#used cars yards near me

[cqusedcarsuperstore]

Comparing Local Used Car Yards: What Budget Buyers Should Know

Finding the perfect used car can feel like searching for a needle in a haystack, especially when you’re on a tight budget. With countless used car yards, how do you know which offers the best bang for your buck? Well, buckle up because we’re about to navigate the winding road of local used car yards and uncover the secrets to scoring a great deal without breaking the bank.

In this blog, we’ll discuss everything you need to know about comparing local used cars yards near me and making the best choice for your budget.

Why Comparing Used Car Yards Matters

Not all used car yards near me are created equal when purchasing a pre-owned vehicle. Each yard offers different inventory, pricing, and customer service, making it crucial to compare them before deciding. Understanding what to look for and how to evaluate each yard can ensure you get the best deal possible.

1. Inventory Variety: The More, The Merrier

One of the first things to check when comparing used car yards near me is the variety of vehicles they offer. A more enormous inventory means a better chance of finding the car that meets your needs and preferences.

Pros: A wide selection increases your options and might include rare models or specific features.

Cons: More options can sometimes be overwhelming, making the decision process longer.

Tip: Visit multiple yards or check their online inventories to understand their selection before committing.

2. Pricing and Financing Options

Price is, of course, a significant factor when comparing local used cars yards near me. Some yards offer attractive financing deals, while others may have higher interest rates or less flexible terms.

Pros: Competitive pricing and financing options can make your purchase more affordable.

Cons: Financing terms can vary widely, so it's crucial to read the fine print and understand the total cost.

Tip: Don’t hesitate to negotiate the price or inquire about special financing deals that might be available.

3. Vehicle Condition and History

The vehicles' condition and history reports are critical factors to consider. This includes accident reports, previous ownership details, and any repairs or maintenance done.

Pros: A well-maintained vehicle with a clean history can provide peace of mind and reliability.

Cons: Some yards may only disclose some relevant information, so doing your own research is essential.

Tip: Always request a comprehensive vehicle history report and have the car inspected by a trusted mechanic before finalising the purchase.

4. Customer Service and Reputation

Customer service can significantly impact your car-buying experience. Look for reviews and testimonials about the used cars yards Bundaberg you are considering. Positive reviews often indicate a commitment to customer satisfaction and transparency.

Pros: Good customer service can make the buying process smoother and more pleasant.

Cons: Poor customer service may lead to frustrations or hidden issues with your purchase.

Tip: Check online reviews and ask for recommendations from friends or family who have bought used cars recently.

5. Warranties and Return Policies

Finally, check the warranties and return policies offered by the used cars yards. While not all used cars have warranties, some yards offer limited warranties or return options for added security.

Pros: Warranties and return policies can provide additional peace of mind and protection.

Cons: Warranties may come with exclusions or limited coverage, so understand the details.

Tip: Ask about warranty options and make sure you understand the terms before signing any agreements.

Conclusion

Comparing local used cars yards near me might seem daunting, but with some research and due diligence, you can find a fantastic deal that fits your budget and needs. Considering inventory variety, pricing, vehicle condition, customer service, and warranties, you’ll be well-equipped to make an informed decision. So, roll up your sleeves, hit the lots, and find the perfect pre-owned vehicle that’s affordable and reliable! Happy car hunting!

Source: https://cqusedcarsuperstore.quora.com/Comparing-Local-Used-Car-Yards-What-Budget-Buyers-Should-Know 

[nexus-nebulae]

love watching weather science videos but like. why am i 1000x more interested in tornadoes over hurricanes. they're both spinning air

[theygender]

The management at my old apartment stole my fucking bike

[a111autoparts]

Used Parts for Sale: Get Your Vehicle Back on Track!

Explore top-quality used parts at unbeatable prices. From engines to transmissions, we provide reliable used parts to keep your car running like new.

[sophiamcdougall]

I am never going to complain about Greek Duolingo again

I mean, I am. But still.

So, as some of you know, my family has been coming to this tiny Greek seaside village for several years. Just over a week ago I came out here with my mum, under the impression that early September, after the height of the summer heat, would be a good time to have a holiday. ANYWAY Storm Daniel had other ideas about that. Locally things are improving (I'm actually really pissed off about the disaster-porn tone of most English-language media coverage, but that's another post). The power is back on, there's running water most of the time, and though the latter is not drinkable, a truck from the government came and handled out free bottled water yesterday. But we are currently kind of stuck. Can't do tourist things. Can't go home. There aren't any local flights out until Saturday and the road to Thessaloniki is still closed.

So this evening, feeling kind of aimless and depressed, I go down to the nearest beach with a couple of binbags and start cleaning up in an effort to at least do something positive. I always try to do this at least once out here and obviously, after the storm, there's a lot more plastic and rubbish than usual.

At some point I find this large, round bit of metal - some kind of machinery part, I think -- that's too big for the bag, so I take it to the bins on its own, leaving the rubbish bag on the beach. And when I come back for it, something among the stones beside it moves.

Specifically, it pulls its head sharply inside its shell

So, meanwhile I've been trying to learn some Greek with the help of Duolingo.

I currently have a 33-day streak and... I have questions. Shouldn't I be able to use the past or future tenses by now? Shouldn't I be able to say "x is like y"? I can't do those things. But one thing I absolutely can say all day long is έχω μια χελώνα : I have a turtle.

This is far from the limit of Duolingo Greek's turtle-related content. "An obsession with turtles" is my mother's characterisation. I can inform you that the turtle is not a bird, and, improbably, that the turtle is drinking milk. I can introduce you to a turtle in company with a horse and an elephant. As far as Duolingo is concerned, it really is turtles all the way down.

Now this, you may be able to see, is not a turtle. It has claws rather than flippers. It is a tortoise. I know there are wild tortoises in Greece: my aunt once rescued a pair of them shagging in the middle of the road -- but that was up in the mountains. I've even seen one myself, but it was also on a road and very dead.

I am 95% certain they don't belong on beaches. There's nothing for it to eat, except, unfortunately, a lot of plastic. Even if it gets off the beach it will immediately find itself on a road where it could get hit by a car. I'm pretty sure it must have been washed down by the floodwater and has been just sitting there, dazed, ever since.

Now obviously the first thing I want to do on encountering this unusual animal is to go and tell my mummy, so I do. The tortoise immediately brightens her day. She agrees that the tortoise is not happy on the beach and needs to be taken somewhere safe. it gets surprisingly wriggly when picked up so we put it in a carrier bag with some grapes and cucumber and go looking for somewhere to rehome it.

We find a path leading up between the houses towards a likely-looking field, but before we get very far a dog in a yard goes berserk and a man's head pops over a fence and demands to know what we're doing. He does this in English, as evidently we're just that obviously tourists.

"I found a tortoise on the beach!" I explain. "We want to find somewhere to put it."

"A what," he asks.

"It's like a, you know," I begin and then to my astonishment I find myself saying... "μια χελώνα"

"Oh! A turtle!" he says.

"But from the land. δεν είναι χελώνα", [it is not a turtle,] I say, as I am worried he will tell me to put it back near the sea where I found it. As it turns out it actually IS a χελώνα, Greek does not distinguish between turtles and tortoises, but I don't know that; I can't even name the days of the week or identify any colours other than pink yet, give me a break.

The man's entire demeanour changes and thaws. He does not worry about my turtle-that-is-not-a-turtle conundrum. He knows where οι χελώνες come from and where η χελώνα μας belongs. He leads us through a gate into a courtyard area.

"[somethingsomething] μια χελώνα," he explains to the assembled onlookers, of whom there are, suddenly, a surprising number.

"ΜΙΑ ΧΕΛΩΝΑ!!!" crows the throng of delighted small children, who are, suddenly, everywhere.

"μια χελώνα!" I agree, accepting that at least for current purposes, that is what it is.

"Μπορούμε να δούμε τη χελώνα σας; [can we see your turtle?]" asks an adorable little girl, shyly, and I understand??

The children fucking love looking at the χελώνα and showing it to them is kind of magical?

I finally put the tortoise down on the grass of this wild area off to the side of the courtyard, and marvel aloud that it is weird that I barely know any Greek except how to say μια χελώνα.

"I think she will soon run off," a kind lady called Aspasia assures me, seeing I remain slightly anxious about its fate. "I don't know why I'm saying 'she'. I suppose because χελώνα is feminine in Greek."

"Yes! I know that!" I exclaim, thrilled.

"Well done!" she says. And also she asks if we are OK for drinking water after the storm and if we need any help with anything and is just generally incredibly lovely and now we know more of the neighbours!

So "μια χελώνα" has just become, by a long way, my most-used and most understood and all-around most conversationally successful phrase in Greek. So I guess I have to admit I was wrong to doubt Duolingo's wisdom: it is correct to be obsessed with turtles. And I concede that prior to learning how to count to ten or to distinguish right from left, the simple ability to yell the word TURTLE over and over again is, it turns out, a crucial element of the responsible traveller's social skills.

(I am pretty fluent in Italian and turtles haven't come up in conversation even once?)

[gutsby]

Cry, Baby

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel fucks you to the point of tears. That’s all.

Warnings: 18+. Dacryphilia (kinda). Unprotected p-in-v. Girthy, unspecified age gap. Daddy kink. Jealous Joel.

Notes: Sorry for using pussy pronouns. It will happen again.

Joel Miller was a man of few words in most every place except the one where he found himself about to beat the brakes off your pussy. Then he never shut the fuck up.

“Uh-huh…just a little more…I know, sweet girl, I know.”

You had your hands at 10 and 2 on the steering wheel of his ‘71 Ford F-100, but rather than driving anywhere, your ass was comfortably parked on the front of his jeans—straddling his lap backwards while you rubbed your half-clad cunt over stonewashed denim. It was hell.

You’d been grinding against the bulge beneath those jeans so hard, and for so long, your white cotton undies had parted to the side, and your pleasure was nearly stretched commensurate with just how pathetic you felt.

Your head dropped between your two hands on the black molded plastic of the wheel, and you let out a whine.

“Joel—”

“Keep goin’.”

“This ain’t fair!”

Without hesitation, the hands that were holding your hips tightened their grip, and now Joel was raking your lower half over his. Rutting your core back and forth.

“You wanna know what ain’t fair?” he seethed.

He didn’t wait for you to answer.

“How much she’s been droolin’ over me all night.”

‘She’ meaning your unfucked cunt, of course.

Joel then punctuated his sentence with a particularly hard press of his palm—forcing you to lay flat on the steering wheel, hips tilted back to him. With just one callused finger of his other hand, he found you soaked between your folds. He dragged it from your clit to your aching hole, and you heard him sigh, as though sad.

“It’s a cryin’ shame,” Joel said. Lamenting.

You were almost lost to the sensation of his finger rubbing you up and down, but somehow, you managed, ‘W-W-What is, Joel?’ in between soft, plaintive sounds.

Sometimes you forgot how much older he was than you. Sometimes you said he was just like the boys your age. Other times he had you pinned like this, breaths calm and cruelly measured while you damn near came apart beneath his hand, and then you remembered everything.

“You just couldn’t wait ‘til we got home,” he grumbled.

Using the same hand he’d been stroking you with, Joel laid a quick slap to your cunt, and you jumped. Your head narrowly missed the roof of his truck; still, you groaned.

“‘M’sorry, Joel,” you keened.

You weren’t. The old man knew you weren’t.

The hand that had been splayed over your back sank in. The force of that push pressed your belly to the chipped Ford logo at the center of the steering wheel, and with the added pressure went the blare of the car’s horn.

The sound might’ve lasted two seconds before you scrambled back, desperate, into Joel’s broad chest. A couple old-timers making their way from the bar to their cars in the parking lot cocked their heads curiously in your direction a couple yards away. Seeing nothing of note, they lost interest just as quick and kept walking.

“Sorry for what?” Joel said.

At the moment, he didn’t seem to notice, or care, that his truck was parked a mere stone’s throw away from the Tipsy Bison, and bar-goers were milling freely between the building and the cars all around you. His belt unbuckled all the same, zip came down in a blink, and his thick, veiny, throbbing, and angry cock came to rest between your cheeks. He started to push you forward.

“Sorry for— for flirtin’ with Tommy,” you stammered, sucking in a breath when you felt him run the head of his cock between your lips. You could hear a soft squelch.

“And Lucien?”

“And Lucien.”

“And—”

“And Dieter, and Frankie, and Javi, and Marcus.”

Rattling off the names of all the men you’d been flirting with at the bar to make Joel jealous and take you back home to fuck you became an embarrassing chant.

“And?”

“…and Mayor Garcia,” you completed, sheepishly.

Back in there, you hadn’t been too proud to stoop to a politician’s level, even. That was how needy you’d been to get attention, and now Joel was giving it to you.

As hard as he could—he didn’t wait for the ‘OK’ before seating you on his cock. You were simply pulled back from the wheel and into his lap, onto his stiff erection, and before you could steady yourself, he started drilling.

“Even through these panties—” Joel tugged at the cream-colored cotton he’d easily slipped past, “—even through that slutty little skirt, I could feel how wet she was.”

Your eyes squeezed shut, and your hands found purchase in the torn-up leather of the seat, fisting strings and patches of fabric in a helpless sort of plea as Joel took over. With the buttons of his dark green flannel searing a stripe down your spine and his grey-speckled chin coming to nudge between your neck and your shoulder as he fucked you, you felt content. Secure.

Spilling more for him, then. Seeping rivers down the length of his shaft as he breached your walls and made you his all over again. And again. Leaving trails of arousal with every thrust, and rolling your head, limply, into his.

“She cryin’ for me?” Joel breathed, “Or somebody else?”

As if on cue, his cock hit the most sensitive ridge inside you, and you felt yourself gush even more. Dripping now.

“You.” Your voice was raw.

“Me?” Joel’s degradingly sweet.

Before you could answer ‘you’ once more, the driver’s door cracked open beside you both. For one panicked, terrifying second, you thought someone from the bar might’ve caught you two—then you were stunned to look over and see it was Joel’s own tough, steel-toed boot that had propped the door open to the cool night air.

The truck was facing the bar’s front door, shielded only by some foliage and a hatchback car about half its size. Other than that, you were exposed to whoever happened to pass by the big, bay window and take a look inside.

Joel felt you tense, and he pressed a kiss to you neck. Then he slid you carefully, almost tenderly, to the left until you were perched over the side of the seat with your legs dangling out of the truck—still filled to the hilt with his cock and pressed tight to the front of his chest.

“Cry a little more,” he urged.

Then, when your pussy gave an involuntary clench and drenched him some more, he slipped a hand around your front and started toying with your clit. Your gaze was wide, almost frightened as you stared ahead at the bar and saw patrons making rounds about the tiny place, fearing one might see you and Joel, but it felt so good. And wrong. And reckless, having this man who was easily decades your senior bouncing you up and down on his cock and letting you soil the front of his Wranglers.

“Pussy’s fuckin’ soakin’ me, pretty girl,” Joel let out a chuckle and gave your shoulder a playful bite when you pulsed around him again, “Squeezin’ me real tight, too.”

It was like your body was beyond your own control. You scarcely even realized your cunt had him gripped with such force, much less made a mess of his old denim. He just held you to him and kept pressing rough, stubbled kisses to your shoulder, reminding you over and over how sweet you were, how well you were taking him, how nice and tight and goddamn pretty that pussy must’ve looked gushing around daddy’s cock—maybe we can fuck in front’a the mirror so we can see it later, huh, baby?

You would’ve said yes to anything he said, you reckoned.

Especially when his arms moved over your front and you felt him grin, and he hugged you while he fucked you—nobody made you feel quite as special while they were splitting you open. Nobody’s balls felt quite as heavy and firm and full while hitting your ass by turns, and certainly no one but Joel could make you cum just as quick when he leaned into your ear and said, ‘Let go for me, darlin’.’

You did, and you felt his warmth follow inside you with the friction of just two more thrusts. Your head fell back on his shoulder, a moan clawed out of your throat, and the warm, euphoric feeling of release washed over your senses in waves, one trembling sensation after the next. Joel’s groans were quick to spill into your own, and, likewise emptying himself, he held your hips to his and made sure every drop stayed right where he wanted it.

His spend was always heavy, but this load felt larger than usual—like he’d been aching to fuck you full of his cum. Just as you both were coming down from your highs, you couldn’t help but key in on that soft, sticky warmth, likely to come oozing as soon as Joel pulled out of you.

