#I don’t know if this is true in the other dubs

[tilldeathdoesmedirty]

Another day 2

Warnings: dub-con/non-con, age gap, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome, emotional abuse, physical abuse, possibly other triggering events. 

Characters: dark!Steve Rogers.

Summary: Be careful what you wish for, one day it could come true. And that might just be your savior in disguise, all it takes is a little bit of persuasion. 

Interact on your own accord. You have been warned. 

Any reblog, comment, feedback is well received and appreciated! Enjoy <3 

You fiddle with the key to your two-room apartment, harshly jamming it in the keychain. If your neighbors didn’t know how you look like, they’d suspect you of being a pick locker. Courtesy of your landlord for not trying to fix the door when you told him about it multiple times. But hey, renting a place that you can actually afford must come with a couple of its own disadvantages, you thought.

Sweet victory, you mumble, as you hear a click from the door, unlocking it. You quickly go in, leaving your coat on the hanger and your now soaked shoes by the door. The apartment is rather dull, not much to look at. Basic cheap TV placed on the wall, a small table in front and next to it a couch that looked older than your grandparents, if they were still alive.

You don’t even need to get started on the bedroom, especially the kitchen. The bathroom being the only decent one in this whole situation. 

Thank god.

You look at the small timer that’s placed on the nightstand next to your bed, 20:00 you read. Enough time to entirely soak yourself in a hot bath, hoping it will make all your worries go away, if only just for a bit.

You run the water, waiting for it to warm up and fill the bathtub. You’re grateful the apartment you’re renting has hot water, not like other ones you’ve lived in even if it was for shorter periods of time, which had to take a lot of time for the water to even be mildly warm. Thus being the only thing you’re actually excited about this whole place. You didn’t even want to imagine the pneumonia you would have had. Would have been the cherry on the cake, bills on top of bills. 

You look out the window, mesmerized by the heavy snow settling on the city tonight. Your mind wanders to your little encounter with Steve, you feel your stomach turn, anxiety washing over as you remember him calling out your name. As much as you try to pick your brain out, you can’t remember ever telling him your name. Even though you should have, it just didn’t cross your mind at the moment. Not exactly professional on your part but no matter, you wouldn’t have forgotten if you did tell him.

You snap back to reality as you feel the hot water reach your arm that you left hanging in the bathtub. You turn the faucet off, stripping out of your clothes and getting in the tub. You let out a heavy sigh as the water swallows you whole. You lean your head back, closing your eyes. 

Everything will be alright, love. It’s just how the world works.

You remember… your mom, her words, everything. You slowly slide your head against the tub, holding your breath as you let your head go underwater. Any sound coming from outside blocked completely, you lose yourself in the silent yet loud ambient noise.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You scroll through the hundred of pages with the best possible secure locks. You don’t quite understand what more he wants than just a mere lock. Any of them should do honestly, there probably is no such thing as an unpickable lock so why go through the hassle of having to search for hours and hours. You were getting restless. 

You scoff. Prick.

At the last second, just as you’re about to close your work laptop’s screen, your eyes land on a lock and you look over the descriptions. Your eyes glint with triumph. You quickly pick up your phone and dial Steve’s number. You are taken aback by his almost instant response. 

You clear your throat. 

“Hello sir, i’m calling for the lock you requested? I think I may have found what you’re looking for.” you say, trying to keep your voice as even as possible. 

“That’s perfect,” he responds slowly “I trust that you chose well so, when can I expect it?”

“It shouldn’t take long. If I order it now, in a couple of hours the technician should arrive at your place and install it.” you say as you pick up a pen, rolling it between your fingers, occasionally tapping it on the table in a rhythmic manner. 

He gives you an approving hum in return.

“I’ll come by in half an hour to make the payment,” he continues “See you then, sweetheart.” he ends the call. 

You notice a weird tone in his voice, you can’t exactly place it. You always try to ignore when he calls you sweetheart. It gives you such an unsettling feeling.

You don’t like it.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You hear the main door to the building open then close. You glance over as you see Steve, you look at the time, exactly thirty minutes passed since your last call with him. 

Your coworker was out today, something about a cold. It’s a good thing you don’t get many customers, it’s not that stressful on your own. But in this case, it means it’s just you and Steve now. Alone. 

You greet him with a fake smile, intended for customers as he makes his way to your desk.

“Right on point.” you say, trying to make a light joke. 

“Exactly how I like to be.” he says with a smirk. 

You try your best refraining from rolling your eyes. Thankfully you don’t slip up. 

“So how will it be sir, cash or card?” you continue with a small smile. You don’t know why, but his presence makes you nervous. 

