that passenger seat even if you came kicking and screaming. Huffing out a harsh breath you half stomped your way over and climbed in. Grabbing the handle for yourself you slammed the door before he had the chance to close it for you. You felt a lick of petty satisfaction when you saw his shoulders drop and a hand come up to squeeze the back of his neck. It wasn’t often you could catch Rust off-guard, let alone see him visibly exasperated.

After a moment or two, he rounded his way to the driver’s side and got inside with noticeably less ruckus than you did. He lit a cigarette as he pulled out of the parking lot, but not before rolling down the window in consideration of you. Bastard. 

“My car better find its way back into my damn driveway come morning.” 

He remained silent for the rest of the way.

Back to the present…

Pulling up to your house, the truck hadn’t even made a complete stop before you unbuckled and hastily hopped on out. You only stumbled a bit as the old Ford squeaked behind you in what was probably the harsh fashion in which Rust must’ve slammed on his brakes at your sudden escape. You heard the truck get thrown into park and a heavy slam of a door shutting as you quickened your pace up the pathway to your front porch. Your heaving breaths were drowned out by the frogs and nearby cicadas that created their own little symphony on your property. You knew Rust was following you but you naively hoped you’d make it up to shut the door in his face just in time. 

'Fuck, I forgot my shoes.’ Was your narrow thought as you fumbled for your key ring in the endless depths of your purse. Rust’s footsteps grew closer causing you to whip around and shove him back with a clumsy force much to his surprise. 

“Don’t you come followin’ me! I’ve had just about enough of you!”

“Listen-”

“No you listen! Never have I been more embarrassed than you’ve made me tonight. Never have I felt more stupid and small all because you decided today was the day I’d be on the shit end of your scathing criticisms! You can fuck right off with that mess. I’m goin’ to bed.” You turned to start your trek before he spoke up again,

“My intentions were not to come by and make you feel stupid.”

A near-jarring laugh clawed its way from your system, “Oh, so that’s your twisted way of makin’ a girl feel cared for. Is that it?” 

He let out a frustrated sound, “What’d you mean by startin’ to feel a certain way towards me. Back at the bar.”

Your heart nearly dropped out of your ass just then. Did you really blab on about that somewhere in the middle of your tirade? God, you could just about go feed yourself to the gators right now. Work would no doubt be complete hell after this nightmare of an outing.

“Take it how you want it. I know with you being as perceptive as you are it shouldn’t come as a mystery what I might feel. You do plenty towards me that’s had me foolishly thinkin’ there could be a one in a million chance of somethin’ but no dice. So what I want to know is why did you follow me out. Why did you come all this way to ruin my night.” 

The silence was biting as he offered up no explanation. He seemed to be trying to figure out that answer himself. Instead of the petty satisfaction you felt from seeing him at a loss earlier, he seemed well and truly bothered now which left a sinking feeling in your gut. The thought of the immovable force in front of you being this bothered when it came to matters involving you just made you all the more disoriented. There was only one other plausible explanation as to why he went through all this trouble to insert himself into the mix. 

You could almost fall to your knees laughing at the sheer ridiculousness of your creeping realization. It couldn’t be. There was just no way. But given the miserable look of Rust’s obvious inner battle on what he should decide to say to you had you gawking. 

The man was jealous. Rustin Cohle, feeler of nothing and believer of none, was jealous. A fit of giggles made their way out of you before you could help it. It might’ve been in poor taste during the seriousness of the moment between you both but you couldn’t stop. Rust seemed all the more distressed as if he’d been caught red-handed. Stripped bare in front of you despite no real accusation of his behavior being made quite yet. 

“If I knew any better I’d say you were plain jealous, Rust. Can’t say I see you bein’ capable of actin’ so irrationally. I thought entertainin’ such primal notions was too beneath you. Especially should it involve lil ol’ me.”

But he was indeed more than susceptible to all the irrational factors of his so-called programming when it came to you. You were beautiful. Mind, body, and soul. Your presence brought things to the surface he didn’t believe he could ever have the experience of feeling again. It scared him shitless. Having to face what was making his old tired heart beat into a lively rhythm again after convincing himself things of that nature were abysmally futile. Even as you stood in front of him now, with eyes and hair looking something fiercely wild, feet bare and dirtied from your lack of shoes in that high-cut black ensemble you had on. He absolutely knew that he couldn’t bring himself to deny what his programming was demanding of him when it came to the unknowing hold you had over him. Flexing his shaking fingers as if to render them steady he took a slow approach to you. 

This was a moment where you had neither the sense nor the imagination to anticipate what he’d do next. It was as if your heart had forgotten how to keep itself beating. This was the closest you had found yourself in his proximity. Being able to see every fine detail of the tragically beautiful man in front of you could have left you speechless for the rest of your days.

A large, calloused hand came to cup your jaw then the other followed. Both nearly took up the entire sides of your face, and their warmth made you feel as if you were on fire. His grip was firm… more so intenful if you were to put a name to it. Eyes searched each other in the most tortuously bated moment you’d ever found yourself being victim to. If you were to move an inch or look away the spell might be broken forever and you think you might just collapse if that were to happen. When had you gotten this dramatic?

Kiss me. God, kiss me. Just kiss me. You thought over and over as if willing it into his mind. Then, as if he heard you through some unspoken link, he did. 

It was like being let in on one big universal secret that couldn’t be fathomed by most. Never had you thought a kiss could wield as much power as Rust’s did. For being such a hard and withdrawn individual, the feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your plush ones felt nothing short of soul-bearing and endlessly warm. Trailing your hands up his broad chest, the quick pitter-pattering of his heart didn’t go past you. Drawing your palms up further you reach to lace deft fingers into the sandy waves that you’d secretly been aching to touch for a while now. His breath faltered as you pulled back for a brief moment. It wasn’t long before the invisible magnet between you both had you returning for more. 

The kiss turned more intense, bodies pressing and molding into each other as if you could become one entity. His tongue traced the seams of your lips and you had no qualms with letting him invade your senses further. The need for air was becoming harder to ignore but no force on earth could rip you away. The desire for him was something you’d not felt for another person in you’re not sure how long. If not ever. His breath held traces of the Lonestar he’d been cradling and the cigarette he’d deeply pulled on the way here and it had you absolutely hooked as it curled into your mouth. You didn’t know how long the pair of you stood on your porch necking like a bunch of desperate teenagers but by the time he pulled away you felt dizzy at the sight of his flushed complexion and swollen lips. Possessiveness gripped your being at the thought of being able to have such an effect on him. You. No one else. 

Rust’s grip loosened on your heated face as he planted one last sweet kiss on you before stepping away entirely. It was a shock that you had any remaining strength to keep yourself upright. His expression seemed a bit more relaxed, a bit too casual for what just transpired. There was a brief pause. 

“Don’t go out dancin’ anymore.” 

With that, he turned and made his slow descent back to his truck. Snapping out of your daze once the words sunk into the crevices of your Rust-drunk brain you quirked a brow, 

 “If that’s your odd way of layin’ claim on me I think I’m gonna need to ask for a more straightforward redo, mister.” 

You saw his shoulders shake slightly in amusement as the night found itself ending on a more playful albeit confusing note, “G’night, y/n.”

“I’m bein’ serious, Rust. You can’t just kiss a girl like that then waltz on out. I have questions.” You pointed.    

 “I’ll see ya tomorrow.” The cowboy gave a slight wave and then got into his truck. Oh, you could wipe that subtly growing smirk right off his stupid face. His dry sense of humor made its presence known at what you thought was the most inopportune of times. You stood there watching his truck disappear into the night, the ghost of him sticking to you like molasses. Your fingertips graced your buzzing lips and you could’ve started giggling again like some schoolgirl. How ridiculous indeed. 

You were so not letting any of this go when you got into work tomorrow.

[semisgroupie]

let the right one in

aizen sosuke x fem. reader

wc: 4.0k words

warnings: stalking, noncon filming (he breaks into reader’s apartment and sets up cameras everywhere), unprotected sex, biting, creampie, very delusional aizen, praise, possessiveness, brief mention of urahara x reader, panty stealing, marking, allusions to murder, alcohol mention

synopsis: always be aware of who you’re letting into your home

a/n: 2500 words of this fic was sponsored by amazing people! thank you for sponsoring this fic but most of all thank you for helping the people in Gaza. if you enjoyed this work there are more works of mine up for sponsorship linked here. also check out @/ficsforgaza to see the other talented artists/writers/etc or just to see how else you can help!

Sosuke was ashamed of himself for doing something like this. He never thought he could conjure these thoughts, let alone perform the actions he has been doing but here he is. He checks his watch and looks around at the train station entrance before adjusting the hood on his head and disguising himself in the shadows. You finally walk out and adjust your bag on your shoulder, by the expression on your face, Sosuke could tell that you’ve had a long day at work.

You start your walk to your apartment complex, it's in a decent neighborhood. Sosuke doesn’t like that there’s some sketchy areas and some weird characters on the route you take home but he can’t change your mind just yet. He would have to make himself known first — well he’d have to reintroduce himself to you.

You two had met during a speed dating event. You were dragged there by a friend of yours who didn’t want to go alone and being the good friend you are, you went. You didn’t care for most of the guys you met but there were two guys that piqued your interest. You believe their names were Kisuke and Sosuke, the short conversations you had with them were interesting but you weren’t able to get any contact information from them because your friend ended up dragging you out of the event. You thought about looking them up and trying to find them but things with work got busy and it just slipped your mind. The thing is, Sosuke was doing all the searching for you. It's surprising how much information you can get from just one internet search and spending 15 minutes on someone’s social media profiles. He basically found out everything about you, your interests, your hobbies, the cafe you liked to go to whenever you had enough time in the morning, the bars and clubs your friends frequented, and most importantly, where you worked. Once he found out where you worked he decided to see you a little more closely.

He ended up following you home the first night he went to your workplace. He only followed enough to see the building you lived in, he didn’t want to push it too far and risk getting caught. Each day he followed you, he got closer and closer to you. He found out what apartment you lived in, he also was able to make a copy of your keys when you misplaced them one day when you were on your route home. While you were out at work, he took it upon himself to let himself into your apartment and he rummaged around. He saw the snacks you liked to enjoy, he found some of the stuffed animals you kept, he also found your little stash of toys. Just your regular dildos and vibrators, nothing too crazy or fancy. He even pocketed some of your used panties to keep as a souvenir before he could get to the real thing and placed some cameras along your photo frames to keep a closer eye on you.

He started watching you like you were his favorite show, you basically did become his favorite show. Whenever you were home and pranced around, he watched every movement. He watched how you liked to pamper yourself with two glasses of wine every Friday night, he watched your very precise skincare routine, and he watched how you liked to touch yourself and make yourself cum. By watching you, he learned what you liked and that way, he could just win you over when he got his hands on you.

It didn’t take long for him to find your landlord to see if there was a vacancy. There were plenty and he wasn’t surprised, it was an old building and the rent was pretty high. He kept the apartment bare, only set up the Wi-Fi and had an air mattress in the middle of the living room area. The apartment was basically his surveillance room and he watched every move you made. He was itching to get his hands on you.

But there was one thing that really helped him make his decision on when he should make himself known to you. One night when he was watching you, he noticed that there was someone new added to the mix. His eyes widened when he saw the mess of blond hair follow behind you and pounce on you when you made it to the living room. How the fuck did you find Kisuke again? He saw how you were hitting it off with the blond during the speed dating event but he didn’t think that you would find him again and he definitely didn’t think that you would end up fucking him once you two reconnected. Sosuke was furious as he watched Kisuke defile you, he knew that Kisuke could never make you feel the same way he could make you feel. But why would you bother to reach out to Kisuke and not him? Did he not make a lasting impression on you? Was he not good enough for you? It was bullshit and he just felt his anger and jealousy bubble. But he just had to remind himself that you were probably just confused and he just needed to remind you that you needed him.

When you were at work the following day, Sosuke let himself into your apartment with his copy of your keys and went to your apartment. He looked around and saw the pile of mail that you had on your kitchen counter, he rummaged through the envelopes and set a couple aside so he could bring them back with him. Then he looked around and saw that your kitchen sink was leaking, it would be a shame if it continued or it would be worse if it turned into a full blown leak. But, if you had a leak and he reluctantly came by to drop off some mail that accidentally ended up in his mailbox, then he could just come in and save the day. He looked around your apartment and grabbed the toolbox you had tucked away in your closet that was stocked with cleaning supplies. He loosened the pipe enough so it could start dripping, by the time you would get home, it would turn into a full blown leak.