In fact, you got to be so focused that you jumped when you felt something press to your cheek a second later.

It took another moment to register it as a kiss from Joel.

Then his tongue, dragging softly up the side of your face.

You started to laugh, about to ask him what the hell he was doing, when you felt a tear slip out of your other eye. With the sudden, sharp influx of pleasure, the moisture had leaked out without you even feeling it. Joel grinned.

He gave your cheek a light squeeze, wiped the other tear with the pad of his thumb, and kissed you again before mumbling in your ear, almost teasing as he said it:

“Crybaby.”

[chaotic-mystery]

Consider It a Favor || J.M.

Summary: Your AC breaks in your car and the one person around to help is your neighbor, Mr.Miller. (No outbreak!Joel miller x f!reader)

Content Warnings: 18+ as always, MDNI. Age gap (Not specified but I put Sarah in college) DILF Joel mowing his lawn, reader is able-bodied and is wearing a swim suit/coverup, reader has hair Joel can pull, kissing, swearing, (1) blowjob, size kink go brrr, pet names (good girl, sweetheart, baby) facedown ass up, babey, a little manhandling, unprotected penetration (don't look at me okay, the whore in me jumped out), dirty talk, Joel hyping up his ego, pussy ownership, creampie, a little glimpse of aftercare and what really happened to your AC.

Authors Note: This is my own submission for Summer Lovin' 24! We had a blast making this and I will def do another in the future. Ali, you are an absolute beast for making all of these moodboards, thank you bby. As always, go check out everyone else's submissions, Ali's been on top of it with the masterlist so you can find them all in one place over at @pedgito🖤 (Also are we surprised I'm posting this late? No)

|| wc: 3.4k || Dividers by me || Masterlist ||

There he was again, Mr.Miller in the front of his house mowing away at the barley grown grass with nothing but gray shorts on and his shoes, the sweat glistening in the sun over his shoulders. You knew it was wrong to look at your neighbor like this but how could you help yourself when he was so irresistible?

He didn’t have a problem with you staring either, he never told you to stop or that it made him feel weird. Having the attention of a woman made him feel good, especially when she was younger than him. It let him know he still had it in him.

“Hi Mr.Miller!” You try shouting over the roaring lawn mower but it was no use. He keeps walking up and down near the sidewalk, making sure he doesn’t miss an inch. If you didn’t get going now, you were never going to make the beach party you got invited to earlier. Making your way down the stairs of your wooden deck and sneaking glances at him every few steps to your car, you smile to yourself imagining him at the beach, laying on his stomach to tan that beautiful back.

Fading back into reality, you realize he was standing in front of you  snapping and waving his fingers to get your attention. 

“How’s it goin’ sugar? Doin’ okay in this heat?” 

“O-oh! Yeah, I’m just on my way to the beach now. Grass looks really good, can I pay you to cut my dads?” You joke and point behind you to the taller grass that didn’t look so bad before Joel cut his. 

“No, c’mon don’t start that shit. Well I’ll let you get goin’. I’m fixin’ to finish this yard anyway.” 

He waves goodbye and you stand up straight to look your best for his last glance at you, something to hopefully think about when he’s finishing his grass. Flipping over the engine as soon as you get inside, you roll the windows down to let the warm air out and you blast the AC to cool down. Something felt off though, the car was making a weird sound and the air wasn’t getting cold like it usually did. Frustrated and hot, you get back out and slam the door shut, walking in front of the hood to open it. Joel notices you get out and he turns to watch you, his brows knitting together in confusion.

“Everything okay, darlin?” He wipes his hands on his shorts as he walks over to you. 

“No, my goddamn AC won’t work right and I don’t know why but I can’t drive there without it, I would actually rather eat a jean jacket.”

He laughs and shakes his head before walking over to the driver side door, climbing in to stick his hand in front of the air vent. Feeling for himself firsthand the disgustingly warm air that was hotter than satan's asshole, Joel walks back to the hood and rests his hand along the top of it, his arm stretched up over his head. 

“I can take a look at it if you want? Probably won’t make it to the beach today but I can try like hell.”

“Are you sure? I have some cash inside the house to pay you. Hold on, let me go grab it.” You sprint towards the front door of the house and pat down the pockets of your skimpy coverup for the sound of the jingling keys. “Hey Joel, do you see my house keys in my car on the seat?”

“Let me look, sweetheart.” He opens the passenger side door and glances around on the passenger seat, not a single nickel key anywhere in sight. This was perfect, just perfect. You locked yourself out and you’re stuck outside in your swimsuit under the see through cover up you just had to wear instead of wearing normal clothes like every other person ever. 

“No! No key!” He shouts from your car and gets out, shaking his head side to side in case you didn’t hear him. 

Fuck. What were you going to do now? No one else was going to be home until later tonight, window climbing was out of the question, the back screen door had a wooden pole in the track to keep people from breaking in when you weren’t using it, there were no options but to hang out with Joel. You didn’t mind, but dressed like this? What would the neighbors think considering how nosy they are and the neighbor across the street who Joel briefly had a thing with. No one knew about that but you, thank god for late night trips to sit on the roof and smoke, right? You get to hear everything when it’s quiet.

Joel shuts the hood and gets back in the driver's seat, the door latching softly behind him. His big hand grabs the back of the passenger seat headrest as he reverses out of your driveway with the other one hand on the wheel, spinning it in such a controlled way it weirdly turns you on seeing him drive like that. He pulls into his garage and shuts off the engine before tucking the keys in the sun visor. He chuckles at the key to keychain ratio you have on the worn out carabiner, the red paint scratched all over and showing the silver metal under it.

”So, turns out I locked myself out of my house…this is just great.” You scratch your forehead in frustration and sigh. If you were just paying attention to what you were doing when you were leaving you wouldn’t have locked yourself out and you wouldn’t be out here half naked with Joel. You fling the trunk open and start to look for extra clothes, anything to put on to be a little more presentable and not have the neighbors question your entire life.

The options were slim pickings. A choice between wearing a hoodie in 100 degree weather, a safety vest you swore you needed to buy the other day, and someone’s jeans that weren’t your size at all. 

“What are you doin’ back there?” 

“Looking for something to put on because I look crazy.” 

A sigh of relief washes over you as you find all the way in the corner of the trunk, an oversized gray t-shirt you didn’t even remember owning. The band printed on the front was so faded out by now you couldn’t tell who was even on it. 

Pulling the cotton fabric over your swimsuit and shimming your cover up down your legs until you’re able to step out of it, you toss it in the trunk before you slam it shut and grab a seat next to the oscillating fan he has going. The semi cool air blows your scent right in his direction and he tries to act normal about the smell of your perfume mixed with sunscreen. He yanks the short stool over to him and the wheels wobble as it rolls fast towards him and he sits down with his flashlight in his other hand, inspecting what could be the issue. The heat was starting to get to you and your head was pounding, ringing with a sharp headache. 

“Sweetheart, come hold this light for me, would you please?” 

“Y-yeah, absolutely.” 

You stand up a little too eagerly and walk over to where he was in front of the car. Joel’s hand brushes against yours as he holds out the black flashlight, his dark brown eyes glancing up at yours as soon as your skin touches. It was something you’d never felt before. Maybe it was because he was so much older and it was wrong to feel this way about your neighbor. Maybe it was the excitement of knowing you’d be thinking about this later when you were home and by yourself, taking care of this aching feeling that was growing between your thighs. 

“Point it up just a little bit more, yeah right there. Good girl.” 

At this point he has to know what he was doing to you, the smirk on his lips was a dead give away. He saw the way your eyes widened just enough to make his breath catch in his throat, but he couldn’t act on it. Not yet, at least. He grunts and groans as he starts to move stuff and loosen nuts, the same sounds you imagine echo off his bedroom walls when he’s taking care of himself. He seems like a moaner when he’s jerking off, with such a big house and just one person living there now, there was no way he was a silent masturbater. 

A few hours passed and your hair was sticking to the nape of your neck, completely drenched in sweat. He ended up finding the problem and fixing it just like that. He must know what he’s doing because he found the problem fast…a little too fast.

“Thank you, Mr.Miller, I really appreciate it. Do you have something I can drink?” 

“Oh, shit! I’ve got lemonade inside, c’mon. Ladies first.” 

Joel stands up and lets you walk past before he’s behind you, watching your amazing ass move as you walk up the two little steps to go inside the house. His hand reaches up to the wall and presses on the white button to close the garage door. Seeing the inside of his house was new to you, you’d only seen what you could inside by the front door when you walked by. The tan walls lead you to the kitchen and he points to the white counter island. 

“Sit and wait for me right here, I’ll get ya some lemonade and we can cool off.” 

His finger points to the small barstool tucked under the counter and you straddle the leather top, your ass looking so tempting. The air blows through the vent next to your leg and you shiver slightly as it kisses your warm leg, your nipples hardening under your shirt. Joel walks over to your side and stands close, the lemonade glass clinking against the counter when he sets it down. 

“So what do I owe you?” You ask, taking a sip of lemonade.

“Nothin’ consider it a favor.” 

“Are you sure?” 

You didn’t want it to just be a favor, but if he wanted to play that game, you could too. 

“More than sure, sweetheart.” 

Joel’s waist is so close to brushing against your arm, it was killing you not to move just the slightest to feel him on you. You look up at him and roll your eyes slightly. 

“What was that for?” He asks, his brows knitting together in confusion. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The smirk grows wider on your face before you turn the stool forward but Joel’s hand comes to your neck, right underneath your hair, and he grasps firmly before he guides you to look at him once more. 

“Think you know exactly what I’m talkin’ about.”

His words were breathy, as if he’s running out of time to talk and his lips crash onto yours. Joel’s mustache pokes against your lip as you kiss him deeper before pulling away, standing with your back against the counter, Joel right in front of you with his hands on his hips. 

“I um, I didn’t mean to do that. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Joel looks around the kitchen as if his excuse is written out on the walls for him. 

“I won’t tell anyone, I promise. You can trust me, Mr.Miller.” 

The innocent smile you flash at him causes him to chuckle and shake his head at you. Joel crosses his arms over his chest and gives a pause before responding. 

“You’re trouble, you know that? Come here.” His finger signals for you to come closer and you happily oblige. Joel’s hands squeeze your hips before his right one travels up to your neck, gripping firmly so you can’t wiggle away.

“Tell me, princess…is that what you want? You want me to bend you over the couch, touch you until you can’t take it, shove my cock in your pretty little mouth?”

Full body chills wash over you. Jesus christ, he was good. Looking at him in his eyes once more, the true nature of Joel Miller was coming out to play. The man who pretended to be an innocent, quiet neighbor, was actually just an older man who wanted to fuck you just as much, if not more than you wanted him to. A wolf in sheep's clothing.

“That’s exactly what I want. More than anything.” You grab his forearm and rub softly before following down to his hip. 

It was driving him crazy the way you were toying with the waistband of his gray shorts, the anticipation was killing him. Joel lets go of your neck and nods his head to the floor, wanting you to get on your knees in front of him. When you kneel down and sit patiently, his shorts fall right to his feet, hardened cock springing out in front of you. 

“I don’t think this is gonna fit, Joel.” 

“It’s okay, don’t worry; I’ll make it fit. Open your mouth, sweetheart.” 

Joel waits until your lips part and your tongue sticks out before smacking the tip of his cock against the wetness pooling on your tongue. His groans fill your ears like a symphony and you swear you’ve died and gone to heaven. His cock wasn’t even inside you yet and you were already so wet for him, you could feel it all over the inside of your swimsuit bottoms. You grab the base and begin sucking, taking your time so your lips run slowly over every vein, every inch of skin his cock has to offer.

The amazing work you were doing with your mouth causes him to grunt and buck his hips, ever so slightly face fucking you until he looks down with his teeth clenched from the pleasure. 

“God damn, you can take it deep. Nasty little one. Doin’ even better than I imagined.” 

The bell goes off in your head and you slowly take his cock out of your mouth and look up at him with a grin on your face. 

“You think about what it would be like to get a blowjob from me?” 

Joel scratches his beard and looks away from you so you don’t see the blush creeping on his face. 

“I do, every night. You don’t make it easier on me when I see you outside half naked because it’s so hot out, your tits spilling out of your top. You’re so fucking beautiful, sweetheart.” 

Now it was your turn to feel the heat rising in your cheeks. You always wondered if he noticed your outfits and he was giving you answers you never thought you’d get. You continue working your tongue from his balls all the way to the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue over the tip and getting any precum dripping out from the way you had him going. His hand runs through your hair and wraps around it, tugging everytime your tongue brushes over the sensitive spot right under the tip. 

“Get up, I can’t take this anymore. I need to fuck you, I need to feel what it’s like inside you.”

He helps you up and walks you over to the black leather couch tucked right under the big picture window in the living room, tossing you down onto the cushions and pulling your ass up into the air with your back arched. He watches as the swim fabric reveals your glossy cunt with the help of Joel pulling the bottoms down just to sit right below your ass.

“Are you ready to be a good girl for me?” Joel grabs your hips and leans over you, cupping your breasts and toying with a nipple as he grinds his cock against your ass waiting for your approval. 

“Y-yes, Joel. I want you to stretch me out. Give it all to me, please.” 

That was enough for him to push his thick cock deep inside you and for a moment your eyes rolled back into your skull. It was one thing having it down your throat but it was another when it feels like it's tearing you in two. Joel’s big hand spreads on your lower back as he drives himself deeper into you, giving you a moment of time to adjust to him before he starts thrusting. 

“Fuck you’re so tight, already squeezing around me. You like that, baby?” His hips slam into you with a rhythmed pace and he grabs your wrists, pinning them to your back while he goes faster. 

Joel’s balls pat against your ass with the speed he’s going and his grunts fall into sync with yours. The two of you start to move against each other and Joel pins your arms tighter to your back to keep himself steady. This was everything you wanted and more and the way your tummy was doing flips, you knew he was ruining you and this wasn’t just a one time thing. 

“Oh my god, Mr.Miller please, go harder, please. Spank me.” 

Joel’s ears perk up and he doesn’t let your arms fall to your side. He holds your wrists with one hand and begins to slap your ass, groaning with every connection his palm makes with your cheeks. You lose count after the fourth one and continue to moan Joel’s name, your pussy aching from the contact.

“I think you’re gonna get me addicted to this pussy, sweetheart. Gonna have to come over again so you can make yourself feel good on my cock, you like the sound of that, baby? I hope I ruin guys your age for you so you only want an older man deep inside you.”

You whine out and the building feeling in your tummy continues and Joel’s words almost push you over the edge. His hand lets go of your wrists and grasp firmly on your hips, slamming your body back against his. 

“I can feel you wanting to come. Is that right? Tell me who this pussy belongs to, sweetheart. Tell me” he growls and spanks you.

Your teeth clamp together as you try not to come yet but he makes it hard with the way he’s plowing into you. Gripping onto the cushion next to you, you try to answer but his moans catch you off guard and make you lose focus.

“C’mon, baby. Tell me who this pussy belongs to and I’ll let you come.” 

Joel spanks your ass again and it brings you enough momentum to respond.

“It’s-fuck-it’s yours Joel. This pussy is yours, all yours I swear.” 

The groan he pulls deep from his sternum is exactly what you need to send you over, dissolving into pleasure underneath Joel. He doesn’t stop thrusting inside of you as he finds it fascinating to watch you squirm and choke out broken moans of his name.

“It’s okay, I got you baby. I’ve got you.” He pants out and soon he’s following you, shooting his load of cum deep inside you. The two of you whimper soft nothings as you come down off your high and Joel catches his breath while he goes soft inside you, the living room falling quiet now. 

As you lay there in a daze with Joel getting off of you, he gives you another moment before he helps you up and fixes your swimsuit bottoms to where they should be sitting. You fix your hair to not look so crazy and turn around to look outside the window and over to your driveway, no one home yet. 

“Joel, would it be okay if I took a nap? You kinda wore my ass out.” You laugh and rest your head on his shoulder. 

“Yeah, absolutely. I won’t uh, I won’t make you sleep on the couch though. C’mon, come sleep in my bed. I’ll make us somethin’ to eat.” He kisses your forehead and walks you to his room. The blue walls and gray sheets invite you in and you’re drawn to his bed immediately. The pillows still fluffed and mangled from him sleeping earlier in the morning but you couldn’t wait to lay on them. He gets you all cozy and in his spot he sleeps and kisses you once more. 