Really nervous. 

“Card, if you don’t mind.” he replies as he takes out his card from his wallet. 

You introduce the price number on the keypad of the card reader. You feel your body tense as you notice his gaze on you. If looks could burn, you’d be on fire. You hold out the card reader, waiting patiently as he puts his card on top of it, a beep emitting from it, meaning the payment was successful. 

You take out the receipt from it and you nervously glance up at him, you hold out your hand with the receipt in it, waiting for him to take it. He looks down at you with a stoic expression, considering you for a couple of seconds, not saying anything. 

And neither do you, you don't dare to. 

He gives you a stern smile. You look at him, careful with your actions and what you’re going to say. 

This doesn’t feel right.

“When do you usually get off?” he suddenly asks. 

You widen your eyes just the slightest, stopping almost instantly as you try to hide your surprise. 

You consider his question, why would he even ask it in the first place?

“Er… about 5pm?” you tell him, more like a question really. 

He hums and nods his head, still smiling. 

“Right then, here’s my address,” he continues like nothing happened. Like what he just asked a couple seconds ago was the most normal thing.

Nonetheless, you write his address down.

“Looking forward to it.” he says. You see the corner of his lip turn up a little just for a second. 

You think that your mind may be playing tricks on you and this was just your imagination. The interaction between you two before he finally decides to leave is pure awkwardness. At least for you. 

You let out a breath of relief that you didn’t even know you were holding in. This should be it, right? No more interactions with him, no more anything. His lock should be installed in a couple of hours, and voila. Mission accomplished.

❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️ ❄️

You close your work laptop and gather your stuff, preparing yourself to go home and enjoy your free weekend. Mostly just staying in bed, watching tv or reading. So basically doing nothing, like always. 

You exit the building and head for the bus station, it’s pretty dark outside given the fact that it’s just a little over 5pm. Those are the perks of winter, you guess. At least it isn’t snowing as bad as last night but it’s just as cold nonetheless. You try as much as possible to keep the warmth you left with from leaving your body, but obviously, there isn’t much to do about it. 

You wait patiently for the bus to arrive, occasionally looking left and right at the surprisingly empty street, only a couple of cars passing by now and then. After all, this particular bus station isn’t that popular at this type of hour. 

You notice a car that’s slowly coming your way. You don’t think much of it, really, probably just another car passing by. You squint your eyes at the car’s bright headlights as it comes to a stop. 

Right in front of you.

You watch with a blank expression, instinctively your hands clutch your purse harder. You listen to the engine’s low rumble, almost soothing in the silent area. The car window rolls down and you look with curiosity. 

“…Steve?” you say, mostly to yourself. 

In the passenger seat is none other than Steve himself, you raise both your eyebrows in confusion, still not making any movements. 

“Get in.” the silence between you two is interrupted as he suddenly yells out, making sure you hear him from the engine’s noise and the distance you share. 

You give him a puzzled look. 

“What? How did you-…” you start but he cuts you off just before you could decline his kind offer. 

“Sweetheart, i’m not asking. You’re going to freeze to death, get in.” even though he has a calm demeanour and a smile on his face that’s worth a million bucks, it still feels off. 

But against your better judgment and the fact that you were waiting almost half an hour in the insufferable cold for the bus that’s yet to come, you hesitantly get closer to the car, with a frown on your face as clear as day. 

When you’re close enough, you stop. You look at him, trying to find any expression he might give away so that you can have a proper excuse as to why you have this dreadful feeling in the pit of your stomach. All you get from him is what seems to be a reassuring smile.

Oh, what the hell you think as you decide to open the car door and get in the passenger’s seat. Putting all your insecurities at the back of your mind. 

“Thank you…” you say, giving him a small smile, as you buckle the seatbelt. 

He stirs the wheel and takes off to the main road “No problem at all.” he replies, looking straight ahead as he gives a smile of his own, his perfect teeth peaking out just the slightest at the corner of his lip, it could almost be mistaken as a smirk. 

After a couple minutes of silence, what helps you remember that you need to give him your address is the passing of the street the bus usually takes on your way home. You almost jump in your seat at your realization. You quickly turn to face him as you blurt out a little too loud the instructions to get to your apartment. You notice he’s startled by your sudden burst as he looks a couple times back and forth at the road and you, in the end settling on the road once again.

He gives out a chuckle while shaking his head “Nobody ever told you it’s not a good idea to startle someone who’s driving?” 

“S-sorry,” you stutter a reply as you turn your head to gaze down at your lap in embarrassment.