Now it all just led to where he is now, trailing behind you as you make your way home. He keeps a decent distance from you, nothing that would make you turn to try to see who was behind you. He continues to follow you while you scroll through some recent emails and social media notifications then he makes a separate turn from you. You make your way to the entrance of your apartment building then stop in front of the door as you dig through your bag to find your keys. “Fuck, I knew I should’ve taken them out on the train ride here.” You continue to rummage through your crowded bag until you hear some footsteps approaching, which make you step to the side before you lift your head to see who’s there. Your eyes instantly widen at the sight of the man in front of you, his shirt is wet from presumably sweat and his chest heaves with heavy breaths. If only you knew that this was all a ploy, If you only knew that Sosuke was following you and the only reason why he looked the way he did was because he splashed some water from a water bottle all over his face and chest. But you wouldn’t know that.

“Sorry to scare you, I just came back from a run.” He smiles at you and you have to break yourself from your trance so you can reply. “No it's okay, I just got so distracted by looking for my keys.” “Oh, I can help you get in,” he reached into his pocket to pull out his set of keys and opened the front door, holding it for you. You finally get your keys out and walk through the door with Sosuke trailing behind. “Did you just move in? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before. I’m Y/N.” You smile at him and let your eyes wander along his body, you can faintly see the outline of his muscles but you don’t see the look of slight frustration in his eyes. How the hell do you not recognize him? Did you two not hit it off the way he thought you two did? There’s no way it could be a figment of his imagination, he wasn’t that delusional. Still he offers a smile, “I’m Sosuke, I moved in probably about a month or two ago. It’s nice to meet you.”

You walk with him to the mailboxes and gather some of your mail while he does the same, “hm, that’s weird, I think this might belong to you.” You furrow your eyebrows as you take the envelope from him and your eyes widen a little when you see your name on the postage. “I knew the mailman was mixing up people’s mail, he’s too old to be doing this job. I don’t even think he can see properly even with his glasses. But thank you.” You smile and tuck the envelopes away in your bag, “actually, I think I might have some more of your mail back in my apartment. How about I bring it to you in like 10 minutes?” You nod along at his suggestion, you never know what mail might have been misplaced and if it's something important then you should have him bring it to you, plus you’ll be able to see your attractive new neighbor again. “Okay, that sounds perfect. Thank you so much.”

He smiles and walks with you to the elevator and enters the metal box with you. You look at the floor he pressed and see that he lives on the floor below you. Once he leaves the elevator and the elevator lands on your floor, you practically run to your apartment. But the surprise lies behind the door. As you push the door open you immediately hear running water and the sound makes your eyebrows furrow. “I could have sworn that I shut off all the faucets before I left.” You mumble to yourself as you make your way into the kitchen and your eyes widen at the sight. “Fuck!” You run over to your linen closet to grab some towels and run over to try to dry off what’s already leaked. You look over at the cabinet underneath the sink and you see the source of the leak, “fucking bullshit!” You groan out and to top off everything that’s going on, there’s a knock at your door.

You stand up and dust yourself off as you open the door to see Sosuke standing there with a handful of envelopes in his hand. “Hi, by any chance, do you know how to fix a leak? I have some tools but I don’t want to risk screwing things up even more, I don’t want this apartment to be a swimming pool.” You open the door more to let him inside then make your way over to the kitchen, wet towels are strewn all over the floor and you look over at him. “Grab the toolbox and I’ll fix this up for you.” You nod at his instructions and make your way over to your supply closet and grab the toolbox before handing it to him. You watch on the side as he goes under the cabinet and starts tinkering with the pipe. You listen to his little groans, grunts and muttered curses as he works on the problem. After about 10 minutes you watch him come up from the cabinet and his shirt is completely soaked, “problem is fixed but do you by any chance have a dryer? Or at least a dry shirt? I twisted the pipe the wrong way and got splashed in return.”

Your eyes widen as you look at his chest and muscles through his shirt, it leaves nothing to the imagination and the sight alone makes your mouth water. “Y/N?” You snap out of your trance as he calls your name and heat spreads along your cheeks. “Sorry, I can put your shirt in the dryer but I don't have a shirt that’ll fit you that you can use in the meantime. Can I have your shirt and I have a dry towel you can use to dry yourself off.” He nods and takes his shirt off, if the sight before he took his shirt off was making you drool then him without the shirt was enough to make your brain malfunction. He places the wet shirt in your hand and you make your way to where your washer and dryer are. The events that have taken place are akin to the start of a porno, you just need to whip out the overly horny and corny lines before the real action starts. You place the shirt in the dryer and put on the settings for it, “Sosuke, I have some wine and some leftover takeout if you’d like some. I can’t thank you enough for saving me like this.” You shout out to him and grab a dry towel before making your way over to him.

You hand him the towel and watch his muscles flex as he dries off his hair and chest. “I’ll take some wine if you don’t mind.” You nod and grab two glasses and pour the wine in both before handing one to him. “I’m sorry about this Sosuke, I didn’t think this was what you were planning on dealing with when we met earlier.” You smile nervously before taking a big swig of your wine, maybe the alcohol could calm your nerves or just dull you for a few moments. He chuckles and takes a sip of his wine, “well I think today is just full of surprises, actually, the past half hour has been full of surprises. I wouldn’t mind going through it again if that meant I could spend more time with my beautiful neighbor. A beautiful neighbor who is very obvious with her ogling.” You almost choke on your wine at his words and you set the glass down as you stumble over your words, “I-I’m sorry, y-you’re very attractive. I’m sorry.”

He laughs and shakes his head as he sets his glass down and takes a few steps closer to you, “don’t apologize, I have to admit that I was checking your ass out when you were leading me into the kitchen. That pencil skirt is just doing wonders for your body.” He sucks in a breath and meets your eyes. You don’t know what to say or do but stare into his eyes, your heart is pounding in your chest as he leans in closer and only stops when his lips are about to brush yours. “Do you want this? Should I continue?” You lick your dry lips and nod but all he does is click his tongue against his teeth, “words, dear. I need to hear you.” You take a deep breath and finally find the words, “yes, please continue.” With that he finally closes the distance and presses his lips against yours. He snakes one hand around your waist to pull you in and moves his free hand to your ass, gripping it tightly to make you moan against his lips. Your hands find themselves on his shoulders and he slips his tongue into your mouth, you can taste the wine on his tongue and he breaks the kiss.

Your lips are slightly parted as you pant and he lifts you onto your kitchen counter. “This outfit looks beautiful on you but I need it off now.” He moves his hands to your blouse and rips it open, “sorry, I hope this wasn’t expensive.” He mutters before he drops his head to your chest, licking and sucking along the skin of your breasts, pulling down your bra in the process so he can suck on your nipples. You arch your back and grip his shoulders tighter, your nails digging against his skin. “Sosuke!” He glances up at you, chocolate brown pools gaze back at you as his tongue swirls around your pert buds. He releases the nipple in his mouth with a wet pop and smiles at you. “You sound so beautiful when you cry my name like that. I wanna hear it again.”

He takes your nipple back in his mouth and lightly bites down, the action makes you gasp and you bring one hand to his hair, tugging on the soft locks. He releases your nipple once more then continues to kiss down your body. Lewd, wet sounds fill your ears as he kisses your tummy, his fingers move to undo the zipper of your skirt and with your help he tugs it off your body. The skirt falls to the floor and joins the scraps of your shirt that are there. He glances up at you as he kisses your pussy through your panties. With how wet you are already, he can taste you through the fabric. He keeps his eyes on you as he flattens his tongue along your covered core and licks up. You whimper and buck your hips, trying to get more from him. “Sosuke, please just do something already. I can’t take this teasing.” You whine out as he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh, he licks along the sensitive skin then bites down lightly.

“Oh come on, you can take a little more. Don’t be impatient, I had to wait and now so do you.” Your eyebrows furrow at his words and you open your mouth to question him but the words die down as he presses his thumb against your covered clit. Your breath hitches as he starts to move his thumb in circles. “Sosuke, I need you please.” You look down at him as you buck your hips again and as much as he wants to deny you and keep teasing you, the look in your eyes makes him crumble.

“Don’t worry darling, I’ll give it to you.” He stands up and nudges you to lay back against the counter, the cold surface contrasts greatly against your hot skin. He pulls down his sweatpants and boxers, making his cock spring out to full attention. Your eyes widen when you see it, it’s thicker than your biggest toy and long. You look at the tuft of neatly trimmed brown hair and your mind instantly wonders how good it’ll feel rubbing against your clit but your thoughts are quickly cut off as he pulls you closer to him by your legs. “Here you were begging for more and you’re just letting your mind wander. Maybe I shouldn’t fuck you, just let you watch as I give myself a pussy job. You’re wet enough, I’ll have more than enough lubrication to use you.” He pulls your panties to the side and presses his cock against your slick lips, moving up and down to emphasize his point.

You lift yourself on your elbows to watch him and buck your hips. “I’m sorry Sosuke, please just fuck me. I won’t get distracted again, fuck me.” He continues to grind against your pussy then pulls back. He wraps his hand around the base of his cock and slowly starts guiding it inside of you. He bites his bottom lip and moves his free hand to grip your waist as he continues to push into you, slowly at first and then he slams the rest of his cock inside of you. “Sosuke!” You cry out his name as an orgasm washes over you, your body trembles and your pussy clenches around him tightly. This has to be the fastest you’ve ever been able to cum.

Your chest rises and falls as you try to even yourself out after your orgasm but Sosuke doesn’t give you enough time to do so. He moves his other hand to your chest and toys with your nipples as he starts thrusting into you. “Oh? Not used to being fucked like this? Hm? I’ll make sure to get this through your head by the time I’m cumming inside of you. No one could ever make you feel like I can. Not any other guy you find on an app, not any of your exes and definitely not Kisuke. Kisuke didn’t make you cum this fast. Kisuke needed your help to guide him on how to make you cum. Can’t believe you let that pathetic man fuck you.” He mumbles as he continues to pound into you. The tip of his cock hits your g spot and his pubic hair brushes against your clit deliciously.

“Oh fuck Sosuke!” You bring your hands down to his wrists and grip them tightly as he fucks into you. “I’ve watched you for so long, I know everything you like. I even know it better than you do. You’ll never find anyone like me, that’s why you only need me. Only I can fuck you like this. Make you cum until your brain turns to mush. Only me.” He groans out more confessions as he drills into you, his hips slapping against yours harder and harder with each time he bottoms out. He looks at the expression on your face and he knows that whatever he says won’t penetrate deeper into your brain.

He could even confess to murder and all you’ll do is whimper and moan his name. Just the thought of it tempts him. “Do you know how badly I wanted to come in here and pull Kisuke off of you that night? I know you were just faking it to make him feel better about himself. And that fucking look on his face after he coated your soft skin in his filthy cum, I wanted to wipe that smirk off his face. Makes me fucking sick to know he had you before I did. But don’t worry, he’ll never be a problem for us. I’ll get rid of him and we’ll never hear from him again. That sounds good, doesn’t it? I’ll build a world just for you and me in it. Anyone who tries to get in, I’ll just get rid of them.” He leans in and kisses your neck, biting the skin as he continues to pound into you. “I’m cumming again!” Your hands fly to his back as another orgasm washes over you. You drag your nails against his skin, leaving red marks in its wake that he’ll wear with pride.

He continues to pound into you and lifts his head so his mouth is by your ear. “Now you’re going to take my cum inside of you. I’ll be the only person you’ll fuck from now on, no one else. Got that?” He continues to pound into you as his cock twitches inside of you. “Yes cum inside of me please!” He slams his hips into yours once, twice more and he bottoms out. His balls flesh against your ass as he starts to fill you with sticky ropes of hot cum. He pants in your ear as you pant to catch your breath. He slowly pulls back and hooks his hands behind your back to pick you up. “Time for us to go lay down.” He mutters as he holds you close to him, his cock still lodged inside of you as he takes you to your bedroom.