“I’ll come get you when the food is done. Also, sorry I ruined your AC but at least I fixed it!” He says quickly and disappears down the stairs. 

[ceilidho]

landscape with honey

summary: price/reader bear shifter fic. PART 4. (read the whole thing on ao3 here) tags: light daddy kink, breeding kink, very nsfw, she/her pronouns for reader

-

He starts showing up at your house at odd hours. 

You’re fixing coffee in the morning, still fuzzy and warm from sleep, only to hear the sounds of hammering outside. Wrapping yourself in just a housecoat, you find John fixing the loose step on your stairs, barely sparing enough time to greet you before returning to the task at hand. When he finishes, he brushes off your attempts to pay him for the job, just loading his tools back in the car and driving off.

You sip your coffee and wonder. Odd.

The next day, you find him raking the leaves in your lawn. Two days later, he shows up at the grocers when you’re picking up produce, and helps you carry all your bags to the car. He also adds a peculiar amount of canned goods to your order and when you fret and try to tell him that you don’t need the pickles and sauerkraut and beans and all of that stuff, he just lays a hand flat on your head and drags it down your hair until you go quiet. 

He pays for the whole order.

You’ve never had to wonder about a man’s actions. Men are largely inscrutable to you, ever-shifting. They say one thing and mean another. They look at you like one might look at an oil painting, entitled something like Virgin Meeting Her Lover’s Eyes From The Top Of The Staircase or Landscape With Virgin. They speak to you as though an answer were entirely antithetical to their purpose in conversing with you. 

John listens to you with a focus that borders on intimidating, like he wants to hear each word enunciated exactly how you might enunciate it. It has the sharp clarity of respect, of a mutual acknowledgement of humanity. He also comes over to fix your sink without you having to ask. The world of men is still largely confusing to you. 

John grows surlier as the days grow shorter though. He doesn’t snap or snarl at you the way he does sometimes with his recruits (you rarely see him interact with them, but sometimes you’ll drop him off his lunch on the days when you’re feeling particularly generous and that’s when you’ll have the rare pleasure of hearing him shout at a trembling twenty-three year old for littering on the trail like a military captain), but it’s a near thing. 

The worst is when he catches you on a jog one morning on his drive to work. You see his truck with the faded red paint pass you by and you give a short wave that he returns. He passes you by about half a yard before coming to a full stop and reversing. You stare at him as the window rolls down, brows furrowed.

“Hi Jo—” you start.

“Get in the car,” John growls. You hear the doors unlock. 

“…My uh…my shift’s in two hours, John, I can’t just—”

“Get in the car.”

“This is my only time to exercise!”

“If I have to get out of this car and drag you inside, honey, I will. Don’t play with me. Get in.”

You get in the car. Probably wisely. Still dripping sweat and shivering from the cold—you’re not used to jogging in the winter, or at all for that matter, but it seemed like as good a time as any to start—you glance over to stare at the side of John’s face. His jaw is set, almost as if in anger. His knuckles are white over the steering wheel as he makes a U-turn and drives back into town. The cab of his truck smells like flannel pulled out from the back of a closet, almost musty, but comforting in the way that old clothes can sometimes smell. There’s a cigarette ashed out in the dish in front of the centre console. 

He takes you to the nearest bakery for coffee and a breakfast muffin and stares you down until you eat the whole thing. You feel like you have to scarf it down. Customers bustle into the bakery to order coffee to-go and fresh cookies and scones in waxy paper bags; everyone in town knows each other so you try to avoid the more curious stares when they’re turned on you.

“This is weird,” you say, staring down at the crumbs on your plate. “This is really weird.”

“This is what you get for exercising before winter,” John says, flagging down the barista for another muffin and a refill on your coffee. “Waste of calories.” The last part is said derisively, almost with a scoff. 

You frown. “Lots of people exercise. Even when it snows.”

“Winter is a time for hibernating. Not…sweat,” he says with a grimace, like the very thought is anathema to him. 

"Hibernating?" you repeat skeptically, scrunching up your nose. "I mean, I spend a lot of time indoors, but I wouldn't say I'm hibernating."

John stares at you until you look away, flushed. "Finish your breakfast."

The barista returns with another blueberry muffin and a fresh cup of coffee. At least John's the one paying. When he finally seems satisfied, he hustles you home and leaves you off at the door with a stern warning. 

“You gonna be good for me this time?” he asks, a finger curled under your chin, tilting your head up. One of his hands curls around the doorframe and your heart jumps when you hear the wood creak under his grip. This close, you can see the faintest silver streaks at his temples and the flecks of it in his beard.

“It was just a light jog,” you mumble, looking away. 

“Not a light anything,” he warns, ducking closer until you feel like shrinking back, like disappearing into your house. “Bake a cake if you have to burn off energy so bad. I’ll be over around seven, alright?” 

You mumble something, the words getting lost in themselves. It’s impossible to think with John in your space like this. It’s only when he finally pulls away and ambles back to his truck that you rock back on your heels, let go of whatever spell he had you under. 

The first week of December hits town like a truck. 

You’re trudging home alone after your shift when you make the decision to cut through the forest because you missed the last bus and you don’t want to spend an hour walking home. The first snow of the season has caught you off guard, clad in boots too autumnal and a sweater too thin for the biting cold. The flakes fall in thick chunks that stick for a brief moment before melting into the skin.

It’s not the first time you’ve travelled through the forest alone. The town is surrounded by pockets of the forest, like it can’t help enveloping whatever space is left for it. Oftentimes it’s easier just to cut through the woods rather than travel the long way around. You wouldn’t even call this the forest proper, not like the acres of trees sprouting over the mountains just off in the distance. 

A bush rustles. Your eyes flick over for a second, breath hovering in your chest before you decide that it’s just a squirrel. Nothing ever happens in a town like this. The man from the other day notwithstanding, nothing truly bad ever happens. You keep walking down the partially demarcated path, lit only by the full moon overhead. It’s so dark that the snow around you is almost blue. 

The bush rustles again. You stop this time, feet staying planted in the snow long enough for your feet to grow cold. You stare at the dark shoots covered in a layer of snow; it stripes the branches like candy from a time ago, licorice twisted with white bark, and it doesn’t move when you look at it. The bushes and trees are dense, impossible to peer through. Even walking through the forest doesn’t make you feel immersed in it. You follow a barely marked path, hard to see through the recent snowfall, and stare out into the dark woods with a kind of animal sense. Not sure whether you’re alone, whether something’s there with you, and whether it’s sensed you or if you’ve sensed it first. 

You start walking again when your feet go numb. Better to just get home.

It comes behind you again as a slightly louder rustle. It’s harder to shake off the fear this time, harder to say that it’s just the wind. The snow crunches under more than one set of feet, branches cracking under the weight of something larger than you. 

You don’t want to turn around, but the sound of something chuffing makes your stomach drop. The first thing that emerges when you turn to face it is its massive head, a white frosted muzzle, and the visible hump on its back. The wispy smoke of its breath puffs out when it breathes. Its eyes are dark, hardly reflecting any light at all. Then the rest of it emerges, the saplings bending out of its way as it clambers out of the woods and onto the path, staring you down all the while.

You’ve never seen a bear before. Not this close. Not so close that you know it’s been stalking you, know that it didn’t come upon you by accident. You’re staring down at your own body from somewhere else, fear displacing you. Rending you from your own body. There’s no way to guess its weight at a glance, but it’s easily twice the size of you, easily more than that. 

When it takes a step forward, everything goes dark. 

You wake up snuggled under the warmth of a thick blanket. Sleep is creamy thick, engulfing you on all sides, only the faintest prickle of awareness letting you know that you’re awake. 

It’s unpleasant to leave the cotton miasma of sleep, you think. Your nose scrunches up and you let out a tired huff, trying to will yourself back into it. The harder you try to force yourself back into it though, the farther away it floats.

Still it weighs you down. It takes an age to work up the energy to so much as twitch a finger. Even your eyelids insist on staying shut. Yet, the prickle of consciousness needles at you as if to say hello, wake up, you need to get up. You sigh and try to shimmy up onto your elbows.

A hand shoves you back down. The breath rushes out of you.

“Get…back down,” a rough voice grunts from over you and then the full weight of a man settles on top of you, pressing you deep into the mattress. 

Consciousness snaps back into you, elastic sharp. The weight of him pins you to the bed, makes you sink into the plushness of—and this is gradually coalescing in your mind—an unfamiliar place. All four corners of your body are trapped under him. The voice is familiar though. Ragged, brutal. A saw taken to the trunk of an old, thick tree, too many interior rings to count. You whisper John’s name and he grunts, making you flinch from how the sound reverberates through the side of your head.

Exhaustion is thick though and it leaves you heavy, even when John slowly lifts himself to his elbows from behind you. You feel him drag his body down the length of the bed, beard scratching into your skin with every petal soft kiss dropped along your spine during his descent.

“John?” you whisper, only just able to turn your head, not even able to struggle up to your elbows. “J-John?”

He doesn’t answer you. The room is near pitch black, only a window on the other end of the room with the curtain pulled back the smallest amount enough to let the moonlight in. Even the moonlight isn’t enough. You know from the shape of the window that this isn’t your house, that it must be somewhere else. You can only surmise from John’s presence that it’s his, but that thought passes over you like a rock skipping over water. 

“Wher’m’I?” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut when his lips press over the small of your back. Sensitive there. 

Rough hands with callused fingertips smooth over your ass, pressing into the flesh. His fingers pry your cheeks apart, thumbs dipping into the space between and pressing over your hole, making you burn all over. You’re too far gone to worry about any hair on your legs or anything about your body other than John’s hands undulating over your ass and thighs. You flinch violently when his teeth sink into the meat on the underside of your ass, so tender that even exhausted to the bone your body lashes out. 

Big hands pry your legs apart. You flinch at the sudden hot breath over your sex, a whine tickling your throat. His face hovers so close to your centre that the tip of his nose presses on the tender skin near your entrance. 

“Wha’ d’you…think you’re doin’...” you ask breathlessly. Your brain tries to order your leg to kick, but it stays flat and limp on the bed. 

The first touch of John’s tongue along your slit makes you melt, the flat of his tongue lapping upward and making your hips tilt up with it. It almost makes your mind go blank again, almost tips you back into the unconscious world because the synapses in your brain stop firing the second you remember that it’s John between your legs licking hungrily at your cunt. John from the grocery store, John from the ranger’s station in the mountains—the John you’ve been crushing on and coveting for months now, content to just be friends with the gruff, handsome man in the house next to yours. Now sucking one of your nether lips into his mouth and tracing his tongue up the inside, gliding it over the supple flesh.

“Yer in the den,” John mumbles into your pussy and it’s like he sears the words into your brain. “‘N I’m takin’ care of you, honey.”

“The…the den…?” It’s so hard to keep your thoughts in order. Each flick of his tongue makes you gasp, pussy growing wetter and hips grinding languidly down on his face.

He hums instead of answering. 

“Why’m’I so tired?” you slur. 

His tongue saws over your clit from behind. It tears a broken whimper from you. You feel every textured ridge, the way it flicks around in a circle and then up and down again. 

“Winter season,” John says, sucking your clit into his mouth until you whine at the top of your lungs. “Bear’s sleep in winter.”

“Tha’s silly. M’not a bear,” you moan. 

“No,” he agrees, humming into your sex. “Jus’ mated to one. Makes you sleepy too, honey.”

“Mated?” you repeat back, but it’s lost in the way you moan when he eats your pussy from the back, licking into you with renewed vigour. Hungry like a bear. Grunting like a satisfied man, slurping loud enough to make your face heat up. 

Words and old memories about bears hardly matter when the handsome man from next door spreads your legs wide, almost to the point of pain, and sinks his tongue into your hole again. You never would’ve expected John to be vocal, but he’s noisy behind you, groaning into your cunt. He keeps mumbling things under his breath that you can’t catch. 

“John—” you gasp, biting your lip when he sucks your clit into his mouth again. “John—John—”

He only has to give you a single finger to tip you over the edge, feeds it in nice and slow. Your cunt clenches down at the intrusion, teeth nearly breaking through the skin of your lip. 

When he crawls back over you, anticipation makes you shudder. You hear something faint in the background that grows steadily louder as John rests his elbows on either side of your head, until you realize that it’s your own voice murmuring, “Put it in, put it in, put it in—”

He obliges. A thick, steady plunge that hardly manages more than a handful of inches before you’re crying, and it’s too much, too much, too much. Pleasure not a limpid pool anymore but something cavernous and deep-dwelling, pulling you in or trying to make a home inside of you for it. John’s biceps tense with the strain of holding himself back. 

You balance on the knife’s edge between pleasure and pain. There’s a single thought in your head that it might burn you up from the inside; it runs a jagged hole through you. 

His nose drags through your hair. “Never expected you. Thought I’d go another season alone ‘till I started smellin’ you around town.”

You hiccup. “Y’never—never paid me any attention ‘for— before, ah—”

“‘Course I paid attention to’ya, honey,” John says into your ear, grunting when he drives deeper into your pussy, still just a languid grind of his hips, so mind-numbingly slow that your thoughts sizzle out of your head. He keeps dragging his hips back and plunging in, barely pulling away from you, all skin on slick skin. “Made a home for m’self in your house. Made sure we had ‘nough to eat for the winter.”

“The winter?”

“Won’t be goin’ anywhere for a few months.” He brushes your hair out of the way to kiss down your neck, giving in to the urge to bite just a little. His body stays pressed tight to yours, hardly an inch of space between the two of you. “Wasn’ sure at first if it’d be here or in your house so… fuck, I had to get ready. Make sure you’d be safe when it hit.”

“Don’ even…know wha’ that means,” you mumble into the mattress, then squeal and fist the fists when John shoves a hand under you to grope your chest.

“Don’t worry about it,” he shushes you. “All y’have to do now is lie there ‘n take my cock, okay, honey? Can’ya do that for me? I’ll get some food in you after we’re done, then send ya back to bed.”

Only a whine comes out when you open your mouth. John’s arm by your head forces you to breathe in the scent of him, musky and rich. You stare at the hair on his knuckles and his thick fingers gripping the sheets as well, old nicks and scars decorating his hand. You can’t stop staring at his fingers and thinking that he had one of those in you before, that he’s felt you from the inside. 

He never pulls away, never changes positions, just fucks you on your tummy in his bed. You’ve never been in John’s bedroom before, but this has to be his room—even the pillowcase smells like him, pine needles and cigar smoke. He keeps up a steady pounding into your cunt, rutting like a wild animal. Has to be close. Gets so close to you that you feel smothered, trapped in place. Like if you struggled, he wouldn’t let up. You want to test it, see if you could, but the heaviness is still in your limbs, keeping you docile. Convenient. A little convenient thing for him to use, like a doll to get himself off with.

“Never coulda imagined such a pretty girl f’r me,” John groans, getting a grip in your hair to twist your head, tugging you into a kiss. Your whole body sparks to life, so shocked that you can’t even kiss him back at first. You wait until he pulls back, staring into his half-lidded eyes through the mess of your hair all tangled up around you. “Gave up on thinkin’ there was anyone out there. Thank fuck I found you first, honey. Can start workin’ on all the good stuff now. Get you to give daddy a baby.”

“D-daddy?” you gasp back, almost scandalized. 

He pants into your shoulder, worked up now. “Yeah, honey. Don’ I take care of you? Buy y’r food, fix y’r house? Give you someplace nice ‘n warm to sleep?”

You feel soaked with sweat, twitchy, on the verge of something dangerous. Vision all fogged up, heart beating so fast that your skin buzzes. Stretched out on a fat cock and pinned in a man’s bed, nowhere to run or hide. 

“Y-yeah,” you stutter when John gets a bit rougher, his breathing getting more staggered, laboured. 

“That’s right, girl,” he grunts, “I’m y’r fuckin’ daddy then, aren’t I?”

Magma bubbles up from deep inside of you. Rockslides off in the distance beat against the ground. When you cry out, it gets lost in the rubble. 

You stumble into the living room maybe hours later after using the washroom across the hall. Maybe a day later. It’s hard to say how many times the sun has risen and fallen behind the mountains. The clock face stares back at you uncomprehendingly. 