He pulls the covers back and lays down, keeping you on top of him as he pulls the covers over you both. He caresses your head and back as he peppers kisses along the crown of your head. “Rest up, you’ve had a busy day today. Just get some rest, my love. Today is the start of our lives together, I can’t wait to watch this back later. Just relive this beautiful moment.” He smiles as he watches you fall asleep, peaceful like a little kitten. It’s cute really, it’s so surprising how you easily fell into the lion’s den.

Easy prey and now, he’ll never let you go.

taglist: @saexy @siderearum @cockaiine @entirelysein-e (link in pinned to join the taglist!)

[last-words-ofashootingstar]

Cornflower Blue

SPOOKTOBER SPECIAL

❥Yandere Outlaw Song Mingi x fem reader

➯a/n: this is my darkest fic yet imo, be sure to read the contents and take care of yourself! also im super proud of this, it took like three months tbh and i still didn't get to fit in everything i wanted to. enjoy some yandere minki 💙

✃The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

♫ "You love me 'till you wear me out, then you love me more." -Cornflower Blue, Flower Face ♫"Love's never been more than pain, so Baby, show me how bad you hurt." -Dog Days, Ethel Cain ♫"My Babe would never fret about what my hands and my body done- if The Lord don't forgive me, I'd still have my Baby." -Work Song, Hozier ♫"I just wanted to be yours. Can I be yours? Just tell me I'm yours." - Strangers, Ethel Cain ♫

✫彡wordcount: 14k

♡'･ᴗ･'♡(ಡ‸ಡ) (>ᴗ•) genre: plot heavy smut, yandere, angst

ಠ_ಠwarning/content: GOOD LORD WHAT HAVE I DONE ??? wild west au, HEAVY yandere themes, murder, reader near death experience, mingi is CRAZY, bribery, manipulation, threatening, gun violence/shoot-out, injuries, invasion of privacy, 'off-screen' death of main characters, kidnapping, NSFW; multiple sex scenes, masterbation, unprotected(BOO), first time, head(reader receiving), size difference, spit, breeding kink, overstim, biiiiiig dick mingi (i'm a sucker😞), praise, dirty talk, soft sex turned rough, extreme possessiveness

not edited, definitely grammatical errors 🥲

⁂taglist: @stvrfir3 @tunaasan @marievllr-abg @nini4m @senpai-of-doom

MATURE UNDER CUT MDNI

"Ellis~" Your sing song tone echoes out through the alleyway, crates of stored food blocking your view. "Oh, my! Is that a corn snake?" You yelled out dramatically, crouching down behind a crate.

"Where?!" The young boys voice gets closer by the second until he runs up to you and you snatch him up.

"Wraa! I got you!" He laughs loudly, an heart-full sound that rings out in the dead town. Everyone has gone besides very few to a new market up North. "I've caught you, and I'll eat you up!" You pull him up as he yells and laughs and swing him around as you twirl to the main road. "I'll have ye for supper," you laugh with your best witch-like voice.

"No, I'm not tasty!"

"No? Well... I guess I shouldn't do this then!" You playfully nom at his sweatered shoulder, tickling his ribs.

"Auntie, please, I'll do it! I'll sweep!"

You stand up like nothing ever happened and smile, "great, Miss Carmen will be most pleased." You had recruited multiple of the youngsters left behind to help you maintain the vacant homes while the market took place, and some off them were less than happy to have been roped in. "Would you like me to carry you?"

"Ye' , please!" His smile is missing a tooth, and it makes you chuckle.

You place him over your hip and begin the short walk, planning out the rest of the days chores in your head when he screams, "horsie!"

You follow the path his chubby fingers points to, and find a large figure riding in past the town sign on a similarly large white horse. His face is obscured by his large droopy hat, but that isn't what makes you suspicious at first.

The man riding into town has multiple guns on his figure.

You scramble to the side of the dirt path and hold Ellis' head to your shoulder, looking up at the stranger as he slows his horse to come to a stop right infront of you.

   "Hello, Si-"

  "Auntie, I'm scared." Despite your best efforts, the young boy had caught a glimpse of the towering and dangerous-looking man, shivering in your hold.

     You crouch down and set him down carefully, rubbing his back for a moment before you turn him in the direction you want him to go, "run off to the schoolhouse, tell Maria to come and cook up our guest a meal. You can do that, right?"

     He rubs his eyes and peeks at the man before looking back to you, nodding eagerly. "Go on and get, then." You pat his shoulder and watch him run before turning to the man.

       "Room and board, Sir?" You speak formally to the hidden man.

    "Yes." He speaks simply, swinging his leg and jumping down from the horse.

    He's no less intimidating now that he's technically level with you. He looms over you like a shadow and places a chill in your bones. "Is this place a ghost town?" He has an accent that you can't place, but you lock onto it anyhow because it's quite clear he isn't from around here. You look away from him, trying to hide your nerves at the fact that he's the first real stranger you've ever met.

    "No, Sir. Most are away to sell our spring crops." He hums shortly in response, watching you closely from under the shadow his hat casts over his eyes as you grab his horses reigns. You can feel the way his eyes bore into your every move as you begin waking, "follow me, then."

    It's a silent and most awkward walk down the deserted main street, and you can still feel his gaze burning into your back as you lead his horse into the stables.

"So, where are you from, stranger?"

     "Away." Your feeble attempt at small talk is shut down by the man immediately as he stands in the large doorway, broad shoulders nearly touching its sides.

"Very well," you step back out of the horse's temporary home, and are put in the shadow his large frame casts. "Uhm, my name is (Y/n)," you extend your hand, trying to remember your manners despite the fear in your gut.

     He takes your hand, roughly. You can't tell if he means to- or if he's just that strong. "Mingi."

     His hand is cold. It shocks you. You pull away from his grip and push past him, head lowered. You've quickly found that you don't enjoy strangers. "Miss Maria can help you get settled, show you around if you like. Nothin' much to do 'round here besides drink or play ball." You ramble on as you head to the bar, just down the road. You don't have to look behind you to know he's following. You can feel his gaze locked in on your back, that same feeling you get when men at the bar have one too many or that time when a wild boar almost got you.

      The bar isn't anything special, though nothing in the town is really. He looks around, silently. A few wooden booths and rickety tables. A pool table. A small island that separates the main floor and the bartenders area. Beyond that, he can see a kitchen. He almost thought his luck had run out when he rode into the seemingly deserted town, and then he saw you twirling the young boy into the main road.

     He nods his head, maybe subconsciously, to say he's pleased enough to stay. "Up this way," your voice echoes in the empty space, and you touch his arm ever so lightly to get his attention. The staircase is hidden by the corner, and he has to crouch to ascend them. When he does, he's pleasantly surprised.

     The room has a homey, lived in feel to it. Well, most of it. It's a large space, walls decorated with dried flowers and boxed in dead insects, chalk drawings of all kinds of things on the dark oak walls. There's a slanted shelf that's adorned with carved wooden trinkets and toys, most of which have a small layer of dust if he looks hard enough. A large open window is on the back wall, facing the town, and a dresser that fits perfectly under it. The bed on the left side of the dresser is messy, a large fur blanket that's bundled up to expose pristine white sheets.

     The part that doesn't look as lived in is on the right side of the dresser. An fresh lantern candle placed neatly on the made bed, dark red sheets and grey comforter.

     "I hope you don't mind a roommate... I'm not here for the most part, I won't be in your hair." You're shuffling around quickly, hiding a few things that he didn't get to inspect into the left side of the dresser. "You can," you gulp, clearly uncomfortable with the silent man, "you can put your things away in these drawers if you like."

He stands, like a scarecrow, holding his rucksack tightly. When he moves, you flinch, sliding closer to what he now placed together is your bed. He chooses to ignore that, sitting down on the other bed and feeling the soft fabric. "You own this place?"

You're taken aback by his unprovoked speaking, gathering you thoughts as you sit across from him on your own bed. "Uh, no. A man named Louis owns this and the bar."

"Hm. And you?"

"I work down in the bar, bartending and such. So he lets me stay."

A small smirk plays at his lips, hidden by his hat as he looks around again. You've clearly lived here a long while. There's more to your story than just working downstairs. "Kind of him."

    "Very. You may be able to thank him for his hospitality, he gets back in a few days." You pause for a moment before you ask tentatively, "how long will you be staying?"

     He stands and turns his back to you as he takes off his hat, beginning to unpack his bag. "Few weeks maybe."

    "Ah," you draw quietly, anxiety growing in your gut. The very few visitors you could remember stayed for only days, if that. Even then, they weren't total strangers. They were people that others in town knew from the market or city.

    "Hope you don't mind a roommate," he turns back around and tosses a look your way as he starts to fold his clothing into the unoccupied drawers. And if the air wasn't gone from your lungs by now, it is now. This stranger, Mingi, is the most handsome being you've ever laid your eyes upon.

     His eyebrows are softly arched, beautifully curved nose and lips. And his eyes- oh, his eyes. You swear you could get lost in them. And it seems you do, staring at the man despite the fact your intuition is telling you to look away. "Handsome, I know."

    A heat flushes your face and you force yourself to look away as he smirks your way, "w-well, you know, uh- let me go and fetch Miss Maria, you must be famished!"

     With that, you're down the stairs and out the bar. He watches as you speed walk away through the window, blissfully unaware that he's opened up your drawers to have a deeper look into his roommate.

༄

You dodged the handsome stranger until you no longer could, the sun was setting and there were no more excuses to be found to avoid going back home. He wasn't in the room when you returned, but the bathroom door was closed and you could see the flickering of a candle from the cracks.

    You lit a few candles on the dresser before the sun fully set, taking some deep breaths as you heard him moving around. You remove your boots, a groan of relief settling behind your lips as you wiggle your toes.

    As you're unfolding your night gown, the door to the bathroom creaks open. "Hello, Miss," he greets, much warmer than his earlier aura.

     "Mingi," you greet back with a small smile, "have you found your way around well?" You shift your weight uncomfortably as he tilts his head at you, as if he's trying to read you.

    "Mhm, this ghost town isn't as bad as I thought," he sits down on his bed, rolling his head with a groan.

     "Very good, maybe when the other return you'll find it even better." You can't wait for the day. His presence makes you... uneasy, is the best way to put it. You know he could easily over power you and the others. Elderly, young, and women who don't have a single idea of self defense. Maybe that was stupid on your towns part- but you needed all of the hands on deck to sell the bountiful harvest.

      You excuse yourself and lock the bathroom door behind you, double checking before you begin to remove your day clothes. As you change, you start to wonder if maybe Mingi was just uncomfortable around strangers as well. He's seemed to have warmed up quite a bit to you. You'll have to ask Maria in the morning about their encounter.

     Perhaps he won't be as bad as you expected- "Oh, dear me!" You stumble as you re-enter the room, covering your eyes with your hands. "Uhm, Mingi?"

    "I'm just cleaning my wound," he chuckles, watching you with a glint in his eyes.

      You peek through your fingers, keeping your hands to your face to hide.

    Indeed, he's shirtless. Your eyes hadn't played a trick on you.

      You swallow the gathering wetness in your mouth as you peer at his naked torso. He's slim, toned in all the right places. His arms are something of a dream to you, and you have to force yourself to look away from them as sinful thoughts begin growing in your mind.

    Instead, you take a look at the wound he referred to.  A shallow gash going from his hip around and around to his back. The edges of it are already scarring, leaving only the middle of it as a wound.

You slowly approach the end of his bed, hands resting on the metal bed frame. "May I ask?"

"Every man his enemies. Mine happen to be good with throwing knives."

"Is that why you carry all those weapons?" The question has been nagging you. He has so many. And you don't like them. You don't like that they are in your home. He's left them on his side of the dresser.

"Perhaps." He groans as he tries to reach around and clean the part of the cut that stretches onto his back. "Would... would you be so kind, (Y/n)?"

It's your turn to be the silent type. You move to sit beside him, taking the damp rag and jar of salve with shaking hands. You haven't been this close to him until now. You haven't been this close to any man, really.

He smells shockingly good.

He shivers as you begin cleaning up his wound, and you apologize under your breath.

Unbeknownst to you, that was not a shiver of pain.

He's always been the nosy type. He couldn't help himself but try to get to know you through your belongings while you were gone. And he struck a pot of gold when he found your diary.

The entries dated back seven years. And he read through all seven of them. With every word, he became more and more infatuated with you. And your touch on his body solidified that infatuation. It felt right. Your innocent, helping touch turned his infatuation into something more sinister.

So, no. It was not a shiver of pain.

"There you go," you can't help but stroke the large expanse of his back once you've finished, it's a work of art. Thankfully, he doesn't seem to notice.

But, oh, does he. He has to bite his lip to hold back a moan, looking down at his lap. His member twitching to life from the smallest, most pure of your touches. "Thank you kindly." He forces out, breathily.

You're in your own bed much to quickly for his liking, hiding under your blanket. "Goodnight, Mingi. I shall see you in the morning."

༄

     "Hello, stranger," you smile at him as steps out of the building, earning one back. "Slept well, I hope?"

    "Very, thank you." He takes a seat on the steps of the bar next to you and watches the sun grow higher in the sky. "May I ask you a personal question, (Y/n)?"

     "I suppose so," you shift slightly, toying with the strings on your boots. While your knees are pulled up to the step just below your bottom, his feet stretch all the way off of the steps and onto the dirt.

    "Where is your family?"

    "I'm sorry?"

   "Well... it's just, you're a beautiful young woman. Don't you have a husband and a couple of rug-rats?"

    "Rug-rats," you repeated with a chuckle, shaking your head. "No, no rug-rats."

"And a husband?"

"The closest I have to a husband is Castle... my mutt." You look to him with a bigger smile, your nerves and anxiety around him unwinding. When he laughs, you feel a flutter in your stomach that makes them disappear completely.

You turn back to the sun as it rises, trying to convince yourself that the heat you feel on your cheeks is from the warmness of it. "Why do you ask?"

He hums, leaning back on his elbows and allowing his eyes to flick up and down as they observe you. "Wanted to know my chances."

"Oh!" You look back at him, his eyes shining with that glint once more, "the cow boy is a flirt? I see."

"I'm not a cowboy."

"No?" You lean back and join him, crossing your legs. Maria had told you just earlier that he was strange, that she sensed a darkness about him. But you only felt warmth and light. "What are you then, Mingi?"

"An outlaw." The smirk on his lips makes you think he's joking, and you let out a laugh.

If only you knew that Mingi was being truthful.

༄

      The wagons roll into town the next morning, bright and early. You're still asleep when the first one comes, but the happy hollering from Maria wakes you and Mingi both with a start.

    He's dazed and confused, rolling around and glaring at at ceiling above him. While you, well you nearly jump out of your skin to run downstairs.

     Still in your nightgown and soft socks, you almost slip and fall as you jump off of the last stair and slide into the main area. "Lou!" You collide into him and sway happily as the older man lifts you up in his arms.

"There's my girl! You been holdin' us down?" He sets you down carefully and inspects you, making sure you've been kept safe in his time away.

"You know I have," you give him a wide and toothy smile, "how was the new market?"

"Oh, it was wonderful, dear! Next time I should take you both with me, so many new things," he reaches into his satchel, handing his wife something small and shiney.

Mingi, in his own sleep clothes- a loose pair of pants, slowly descends the stairs, silent as a mouse as he watches the three of you.

Miss Maria, the older woman with a scarf permanently affixed to her head, looks down at the ring with a teary smile. "Oh, Louis, you shouldn't have." You lift yourself up and sit on one of the tables, watching the two kiss with a small smile.

"Why shouldn't I? A man is meant to spoil his wife, isn't that what I always say? Besides, we made quite the profit this time around." His wrinkled hand cups her cheek, and you can't help but coo at their affection.

"Y'all are too stinkin' cute." Maria looks away bashfully, admiring the ring on her hand. While Louis turns to you with a smile, which fades as quickly as it came.

"And who is this?" His hand is on his belt, twitching at his pistol as he spots Mingi coming up behind you. You turn, and then back, moving his hand away from his weapon.

"That's Mingi, he got here a few days ago. A traveler." You don't know if that last part is necessarily true. Mingi never did tell you why he was passing by your isolated town. "He's quite alright."

"He's half naked- and so are you! Young lady-"

"Lou!" Maria is flabbergasted by what he seems to be implying, while you don't seem to see the innuendo. Of course you are? You just awoke.

Mingi stays silent, and simply extends his hand to Louis. When he doesn't take it, he puts it back to his side, joining you at the table. It seems to you that Mingi is indeed weary of strangers. He seems only comfortable with you. Yesterday, he followed you around almost like a lost dog. Insisting that he wanted to help you with your daily chores.

His eyes flick down to your chest. Sure, he's seen you in your nightgown. But that was in the moon or candle light. The sunlight from the many bar windows exposes just how sheer it is. He can see your nipples if he looks hard enough. And, oh, he's looking.

And Louis notices, ears flushing red with anger as the strange traveler looks you up and down. "Alright, dear, go get dressed."

"Oh, but I wish to hear of the market! Unc-"

"Now, (Y/n)."

With a sigh, you slide off of the table, patting Mingis exposed shoulder as you pass him. He goes to follow you back upstairs when Louis grips his wrist. Hard.

Maria is fiddling with her new ring, almost cowering behind her husband as she feels Mingis aura once again. She can't seem to pinpoint why. But she doesn't like this man one bit. He's done nothing to her, to anyone for that matter. But she feels an evilness seep from his gaze.

"Have a seat, Mingi." Louis doesn't seem to like him either. Maybe because of his silent demeanor or the way he was ogling you.

He does so, with a bored expression, plopping down on one of the wooden booths. Louis slides into the booth seat across from him, waving Maria off. She doesn't need to be told twice. She doesn't want to be near that man for one second more than necessary.

Alone in the seating area, the two men stare silently at one another. As if sizing each other up.

Louis is the first one to break, reaching into his pocket. A rusted old locket is slid across the scratched table top, and Mingi catches it before it falls into his lap.

As he opens it up, he sees a picture of two people in either of the slots. One, a woman with a wide smile. The other, a man looking down at the baby held to his chest. Their features seem... familiar.

"Her parents."

He looks up slowly, and sees the older man leaning back, "I'm sorry?"

"Those are her parents. My little sister and her husband. Died seven years ago. Train crash. Hit a cow on the tracks. Hate those damned things. They can't slow down quick enough to avoid hittin' something."

It's silent again, save for the sounds of Maria cooking up a storm in the back of the kitchen.

He looks down at the pictures again. Seven years ago... that's when your diary entries start. But you never mentioned the crash. Did you just decide to forget about it? Move on?

Louis can almost see the cogs turning in his brain as he looks at the worn photo. Before Mingi can ask, Louis is answering. "I seen the way you looked at my little girl. The same way I look at my Maria. So Imma tell you," he points to the locket, "I made a promise the day that train crashed. You know what that promise was?"

"No."

"That I'd gut anyone who ever laid an evil finger on that girl."

"Maria!" They hear you coming back down, and Louis snatches up the locket from Mingis hands as he stands. You stop briefly and look at them, but move on when you see Louis smiling down at him. "Have you seen my vest?" Your voice grows distant as you join your Aunt in the kitchen, unaware that the smile was followed by a threat.

"Don't make me gut you, boy."

༄

"You're so soft," you mutter as you brush the white mare with your fingers, stood just outside of her stable. She neighs loudly at you. "Oh, I know. So many strange horses, you must be frightened."

The once empty stable house was now filled again, everyone was back in town by high-noon. She seems like her owner, and like you. She doesn't like strangers. She nearly kicked the short door down when you approached with a handful of hay.

A few minutes later, she's letting you pet her. You're stood on a stool, bent over the edge of the door to dust the dirt off of her white coat. "You're a sweet girl, huh?" You smile at the animal, receiving more neighs in response.

"Who you talking to?"

The abrupt interruption makes you stumble, nearly falling off of the wobbly stool. You steady yourself on the door and look back, throwing a smile his way when you see it's Mingi. "Your horse."

He joins your side at the door, holding his hand out to his mare. "You know she can't talk back, right?"

"Don't mean she can't listen."

He smiles at your response. You really are a kind soul, giving affection to an animal that can't give you anything in return.

"Busy, Miss (Y/n)?"

You shake your head. Nobody has come by the bar yet, and you don't think anyone will for a while. They're all spending time with their families.

"How about a ride, then?" He's opening up the door before you can respond, making your upper body follow it, legs outstretched to stay on the stool.

"Oh- I don't... I don't know how."

He keeps putting the saddle on the horse despite your words, a smile playing at his lips. By the way your smiling as well, he knows you want to. "I can teach you. Are you afraid?"

     "I must admit... a bit."

    "Don't worry, I won't let you fall."

    "Really?"

    "Mhm."

      You hop down from the stool and move it out of the way as Mingi walks the mare out of her stable, following close behind him with a wide smile. You get a few strange looks from townspeople as you and the towering stranger stop in the middle of the main dirt road.

     One pair of eyes watches you even closer. Louis stands from his rocking chair on the porch of the bar, staring dumbfounded as Mingi picks you up and helps you onto the animal. Jaw dropped as he hops up and sits in the saddle right behind you, hands guiding yours to hold the reigns. Before he can even get off of the porch, the both of you are galloping out of town.

     The cool October air against your face as you slowly gain speed feels freeing, like it's washing your very soul. Your nerves are still shaking a bit, and you lean your back into Mingis chest, holding onto the reigns tightly. You jump ever so slightly when one of his hands rests over your stomach, gently holding you.

     "Don't worry," he says, "I've been riding since I was a child."

And so, you don't worry. You let the freeing feeling wash over you, relaxing into him and letting the mare take you where ever she pleases. Which just so happens to be the furthest you can ever remember being from town. You nearly forget that Mingi is even with you until you feel his hand move away from your stomach.

He grabs the reigns, his hand over yours as he pull her head back carefully, slowing her to a stop in the middle of a field. He pulls your hands back with his and settles them in your lap, atop of your bundled up skirts.

She lowers her head and starts chewing on some of the green grass. You look up at the sky, clear and bright.

"Not so scary, right?" Mingi speaks up gently, his hands never leaving your own as he looks up at the baby blue with you.

"Not at all, though maybe it's because you did all of the work," you let out a small laugh, turning your hands palms up and letting him weave his fingers into yours, enveloping you in warmth. "Is this what your life is like?"

The endless expanse of nature staring back at you, birds chirping their lovely songs.

"For the most part." He doesn't want to tell you about the other parts of his life. The bloody and harsh parts. You don't need to hear about that. Not when you're so pure and soft in comparison.

"I like it. I can see why you don't settle, cowboy."

"I'm not a cowboy."

A grin on both your faces, a comfortable silence overcomes you for a moment. He leans and slowly, almost nervously, rests his forehead on your shoulder. When you don't make a move to lean away, he absolutely melts into you. His heart beating loudly in his ears, he's shocked you haven't looked back to look for a marching band with how loud it is.

"I think I may stay a little while longer," he whispers tenderly into your back.

"I think I may like that."

You revel in each others touch for a few more moments before he moves, scooting back away from your backside. "Let's stretch our legs." Before you can complain, he's jumped off the horse and is holding out his arms for you. Deciding 'why not', you lean over and let him essentially pull you off her back.

You stretch your arms over your head as you wander, smiling back at him.

Oh, he could get addicted to that smile.

Directed at him, and him alone.

He watches with a flicker in his eyes as you start gathering wild flowers, folding up the rim of his hat to get a better look. You start braiding them together, fingers working nimbly. The song of nature overcoming you as you work, and he admires from a few feet away.

You look like an angel, the sun beaming down on you and shining from behind you like a halo as you turn and face him. "Crouch down, big boy," you tease him softly, a heat creeping up your face as you see him blushing.

He leans down, letting you affix the flowers around his hat. When he comes back up, he does a small twirl, "how do I look?"

"Pretty!" It slips your lips before you have the chance to think, and it makes him blush all the harder.

"Let me see," he takes his hat off, short hair wild and blowing with the breeze.

He pulls the hat over your head in the next second, and the large accessory falls over your eyes. He laughs, hand over his mouth as you tilt your head up and peek at him from under the rim. "How do I look?"

"Like a doll," he exclaims breathlessly, eyes not leaving you for a single second as he takes in the sight of you in his hat. The wind blowing your loose hairs and skirts. A shy smile stretching your lips as you look away, admiring the sky as he admires you.