Come drips out of you onto the floor. Thick droplets run down your inner thighs. John is still sleeping in the bed where you left him, snoring like a chainsaw. It must’ve been what woke you up. There’s no way of knowing how long it’s been since he first brought you home, since he left a mess in your pussy, which is still puffy and sore from rough use. You walk with halting little steps to try to minimize the ache. 

You stare bleary-eyed around the room. It feels somehow different than the previous times John’s had you over; there are more throws and blankets draped over the couch, candles scattered around the living room with a lighter on the mantle. 

There’s a fire roaring in the fireplace, blanketing the house in a layer of warmth. It makes you sluggish, stumbling forward only a handful of steps before the shaggy rug in front of the fire drags you back down to the floor. 

“What’re you doing out of bed, pretty girl?” someone rumbles from behind you. 

“Had t’pee,” you say, blinking. You try to rub the sleep out of your eyes unsuccessfully. “Why’m’I still so tired? It’s been…I slept so long…”

“C’mon, honey,” John says, coming up behind you and curling his arms around you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “Told you it was gonna be a long winter. Maybe just one more and then somethin’ to eat, okay?”

It’s easy to sink to the floor, so easy. Especially with the fluffy rug under your feet. Especially with the fireplace toasting you from the outside in, the tinder crackling in the hearth. Everything in the house is dark and warm, only the fire giving you any light at all. Outside the window, the moon is still heavy in the sky. 

Something about the humidity of the den makes you suddenly so tired, boneless, pliable when he goes to move you, when John curves himself around you in the furs and reaches down to slide a hand between your thighs. 

He grunts when he finds you wet and wanting, sinking a couple fingers in and palming your clit. He doesn’t talk much still, but he says good girl when he cants your hips and slowly stretches you out on his cock. Feeds it into you achingly slow, like molasses. Like nothing’s due for another few months, so why rush it? He’ll take his time so you’re nice and happy and sweet come spring for cubs.

You’re not sure what that means. The pace is slow and deep, like before but less intentional. Like he just wants to savour the warmth of your body. 

When he finally comes deep inside you, your body goes limp, collapsing in a heap onto the rug. You expect John to pull out and turn over, maybe pull you onto his chest so you have somewhere to rest. Instead, he sighs all tired and content, and stays in you, still plugged up in your cunt, his spend only just starting to leak out into a pool beneath you. 

“Are we gonna eat?” you mumble, already half-asleep.

Somewhere behind you, he laughs; it’s soft like a snowfall in winter. “Yeah, honey. After a nap, we can eat.”

[primeautoparts1]

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[itneverendshere]

rewatching desperate house wives right now and would love to see a little something inspired by gabrielle and carlos?? maybe season 2 when he's in jail and she wants a conjugal visit. just thought it would be fun, love your work!!!

I'M THE GIRL YOU DIE FOR- r.c

pairing: canon!rafe x queenb!kook!reader

of course, you had to be here.

no one else was going to fight for rafe—certainly not that tired, old man, with his cheap suit and receding hairline.

god, you hated this place. the lighting was terrible, the walls a sad, dull beige that screamed "i give up," and the leather chairs were probably fake.

honestly, couldn’t these people at least pretend to have some standards? guess that’s what happens when you’re not the one cutting the checks.

now, instead of champagne and designer brunches, you were spending your afternoons in a hellhole like this. you stood near the chain-link fence, your sunglasses shielding you from the glaring sun.

in the distance, the inmates were out in the yard, working out, talking in groups, smoking—whatever it was they did to kill time.

who thought it was a good idea to have meetings out here? the yard was full of dirt, sweat, and who-knows-what, and the chain-link fence looked like something out of a low-budget crime show. you flicked a piece of lint off your skirt, more for effect than necessity.

maxwell finally showed up, his face blank, like he wasn’t impressed by the outfit you’d spent an hour putting together. whatever. you were here for rafe, not him.

“we need to talk,” you said, tightening the hold on your birkin like it weighed a thousand pounds. it was designer. it probably cost more than his car.

maxwell didn’t even flinch. “about?”

cheap suit, cheap attitude. honestly, if you weren’t so desperate, you’d be done with this idiot by now.

“about my fiancé.” you tilted your head, giving him your best ‘don’t play dumb with me’ look. “we need a conjugal visit. and i need you to make it happen.”

“a conjugal visit?” he said it slow, like you were asking for a miracle.

“yes.” you smiled tightly. “you know, those things where people in prison get to have a little privacy? i want you to get us one.” you rolled your eyes. god, this guy was infuriating. “isn’t that part of your job? to get what we need?”

maxwell raised an eyebrow. “a conjugal visit isn’t part of the deal. rafe’s charges are serious. i’m trying to get your fiancé out of jail, you want me to stop everything just so you can have a booty call?”

he was acting like you were asking for something outrageous.

as if it wasn’t completely reasonable for you to want to see rafe. really see him. after months. this was rafe cameron you were talking about. he had power. you had power. how could this crusty lawyer not understand that?

“i’m not asking, maxwell. i’m telling you. make it happen.”

“i said no.”

you scowled at him, “all we need is an hour. you can’t tell me no! you work for me, you will make it happen.”

he gave a fake sigh, the kind people did when they thought you were being dramatic.

“listen,” he sneered, leaning in slightly. “i’m not your servant. you don’t get to snap your fingers and expect things to just happen. newsflash—your boyfriend is in prison. not some hotel.”

oh, this smug asshole. you were about to really let him have it when a low voice interrupted from behind the fence.

“you got a problem, lady?”

you turned, eyes narrowing as you saw two inmates standing near the fence, both of them massive. tattoos snaked up their arms, and they looked rough. you’d seen them with rafe before.

maxwell glanced back at them, trying to act tough, “excuse me, but this is a private conversation.”

“private? you’re out here talking loud enough for the whole yard to hear. we heard what you said.” he tilted his head toward you, eyes narrowing on maxwell. “sounds like you’re disrespecting cameron’s girl.”

maxwell stammered, suddenly not so confident. “i—i’m just trying to explain that a conjugal visit is complicated. there are rules—”

“we don’t care.”

the second maxwell started running his mouth, you could already tell he had no idea who he was dealing with. he was still trying to act like he had the upper hand, like he was some big-shot lawyer who could push people around. you almost pitied him. almost. but honestly, he deserved what was coming.

“you’re not gonna get away with this,” he snapped, all bravado, puffing out his chest like that was going to make him any less pathetic. “you think you can intimidate me? i’ll have you all locked up for life if you so much as lay a finger on me.”

you rolled your eyes behind your sunglasses. what an idiot.

the bigger inmate—tank, you’d heard people call him—reached through the fence with a broomstick.

you hadn’t even noticed it before, but he must’ve grabbed it from somewhere nearby. he jabbed it into maxwell’s shoulder, not hard enough to really hurt him, but enough to make his point. maxwell jumped back like he’d been electrocuted.

“hey! what the—” he shouted, trying to step out of range, but tank just laughed and poked him again, this time aiming lower, jabbing him in the ribs.

“you don’t make the rules here, old man,” tank sneered, poking him once more, this time a little harder. “you’re gonna learn that the hard way if you don’t shut your mouth. apologize!”

maxwell’s face was turning red now, panic setting in as he tried to dodge the broomstick, but the other guy grabbed the handle, keeping it steady while tank prodded him over and over, relentless.

“i swear to god,” maxwell was screaming now, voice cracking. “i’ll have the guards throw you in solitary! you’ll never see daylight again, i’ll make sure you rot in here!”

the inmates just laughed, like his threats were some kind of joke. and honestly, they were. you watched, arms crossed, completely unbothered, as maxwell flailed, trying to keep his balance while other inmates jabbed other broomsticks at him, from every side, like he was nothing more than a punching bag.

“you hear that, boys?” tank said, grinning as he poked maxwell one more time. “he’s gonna get us locked up for life! like we’re not already in here.” the other inmate burst out laughing. a few more guys started drifting closer to the fence, watching with interest. “apologize!”

maxwell’s face was pure panic now. “stop it!” he screamed, backing up so far he was almost falling over. “i’m serious, i’ll call the warden, i’ll—this is all her fault, if she wasn’t such a goddamn horny b—”

you gasped, insulted, ready to read him to filth but the inmates beat you to it.

“do it,” the second guy sneered, his voice low and threatening. “see if we care. you think we don’t know how to make things happen? you’d be gone before you even got your phone call.”

a few of them started yelling, and jeering, like they were ready to jump in, too. maxwell’s eyes darted around, realizing that this was spiraling out of control.

“you idiots!” he screeched, his voice high-pitched and panicky. “you’ll start a riot! they’ll lock all of you down—no more yard, no more visits, nothing! you’re gonna screw yourselves over!”

but they didn’t care. the guys on the yard were getting riled up now, shouts echoing across the open space. some of them were banging on the fence, rattling it hard enough to make it shake.

“apologize to the lady!”

one of the other inmates reached through the fence, grabbing at his sleeve, yanking him forward. maxwell screamed, struggling to pull away, but the guy held on tight, his grip ironclad.

“come on, boys!” someone yelled from the yard, and suddenly it was like the floodgates had opened. more and more inmates rushed toward the fence, shouting, banging on the metal, some of them reaching through, trying to get a piece of the action, “apologize!”

you adjusted your sunglasses and turned to leave, your heels clicking against the pavement. you hope they kill him for you.

˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆˚୨୧⋆｡˚

you were dressed to the nines, as usual, in a designer dress that probably cost more than what the guards made in a month. even in this drab setting, you looked like you belonged on a yacht, not here, in some depressing room meant for criminals and their girlfriends.

you strutted toward him, your lips glossed to perfection, knowing full well that the bratty smile curling your mouth would drive him insane.

it always did.

rafe was already sitting there, arms crossed, looking as exasperated as you’d ever seen him.

his jaw was clenched, and the muscles there twitched. he was not happy.

you smirked. of course, you weren’t expecting a warm welcome, but at least you got to see him.

“hi, baby,” you purred, batting your lashes as if you weren’t here to make his day harder. “missed me?”

he just stared at you for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyes squeezed shut like he was trying to find some ounce of patience. then he let out this long, heavy sigh, rubbing his hand down his face before finally looking at you again.

“you—” he started, then stopped, poking his tongue against the inside of his cheek in frustration. “you started a riot because you wanted a conjugal visit?”

you tilted your head innocently, like you didn’t understand why he was so worked up.

“almost,” you corrected, as if that made it any better. “it wasn’t like they actually did anything.” you waved your hand dismissively, the gloss on your lips catching the light as you smiled.

“you—” he stopped, biting the inside of his cheek again, trying to rein it in. he was always like this—prone to temper, to obsession. the need to control everything. especially you. “do you know how close it came to getting out of control? the guards were ready to lock the whole place down. for days. you think that would’ve been good for me, huh?”

you shrugged, not really fazed.

“he was being a dick to me, baby. what was i supposed to do? that lawyer was useless. i wasn’t just going to stand there and let him talk to me like that.”

his eyes dropped to your mouth, unable to resist.

“he was the best lawyer in the fucking county.”

“they clearly need new ones then.”

rafe groaned, trying to keep from losing it completely.

“he almost called me a bitch!”

“were you acting like one?”

“and so what if i was?” you leaned back, crossing your arms, the movement accentuating your designer dress. “he was the one acting like an asshole. he’s lucky i didn’t throw my drink at him. if i’d had one.”

he looked like he was about two seconds away from unleashing his deranged side, rubbing his hand over his face again, like that was going to somehow make all of this disappear.

“you don’t get it, do you? you can’t pull this shit in here, baby. it’s not the fucking outer banks. people don’t just let you get away with whatever you want because you look good and throw money around.”

you rolled your eyes, flipping your hair over your shoulder.

“yeah, well, maybe they should. you don’t see me lowering my standards just because you’re stuck in this dump, do you?” you gestured around the room, your nose wrinkling at the depressing, beige walls. “god, i mean, who chooses these colors? it’s like they want people to lose their minds in here.”

he scoffed, “that’s what you’re worried about? the color of the walls?”

you pouted, “what else was I supposed to do? sit and wait for him to do nothing? ’m not stupid.”

"you're lucky you're even allowed in here after that stunt.”

you gave him a sweet, almost patronizing smile, teeth digging into your lower lip. "aww, baby, are you worried about me?”

"stop," he snapped, "this shit isn’t funny. you think i want to spend the next month in solitary because you couldn't keep your mouth shut?"

you didn’t flinch. in fact, you smiled even wider, enjoying how worked up he was getting.

“don’t be so dramatic. it wasn’t like anything actually happened.”

"you're out there playing power games with people who don't care about you,” he tapped two fingers against his temple, brows slightly raised,“they won’t bow down because you’ve got money or a pretty face."

"maybe not, but they’ll listen if i push hard enough," you said coolly. "and guess what? they did."

he clenched his jaw again, running his hands through his growing hair in frustration. he looked like he was fighting every instinct not to explode.

"you really think you're helping me, don’t you?"

you crossed your legs slowly, adjusting your dress so the fabric draped perfectly. “would you rather have me fuck someone else? y’know… a free man?”

that got a reaction. his eyes flickered with something dangerous, a smirk forming at the corner of his mouth as he leaned in close.

“you wouldn’t.” he whispered, the words laced with venom and amusement at the same time.

your smile turned wicked. “wouldn’t i?”

his fingers twitched on the table, the way they always did when he was seconds away from grabbing you.

“you’re really testing me right now,” he said slowly, his fingers drumming on the metal table between you. "you think ’m stuck in here, so you can play your little games? make me jealous?”

you held his gaze, unbothered, your lips curling into a defiant smile. "’m just reminding you that i have options. ones that aren’t sitting in a prison cell.”

he chuckled darkly, though there was nothing funny about the look in his eyes.

"options, huh?" his voice was edging on borderline strained. "and what makes you think i wouldn't kill any man who even looked at you?"

"you’d have to catch him first, wouldn’t you? and we both know you’re a little… tied up at the moment."

his hand shot out, gripping your lower cheecks with a force that sent you spiriling, remembering how he used to manhandle you anytime he got his hands on you, your faces were almost touching.

his eyes were wild. possession. obsession. the kind of dark love that made you both feel alive.

“you’re mine. no matter where i am, no matter who else you think you can have. you’re mine.”

“then get the stupid conjugal visit,” you hissed through your teeth, “’m horny.”

“’m not asking you. ’m telling you. you don’t have options sweetheart. you never did.”

you felt your pulse quicken.

god, he was insane, but that’s what made it so intoxicating.

he was right. no matter what you said or did, no matter how much you tried to push his buttons, it always came back to one thing: you belonged to him.

“i’ll get you your damn visit,” he continued, his voice dropping lower, “but ’m not doing it because you demanded it. ’m doing it because you need to be reminded of something.” he leaned back, letting go of your face, his fingers printed into your cheeks, keeping his eyes locked on yours, “you’re mine. and i’ll make sure you remember that.”

you rubbed where his grip had been, the throbbing sensation making it clear that he hadn’t lost his touch—he never did.

you grinned as you leaned forward, closing the space between you two again, “i’ll be waiting, baby.”

rafe’s smirk widened, his eyes burning with that possessive glint you knew all too well. there was no escaping him, not that you really wanted to.

“enjoy your time behind bars,” you added, standing up slowly, your movements deliberate, making sure he had a full view of your ass as you walked toward the exit. “maybe i’ll find a way to keep myself busy until you get out.”

he didn’t answer, but you could feel his eyes burning into your back as you left the room.

you knew you were pushing him, playing with fire, but that’s how you both liked it. this was the game you played. you couldn’t wait for him to remind you exactly who you belonged to.

[meangirls-imagines]

Protective Plastic

Description: Everyone in North Shore knows that Reader and the Plastics are in a polyamorous relationship. Guys still make nasty comments about them. Reader has a very short temper. It breaks at a party after Shane tries to corner Regina.

WARNINGS: mentions of blood, fighting, injury, alcohol consumption, minor weed consumption, the plastics being soft for their girl.

Everyone thank @yungpoetfics for inspiring me to write this.

Bubs. Thank you for rambling about mean girls with me and fueling my ideas! I luv u!

The party at Jake's was in full swing by the time Y/N pulled up to the house. She sighed before parking near the familiar jeep. She turned her car off and grabbed the pre-rolled joints she brought and got out of her car.

She had promised her girlfriends that she would come to the party. She didn't want to, she'd rather be at home smoking and enjoying her Friday night but her girlfriends gave her those damn puppy eyes and she couldn't resist.

She trudged up the front yard, passing a few passed out teenagers as she walked into the house.

The music was blasting and Y/N could already not hear herself think. All she wanted to do was find her girlfriends, but with the amount of people in the house, it was going to take forever. So, she grabbed herself a beer and headed out to the backyard where everyone was smoking or quietly talking amongst themselves.

She pulled out her phone to text the girls where she was so they could find her. She put the phone back in her pocket and pulled out her lighter and one of the joints.

She lit the joint and took a pull as Karen made her way out of the house. The girl scanned the yard before her eyes landed on Y/N. She lit up and walked over to Y/N, plopping herself in the girl's lap.

"Hi baby!" Y/N kissed Karen and smiled, offering the joint to the girl, who excitedly took it and took a pull. "You look so pretty, angel. How is your night going?" Karen blushed and handed the joint back to her girlfriend.

"Much better now that you're here! Gretchen and I were dancing a lot and Regina even joined us." Y/N smiled. As if she was summoned, Gretchen came out the back door, instantly seeing her girls and quickly walking over to them.

"Corazón!" Y/N smiled brightly at the girl as she sat down next to her, gently guiding her into a bruising kiss. Y/N moaned into it as Gretchen slid her tongue into her mouth. The two made out for a minute before pulling away.

Y/N looked at Gretchen with a smirk on her face. "Where did that come from?" Gretchen smirked back. "I've missed you, amor." Y/N smiled and pecked her lips. "I missed you too. Where's Gina?"

Gretchen motioned for the joint. "She's getting us drinks. She'll be out in a minute." Y/N nodded and continued talking to her girls as they passed the joint around. By the time the joint was finished, Regina still hadn't come out.

Y/N decided to go check on the blonde, handing the second joint to Karen and Gretchen along with her lighter, before venturing into the house. She searched the living room where everyone was dancing, not seeing Regina and headed to the kitchen.

What she saw made her see red and her blood boil.

Regina looked very uncomfortable as she was pressed up to the counter by none other than Shane Oman.

Y/N stormed over to where her girlfriend was and cleared her throat. Regina looked relieved to see her girlfriend as Shane turned around annoyed. "I think my girlfriend wants you to leave her alone, Shane."

The boy looked at Y/N annoyed. "Was I asking you, Y/N? No. Let Regina talk for herself." He turned back to the blonde and Y/N grabbed his shoulder to turn him once again.

"I don't care if you were asking me or not, she isn't interested." Shane glared at the girl before smirking. "Oh, I see. You wanna play hero. It's not going to end well for you. So back off." Y/N shoved him. "Shut up, Oman. You're just jealous my silicone dick is bigger than your actual dick."

Shane snapped and swung, connecting with Y/N's cheek. Regina gasped as Y/N recovered quite quickly before throwing herself at the boy.

Fists were wild flying as the two tussled on the ground. A crowd had formed and people were recording. Regina was screaming at the two to stop, trying to get someone to help her.

Shane had the upper hand, he had Y/N pinned down and was raining punches down on her face. Y/N had a major cut above her eyebrow and her nose was bleeding. She managed to get a knee up and knee the boy in the back, quickly getting the upper hand back.

At this point, Karen and Gretchen had ran back in the house and caught a glimpse of the chaos unfolding. Y/N managed to get a few good hits on Shane before she was pulled off by Aaron.

The two were a mess, blood all over their faces and knuckles. The girls automatically went to Y/N, immediately fussing over her as Shane was getting held back by a couple of football players. Jake had made his way to the commotion, breaking up the crowd and kicking Shane out.

He apologized to the girls for Shane before taking his leave. Regina stood in front of Y/N as she leaned back on the counter for support. Her girlfriends stood in front of her, assessing her injuries as the girl swayed. "We have to get her home. Gretchen, can you drive her car to my house?"

As the four made it back to Regina's house, Regina and Karen helped Y/N out of the Jeep, Gretchen coming to help. The three guided Y/N to Regina's room, before letting her lay down on the huge bed. The three sprung into action, Karen grabbing water and a snack for Y/N, Gretchen grabbing clothes, and Regina grabbing the first aid kit out of her bathroom.

Regina decided to clean Y/N up before she got changed and she pulled out alcohol pads, Y/N immediately cringing. Regina smiled at the girl. "Baby. I know you hate it, but I don't need that cut to get infected. It's gonna sting."

Gretchen and Karen held Y/n's hands as Regina cleaned her face up. Y/N hissed in pain as Regina gently wiped the cuts. Gretchen and Karen decided to take the time to clean Y/N's hands, gently wiping the dried blood off.

After the girls were done, they helped Y/N change before changing themselves and sandwiched Y/N in bed. Y/N laid in-between Karen and Gretchen who ran their fingers through her hair. Regina was spooning Karen and also holding Y/N's hand, gently rubbing her bruised knuckles with her thumb.

"Thank you for protecting me tonight, Y/N. I really appreciate it, baby." Y/N squeezed the blonde's hand. "Anything for you baby. I'd do anything for all three of you."

The girls voiced their gratitude and gently lulled Y/N to sleep, exhausted from the chaos.

[cqusedcarsuperstore]

The Environmental Benefits of Buying Used Hybrid Cars

In today's fast-paced world, where environmental concerns are becoming more critical than ever, making eco-friendly choices is not just a trend, but a responsibility. One area where individuals can significantly contribute to a greener planet is through their choice of transportation.

Used cars for sale are an attractive option, and when they come in the form of a hybrid vehicle, the benefits to both your wallet and the environment are noteworthy.

In this article, we'll explore why opting used cars for sale near me is a smart decision that carries a positive impact on our planet.

Reduced Carbon Footprint

One of the most compelling reasons to consider used cars for sale near me is their potential to shrink your carbon footprint. Hybrids combine a traditional gasoline engine with an electric motor, resulting in reduced fuel consumption and fewer tailpipe emissions.

By purchasing a used hybrid, you're extending the life of a vehicle that has already done its initial environmental harm.

Improved Fuel Efficiency

The combination of an internal combustion engine and an electric motor in hybrid cars leads to exceptional fuel efficiency. When you buy a used hybrid, you're embracing a vehicle that's designed to make the most out of every gallon of fuel.

This not only saves you money at the pump but also contributes to lower demand for fossil fuels. As the automotive industry moves towards electric and hydrogen-powered vehicles, buying a used hybrid is a stepping stone in the right direction.

Read More: Best Used Cars for Sale Near Me

Conservation of Resources

Used cars for sale don't just benefit the environment by being hybrids; they also promote the responsible use of resources. Manufacturing automobiles demands significant raw materials and energy.

By choosing a used hybrid, you're indirectly reducing the demand for new vehicles, which in turn decreases the resources required for manufacturing. This conservationist approach aligns with the ethos of sustainability and ensures that valuable resources are used efficiently.

Encouraging Technological Progress

Supporting the market for used hybrid cars encourages automakers to continue developing and refining hybrid technology. As more people opt for these vehicles, manufacturers are driven to innovate, making hybrids even more efficient and eco-friendly.

Your decision to purchase a used hybrid car sends a clear signal that consumers prioritise environmentally-conscious options, thus motivating the industry to push the boundaries of sustainable transportation.

Financial Friendliness

Apart from the evident environmental advantages, opting for used hybrid cars for sale also presents financial benefits. The initial depreciation hit that new cars experience doesn't affect used cars to the same degree.

This means you get a more cost-effective deal on a vehicle that's still high in quality and reliability. The money saved can be channelled towards other eco-friendly investments or experiences that bring you closer to nature.

Setting a Green Example

Leading by example is a potent way to influence others positively. When you choose a used hybrid, you showcase your commitment to the environment, inspiring friends, family, and acquaintances to consider similar choices. Your decision becomes a conversation starter, allowing you to share the perks of owning a used hybrid and the broader impact it has on preserving the planet.

Conclusion

The world needs more champions for sustainability, and your choice of transportation can position you as one. Opting for used cars for sale near me merges the advantages of a reduced carbon footprint, improved fuel efficiency, resource conservation, technological progress, financial savings, and the opportunity to set a green example.

By taking this step, you contribute to a healthier planet today and a brighter, greener tomorrow.

So, as you embark on your next vehicle journey, consider the used hybrid option - not just for the road ahead, but for the planet's future too.

Source: https://cqusedcarsuperstore.wordpress.com/2023/09/01/the-environmental-benefits-of-buying-used-hybrid-cars/

[lixiesfreckless]

Into It | b. c.

➸ synopsis: the california sunset looks pretty damn good when you're on the hood of Chan's car.

➸ starring: bang chan x female reader

➸ word count: 3k

➸ general content: best friend!chan, car sex, drunk sex, chan is lowkey obsessed with you, mutual pining, dirty talk

➸ warnings: lots of swearing, sexual content, alcohol consumption, mentions of california(LMAO east coast on top)

➸ rating: 18+ MA

➸ author’s note: another oldie but goodie! also I don't even bias chan but I literally went insane writing this so what does that mean-

♫ into it- chase atlantic

Far away.

You feel like your mind is so far away.

The engine roars in your ears as you and Chan zip around the outskirts of downtown Los Angeles, convertible top down to let the wind whip through the vehicle. 

Your hand dangles outside the car door, lazily twirling a half empty bottle of beer in your fingertips as you fully sink into the car seat. Your thoughts are fuzzy, his music is loud, and the breeze is enough to keep you from getting too hot. 

This is as close as you can get to bliss.

Palm trees lining the road, orange and magenta in the sky, hell— if heaven didn’t look like this, did you even want to go?

The car slows down enough for Chan to make a right turn, angling the two of you to a desert close to where they host raves and concerts every summer. By the time the current song stops playing, Chan is pulling the convertible off the road, driving over hardened clay and rocks until he’s about 50 yards away from the asphalt.

“Pass me one of those,” he says, putting the car in park and slumping into the seat. You reach down to the six pack of beer near your feet and pass one to him, bringing your own bottle up to your lips as he takes it.

The guy sticks the cap between his teeth, cracking it open with a sharp twist of his arm, and flicks the cap into the cup holder.

“That’s one way to crack open a cold one,” you chuckle, taking another swig.

“Too bad I’m not with the boys…” he sighs, narrowly dodging a swat from your hand as he laughs.

“Hush, I’m better than the boys.”

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, letting the troubles of the week dissolve under the tangy taste of the alcohol and the bass from the speakers.

You can’t remember exactly when you started spending your Friday nights like this, driving to random places in the passenger seat of Chan’s car. Usually you’d prefer to spend your nights indoors, but with him, it was never overwhelming. He was your weekly dose of adventure, and you became addicted easily.

But how could you not when he was so…Chan?

He always knew what songs to play, what you felt like talking about, what kind of view would cheer you up— he became someone that knew you better than your best friend, even.

And there was something so disarming about his vintage band tees, beat up converse, blond curls and dimples— especially his dimples. They were a weapon and he used them.

And they reappear right as you notice you’re staring at him. Serves you right for zoning out in his general direction.

“Something on your mind?” He chuckles, and you pop the passenger door open, shaking your head.

“Nope. Just need to stretch.”

You walk around to the front of the car, and the shell dips slightly once you perch on the hood.

This beer is defective, you decide. Alcohol is supposed to blur your thoughts, not sharpen them.

And yet all you can think about is the man moving to lean against the front of the car, standing just a foot away from you.

Your mind pretends not to notice the way Chan’s gaze lingers on your lips, almost glazing over every time you take a swig from the bottle in your hand. Your body however, burns. Reacts like water on hot oil. It feels like every cell is dancing in the remnants of the sunset when he looks at you. 

It might just be the alcohol though.

You lean back and lie on the hood of the car, using your hands as a makeshift pillow behind your head as you watch the sky turn an even deeper shade of pink. Chan takes one glance at you and takes a long sip of beer as he quickly looks away, pushing the sight of your shirt riding up your torso far back into his mind. The…things he could do there-

“Shit, how many of those have we gone through,” you mumble, lazily shifting your eyes up to the sky.

“Uh, four?” Chan glances back at you, mentally cursing at the way your face matches the sky above, dusted with pink. He doesn’t know it’s from you staring at his arm veins. “We have water in the back if you want some-”

“No, no I’m good.” Your voice sounds like honey to him; maybe he should pass the bottle back to you, just so you’ll stay quiet. “Just feeling more than a little buzzed.” 

“Oh yeah?” He chuckles, and the huskiness in his voice practically pokes you in the side. “Now would be the best time to do something crazy then.”

“Something crazy?” You laugh out loud, then sit up slightly on the hood, leaning back on your elbows. “There’s nothing but desert for miles. What are we supposed to do-”

Your sentence stops dead in its tracks as your eyes meet with Chan’s, the heat rushing to your gut all at once as the wind blows his blond curls into his eyes. He doesn’t even hesitate this time; his eyes wander lower and lower on your face until they land on your bottom lip, trapped between your teeth. 

“God, why do you always do that…” he whispers, shifting his gaze back to the road.

…What? 

The wind whistles in your ears as you feel them growing hotter, unsure what to make of his sudden statement.

“Do…do what?” He looks back at you with tortured eyes, as if you’re the only water in the California desert.

“Bite your lip like that; it makes me think-” he stops and drains the rest of the bottle in his hand, then leaves it on the hood and shakes his head. “Never mind. I’m gonna turn the music up.”

Your eyes follow him as he trails along the side of the car, and you feel a certain window of opportunity beginning to close. Summoning most of your courage, you jump off the hood and walk up behind Chan, waiting for him to finish messing with the stereo before tapping him on the back.

“Yeah?” He turns around and barely has any time to think before you’re pressing on his shoulders, pulling him down slightly as you crash your lips onto his. He immediately catches your waist, letting out a surprised muffle that dissolves into a sigh as he pulls you against him.

You break apart after a moment, lips still tingly and buzzing with excitement, but you wonder if you’ve made the right decision as you look up at Chan, who still has his eyes closed.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, finally looking down at you with a flushed face.

“Not drunk enough.” You twist the shoulder seams of his shirt between your fingers in consideration. “I’m sober enough to know that look. And if you don’t do something about it, then I-”

“You want me to do something about it?” He pulls your hips tight against his, and now that you’re leaning on him, you can feel the bass from the car reverberating through both of you. That combined with the buzz of the alcohol and his hands on your bare midriff nearly sends you over the edge, but you keep your composure.

And by that you mean you pounce on him— you love his voice, but you’re tired of talking about something you could be doing.

If you both were a little less tipsy, the kisses would probably be less frantic. But neither of you seem to care, hands grabbing at each other desperately as you search for better ways to pull each other closer.

“You have no idea,” he pants between kisses, “you have no fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted this.” You shudder into his lips, raking through his blond locks and tugging at the ends as Chan’s grip tightens on your hips. He takes a sharp inhale before picking you up, waiting for you to latch your legs around his torso before he slides his arms under your legs. As he walks around the car, you both never separate; you’re actually surprised when you feel the cool metal of the hood come into contact with the backs of your thighs.

He nestles himself between your legs, resting his hands on your thighs and tracing the distressed hem of your denim skirt as the bass of the song picks up. You’re lucky you’re on the hood and not the trunk; the subwoofers vibrating against you would have been too much for sure. 

He pulls away from your lips, dipping his head to catch his breath as he pants into the crook of your neck. To him, this is insane. He has you on the hood of his car. He has you on the hood of his car.

How is a man supposed to think straight in this situation? 

Meanwhile, his hot breath on your neck is driving you to the brink of insanity. Just a raise of your shoulder and he’d be kissing it. Shoot, he could make you crazy with his fingers just an inch higher too.

“Chan,” you whisper, not realizing how close your breathy voice was to his ear, and the last of his resolve practically evaporates off of him.

“Y/n…” his nose follows the curve of your neck as he makes his way up to your face, “tell me if I need to stop, I just…”

He hooks his hands around your knees and pulls, effectively pinning your hips together in a casual display of strength, and you gasp before he seizes your bottom lip between his, sucking and biting until a soft moan slips from your lips.

“Fuck, make that sound again,” he groans, hands sliding back up your thighs to the hem of your shirt. You relent, no longer keeping your sighs and sounds of pleasure to yourself as his hands slide under your crop top, around to your back.

He makes quick work of your bra, releasing the tension around your ribcage before sliding his thumbs along the underside of your breasts. Just thinking about all of the things he could do to you has both of you buzzing with anticipation, panting against each other’s mouths.