"Oh, hush."

"It's only true." He comes behind you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders loosely.

You have to remember how to breath as he looks over your shoulder at you, shit-eating-smirk on his lips. "Doll~"

"We should head back!" You squeal, ducking out of his arms as heat overwhelms your body. He only laughs, and the melodic sound echoes in the field.

"Alright then, up you get," he hoists you back onto the saddle, hands lingering on your exposed thighs as your skirt pools around your hips while he hooks his boot into the stirrup.

And you're off again, this time slowly. Like he knows that you crave to spend time with him as much as he does you.

༄

It's a few days later when he awakes in the night. The moon his only source of light. His breaths uneven and heavy.

Why did he have to wake up? That dream was ethereal, it nearly made him ascend to the heavens.

He groans as he flips onto his stomach, not a atom of shock in his being as he feels his hardness pressing into the mattress. Not after he just experienced the wettest dream of his life.

You looked like a Goddess below him, head tossed to the side and exposing all of the marks he left on your neck. The bed rocked in time with the yells of his names that left your bruised lips. Over and over. Louder and louder. Your eyes rolled back, your chest rising and falling as you tried desperately to keep up with his pace.

He's certain that's your rightful place, taking his cock and calling his name, soul intertwined with his. "Fuck..." Just six days and you have him wrapped around your little finger. He's never felt like this. You must be the one.

    He can't help but look over at your bed across the room as his hand travels into his pants. His eyes nearly flutter shut, but he forces them open once again.

You're a restless sleeper, he's discovered. Your torso is pressed into the mattress while your hips are rotated slightly up, one leg hiked up and making your nightgown slip past the round of your ass.

God, your subconscious must know what he's doing.

That's the only 'reasonable' conclusion Mingis lustful mind can come to as you moan in your sleep, rolling onto your back and spread your legs to get comfortable. It takes every fiber of self control in him not to pounce on you and take you right there.

He's content to fuck himself silly for the moment, and he's almost ashamed at how fast his release comes- but he can't help it. You look so fucking delectable and he hasn't touched himself since before he rolled into town.

He bites into his pillow with a growl, eyes never leaving your peaceful form until he's overstimulated himself into oblivion. His arm sore and cock even sorer, he finally lets up, breathing heavily into the quiet night.

As he slinks to the bathroom and cleans himself up, he wonders what it would be like to feel your body close to him after such a release. Well-

Why not find out?

He leans over your bed with tears in his eyes, gently grabbing your arm and calling out to you.

"Min?" The nickname that you utter while half asleep almost has him ready to go again, but he pushes it away as you sit up groggily and look at him with concern written on your face.

"I don't feel too well, Doll... Can I sleep with you? Keep me warm?"

You feel his head with the back of your hand, a frown on your face as you feel his heated flesh- unknowing of the true cause.

"Mh, come on, big boy," you scoot to the wall that your beds on and lift your fur blanket, a sleepy smile on your features as he dives into the bed. The metal frame creaks under both of your weight but neither of you pay it any mind.

He melts into your body heat, wrapping his arms around your waist and keeping you close.

It's so much better than he imagined.

༄

That's the best sleep you've ever had. You felt so safe and warm. And Mingi doesn't feel any different, he hasn't had a restful sleep like that since he was only a boy. You seem to have kept his reoccurring nightmares of his past away.

All the damage he's done and all the pain he's endured, wiped away as you rested your head on his shoulder.

Your legs are tangled together, arms wrapped around one another. Your head in his neck and his chin resting gently on top of it. Soft, gentle breaths as the both of you wake.

Rain beats down on the roof, creating a soft and steady melody.

Neither of you can tell how much time has elapsed, but it doesn't seem like it's ever enough. So when you finally sit up, a pout forms on his features.

You feel his forehead, a smile on yours. "No fever."

"Hm, maybe a night bug." He sits up and swings his legs over the bed, facing into the room to hide his growing blush as the memories of his dream flood his mind.

He feels the bed shift under your weight as you crawl up behind him. "I had a dream last night," you whisper as you gently rub up his back.

"Mh?"

"Mhm." Your heart flutters as you muster up the courage to continue speaking, "a dream of you and I."

"Oh, do tell."

And tell, you do.

"Well... it began with you and I, sat in the bar. A few too many drinks in our bodies. A few kisses... A few touches... and then we came up here." His breath hitches in his throat, surely he's still dreaming. This is an elaborate trick of the brain. "Mingi?"

"Y-yes?" He wants to both explode with joy and collapse with embarrassment.

"Will you touch me? Will you kiss me? I'm sorry if that's wildly inappropriate- oh it is, I'm so ter-"

Your rambling is cut off as his lips collide with yours ever so softly. One of his hands cups your cheek, the other finds purchase on the small of your back.

He slowly pushes his weight onto you, laying you down on your back as your lips meld together. A curse falls past his lips as you ghost your fingertips over his abs.

He kisses down your jaw, savoring every inch of your skin until he reaches your covered breasts. He looks up, and the look in his eyes makes the heat in your belly grow ten-fold. "Can I see you?"

With the slightest nod of your head, he's slipped the straps of your nightgown down and tugged it down past your chest. His mind is racing. His heart is about to beat out of his chest. "You're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen." He whispers, voice rough and barely heard over the storm raging outside.

His calloused hands trail down your chest, ghosting over the pebbled flesh on your breast and down to your skirt. You can't help the gasp that escapes you when he lifts it up, letting your entire nightdress rest in a bunch on your stomach. He's already panting, and he hasn't even touched you.

You're just so beautiful. You're a Goddess in his eyes.

He smiles up at you as he lowers himself, your legs spread by his wide shoulders. "I'm going to make you cum your brains out, Doll~"

Before you can even question what he means, his tongue is darting out and swiping up the length of your cunt. "Ah!" Your back is arched off the bed at the simple motion, and it solidifies his theory that you're a virgin. Your keening at the littlest bit of attention, your poor neglected pussy is begging for more.

You slap your hand over your mouth at the noise, looking shocked that it even came from you. He can't help the chuckle that vibrates in his throat- that is, before his taste buds register the most delicious, mind blowing juice he's ever had the pleasure of putting in his mouth. "Oh, fuck..." Then he's just as flustered as you are, diving back in between your thighs like a man starved.

     The little noises that manage to slip past your hand urge him on even more than the way that your wetness just keeps coming and coming and coming as he slurps it all up. His tongue darts and licks and rolls all over you, and you can't even register all of the pleasure you're getting from it- it feels that good.

     He slips his arms under your thighs and grips them tightly to ground himself as he allows himself to drown in you. He lets his instincts do all of the work, enjoying himself more than he ever has. His nose nudges against your clit as he slurps noisily.

     The way you taste. The way you smell. The way you sound. The way you feel.

     All of it. All of you. He's going mad with lust. With love. He's going to explode, he truly believes it. And then you call his name.

      "Mingi—"

    So sweet and desperate, absolute music to his red hot ears as he sucks the bundle of nerves above your sopping wet heat. He doesn't even register that you've cum all over his chin until youre tugging at his hair roughly and forcing him away from your throbbing pussy.

     He moans out loud as you harshly pull him away, jaw dropped as he pants. "You taste so good, Doll," he slurs drunkenly. Your essence has gotten him drunker than any alcohol ever could.

     You're panting even heavier, chest rising and falling quickly as you tremble in the aftershocks of your first orgasm that's come from another person. 

     He rubs his finger tips over your thighs gently, luring you back down to Earth as he gawks at you. You swear that there's hearts in his shining eyes.

     "W-" your attempt at words comes out as jumbled whine, and you let yourself fall back into the pillow.

     "It's okay, Baby," he coos, licking his lips as he sits up, folding his legs under him and pulling your limp hips into his lap.

     The new nickname makes your cunt twitch, and he catches it. "Oh, you like that, hm?" His index and middle finger spread you wide, and he purses his lips- spitting directly onto your sensitive hole. "C'mon, talk to me, pretty Baby."

      "G-god!" You cry out embarrassedly, forever thankful for the angry storm outside that hides your sounds from any neighbors. "Yes, I do, I really do," you draw out, grabbing the sides of his thighs as he teases your entrance. You're still hyper sensitive, twitching with every small movement he makes.

    And he absolutely revels in it.

    "Yeah? I bet no one ever made you feel that good before," he smirks, letting another wad of spit hit your hole.

     "Nuh-uh," you shake your head, peering up at him, and your next words make it hard for him to keep his composure. "Stay. Stay here and- and fuck me."

     Little do you know, after that first night- he lost any plans he had of ever leaving.

"I will never leave you," and he means it. He has no plans of ever letting you go. And he's about to let you know that.

       He slides you back off his lap and lays over you, holding your head with one hand as the other guides his leaking tip into you. "Oh, ngh," you whine, holding onto his biceps tightly. He bites his lips as he feels your walls for the first time. So warm and tight around him. So soft. "M-min, be gentle," you whimper, leaning up and hiding in his chest.

     "Don't worry, Doll, we'll go slow" he strokes your head gently, slowly -oh, so slowly- sinking into your tight core. "Such a pretty little thing, so fuckin' tight f'me," he growls, and again as the noise makes you clench around him. "Gonna have to stretch your little pussy out before I can even move, you've got me in a fucking vice, Baby."

       "Mingi, d-don't talk like that, it's dirty," you pant into his chest, the warm air making goosebumps form.

     "Well, look at you," he nearly purrs, pulling your head back from his chest gently, "look." You blink a few times, taking in the sinful scene.

    Your legs spread around his slowly moving hips. His thick monster of a cock gradually disappearing into your stretched folds.

     "Can't not be dirty while we're breaking in this cute little cunt," he says matter-of-factly, looking down at said cunt while it clenches around the half of his cock that's he's managed to sink in. A lewd moan leaves his parted lips, looking back to you as you whimper and fidget. "Hey, hey," he coos, cupping your face in his palms. "Half way there, Doll. How's it feel?"

     "Like you're gonna split me in half," you ramble out, looking up at him with the softest eyes he's ever seen. "Please, c-can we take a break? You're jus' so big..."

     "Of course, sweet girl," he leans down, careful to keep his hips locked despite how badly he just want to slam into your welcoming heat, and kisses you. Stroking your cheek bones with his thumbs. "You feel so good, like heaven." 

    The praise makes your rapidly beating heart skip a beat. "Mingi?"

    "Yes," he moans in response, looking deep into your eyes.

    "I think I'm falling in love with you." The sudden confession makes his cock twitch, his heart jumping into his throat. "Is that silly?"

     He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, which are admittedly a chaotic mess.

    "If it is, we would be silly together."

     "You mean-"

    "Yes."

    You grip his shoulders and lean up, pressing your lips to his in an act of pure desire. The both of you get lost in each other, tongues darting out and lapping at one another like a lifeline.

    Sufficiently covered in each others spit, you pull back. "Keep going, I want to take all of you." You have a newfound confidence after your short trade of admissions, demanding that he go on and fuck you.

      A few more moments of excruciating stretching pass when you suddenly feel his pelvis flush with your clit, both of you panting like wild animals as you feel each other completely.

     "Holy shit, Baby," he sneers, resting his face in the crook of your neck, taking in deep breaths of your scent to keep himself from jack hammering into you. You are truly the best thing to ever happen to him, and your cunt molding into the shape of him is just a bonus.

      There are no words that you can find in your brain. All if it is wiped away as you feel his rock hard cock stretching you out, filling you wall to wall. When he breaths out, a content sigh into your neck, you feel the veins on his length pressing into your gummy walls. "Hah~" Is all you can manage, thoughts turned into mush as he begins to slowly pull back out- just an fraction of an inch. Before sliding back in quickly. "Fuck!"

     "Doll, please, please," he whimpers, holding onto your waist tightly as he rolls his hips, "please say you're ready, I don't know how long I can take it."

    "Y-" the second the first syllable is utter from your lips, he's already pulled out half way, "yes!" He thrust back in, steady and slow at first.

Words are lost between you - minds absolutely flooding with hormones as he begins thrusting harder, faster. Moans, groans, loud whimpers. The slapping of your skin is so loud that even the rain pounding at the window can't drown it out.

He's stuffing you beyond your wildest imagination. His cock was made to stretch you so deliciously, and your pussy was made to take it.