His thumb just barely grazes your nipple and you swear you see the world begin to tilt.

You don’t know what it is; normally a gesture that small wouldn’t elicit such a reaction out of you, but the alcohol in your veins and the bass under your thighs seem to bring every motion of his straight to your core. And usually you’d be embarrassed at how loud you are, but you can’t bring yourself to care. Not when he continues just like that, both thumbs barely putting any pressure on the peaks under your shirt.

Your head lolls back slightly, and Chan wastes no time in licking a thin stripe up the column of your neck, stopping right at the shell of your ear.

“Ideally, I’d want to take my time with you, but right now…” his voice is thick with lust as he flicks both of your nipples, and you jolt forward. “I don’t think you’d want me to.”

“Chan, please,” you gasp out, wanting to press your thighs together, “get on with it already.”

He obliges you, hands sliding down to your skirt and then back up under it, looking for the edge of your panties. Once he has them, he pulls them down and over your Nike blazers, tossing them into the convertible onto the passenger seat.

He then reaches behind you, pushing two empty bottles off the car as he presses you flat against the hood. The sound of the bottles breaking against the rocky terrain is barely registered by you though, you’re more focused on Chan’s free hand snaking back up your skirt.

Curses slip out of his mouth once his thumb brushes across your clit; he’s more than shocked to feel just how soaked you are, but you shake your head vigorously, catching his attention.

“Skip it,” you say breathlessly, looking directly into his eyes. He understands instantly, coffee colored eyes practically turning coal black seeing your desperation.

The sky seems to swirl different shades of purple and pink as the wind feathers over your body, and just past the contrails in the sky, you can see the stars beginning to poke their faces into the rosy backdrop.

There is a very real possibility that you are dreaming all of this.

But the sound of his zipper being pulled down snaps your senses into focus, and the possibility of Chan fucking you under a sky like this seems more urgent.

The next minute flies by, and before you know it Chan is lining himself up at your entrance, checking that the condom is on properly before lifting your skirt to your hips.

His eyes flicker to yours momentarily, and you nod before relaxing fully, letting your head rest against the hood as he holds onto your hips tightly.

And then you instantly tense up once he starts pushing into you.

It’s almost embarrassing how easy it is for him to slide in without really touching you, but the hiss he draws between his teeth tells you he’s not really focusing on that.

You’re focusing on how you didn’t catch a glimpse of him before he put it in, and now your entire lower abdomen is tingling in excitement over just how much of him there is. Silly how you were trying to sober up for this moment, only for you to feel high all over again with him fully inside you.

“I- shit, okay wow,” he hisses, dragging himself out and back in slowly. “You’re so warm, god-”

You can’t even respond, you’re so occupied by the feeling of his ridges along your walls that your fingers are already looking for something to grab onto.

Somehow in the haze of it all, you still want to urge him deeper, so you wrap your legs around his waist and watch as he tilts his head back, eyes fluttering closed mid-thrust.

“Oh fuck,” he moans, picking up the pace and holding your hips tighter as you whine, feeling him finally start to brush one of your sensitive spots.

Chan cannot process the scene playing out in front of him. You’re draped over the hood of his car, taking what he’s giving you so easily, face flushed and hair falling over your face from the wind. Your shirt is halfway up your torso, but your skirt is up six inches too high, high enough to see where he's sheathing himself inside of you. He couldn’t make this up if he tried.

The pressure building inside of you jumps to the next level once his hand slides up your shirt again, gently rubbing circles over your nipple as opposed to the faster thrusts down below. Your back arches into his hand as you gasp, squeezing your thighs around him tighter as you do so.

“Chan,” you whine, scratching your nails against the car, and a few more curses tumble out of his mouth as he stares down at you. 

“You’re so good y/n,” he pants, snapping his hips against you now, “better than I- ah, I imagined.”

“You’ve thought about this before?” You’re cut off by another moan; it’s a miracle how you can even speak.

Chan doesn’t reply; instead, he hooks his hands under your knees and drops them on his shoulders, then scoops his hands back under your hips and pulls them to his with a quick snap.

“I’ve thought about this before,” he says with a wicked grin, hitting you at just the right angle to pull a sharp gasp out from your lips.

“Oh my god, there-” you moan breathlessly, pressing your hands flat onto the hood of the car as he pounds into you relentlessly.

The sky is spinning. Your heart is pounding. You wish you could focus on something, anything other than the spongy part of you that Chan is hitting to the beat of the song under you, just so you could last a little bit longer. 

But the sight of him with your legs around his neck, eyes closed with strands of gold wisping across his face, the look of pure ecstasy painted across his cheeks, ensures that you have close to three seconds before the knot in your stomach unravels.

“Shit, don’t stop,” you say as you feel yourself coming undone, back arching into your release which only makes Chan pound deeper, heightening the intensity tenfold.

He cries out once you clamp down around him, spitting out random strings of curses until he’s emptying his restraint into the condom, slowing down his thrusts as he finally opens his eyes again, locking gazes with you.

He looks nothing short of ethereal with the now purple backdrop of the sky, framing his blond locks with lilac clouds as he slowly pulls out of you, doing his best not to overstimulate you. You almost tell him not to; being that full was nice, something you’d probably never admit unless you were actually drunk.

“Wow,” you breathe out, watching him lower your legs down to the hood. “That was…”

“Crazy, I know,” he laughs, still trying to calm his breathing as he looks at you. “But you were amazing, holy shit-”

“…better than the boys?” You tease, smirking up at him. 

He gives you a knowing look, picking up on the funny way you worded the question. But instead of getting flustered, he leans over the hood, caging you against it with his arms.

“Hmm…I don’t know. I think I’d have to try this a couple of times before I can give you a definite answer.”

[ababanerb]

meet me in the rain -sebastian sdv

AO3 is linked here

summary: Sebastian has a list of reasons why he wants to leave Pelican Town that goes on for miles. The only thing he'd stay for is the rain, or that's what he tells himself. The rain gives him one more reason to stay.

wc: 1655

Sebastian is only four when his mom moves them out to the valley. It’s a new house, a new town, a new dad, a new yard, and it feels a little like he has a new mom, too. His bedroom is upstairs, just down the hall from his mom and Demetrius, and it still smells like the sealant and varnish his mom had used when she’d built the house.

But he’s not home.

His home is still in Zuzu. The cramped little apartment with the park just a couple blocks away and the coffee shop his mom would take him to when his dad was particularly mad. He misses his dad, even though his dad scared him. His home is the four cramped walls that had been his and Robin’s when she’d taken him and run to the closest domestic violence shelter. It’s wood shavings in a little pile on the tiny kitchen table only a few feet from their bed as she carves him a new toy because she can’t afford him any real toys.

They’d been real to him, though. 

So, he hates, with all he can, he hates this new town, and this new house, and his new dad who isn’t his dad at all. He hates his new room, hates his new toys, misses his old ones carved from pieces of scrap wood his mom had found. 

But mostly, he hates how quiet it is.

In the city, there had been no shortage of noise. The little window mounted A/C unit had always hummed noisily in his ear, and there had always been noise out on the street no matter the time of day. Cars honking, and the upstairs neighbors shuffling noisily above him as the TV played in the living room.

In Pelican Town, though, it’s near silent. The A/C sits on a concrete pad outside and the air hums near silently through the vents. There are no people or cars outside to make noise, and his mom and Demetrius don’t watch any TV after nine. 

But he does like the rain. 

He likes it when his mom takes him out in it. Her belly heavy with a little sister he’s not-so-sure about, and he’s dressed in a green raincoat with little round flaps on the hood that are meant to be frog eyes. And she stands a few feet behind him as he races around the bank of the lake near their new home and hunts for frogs in the bushes. Cheering with him when he races back, frog cupped in his hand, to display his catch with a wide grin of pride.

“It rains different here,” He tells his mom, hand held securely in hers as they walk back to the house, thoroughly soaked even despite their raincoats. There’s a frog in his pocket that he hopes she won’t find when she helps him out of his coat inside. 

“How do you mean, Sebby?” She asks, and he giggles as she walks him in a zig-zag the rest of the way to their front door. A game they can still play even with her swollen belly.

“It’s just different.”

She laughs, and he shrieks with laughter when she tickles his ribs after she finds the frog he’d hidden in his coat pocket. And he decides, right then and there, that if he can have rains like this, then it’ll be okay.

And it is. It’s okay, that when Maru gets big enough to need her own room, he gets to move down into the basement — it’s actually more than okay, but no one needs to know that. It’s okay that his parents' attention has shifted away from him, because how else would he get into all the trouble he does without getting caught. 

It’s by no means great. He still wants to go back to Zuzu, still wants out of Pelican Town. Want somebody, anybody to acknowledge his work as something more than surfing the internet. Or attract a girl that isn’t a special breed of crazy that wants to fix him – because he’s not broken, fuck you very much.

But he never ever wants to give up the rain in the Valley.

So, it’s all fine, really. 

When the weather’s good, he makes the trip out to his lookout just before sunset. Or if it’s even better and he has the time, he’ll make the trip into the city, and check out the old apartment building he and his mom had lived in. Pick up a new figure for his weekly Solarion Chronicles sessions with Sam, and get coffee in a cafe in historic downtown Zuzu and wish he could have grown up there instead of in Pelican Town.

Until he meets the farmer. Or rather, the farmer meets him.

Because, well, he already knows about the farmer. About you. He doesn’t know anybody in town who doesn’t know about you. Or about your dead grandfather, or about how you’d moved out to Hicksville-nowhere on a whim.

You can thank Lewis for that.

So, thanks to word of mouth and a town rumor mill so fast it should really be its own newspaper, he feels it’s safe to say that he knows you as much as he needs to know you. All without ever meeting you. He knows what your favorite color is, he’d heard it from his mom who’s heard it from Jodi, who’d heard it from Caroline, who’d heard it from Emily, who’d overheard you mention it to Haley one time. He knows everything he needs to know about you, all without meeting you.

Then, he meets you, by total chance. 

It’s Winter, nearly a whole year now since you’d moved into town, and it seems to him that you’ve met everyone but him. Although he's not complaining, he hadn’t made the effort to try and meet you either. 

It’s raining, the day you meet him, thunder booming in the distance, the sky lighting up with flashes of lightning. He’s standing at the end of the docks, soaked through to the bone, hair plastered to his forehead as he tries and fails to get his cigarette to stay lit. Willy had gone back into his home hours ago, gruffly warning Sebastian to go home before he got himself sick.

He stays anyway. After all, he likes the rain.

He doesn’t run around chasing frogs anymore. Can’t remember the last time he’d fell flat in the mud when he’d dove for a frog, lungs burning with exertion. Can’t remember the last time he’d shoved frogs in pocket, wanting to take them home as pets.

But that’s okay, because even though he’s changed, the rain hasn’t.

He’s so lost in thought, fingers trembling as he tries to get his lighter to hold a flame long enough to get his cigarette going, that he doesn’t notice you coming down the dock towards him. Your boots clomping wetly against the rain soaked planks as you approach.

“Need a light?” You ask, still relatively dry beneath your raincoat layered over your thick winter coat. Whatever hair you’d left peeking out from beneath the hood of your raincoat is plastered to your face, thin rivulets of water running down your temples.

You beam widely at him, opening up your coat and digging your own lighter from the inside pocket and lighting it up in the dry space near your torso, “Come on, hurry!” You tell him, and he fumbles with his pack of cigarettes, fingers numb and shaking as he pulls a fresh cigarette from the carton and presses one end into the flame of your lighter.

“Thanks,” He says after a moment, when he settles the cigarette between his lips, and you’ve tucked your lighter back into your coat and zipped yourself back into the warm layers of your winter wear.

You hum, hands shoved deep in your pockets as you stare out over the sea.

“Of all the places you could live,” He starts after a moment, smoke billowing from his mouth and nose, “You chose Pelican Town?”

You shrug, “I didn’t exactly get to choose.”

“Oh.”

It’s silent again, rain pounding against the wooden planks of the dock, and the choppy surf lapping at the shore. 

“I like the rain here, though,” You say after a moment, feet shuffling awkwardly, “It’s different than the city.”

And that’s all he needs to know.

“Me, too,” He says, lips quirking up with a near invisible smile as he offers his cigarette to you.

You take it.

Yeah, Sebastian thinks, years later, from his place on the couch in your house that has also become his home, his laptop humming loudly in his lap as the fan fights for its life to run his coding software, I like the rain.

It’s raining again, not that either of you mind, curled up on the couch together with the TV playing in the background. It’s all the noise he’d loved in the city, minus the yelling and the actual city. There’s a terrarium in his office, the space you’d carved out just for him, and he can hear his pet frogs croaking happily even in the living room. His mug sits on top of the coffee machine in the kitchen, and his keys have their own hook by the door. There’s an ashtray out on the porch railing for him, too, green frogs painted and glazed over on the sides. 

“Your laptop sounds like it’s fucking dying, Seb,” You remark to him, voice dancing over a quiet laugh, your feet tucked beneath his thighs, “Is it time for an upgrade?”

“Yeah,” He sighs, saving his work and setting his laptop down on the coffee table as he turns to you with a smile, “But that would mean a trip into Zuzu.”

“Okay, and you love Zuzu,” You agree, a confused smile meeting his, “What’s the issue?”

“I’d rather just stay home.”

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[candycandy00]

Come Find Me - A Hawks x Reader x Dabi Horror Fanfic

You’re dating your childhood friend Touya, and things are going well, until you’re kidnapped and drugged by a serial killer named Keigo. 

Smut. 18+. Fem Reader. Dark Content. Noncon/Rape via drugging and Dubcon. Humiliation. Voyeurism. This is a dark, disturbing fic! 

Written for the Halloween challenge in the X Reader Lovers Community! Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more and @benkeibear!

You step out of your parents’ house, closing the door behind you and making sure your phone is crammed into your small purse. As you step off the porch and into the driveway, you hear a familiar voice call your name. You turn to see your next door neighbor and childhood friend Touya crossing over into your yard. 

“Goin’ somewhere?” he asks, glancing at his watch. 

“Yeah, just gotta grab a few things at the store for mom,” you reply. 

He stands there awkwardly for a moment, looking around. “It’s gettin’ pretty dark. Want me to go with you?”

You smile at his concern. The two of you are both in college, but still live in your childhood homes for now. Partly because you’re hesitant to separate. You’ve been in love with him since you were children, and only recently confessed your feelings to him. In true Touya fashion, he’d scoffed, looked away, and blushed before quietly admitting that he felt the same way. 

You’re still trying to navigate this new dynamic in your relationship. You’ve only been on a couple of dates so far, and only had your first kiss three days ago as the two of you sat on your bed watching a movie. Despite being adults, you feel like teenagers sneaking around. Touya suggested taking a weekend trip just to have some privacy. You’re excited for what might happen when you’re truly alone together.

“I’ll be fine,” you tell him. “I’m just going to the convenience store down the street.”

He frowns. “Yeah, but with those rumors going around…”

“I’ll take mom’s car, okay? Seriously, I’ll be fine. We used to walk to that store all the time when we were kids, remember?”

You understand his concern. For the past few months, women around your age have been turning up dead, their bodies butchered in horrific ways. Rumors have been going around that they all had one thing in common besides being in their early twenties. 

All of them had high levels of Cupid’s Arrow in their system.

Cupid’s Arrow is a new, very dangerous drug that you had zero interest in until the rumors started. After all, you’ve never tried anything stronger than some cheap weed Touya bought from a friend when you were both teenagers. And Cupid’s Arrow is powerful, with terrifying effects. 

Anyone given Cupid’s Arrow will immediately develop an intense romantic and sexual obsession with the first person they see after taking it. The effect is so strong that the user will do literally anything to please the object of their obsession, even if it results in great harm.

Apparently, some couples who are into more extreme activities like to try using it, and some couples have used it as a way of proving their trust in each other. And of course, like with all things, there are people who use it to abuse others, basically turning people into their own brainwashed sex slaves. 

The idea of these poor women being given the drug, being abused in some disgusting way, and then murdered while still on the drug, disturbs you greatly. The poor things probably laid there and let the killer chop them up, all the while looking at him adoringly. The thought sends shivers down your spine. 

Still, the women were all found near the city, not out in the suburbs where you live. And the store is close by. What kind of life is it if a grown woman can’t go to a store by herself? 

You give Touya a kiss on the cheek and climb into your mom’s car. “I’ll be right back,” you tell him. 