It's his dream coming to life, quite literally, as your eyes roll back to the depths of your head and you're squeezing him tighter than before. It's almost impossible for him to keep thrusting, but he finds a way.

He grips your hips tight and is making you bounce on his cock effortlessly, all the while pounding his hips into yours. He's so deep inside of you, it feels like he can feel the same coil in your gut that you do. And it's about shatter.

He slips a hand down and begins swirling his fingers over your clit, pushing you off the edge roughly, making you cream over his member with a broken yell of his name. He leans in, all of his weight on you as fucks you through it harshly. His lips right next to your ear.

"You. Are. Mine."

And with that, a warmth like no other spreads inside of you.

༄

Nearly two months passed like they were nothing, days seemed to fly with you by his side.

     He felt he finally had a place where he belonged.

    He found himself work cleaning peoples guns in the bar, even selling and trading some.

    He had a bed to go to at the end of the day. After that first time together, you both rearranged the room. Pushing your beds together under the window and putting the dresser on the wall.

     He had the other half of his soul. You. He knew everything there was to know about you, and you knew everything there was to know about him. Well- all he was willing to tell. Sometimes, there was a dark glint in his eyes that made you feel like you didn't know the full story of the man you shared your life with. But all doubt faded away when he smiled at you.

     All was well- more than well. It was perfect.

      Until a group of strangers rode into town. Strangers to the town. But strangers to Mingi, they were not.

     He walked into the bar and Mingis heart stopped. He saw all of his hard work to get you, to settle, to make a life- all of it- vanish. It disappeared.

     "Fuck me," he groans, keeping his head low and cursing himself for not wearing his hat today. He hopes that he'll go unnoticed. But that hope is squashed when the man slides into the booth across from him.

     "Well, slap my ass and call me Pamela. Song Mingi!" The rowdy man immediately catches Louis' attention from behind the bar.

     "Why are you here, Buck?" Mingi keeps his tone low, hostile.

   "You know why I'm here. You want in?" The man, Buck, has a smirk playing mischievously on his lips.

     "No. You, and whoever else you drug into this town are leaving. This town is off limits."

     Buck lets out a shrill chuckle, "says who?"

     "Says me. This is my town. Get the fuck out before I shoot you." Mingi growls, placing his pistol on the table, finger twitching at the trigger.

      That gets Louis' full attention, his hand immediately unlocking the safety on his gun as he makes his way over. "Mingi, who's your friend?" He hates to admit, but he's grown fond of Mingi over these long winter days.

     "He's leaving. Ain't that right?" Mingi tilts his head at Buck, who takes a look around. Multiple patrons of the bar have their hands on their guns, ready to draw.

     He isn't stupid. Mingi is apart of these people now and they'll protect him.

    "Yeah, that's right." He slides out of the booth, giving Mingi a seemingly innocent smile. But Mingi knows him all too well. "I'm glad you finally found yourself a nice girl to settle down with."

      With that finally threatening congratulations, he's back out the bar the way he came. Mingi watches from the window with wide eyes as he joins the posse of men outside. As soon as they start wandering away, looking into shops and other such buildings Mingi has come to be so fond of, he snaps into action.

    He runs up the stairs, nearly bumping his head. They've been casing the town, that's the only way he'd know about you.

      "Mingi!" Louis follows after him, slowed by age.

     He finds him reaching under the bed, staring bamboozled as he places gun after gun after gun into the mattress. "Mingi!"

      He ignores the panicking man, loading all of them up. "Son!" His head snaps up, tears threatening his waterline.

      "Louis, they're going to raid the town."

"What...?"

"I don't have time to explain, I have to go- go get (Y/n). You need to gather everyone who knows how to shoot. I n-"

"Boy, I don't care much for nonsense."

"Listen to me, Louis!" He clearly panicked, an expression he's never seen from him before. "What reason do I have to lie? This is my home too! This is my home and my woman, and I'll be damned if I let Buckey fuck-face and his thugs ruin it!" In his panic, Mingi doesn't notice the ring that falls from his bag as he gets out more ammunition.

Louis bends down next to Mingi and picks it up, puzzle pieces falling together in his mind.

Mingi snatches it back and shoves it in the bag.

"You're gonna propose to my little girl?"

"Not if we all die," Mingi responds shortly, shoving an armful of guns into Louis.

   They share a look.

    It seems Mingi made a similar promise to himself about you.

"Go and fetch her, don't raise any suspicion. If the townspeople know what's coming, it'll start a panic."

Mingi gives him a short nod. To say yes, sir. To say thank you.

He keeps his head down, hat covering his face as he weaves his way to the very back of the town. Trying his damnedest to avoid everyone from his past.

When he successfully makes it to the river, he spots you and is filled with relief.

    You hum quietly to yourself, bundled up in his large poncho to protect yourself from the frigid January weather as you clean your clothes.

    The harsh winds whip your loose hairs around, makes the clothes on the line flap loudly.

"(Y/n)!"

"Hey, Darlin-" He pulls you up, holding you close to his side as he drags you away, "what're you doing?"

"Just keep your head down, when we get back to the bar, go to our room, lock yourself in the bathroom. Okay?"

"Min, you're scarin' me..."

"Do you understand?" He asks firmly, stopping at the edge of town, turning you to face him.

He looks deadly serious. You haven't seen this kind of look since the first day you met. So you nod, committing what he said to memory.

"I love you," he kisses you deeply, shortly.

And then he drags you through town, and into the bar. But he pushes you right behind him when you walk in.

Buck has Miss Maria and Louis tied up, pushed to the floor. The few patrons are gone, and the yelling outside tells him Louis' plan to keep things calm has failed. Multiple men are rummaging around the bar, cleaning out the register. He can't hear any noise above them, and he's thankful that the entrance to your small home is so well hidden by the corner. 

     He feels you grip the back of his leather jacket, and he's about to turn and tell you to run when he feels you get ripped away.

     Your scream echos in the building as one of Bucks men tears you away, and Mingi has to stop himself from shooting the man the second he puts his hands on you. Doing that will just get you all killed.

He's deadly silent as he watches the man toss you to the floor. His gun was drawn the second you got tore away, and he's itching to use it.

You try to scramble away, but Buck comes up behind you and places his boot on your back, shoving you back down with a thud. Maria is sobbing uncontrollably into her hands, Louis' jaw is locked in anger as he looks away.

He bends down, putting more pressure on your spine. He grips your hair and turns your face to the side. "Well, well," he smirks, "you're even prettier up close, ain't you?"

Everyone stops in their tracks as you spit in his face. "Fuck you!" One of the men closest to you has a gun to your head in the next second, but you refuse to break.

"Feisty, I like that," he shoves your head to the floor, hitting it against it roughly. Mingi is seeing red as the world around him resumes, men ransacking the bar and chortling at your family. His family.

      "Buck."

   "Oh?" He turns, leaving you on the floor, "got something to say, pansy?"

     "Yeah." His eyes flick to yours as you push yourself up dizzily, and over to one of the booths before Buck even realizes he's looked away. "You need a key for the safe. I gonna give it to you, and youre gonna take it and leave."

     "Is that so? That's what's gonna happen?"

   "That's what's gonna happen."

   "You really lost your guts, aye? Found a nice girl and a cozy town and decided you're too good for this life, I see."

    Mingi slips his pistol back into its holster on his hip, sauntering over to the bar with all eyes on him. He stands infront of Maria and Louis, shielding them from what's about to come. "You see it how it is, then." He lifts up the pot of dying chrysanthemums in the middle of the wooden island and scoops up the key. His eyes spot you curling up under the booth he glanced at. Thank goodness you got the message.

      Cause shit is about to hit the fan.

    He tosses the key to Buck, and as his hands raise up to catch it-

     He puts a bullet in his brain.

     You can't help the scream that rips past your lips, covering your ears and hiding your face in your knees.

    As the men behind the bar start shooting at him, he ducks, shielding the older couple as the men infront of them begin firing. But he's too quick. Only one of them gets close, grazing his shoulder and stunning him briefly. He drops his pistol and takes the larger gun off of his back, propping it up over the island blindly and spraying the rest of the men in a hail of bullets.

     And then all is silent.

    With a heavy heart, you look up from your lap. The building is covered in blood, light seeps in from the holes in the walls caused by stray bullets. Maria is crying silently. Louis is looking at Mingi in shock as he falls onto his backside, holding his bleeding shoulder. 

     "What the hell was that, boy?"

     "That was me saving your ass."

༄

    Mingi and Louis, with the help of a few good samaritans, cleared the bodies out of the bar and drug them to the outskirts of town. Leaving them for the coyotes and bears. If it were up to him, Mingi would have hung them up as an example.

     Maria, seemingly in shock, scrubs the floor with a blank face as you fix up the register and dig out all of the bars belongings from the bandits bags.

     You feel a roll of papers at the bottom of one of the bag. A silent hum of amusement leaves you as you see what it is. They kept their own wanted posters. Proud of what they've done. You flip through them. Maybe out of morbid curiosity of who your boyfriend just gunned down.  And then you get to one who you know wasn't a victim.

     Because he was the gunner.

    Mingis face in a sketch stares up at you.

    WANTED.

    DO NOT APPROACH. ALERT THE AUTHORITIES.

 DANGEROUS FUGITIVE. SONG MINGI.

    The door to the bar swings open.

   The world spins around you as you look up from the drawing. And come face to face with it, brought to life.

    "Mingi..."

    "Are you okay, Doll?"

   You can't seem to find any words that describe the way your heart is breaking. Louis approaches you first, his own heart stopping as he sees what's held in your trembling hands. He tears it from you, glaring down like it's a hallucination.

    "Who are you?" Is all you can manage to whisper, backing away with a grip on your uncles sleeve as Mingi steps forward.

     "What is that?" He nods to the paper, although deep down he has an idea of what it is.

   Maria snaps out of her trance, joining your side, a gasp leaving her lips as she looks back and forth from the paper to Mingi.

     "You get out of here, you never show your face in this town again," Louis grips the man's collar and pulls him to his level, "You're lucky my girls are watching or I'd hold true to my promise."

     Mingi shoves him away and grabs the paper from Maria, his worst thoughts come true as he sees himself staring back at him.

     "Wh..." He trails of in a whisper, heart breaking into a million pieces as you look at him fearfully. Like you did the first time you met. He thought he'd never have to see that look again. "(Y/n), please, hear me out."

     Maria holds you to her chest as he approaches. "I knew I sensed evil in you, boy." She bares her teeth at him as she seethes, like a wild mother bear.

"Leave," your voice trembles, raw with all of the emotions that are flooding you. You lean further into your aunts arms as he reaches out for you. "You lied to me! I never want to see you again! I ought to turn you in!"

    "You have to believe me, I'm not like that anymore. Baby, listen! I only did what I had to to survive, you don't understand. I'm not like them!" He fights against Louis as he drags him to the door. "Please, I love you!" He's thrown off the porch, only getting a glimpse of you as you crumble to the floor before the door is slammed in his face.

༄

Mingi drapes his mare's reigns over a poll, trudging through the snow until he's at a familiar door.

He doesn't bother knocking. He barges in and stares down at the man at the desk.

"Mingi, long time no s-"

"I have a job for you." He slaps down a wad of cash, "more where this came from when you're done."

The man sighs, but takes the cash, thumbing through it. "And why don't you do it?"

Mingi ignores the question. "Louis and Maria Donelley. Shoot them, make it quick. (Y/n) (L/n). Tie her up on the tracks."

He hesitates for a moment. But in the end, "More where this came from, huh?"

༄

     It's been three days since Mingi has gone away. Rather, since he was forced away by his past and your reaction to it.

     You've slept for most of that time. Cried the rest. You barely eat. Barely talk. You hardly even move off your side of the once-shared bed.

    Maria, Louis, all of your friends tried to comfort you. Telling you that he was just a fling. That the one for you will come around and make all of the pain Mingi left disappear.

     They don't know that Mingi was the one.

     He made you so happy. Happier than you'd ever been. He made everything seem... right.

     "Hey, Dear," Louis knocks at the wall, slowly coming ascending into the room.

     "I don't want the soup, Uncle Lou..."

     "Auntie!" Ellis comes barreling past Louis and jumps onto the bed, hugging you tightly.

     "Ellis? Hey, Buddy!" You force a smile as you hug him back, sitting up with a groan and holding the child in your lap. "How you been?"