He still looks worried as he watches you pull out of the driveway, throwing his hand up in somewhat awkward wave. 

The drive there is brief and uneventful, and the small store is uncrowded. You quickly gather up the items your mom needed and a couple of snacks for yourself, then start toward the front to check out. That’s when you remember Touya waiting for you, and decide to pick up something for him. 

You head back down the snack aisle again, barely noticing the other person walking down it. You stop and look over the various bags and packages until you spot the strawberry pocky Touya loves. You smile to yourself as you reach out to grab the last pack. Suddenly, another hand is reaching toward the pocky, brushing against your own. 

You draw back, looking at the man standing next to you. He’s just a few inches taller than you, with wavy dark blonde hair and sharp, golden eyes. 

“Oh, sorry!” he says, his face breaking into a friendly smile. He’s very good looking, though you think Touya is much hotter. 

“That’s okay,” you tell him, returning the smile, “you can have it.”

“Oh no, sweetheart, you take it,” he says, flashing a grin. 

You blink at the pet name, but decide to quickly make it clear that you’re taken. “I was just picking them up for my boyfriend. I can get him something else.”

If he’s deterred at all by your comment, he doesn’t show it. Instead he grabs the pack of pocky and casually tosses them into your basket. “Don’t worry about it. I think I’m hungry for something different anyway.”

You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive or nice, so you give him an uneasy smile and nod before walking to the counter to pay, leaving him to continue browsing the snacks. 

When you step out into the cool evening air, you sigh as you hear your phone chime. You hope it’s not a message from your mom, adding another item to the list. You shift your bags to one arm and then dig your phone out of your purse, pausing in the middle of the parking lot to look at the screen. 

You smile. It’s a message from Touya, asking how the shopping trip is going. He really does worry too much. 

“Just leaving the store,” you type back. “See you soon.”

Just as you start to drop your phone back into your purse, you suddenly sense movement behind you. But before you can turn to look back, a white cloth covers your mouth and nose. You smell a strange chemical odor as your body becomes weak. Your bags, phone, and purse drop to the ground. 

A familiar, friendly voice at your ear says, “Sorry, sweetheart, but I’m taking you home with me.”

You want to fight, to struggle, but all strength has left your body. You’ve gone limp in his arms, and now, darkness overtakes you. 

When you wake up, you have no idea how much time has passed, and even less idea of where you are. It looks like the living room of a nice apartment, but it’s entirely unfamiliar to you. 

Blinking rapidly to clear your vision, you begin to notice other things. You’re sitting on a couch, still fully clothed, and your arms are tied behind your back with a very thin rope. You jerk against it, trying to pull free, but the knots are too strong. Your heart is racing and your head is pounding as you try to remember how you got here, to force the grogginess from your mind. 

You remember being at the store, paying for your items, then… someone grabbed you from behind! And now you remember the voice you heard. It was the handsome stranger from the snack aisle! Did he seriously kidnap you? 

As if the thought summoned him, he appears in a doorway, walking into the living room. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he says in that same friendly tone, as if he’s still chatting with you about pocky. He’s wearing casual clothes, ripped jeans and a white T-shirt. He looks good in them, and it makes you wonder why someone who looks like him has to resort to kidnapping women. 

Oh yeah, stuff like this is about power. He probably has no interest in girls who want him. 

“Where am I? Why did you bring me here?” you ask, trying to keep your voice calm. If there’s even a slim chance you can convince him to let you go, it’s worth trying. 

He smiles in an easy going way as he leans back against the wall. “Come on, it has to be obvious by now.”

The words, spoken so charmingly, send a jolt of fear through your heart. You look him in the eyes. “Are you going to rape me?”

He gives a dismissive wave of his hand. “That’s such a nasty term. The idea of holding down a struggling woman just doesn’t appeal to me. I want you to enjoy it too.”

You try to keep your voice even, rational. “I can’t enjoy it though. I have a boyfriend, remember?”

He laughs. “Oh don’t worry, sweetheart. You’ll forget all about him as soon as I give you this.” 

From his pocket, he pulls a small clear vial of liquid. Then he walks over to a small end table you hadn’t noticed before and picks up a syringe. You feel your heart drop to your feet as a sense of dread washes over you. 

“What is that?” you ask, already suspecting the answer but unable to process the terrible truth until he says it. 

“You’ve heard of Cupid’s Arrow, right?” he asks, still acting so friendly. 

“Please don’t do this!” you cry, jerking on the ropes again. 

He steps closer as he fills the syringe. “It’s okay! Once you take this, you’ll enjoy everything I do to you. You’ll beg for my cock. You’ll want me inside you every minute of every day,” he says, standing over you and looking down with a sultry gaze. “And I’ll make sure I keep you satisfied.”

“No!” you shout, fighting against the ropes, trying to draw back away from him. 

He presses one knee into the couch beside you and holds the syringe in front of your panicked face. “I’ll make you feel so good, I promise.”

You look up at him, tears dripping down your face. “Please… don’t! I don’t want this! I have someone I love,” you plead, your last hope being to appeal to his mercy. “I’m… I’m saving myself for him! So please…”

He pauses, a flicker of surprise on his face. Then he smiles. “In that case, I’ll be real gentle with you the first time. I’ll take good care of you.”

You’re shaking your head as he grips your shoulder, holding you steady. “Please please… don’t do this!”

As you feel the needle pierce your skin and a cold sensation flow into your body, you cry out the name of the person you wish you could see just one more time. “Touya!”

You black out again, slumping over on the couch with your hands still tied behind you. When you wake up the second time, your hands are free, but your arms are sore. You’re still wearing the same clothes you wore to the store. You try to get up from the couch, but a wave of dizziness washes over you, forcing you to sit back down. 

After giving yourself a moment for your head to clear, you slowly stand back up. You have to find a way out of here before he comes back. If you don’t look at him, the drug won’t activate. If you can just find a place to hide until it wears off, you’ll be in the clear! 

Carefully, while keeping your eyes on the floor and only occasionally glancing up at your surroundings, you navigate around the coffee table and out of the living room, to the small foyer and the front door. You try to open it, but it’s locked. Of course it is. You check the knob, but there’s some sort of electric lock device that requires you to input a code. 

Maybe there’s a back door? Or a balcony? If this is an apartment, and it’s on a low enough floor, maybe you could climb over and take your chances with a fall. A broken ankle would be better than whatever this man has planned for you. 

He’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer. You’re sure of it. You still remember the report you read about one of the women they found. She was the same age as you, in college like you. And she’d been completely gutted, all her insides on the outside, her naked, butchered body tossed by the side of a road. 

You head back through the living room, toward the back row of curtains. The balcony must be there! Just before you reach them, you feel a pair of arms wrap around your body and pull you back. 

“Where are you wandering off to?” he asks, his tone as cheerful as ever. He turns you to face him, and you slam your eyes shut. 

“Come on, sweetheart, look at me,” he says, dragging you back toward the couch. 

You shake your head, screaming “I’d rather die!” You struggle and squirm in his arms, desperate to get free, but his grip is strong. 

“Don’t say that,” he says with a light chuckle, as if your battle to escape is amusing. He pushes you down onto the couch, on your back, and you feel him climb on top of you to hold you down with his body. He smells like expensive cologne, the kind of trendy stuff Touya would never wear. 

“Open your eyes,” he says, his voice finally taking on a slightly firm tone. 

You shake your head again. “Never!”

He sighs. “I’m not so bad, right? I’m hot, I’m clean, I’m funny, and I know how to please a woman. I can make you cum until you pass out. I see the way chicks look at me. They want me. You’re pretty lucky!”

Tears are leaking out of your closed eyes. “But you’re not the man I love! I don’t care how hot you are, or any of that other stuff! I just want to be with Touya!”

He goes quiet, not speaking. Is he just waiting for you to give out and open your eyes? Or is he considering your words? Without seeing the expression on his face, you can’t tell. “Why are you even doing this? If women want you, why use the drug?”

There’s a pause, then he answers. “You’ve never seen anyone under the effects of Cupid’s Arrow, have you? Most people haven’t. It’s hard to describe how incredibly hot it is, to have someone be completely devoted to you, obsessed with you, to have someone dedicate their whole life to pleasing you. When a pretty girl is crying her eyes out because she spilled a single drop of my cum out of her cute little mouth, it just does something to me.”

You sob, realizing he’s not going to let you go, and understanding what he’s going to be doing to you. All the things you wanted to experience with Touya, you’re going to be doing them with this stranger.  

You hear him sigh again. “I really hate using force, but you’re leaving me no choice here.”

His fingers are now on your face, prying open your right eyelid. You scream and buck, trying to shake him off you, but it’s no use. He’s too strong. You’re forced to look at his handsome, friendly face. 

The effect is immediate. Your body craves him instantly, powerfully. You stare up at him with both eyes open as he climbs off you and stands up. 

You sit up, your eyes drawn to him. 

“Stand up,” he says, “and take off your clothes.”

Your body obeys, standing up from the couch and peeling off your shirt. As you strip off the rest of your clothing, you realize this nightmare is even more horrific than you thought. 

Because you’re still aware of everything. You know you’ve been drugged, you know you don’t love this man, you know you don’t want to do these things with him. You know you love Touya. 

But your body is seemingly acting on its own. It wants him, wants his touch, wants to make him happy. Even as your mind screams at the humiliation of being stark naked in front of this stranger, your body heats up with excitement. With horror, you realize you’re already dripping wet. It’s a sensation you’ve only ever felt while thinking of Touya, and it makes you feel sick now. 

When he steps closer, every cell in your body wants to reach out to him, to feel his skin. But you remain still, waiting for him to give another command. 

He reaches out one hand and brushes your hair back from your face. Just that subtle touch leaves you breathless. 

“So pretty,” he says, his golden eyes traveling up and down your body. You’ve never been more embarrassed! He takes one of your hands and leads you out of the living room, down a short hall and into a bedroom. 

You know what’s going to happen, and you’re equal parts horrified and aroused. Your mind at war with your body. You open your mouth to speak, to beg him to let you go, but instead of the words you want to say, completely different words flow out of you. 

“Please, take me,” you say, your voice a desperate plea. “I can’t wait any longer!”

He smiles, and your heart skips a beat. He’s so hot, with such beautiful eyes… no! These aren’t your thoughts! The drug is making you think these things!

“Just give me a minute,” he says, “and I’ll make you feel things you’ve never imagined.”

With that, he steps back from you and pulls off his shirt. His body is well toned, his skin smooth but for the thin trail of blonde hair leading from his navel down under the waistband of his jeans. Oh god, you want him so badly! Your juices are dripping down your thighs as you look at him. But it’s just the drug. You know that. 

He pushes you onto the bed, your back against the mattress, then climbs onto the foot of the bed, on his knees. He pushes your knees apart, spreading you open for his gleaming golden eyes to drink in. For once, the two warring sides of you have the same reaction: your heart racing wildly, but for very different reasons. 

“I said I’d make you feel good, right? So just relax,” he tells you, his warm hands sliding under your ass to lift your hips up slightly as he bends forward, licking one stripe up your drenched pussy. 

The pleasure is electric, shooting through your entire body with such a simple motion. It must be the drug. You squirm beneath him, arching your back, wanting more. And he gives you more. 

His tongue pushes in between your slick folds, quickly finding your clit and licking it with the kind of expert precision you’d expect from a guy who bragged about how much he could make you cum. You’re engulfed in pleasure, even down to your curling toes, as his lips surround the delicate nub and suck on it softly, his tongue circling the tiny tip. You’ve never felt anything so amazing in your life. 

And you hate it. Because he’s not Touya. Because he’s doing all this against your will. Because forcing you to enjoy it all with drugs only fucks up your mind even more. 

When you cum, trembling and gasping, you feel ashamed, like you betrayed the man you really love. Tears leak out of your eyes, either from being overwhelmed by pleasure or some remnant of your true feelings. The stranger raises up and brushes them away with his thumb. “It’s okay,” he tells you in a sweet voice. “Just let yourself feel it.”

His kindness makes your heart flutter. This drug is making you fall in love with him! No, that’s unbearable! He’s taking your heart as well as your body! 

He sits back on his knees in the bed, your legs still spread open before him, and unbuttons his jeans. You watch in breathless anticipation as he pulls his cock out. It’s a little longer than you expected, and much thicker. The girthy organ is already hard and glistening at the tip, ready to violate you. 

You try to will your voice to scream, your hands to shove him away, your legs to close. But your body doesn’t belong to you anymore. Cupid’s Arrow saw to that. 

The man pauses, looking down at your flushed, teary face. “Oh that’s right, I haven’t told you my name,” he says. You simultaneously have no interest in it and are dying to know. “It’s Keigo. So you know what to scream out while I’m fucking you.” 

He says the last part with a wink. As if he’s being cute, and not about to rape you. It nauseates you. “Please,” you say, your voice not belonging to you, “fuck me, Keigo!”

His eyes light up with excitement as he pulls your body down the bed, closer to him, lining himself up with your entrance. “I said this before, but I promise I’ll be gentle with you, since it’s your first time.”

You want to sob. This was supposed to happen with Touya! All you can do is close your eyes and try to block this all out as you feel him ease his way into you. As promised, he’s gentle, going very slowly and carefully. The drug is making you love it, making you want all of him inside you, filling you up completely. 

He’s stroking your hair lovingly, kissing your lips as his firm body brushes against yours. He looks so good above you, his hair falling into his eyes as he gazes down at you, his hard cock gradually pushing further into your wet, eager pussy. But you don’t want this! 

Your arms encircle his neck, pulling him closer as he finally bottoms out inside you, the stretch giving just the right amount of pleasant sting. He waits for a moment, looking into your eyes, then kisses you deeply as he begins thrusting. His tongue is in your mouth, invading it, just as his cock is invading you. His thrusts are slow and deep, intimate in a way that horrifies you. 

This isn’t a simple fucking. Even a virgin like you can tell that much. The way he’s taking his time, maintaining eye contact, caressing your body… he’s making love to you. It’s so much worse than if he’d just dragged you into an alley, fucked you, and left you behind. Because this is agonizingly slow, and it’s a violation of everything you are. 

This is going to break your mind. 

Tears are coming out again, despite your moans and cries of pleasure. Keigo pauses and wipes your tears again. “I’m not hurting you, am I?”

The question makes you want to scream. Is he really this delusional? But you smile up at him against your will and say, “No, it just feels so good!”

He smiles. “I’m glad. I want you to feel good,” he murmurs between kissing you, going back to thrusting into you again, this time a bit harder. “I want you to feel nothing but good, forever.”

One of his hands slides down between your bodies, his fingers finding and stroking your swollen clit. Your body twitches, arching against him, your breaths hitching. “Ahhh… Keigo!”

You’ve never felt anything like this, nothing so incredibly powerful. Your pussy clenches around him, desperate for him to cum inside you, your arms are around his neck, clinging to him like a true lover as he draws a second orgasm from your trembling body. 

He stares at your face as you cum, and you’ve never felt more humiliated. A stranger is seeing all these intimate parts of you, when you only ever wanted to show them to Touya. 

Keigo kisses you again, then plunges in deeply and releases his load, filling you up. You want to scream again, repulsed by the possibility of being impregnated by this monster. But your body craves it, hungers for his cum, clamps down on him to milk him completely. 

True to his word, Keigo is gentle with you for the rest of the night, even as he fucks you three more times. It’s only the beginning of your nightmare. 

************************************

Touya sits at his dad’s computer, one hand sweaty on the mouse and the other gripping his own knee strong enough to bruise it. He swallowed his pride and asked his asshole father for help after his girlfriend had been missing for three days. Being the son of the police chief had its advantages. 

His father stands behind him as he clicks play on the video file. It’s security camera footage from the convenience store she went to, on the night she disappeared. Touya watches as she walks out of the store, bags in hand. She pauses and digs her phone out of her purse. Is that when he sent her a text? 

Then a blonde man emerges from the store, goes up behind her, and holds something to her face. She struggles for a few moments, dropping all her stuff, then goes limp. 

Touya feels like he’s just watched a video of his own death. 

Someone took her, the love of his life, the girl he’s adored since he was five years old. For a man to take a woman by force this way, there’s no doubt he intends to harm her. The thought makes Touya’s blood boil. 

“Who is he?” Touya asks, his voice low.  

Touya’s father hesitates for a moment, as if he’s trying to think of the best way to say something terrible. Then he sighs and answers. “We don’t know his name, but we’ve seen him before, in other security footage.”