      Ellis goes on and on about what the new teacher from the city is teaching his class, a big smile on his face. Louis sees the smile pulling at your lips in the slightest, and he excuses himself silently.

     He, admittedly, is a very good distraction from your pain.

You spend quite a few hours playing with him, catching up on the things that are going on in town. He drops the ball onto the jacks and giggles loudly as it rolls away, under the bed. "I'll get it, set us up another round."

You bend down and feel around for it blinding, heart skipping a beat as you feel Mingis bag. You haven't found the courage to touch any of his things, even if to throw them away.

You move away from it and grip the ball, rolling it back to Ellis. "El, I'm feeling a bit tired, why don't you come back tomorrow."

"Aw... okay! I'll bring Violet and we can play outside!"

"See you then, Kiddo," you ruffle his hair as he passes you to leave.

It was a nice break from your sorrows while it lasted.

You crawl back into your half of the bed as the sun sets in the window above it, pulling Mingis pillow into your arms as you sob yourself to sleep once again.

Deep into the night, you feel the bed dip. You open your eyes with the littlest inkling of hope that Mingi has returned despite your harsh words his way.

But you're only met with a stranger.

You open your mouth to scream, but only get a small squeak out before you are met with a hit on the head.

༄

You awake as your body is tossed into the air, a loud groan leaving you as you collide with something hard. Through your blurry vision, you can see the moon high above you.

You look to the side, and you put two and two together that you're in a wooden cart as you see the stranger from above your bed riding on a horse that's got you attached to it. "Hey-" You croak out, getting his attention.

"Morning!" He yells, making you wince. You have a splitting headache. "Just in time for the show," he mumbles under his breath, pulling the horse to a stop.

You can hear him shuffling around in the snow, and you try to sit up before you realize you can't. Your entire body is tied in a thick rope.

The back of the cart opens up, and you try -you try so hard- to shimmy away as he reaches in and grabs your foot. But to no avail.

      He pulls you from the cart and lets you fall into the snow. It wets the back of your nightgown and hair, soaks your thin socks and makes you shiver. You don't think you've ever been this scared. Even during the shootout, Mingi was there to protect you.

      You watch with a fresh set of tears brewing in your eyes as you watch the man double knot some ropes onto the tracks. "Oh my God..."

      He ignores as you begin to beg for your life, telling him all sorts of things about you to try and make him sympathetic. "- and his name is Louis, he took me in when my parents died! Uncle Lou and Aunt Maria, please! She'd die of heartbreak!" He scoffs, knowing she's already dead. So is Uncle Lou.

    He followed Mingis request and made it quick.

       He pulls you by your binds to the tracks, the metal on the tracks is the coldest thing you've ever felt and it makes you yelp. You cry out in the night as he begins tying the ropes on the tracks to the ropes on your body.

    "Please, why are you doing this?!" Your voice shook with pure horror, tugging at the ropes that were wrapped around your entire body and tied to the tracks by the bandit. He crouched down at your feet and smirked, his simple answer making you cry all the harder.

     "Why not?"

   All of your pleas and prayers fall to deaf ears as the man turns away and to his cart, rummaging in his chest. The tracks begins to shake and you begin to except your fate. You turn your head to the side and watch the pebbles rumble, your sobs visible in puffs of air as you exhale into the harsh winter air.

    A loud thud and a groan makes you look back, and you see a tall figure on a familiar white horse.

    "Mingi!" He drops the crowbar he used to whack the man as he rode past.

    He looks back at you briefly- his face hidden by his droopy hat. But you can tell he's pissed. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense before a gunshot rings out and he ducks and rolls off of Mare, slapping her to make her run away as he draws his own gun.

    Between the rattling of the tracks and the thrumming of your heart, you can barely force yourself to watch as he approaches the man bravely, your eyes flicking from them to the horizon repeatedly. A sob of his name makes him pause for a split second before he comes back to his body.

    "Too close," Mingi scowls at the man, using his gun to smack his hand and make him drop his, kicking it away as he scrambles for it.

    "Aye, man, I did what yo-"

    "Too close."

    "Just give me my mon-"

       His gun smokes by his side in the next second as the man drops to the desert floor dead. He takes a moment to bask in the way the blood pools in the pure white snow before the steam whistle catches his attention.

      "Mingi, please!" He drops everything and runs to the tracks, crawling over your body and looking at your binds frantically. "Mingi, oh my God, please- I'm so sorry! Please untie me, hurry," you babble on in a panic as the train appears just over the horizon, sobs wracking you body under his as he tugs at the ropes.

     Your horror breaks his heart, but he knows it's necessary. He knows he has a knife strapped to his back, but he plays the panic card and 'forgets' as he forces a false worry onto his face. He won't let anything happen to his Doll, but you're too caught up in your fight or flight to remember that.

    "I got you, I got you," he murmurs as he pulls the ropes on one of your sides undone, taking his sweet time with the other as he watches the train grow ever closer- the conductor blaring the horn.

     Your free hand grasps at him, clawing at his leather jacket, eyes wide and soaked with tears as you stare down your death as it barrels towards you. Just a few feet away.

    Mingi yanks you up and falls to the ground besides the tracks with you on top of him, hands roughly holding you to his chest as his hat blows away with the wind that the train creates. You willingly slump into him, sobbing into his warm chest as the tracks rattle loudly besides you, drowning out your cries.

     He relishes in the way you cling to him well after the train passes, not daring move away from your savior as you cry your heart out and ramble on to him about how you're so sorry and how you never would have really turned him in and on and on until he silences you with a tender hug.

    He knows all of this. His Doll would never betray him. But it's best that he get a subconscious message through your thick, naive, skull early on.

   The message being: the attempt to leave him has failed miserably. Why even try to leave when he's so clearly your fate?

༄

Mingi locks the bar door behind him as he carries you into the building. He kicks off his boots. He knows you hate the mess.

    It was silent the entire way back to town.

And it remains that was as he carries you up the stairs and to bed. He doesn't even acknowledge you as he gets you some clean, dry clothes.

"Mingi..."

He sighs, shoulders dropping.

"I'm s-"

"I thought you hated me?"

"Min... I was just- just in shock! Why didn't you tell me you were... an outlaw?"

He kneels at the bed and slips your socks off, replacing them with a warm, thick pair.

The moonlight seeps in through the sheer curtains and paints your skin in a haze of blue. The bruise on your temple like a water color bloom.

"Because I was afraid." He bites his lip as it trembles. That's the plain truth. He was afraid you'd leave if you found out all the things he'd done. But now that you know, he still doesn't plan on letting you leave. "Please forgive me, Doll."

He lowers his head into your lap and smirks as he feels your hand rest on his hair.

"Come back home, Mingi."

"Really?" He looks up with the most puppy like gaze you've ever seen.

You nod, wiping your tears away, "I don't care what the others have to say. We can leave this place if we have to, I just need to be with you, M-" His lips collide onto yours as he pounces on you, pushing you onto the bed and nipping at your lips like he's starved. And he is, because-

"I missed you so fucking much, Doll," he growls into your lips, melting into you as you wrap your arms around him. It feels like it's the first time in forever, and it is to him.

"I love you, Mingi," you whisper as you look up at him, chasing after him as he sits up on his knees.

     He lifts your ruined nightgown, looking down at you as if you're a work of art as he tosses it away. "I love you," he whispers back, cupping your breast in his warm, big hands. "I love you so much it hurts."

You lay back with a moan, arching into his touch. Your mind is so fried from this weeks events, all you want to do is disappear into him.

     And you let it be know. "Take your clothes off." You tug at his buckled belt with an utterance, licking your lips at the sight of his happy trail. "Show me how much you missed me. Show me how much you love me."

     Your sultry words have him undressing in a hurry,  slamming his pistol down on the nightstand he made and kissing you deeply as he removes his belt, heart beating rapidly as you cup his cheeks to bring him closer.

     You're the closest to heaven he's ever been. Kissing down his neck and stroking his back. He doesn't know how or why this infatuation grew into something wild and untamable. And frankly, he doesn't care.

       You are quickly working to undress his top half while he kicks his pants away, letting his larger gun clatter to the floor. You no longer care if he leaves them out. You just want him home.

      "I was so worried about you, Baby," he pants, "I know I hurt you. I'm so sorry," he places kiss after kiss after kiss on your face, rubbing your thighs as he slides between them. "I love you. I adore you. I want you. I'm yours. You're mine." Every statement is accompanied by a kiss.

      "I'm so sorry, Min," you look deep into his eyes as he rubs his member on your wetness, "you're my one and only. I don't care what you've done to get here. As long as I have you in my arms. As long as I'm in yours."

     He hugs you tightly, forehead against yours as he slips inside of you. "I will never leave you," he moans out, settling deep inside of you as you pant and whine.

    You've taken him quite a few times at this point, but never like this.

    He always takes his time sinking into you, reveling in the slow stretch.

    But not tonight. Not after what you've been through. He needs to feel you, and now.

     He needs to feel your emotional connection on a physical plane. And so do you. That's why you don't stop him or push him away as he lowers into you quickly.

     You ground yourself by wrapping your arms under his and gripping his shoulders, careful of his healing wound.

     His chest against yours, heart beats drumming together as you try to disappear into each others being.

    Affectionate touches are left all over the both of your bodies. Tender kisses and promises of love.

    "You're all I ever wanted," you whisper into his chest as he starts a languid pace. "I want to be yours, tell me I'm yours."

"You're mine, Doll, all mine." He speaks ever so softly, cradling your head to his chest. He can't believe how lucky he's gotten.

"Make me believe you, show me I'm yours."

And he does.

     God knows how or why Song Mingi has so much stamina, but no amount of time passed stops him from pounding into you, he stops when he thinks you've had enough.

     He's made you cum seven times through the night, and with the sun beginning to rise out the window, he's still at it.

     Its been hours, and his pace hasn't slowed one bit. If anything, your pants and whines stir him on and he almost hammers into you. The quick in and out rhythm makes him moan. Your heat encasing him as the cold winter air seeps in through the walls that makes him want to bury himself in your body and never leave.

    He knows he's big. He's so big and you're small compared to him. But he doesn't care when he's balls deep in your sore and swollen pussy. He makes you take it to the base and chuckles deeply when you try and crawl away.

    "Min- can't take it," you sob, but that doesn't stop him.

    He grips your hips roughly and pulls your clit flush to his pelvis, holding you there as you squeal out, banging your fists onto your shared bed.

     "Fuck you can't, your pussy was made for me to stretch out." His next thrust sends your hips into the mattress, finally able to rest your exhausted body as he plunges into you from behind.

      Each rough thrust wipes away every thought from your mind until it's all Mingi.

   Mingi is so deep.

   Mingi is so thick.

   Mingi fucks you so good.

   Mingi treats you so good.

   Mingi loves you.

   Mingi.

   Mingi.

      "Mingi!" You moan out loudly into the pillows as you seize up, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cum all over him. Vision dark and blurry, drooling all over the place, barely conscious after your eighth orgasm around his massive girth.

     He's panting and growling into your ear, continuing to thrust. He's relentless. He's really out to break you.

      "Please," you slur, wracking your slush of a brain for a way to get him to cum. You love him, and you love fucking him. But he just won't stop until he cums. And he won't cum until you essentially force him. He's so hell bent on making you get there, he forgets about himself, like he's outside of his own body. And he's extra determined after almost losing you. Your usual tricks haven't worked. So you pull out the big guns. "Please, Min... put a baby in me." Oh, you know him all too well. He's made multiple comments about how good you are with children. How pretty you'd look with that pregnancy glow, your belly round with his baby.

    "F-fuck, Doll," it seems as if that is enough to satisfy his hunger, slamming his tip into your womb and filling you with his warm and sticky seed so much that it splashes back on him and makes a mess of his lower stomach.

Still buried deep inside of you, uncaring of the mess, he lays ontop of your back gently and wraps his arms around your shoulders, his head next to yours. You shaking breaths and trembling legs calmed by his warmth over your entire body.

     "Holy fucking shit," you whimper, making him chuckle quietly.

     He places a gently kiss to your shoulder, "I didn't go to hard, did I?"

    "You did... but I liked it."