Touya turns around in the chair to look at his father. “Other footage? He’s been involved in other crimes?”

Again, a moment of hesitation before his father delivers the devastating answer. “He’s been seen grabbing other women this way. They were all found dead later. Touya, he’s the Cupid’s Arrow killer.”

Touya feels his heart stop, feels the entire world fall away as the words sink in. This man has her. He’s pumping her full of a drug that will turn her into his sex slave, which means he’s definitely raping her. Then he’s going to kill her in some grotesque and painful way. Touya can’t think of anything more nightmarish.  

He wants to smash the computer, charge out of his house and track that blonde asshole down. But he takes a few deep breaths and tries to calm himself down. He’ll never find his girlfriend if he lets his rage blind him. She needs him now more than ever. 

He’ll find her. Even if he has to turn the world upside down. 

“No one knows who he is?” Touya asks. 

His father shakes his head. “His face is never visible in the footage. We can’t ID him based on hair and build alone. He clearly knows what he’s doing.”

Touya turns back to the computer, rewinds the footage, and watches it again. It feels like stabbing himself in the heart, but he forces himself to watch it several more times, burning the image of the man into his brain. 

For the next week, Touya sits in the parking lot of the convenience store, watching every person who goes in or out. If the killer came here once, he could come here again.

On the sixth night, Touya is beginning to lose hope when he spots him. A guy who looks just like the man in the footage parks a vehicle near the edge of the parking lot and walk into the store. Touya’s heart pounds as he watches the man come back out, carrying a couple of bags. The man is smiling to himself as he climbs into his car and pulls out onto the road. 

Touya follows him, staying back far enough to avoid detection but close enough to see any turns the car makes. Eventually the bastard pulls into a high end apartment complex just inside the city. Touya parks far away, and watches from a distance as the man gets out of his car. He’s whistling to himself, the sound echoing in the parking garage, as he gets into an elevator. 

As the doors close, Touya rushes over to see what floor the elevator stops on. Fifth floor! Touya sprints to the stairwell and hurries up the flights of stairs, hoping he’s fast enough to see which apartment the man goes into. He’s panting by the fourth floor, cursing himself for not working out more when his brothers invited him to the gym with them. But he reaches the fifth floor quickly, and carefully opens the door, peeking out around the edge, hoping to see the man without being seen himself. 

To Touya’s surprise, the hall is empty. The man is nowhere to be seen. Was Touya too slow? That would probably mean he’s in one of the apartments closer to the elevator, right? Maybe he could knock on a few doors, pretend he’s looking for a lost pet. 

Touya steps out of the stairwell and begins walking down the hall, passing several apartments and a maintenance room. Just as he gets close to the elevator, a white cloth suddenly closes over his mouth and nose. His mind races, remembering the images from the security footage, understanding that the same thing is happening to him. 

“I don’t know why you’re following me,” a voice says, “but we’ll figure that out when you wake up.”

And then, everything goes dark.

When Touya wakes up, he finds himself in a hardback chair in a living room, his arms tied securely behind his back with thin but sturdy rope. His ankles are tied to the chair legs. He squints his eyes at the brightness of the lighting, trying to force himself to focus on his surroundings. 

Before he’s fully alert, however, the blonde man walks into the room and sits on the couch, relaxing into it as if he’s entertaining a guest. He’s holding something in his hand, and it takes a moment for Touya to realize it’s his own driver’s license. 

The man smiles at him in a friendly way. “So you’re Touya,” he says, as if he’s heard all about him. “It’s nice to meet you. I can guess why you’re here.”

It looks could kill, Touya would have murdered this man in seconds. “Where is she?”

“She?” the man asks, a phony innocent expression on his smug face. 

Touya jerks against the ropes, then glares at the man again. “You know who I’m talking about.”

“Oh, you mean my new pet? She’s in the bedroom, all spread out for me, waiting for me to fuck her pretty little pussy.”

For one brief moment, Touya feels white hot rage fill every inch of his body. He yanks on the ropes so hard, it’s a miracle he doesn’t break his own bones. “Fuck you, you fucking loser! Can’t get a woman to let you fuck her without drugging her, huh?!”

The man laughs. “Before Cupid’s Arrow came along, I was fucking so many women I got bored. I wanted something more.”

“What? You think she loves you?!” Touya yells. 

“To be honest, I don’t care if she actually loves me. All I care about is feeling loved. And she definitely makes me feel loved.”

Touya looks at him with disgust. “You’re fucking sick. Why kill all the others then? Didn’t they make you feel loved?!”

The man’s smile fades. “The problem with Cupid’s Arrow is that it wears off if I don’t keep injecting it. So when I ease them off the drug and they start screaming, well, I don’t feel so loved anymore. But,” he says, his eyes gleaming, “I heard a rumor that certain people, when given the drug long enough, are permanently affected by it. It never wears off even after they stop taking it.”

“So you’re just gonna keep kidnapping and murdering women until you find someone like that?” Touya asks, his patience growing thin. 

The man grins. “Oh, I don’t have to do that anymore. I found her.”

Touya’s eyes widen. “You’re fuckin’ lying.”

“I haven’t given her the drug in three days. It should be out of her system by now, but she’s still completely obsessed with me.”

Touya gives him a murderous stare. “I don’t believe you.”

The man is still grinning. “Why don’t I show you? I’m sure she’s crying by now, thinking I’m neglecting her. She probably doesn’t even remember you at this point, but I’ll let you see her, since I’m such a nice guy.”

He turns his head toward the doorway leading to a short hall. “Sweetheart, come in here! We have a guest!”

Touya’s eyes are glued to the doorway, desperate to see her, to confirm she’s still alive, but terrified to see what’s been done to her. 

She appears like an angel, positively glowing. She’s wearing nothing but frilly pink panties and bra, something she would never choose for herself. Touya grew up with her. Of course he’s seen the plain straps of her sports bra and the occasional glimpse of her striped cotton panties.

As she steps into the room, her eyes fall upon Touya, and she seems to freeze for a moment. Touya sees it, the flicker of recognition in her eyes, the flash of relief to see him again, then the horror she must be feeling to know that he’s going to witness whatever this monster has been doing to her. 

Touya knows, because he researched Cupid’s Arrow extensively after finding out who had taken his girlfriend. He knows that many people reported still being aware of everything while under its influence. That look in her eyes told him everything he needed to know. 

She walks over and sits beside the man on the couch, no longer looking at Touya. “Keigo~” she purrs, “come to bed!”

So his name is Keigo. The sick fucker. He wraps an arm around her. “But I have a guest. Why don’t we put on a little show for him?”

There it is again, a look in her eyes that Touya is sure only he would recognize. Her facial expression is cheery and excited, but her eyes show her true feelings. 

Keigo gives her arm an affectionate squeeze. “Come on, sweetheart. You know what I like when I get home.”

She giggles, and it sounds so different from her normal, genuine laugh that it makes Touya’s stomach churn. Then she slides off the couch and to her knees in front of Keigo. She doesn’t look back at Touya anymore, only focusing on opening Keigo’s pants and pushing her head forward. From this angle, Touya can’t see every detail, but it’s obvious that she’s sucking Keigo off. The wet, slurping sounds fill the room. 

Touya turns his head, unable to watch. 

“Hey,” Keigo says, “she’s working so hard to put on a show for you. It’s rude not to watch!”

“Fuck you!” Touya yells, still not looking. 

Keigo grins. “Maybe later. I have more Cupid’s Arrow on hand.”

Touya feels like gagging. The thought of being forced to be intimate with this asshole disgusts him. Then he remembers that she’s been suffering that exact fate for over a week. 

“If you don’t watch,” Keigo says, “I’ll make her do something gross or painful. If I tell her to, she’ll eat literal shit from the toilet. Or I could make her pluck out one of her own eyes.”

Feeling more enraged than ever, Touya looks at the couple, watching his girlfriend’s head bob on this monster’s cock. His eyes meet Keigo’s. “I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you for this.”

Keigo suddenly grips her hair. “Ahh, just a minute Touya, I’m cumming in your girl’s mouth.”

Touya jerks at the ropes again. This time, it feels like the one on his left wrist is a little looser. 

Keigo is patting her head. “Good girl, you didn’t spill a drop.”

She glances back at Touya, and her eyes are wet, but she doesn’t say anything. 

He looks straight at her. “It’s okay, baby. I know you don’t wanna do this. I know this pathetic asshole drugged you. I’ll get you out of here, I promise!”

Keigo stares at him for a moment, his eerie golden eyes sharp. Then he suddenly claps his hands once as if he just had a great idea. “I think I’ll do you both a favor, since I’m in a good mood! Sweetheart, crawl over there and suck Touya’s cock.”

Touya feels like his blood just froze in his veins. “Don’t make her do this!” he shouts. 

She looks at Touya, and though her eyes look mortified, her lips curve up into a smile. “Of course, Keigo. Anything you want!”

She crawls across the floor to Touya, looking him in the eyes. When she reaches him, her hands slide up his thighs and find his belt, unbuckling it and then opening his pants. 

“I’m sorry,” he tells her. “I’m so sorry for what he’s done to you. But it’s almost over.”

She has no reaction to his words, instead reaching into his pants and pulling out his soft cock. “Aww, it’s not hard yet,” she says. 

Touya thinks this situation is just about the least sexy thing he can imagine, but her soft hands wrap around him and begin gently stroking. This is too cruel. Touya has dreamed of being touched this way by her since he was a teenager, and now it happens in the worst way possible for both of them. 

When she begins licking his tip, his cock starts to stiffen. It’s purely a physical reaction to the stimulation of her touch, but it makes him feel ashamed. He doesn’t want her to think this clear violation of her is actually turning him on. 

She takes him into her mouth, her sweet, pillowy lips gliding up and down him, drenching him in her saliva. He can’t help thinking of that day, sitting on her bed, when she kissed him. He’d wanted to go further, and was sure she did as well, but her parents were downstairs and the thought of them walking in was too awkward. 

His idea had been to plan a weekend getaway for just the two of them. Now he wishes he’d just gone for it, because he hates for this to be their first intimate moment together. 

Regardless, his body is responding to her, even though he’s nowhere near in the mood. And after several minutes, he feels his climax approaching. She must feel it too, because her lips clamp around his base as he cums. She sucks him dry, swallowing every drop, then finally pulls away and stands up, walking back over to Keigo. 

“So who’s cum tasted better?” Keigo asks her. 

She sits down beside him and snuggles up to him. “Yours did of course!”

Touya pulls on the rope again, acting as if he’s just blindly jerking on it out of rage, but the left wrist is getting looser. If he can just work it a bit more…

“Oh, but you haven’t been satisfied yet, have you sweetheart?” Keigo asks. 

Touya knows where that question is leading, and feels his heart sink. He has to get his hand free, and fast! 

Keigo grins right at Touya as he tells her, “Why don’t you ride my cock like you usually do?”

*******************************

If you could kill Keigo, you would. But your body doesn’t belong to you. He’s already made you do suck horrifically embarrassing things in front of Touya, you could die of shame. And now he wants more? 

This is the worst possible scenario you could imagine. To have the love of your life watch you do these things with another man is nothing short of a nightmare. Any joy you felt at seeing him again was replaced with terror. Is Keigo going to kill him? 

Your body stands up and faces Keigo, but he turns you around to face Touya. He clearly wants to torment both of you. He slides your panties down and you step out of them. Touya averts his eyes. 

“Now, now, Touya,” Keigo says, “What did I say about you not watching?”

This monster is using threats to force Touya to watch. Your face burns when Touya’s beautiful blue eyes shift back to you. He has an apologetic expression. Somehow he knows you’re aware of everything. He knows you’re still in here. 

With your beloved boyfriend watching, you ease back into Keigo’s lap. You can feel his erection pressing against you. Despite your shame and horror, you rise up slightly and line him up with your entrance, then sink down onto his cock. 

Keigo’s hands are on your thighs, keeping them spread open so Touya can see his cock plunging into your dripping pussy. Touya looks horrified, but under the drug’s influence, you begin riding Keigo, bouncing up and down on his meaty cock, moaning his name as if you love him. 

Your eyes meet Touya’s, and his expression softens. “I love you,” he says. “Nothing this sick fuck does can ever change that!”

Oh, Touya! How you wish you could tell him how you feel! 

Keigo slides one hand up your thigh and uses his fingers to spread your folds, then begins rubbing circles into your clit. Your back arches as you cry out in pleasure.  

“See, Touya?” Keigo asks. “I can please her better than you ever could. She likes having her clit played with, right sweetheart?”

“Yes!” you scream, riding him harder, your traitorous body chasing its climax. You’re so close! You lock eyes with Touya again as you say, “I’m… I’m…!” Your body wants to say you’re cumming, but for just this moment, staring into the eyes of the man you truly love, your heart wins out. 

“I’m sorry, Touya!” 

The words are forced out through your unwilling mouth as tears drip down your face. Touya’s eyes widen. Keigo pulls you off him and shoves you to the floor, clearly alarmed by your tiny spark of free will. Then, all at once, chaos erupts. 

Touya’s hands snap free from behind him and he lunges across the room, dragging the chair still tied to his ankles along with him. He tackles Keigo to the floor and begins punching him with both fists. Keigo tries to block them with his arms but Touya’s unbridled fury overwhelms him, and soon Keigo’s face is a bloody mess. You watch in stunned silence. The drug is telling you to pull Touya off him, to try to help the man you’ve been forced to adore, while your heart is telling you to help Touya mangle him. 

In the end, you do neither, and Keigo eventually stops moving. You know he’s dead before Touya even stops punching him. 

The effect is immediate. Suddenly, you’re so obsessed with Touya that you want him to take you now, right next to Keigo’s bloody corpse. 

Cupid’s Arrow is still in effect, but with Keigo dead, the target of your obsession is the next person you laid eyes on. 

Touya pants for a few moments after killing Keigo, then flops over onto his ass and begins untying the ropes from his ankles. Every little movement he makes is beautiful to you. 

To be honest, it’s not so different from how you viewed him before. 

He quickly crawls over to you and wraps you in his arms. “It’s over, baby, I’ve got you!”

You look up at him with glistening eyes, then wrap your arms around his neck. “Touya! I love you so much!”

He pulls back slightly and looks at you. “It transferred to me, huh? I read about this. It’s okay, we’ll get you to a hospital and they can pump the drug out of your system! You’ll be okay!”

You try to kiss him, but he blocks you. “Touya,” you whine, “I’ve wanted you for so long! Please…”

“I want you too,” he says, “but not when you’re drugged. We’ll have plenty of time together after you’re better.”

You pout as he stands up and helps you to your feet. “Get dressed,” he tells you, and you follow his command as he searches the apartment for his phone, finding it on the kitchen counter and then calling the police. 

The next few weeks are a blur. Keigo’s death is ruled as self defense, and you go through extensive testing and treatments at the hospital. They determine that you’re one of the rare people who are permanently affected by Cupid’s Arrow after having high doses injected for several days. The doctors say there’s a chance you’ll recover someday, and recommend that you stay near Touya for your own mental health, since the two of you already had a long relationship. 

You’re not too bothered by it. Because you love Touya and you know he loves you. 

But Touya is struggling. He finds it difficult to resist your advances, but he doesn’t want to take advantage of you. Even though you’ve tried telling him you really do want to be with him, he’s afraid it’s the drug talking. For weeks, he doesn’t touch you. 

The first couple of times he wakes up to find you sucking his cock, he gently pushes you away. After seeing your distraught reaction however, he begins letting you continue until he cums in your mouth. He always looks at you with a guilty expression afterward, and it breaks your heart. 

It’s two months after your rescue before he finally eats you out, after you spend days spread out on his bed, tearfully begging him to give you release.

Gradually, his resistance crumbles more and more, until he’s fucking you into the mattress every night, his face buried in your shoulder, murmuring, “I’m sorry!” over and over like a mantra. 

You really do want him, but he doesn’t know it, and that uncertainty has him consumed by guilt. He thinks he’s doing the same thing Keigo did to you, and that haunts him, even as he thrusts into you so deeply that you see stars. Your cries of ecstasy might as well be cries of pain to him, and it eats away at his mind. 

Maybe someday the effects of the drug will wear off, and you can tell Touya how much you love him, how much you want him every day. Until then, you can only watch him spiral into self loathing as your body sings with pleasure.