    He smiles as he rests his head, hands rubbing up your arms and to your hands, intertwining yours fingers. "I love you." He states. Loud and proud. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I want to share everything with you and I don't want to keep anything from you. I want you all to myself. Will you marry me?"

    The words almost get lost in translation on their way to your endorphin flooded mind, and your silence makes him nervous. That is until- he sees the giant smile spreading on your lips. "Yes."

"Oh, thank goodness," he sighs a breath of relief followed by a soft laugh.

    "But you'd better get me a ring," you joke, groaning out as he slowly pulls out of your abused core. There's a smirk on his lips that you can't quite place as he gently turns you on your back and helps you get comfortable.

     He reaches under the bed and grabs his bag. "You didn't-"

    "I did," he has his signature shit-eating-grin on his face as he takes it out. A dainty, pretty, thing. Much like he sees you.

      He cuddles into your side, fur blanket draped over your lower halves. Calloused and rough hands take yours. Gently and loving with you. Their past of violence is lost as he slides the ring onto your finger tenderly.

     "Mrs. Song."

༄

[sleep-0-deprived]

Hey could you write Yandere William Afton x male reader plz and thank u for ur time 🥰🙏

Yandere William afton x male reader head cannons

Omg I’m soo excited for the new Fnaf movie I’ve been a Fnaf since 2014 but anyway I basically did head cannons and there is a NSFW section also sorry it took me so long and I hope you enjoy ;]

Female aligned dni 18+ only blog

One word describes William “possessive” this man is a murderer and he has and will kill for you if needed

William loves you watch you do things around the house and loves to tease you a lot

William loves it when you lay on his chest, it makes him happy but he will never tell you that

William will legit stalk you for weeks before he makes a move and if it’s a forceful one is up to you

Any past or present partner ends up dead or missing because he won’t let anybody get between you two

When William and you do eventually end up together he is very controlling about who you talk to and where you go while telling you “I’m only helping darling”

William always ends up walking in on you when your changing and claims “it was an accident”

NSFW

William definitely likes to see you fucked out and under his control even to the point where you are begging him to let you cum

William has a breeding kink and a thing for pet names like baby boy, doll, darling etc. One time during sex you called him daddy and he went feral demanding you do it again

When the two of you fuck William will degrade you like crazy he will fuck you like your life depends on it and will cum inside you over and over again until your stomach is full and bloated

William isn’t always rough with you during sex if he feels like it he can be more slow and sensational with you

Hates quickies because he loves taking his time with you and fucking you for hours

Like I said before William loves walking in on you and he does it when you shower too, it always leads to passionate shower sex

After sex you have so many bruises hickeys and bite marks because of William and you can hardly walk

William defiantly invented a fucking machine and tried it out on you while watching you plea for him to fuck you as the machine brings many over simulated orgasms

[biting-miguel-ohara]

T-Shirts - Wade Wilson x ftm!Reader

A/N: I had so much fun writing this. I really hope Wade’s personality is in-character. I tried to keep the silly goofy vibes he has along with the pet names, but it’s been a while since I saw a Deadpool movie other than DP&W

Fic is written for this request

CW: Pet names; Reader is called baby boy, baby, and handsome; mentions of stabbing and murder; light fluff; suggestive content; explicit sexual content; smut; this is really just sex with a little bit of buildup; Wade is implied to be physically bigger than Reader; mild implied possession kink; Wade wears lingerie; sloppy kisses; AFAB Reader but their parts are called dick and hole; Reader’s arousal is described as slick; Wade eats the Reader out; overstimulation; multiple orgasms; fingering; PIV sex; unprotected sex; crying during sex; rough sex; Reader bites Wade hard enough to bleed; Wade cums inside Reader; Wade uses his fingers to keep the cum inside; aftercare; implied round two; snuggling

1730 words

“Oh, baby boy!” Wade’s voice rings out as he kicks open the door to your shared apartment.

You look up, smiling. “Hi, Wade.”

He waltzes over to you and plops himself down next to you on the couch. “Whatcha watchin’?”

You gesture at the TV, but can tell he’s only asking to be nice. “Just some show. How was your day?”

“Oh,” he rests his head against your shoulder. “Full of stabbing and murder. The usual.”

You wait, sensing some sort of dramatic pause in his manner.

“And I got us a present!”

You raise an eyebrow. “Oh? What sort of present?”

You know to be a little cautious. Wade’s presents have ranged from a sweet set of guns to a teacup pig you had to return to its owner.

But this time, Wade’s glee seems oddly more enthusiastic than usual. “I bought us matching shirts.”

You laugh. “Matching shirts?”

He nods and leaps up from the couch. He rummages in his bag by the door before plopping back down next to you. “See?”

He holds up the first shirt. “I had to hunt all over town for the shop, but I finally found them today!”

You laugh. You can’t help yourself. It’s not mean laughter, but actual, genuine laughter. You’re touched, in a way.

“Oh, Wade.” You read the shirt aloud. “‘I love my trans boyfriend.’ That’s so sweet!”

“And look at yours!” He holds up the other shirt.

“‘I love my smoking hot boyfriend.’” You nod, grinning at the cheesy decal. “I’m gonna wear it to the next family meeting.”

Wade gasps and clutches his shirt to his chest. “I’ll never be able to focus. Oh, you’re a sneaky one.”

You laugh and reach out to lift up his mask. You kiss his scarred cheek. “How ‘bout I go try it on, hmm? You wear yours… and I’ll wear mine…”

He clearly doesn’t miss the suggestive tone of your voice as he hops right up. “Yup! Let’s do that! I’ll just—“

He practically sprints for the bedroom and you grin. You can hear him banging around against the dresser, probably looking for some cute lingerie or something. You let him do his thing in peace, curious about what he’s gonna come out wearing.

You strip to your boxers and put on the shirt. It hangs big on you, which makes you smirk.

You used to think he just couldn’t remember your size, but now you know better. He does it on purpose, as he likes to pretend it’s his clothes you’re wearing. Some roundabout possession kink or something.

You can’t blame him. Hell, you let him do it. It makes you feel wanted, in some odd way.

You think about that for a moment, as you move to sit on the couch again. You quickly reach the conclusion that it doesn’t really matter, as you wouldn’t be dating Wade without a few quirks of your own.

Like his cute little saying about matching crazy. You don’t know if you match his level of insane, but you definitely match his level of horny.

So when he comes out of the bedroom with a literal bang of the door, you ogle him in amazement. He’s wearing the shirt and the hottest pair of red panties you’ve ever seen. They’re lacy, they’re silky, and they’re practically nonexistent.

Your mouth waters immediately. “I wanna suck you off.”

Wade groans, his cock visibly twitching in the panties. “Baby boy, I want that more than anything. But I made a promise to myself and I intend to keep it.”

You rest your chin on the back of the couch. “What promise?”

He walks over to you, lifting your head and planting one of the sloppiest kisses you’ve ever had right on your lips. You kiss him back with equal fervor, licking into his mouth with glee.

He pulls back from the kiss with a gasp, gazing at you with such adoration it makes your face heat.

“I promised I’d worship you, baby.” He cups your face in his hands, planting a kiss on your forehead. “Worship that sweet dick of yours.”

You can feel yourself get wetter. Can feel the slick soaking through your boxers, making them stick to your legs. “Fuck, Wade.”

“That’s the plan, baby boy.” He grins at you. “I’m gonna eat you out so good you’re seeing stars, and then I’m gonna fuck you till you can’t walk in the morning.”

“Promise?” You’re almost giddy with excitement. You and Wade fuck like rabbits almost every single day, and yet it still gets you excited every time.

“Promise. Now, come here. I wanna give that sweet mouth of yours some love.”

He practically topples over the couch as he leans in to kiss you. And you? You let yourself be squashed by him. Anything to keep his lips on yours and his hands roaming your body.

You moan into the kiss, arching your hips up against his. His hand snakes down to your boxers, stroking over the damp fabric.

“Aww, look at you,” he coos, “So wet for me. I bet you’re absolutely soaking.”

You whimper and press into his touch. His mouth lodges against yours again as his fingers dip below your waistband.

“Oh, fuck,” he groans, as his scarred fingers meet the pool of slick between your legs. He circles your dick, making you gasp and squirm beneath him.

“Wade! Wade, oh my god! Yes, just like that!”

“Yeah?” He nudges a finger against your hole. “Like this?”

You moan. Bucking into his touch, clenching around nothing. “Please, Wade…!”

“Ah, ah, ah,” he pulls his hand away. Bringing it up to his mouth to suck his fingers clean. He groans at the taste. “Fuck, baby. I love you so much right now. All needy and desperate and—“

He cuts himself off, sliding off the couch to kneel between your legs. He grips the damp fabric of your boxers, easily tearing them apart. You whimper, clenching at both the sight and at the breath of air against your dick.

“Oh, damn,” Wade breathes. He reaches out, tracing his fingertips over your slick skin. “Baby boy, I am going to feast on you.”

You grab a couch cushion, already preparing yourself. It always takes you by surprise, though. His first lick against you.

You squeeze the life out of the couch cushion, moaning and gasping as Wade laps at you. He sucks on your dick, groaning as you soak his chin with slick.

“Gonna make you cum on my tongue,” he mutters against you. “Then on my fingers. And then I’ll let you have my dick.”

You whimper. He smirks and goes back to eating you out.

You cum on his tongue twice. Right in a row, unable to help yourself.

When he slides his fingers into your dripping hole, you scream into the couch cushion. He pumps them inside you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot.

You cum seeing stars. Once, twice again,

Your body is twitchy, wracked with shudders when he finally pulls out his dick. He rubs it against you, coating it thoroughly in your slick and cum.

“You want this, baby?” He coos. “You want my thick cock?”

“Yes!” You bury your face in the couch cushion, mostly to hide the tears building in your eyes. It’s going to be too much. But you need it. You need him. More than anything else on the planet. “Please!”

Wade chuckles and notches the tip of his dick against your hole. “How badly do you want it?”

“So bad!” You rock forward against him, but he grips your hips.

“Oh, no,” he smirks. “Don’t be greedy. You’ll take what I give you, won’t you?”

“Please!” You beg. “Please, Wade, just put it in!”

“Alright, alright. Since you asked so nicely.”

In one fluid movement, he snaps his hips forward, burying himself inside you all the way.

You sob at the stretch, cumming immediately. You’re so sensitive. So achy and needy. Your poor dick so delicious sore.

Wade groans. Loudly. “Fuuuuuck! Keep that up and I won’t be able to last!”

You both know it’s a lie, he can go as long as he wants. But your sex-dumbed brain can only think of one thing. More pleasure.

You fuck yourself on him, arching and rocking your hips against his. He’s so deep inside you, you’re sure you could feel a bump in your stomach if you tried. It’s too much, exhaustion creeping up your spine.

Your movements get sloppy, more like needy grinding than fucking. You’re really crying now, tears flowing freely down your face and staining the cushion in your arms.

“Aww,” Wade coos. “Look at you. I wish I had a camera to take a picture. You’re perfect like this, you know.”

You just moan weakly. Thankfully he seems to get the memo. He grips your hips tightly and begins to fuck you roughly. Harsh, desperate thrusts. Heavy panting and sloppy kisses.

You abandon your cushion in favor of gripping his face as you kiss him.

“Please, please, please,” you beg.

He gasps and groans, fucking harder into you. “Oh, yeah, baby. This is it. You ready for this, handsome?”

You bite his lower lip in response, hard enough to make him bleed.

With a low curse, Wade slams his hips against yours, cumming deep inside you. You moan, slumping back against the couch. You feel full, weak in all the best ways.

He slowly pulls out, stuffing your hole with his fingers to keep his cum from spilling out. “You alright, baby boy?”

You just whine in response. Your limbs feel like lead, your eyelids drooping.

“Yeah, me too.” Wade chuckles. He gently scoops you up, carrying you in his arms. He heads into the bathroom, turning on the tub.

“You did so good,” he coos, pulling off your shirt and setting you in the water. “Was that five or six orgasms?”

You rest your head against his chest, voice slurred and sleepy. “Five, I think…”

“Damn. We’ll get one more next time.” He presses a kiss to your head. “Now sit up for a moment. I wanna get in too.”

You do a lazy round two in the bathtub before passing out on the bed.

Your last thought, all warm and snuggled up with your boyfriend? You wouldn’t trade him for the world.