“It’s just… you missed a turn, sorry.” 

He hums in response, you even hear a little “Did I” from him. Your eyes narrow and your brows furrow, that’s a weird thing to say, isn’t it? But you choose not to dwell on it too much.

You wait the rest of the ride in silence, at one point you look out the window, focusing on the passing trees and buildings as they blend in together. Feeling more tired by every passing second, you let yourself drift away. You lazily blink a couple of times as it gets harder and harder to keep your eyes open, you rest your head against the window and eventually, you end up closing them. You don’t even spare a second thought about being alone in a car with a stranger, you don’t think of anything at all actually. 

Your place is only a ten minute ride away, after all.

#dark steve rogers #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #fanfic #marvel mcu #dark!steve rogers x reader #captivity #tw kidnapping

[captainhysunstuff]

I can’t express how much I love that in the Death Note episode “Love,” L (Alessandro Juliani) is the one narrating the NPA’s fake Kira response that was (mostly) written by Light. That’s just so cool to me.

Feel free to correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m pretty darn sure it’s him underneath the voice filter.

#Juliani and Swaile just sound so distinct from each other and I’m pretty sure it’s the former #death note #L #light yagami #Kira’s voice #I’m sure I’m not the first to have noticed/pointed this out; I just think it’s neat #I don’t know if this is true in the other dubs

[yandere-daydreams]

Title: Intoxicated.

Pairing: Yandere!Fae King x Reader (OC).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Non/Con -> Dub/Con, AFAB!Reader, Aphrodisiacs/Sex Pollen, Unbalanced Power Dynamics, Unhealthy Relationships, Orgasm Denial, and Obsessive Behavior.

[Commissioned piece. Donate to Palestinians in Gaza here.]

His chambers reeked of honey and lavender.

A stark improvement when compared to the raw stench of sweating bodies and animal fervor that’d hung over the celebrations still raging on in his banquet hall, but strong thick enough to turn your stomach, still choking enough to leave your head spinning, your vision distorted and dark around the edges. A thick, lilac smoke clouded the air, courtesy of the herbs smoldering in jars of stained glass on a nearby windowsill – only adding to your current haziness. It went without saying that none of it, of course, was aided by the clever, slender fingers slowly drawing lazy circles into your clit, the stimulation too much to block out entirely but not nearly enough to bring you any real satisfaction. It was hard to be frustrated, though, when you considered who that stimulation was coming from.

Aisling had positioned himself behind you, propped against the ornate headboard of his almost comically oversized bed. Two long, hoofed legs stretched out on either side of you – flecks of golden pollen still dusted over his dark fur. His chest was bear and cool where it pressed into your back, and his unoccupied hand alternated between wrapping snuggly around your midriff and prying your thighs apart when they attempted in-vain to shut. His touch, like most other things about him, left much to be desired. You’d lost track of how long you’d spent here, how much time had passed since he carried you out of those wretched rituals his kind called revelries, but couldn’t have been any longer than a few minutes, even if it felt like a small eternity lapsed by every time you let your eyes droop shut. He prided himself on his adeptness in all things frivolous and pleasurable, and you couldn’t imagine him taking this long to bring you to climax.

“I’ve grown quite fond of your meekness, you know.” His voice was a deep rumble, less a string of words and more a prolonged, inflected purr. Cold lips ghosted over the curve of your ear, and his fingers found a new pattern; one with enough force behind to it make your head lull forward, a slight whimper slipping past your grit teeth as the loose knot in your core began to tighten. “At first, it was rather irking to realize I would never be able to make love to you under the light of the full moon to the accompaniment of my finest bards, but I think I’ve come to like how—” A quirk of his wrist, a strange crescent-like motion. You withered against him, your hips bucking stiltedly into his hand. “—reserved your kin tend to be. It feels more intimate, locking ourselves away like this. Like we share a common secret.”

That fucking smell. The sickening sweetness of it seemed to claw and tear at your lungs, to lodge itself in the hollows of your skull and send a warm, steady pulsing down the length of your spine with every slight movement of Aisling’s fingers. You let your eyes fall shut, your hands kneading at the silk of his sheets as the knot sitting in your core coiled ever-tighter, as you came so, so close to that—

As Aisling pulled away, his touch skirting over the inside of your thigh before forcing two fingers into the dripping entrance of your cunt. You couldn’t bite back the fractured whine that bubbled past your lips, arching your back as he spread and curled his digits inside of you. “Still,” he went on, sighing in mock-disappointment. “I feel like our relationship has been far from reciprocal, as of late. I do adore taking care of you, and I don’t mean to sound unthankful, but—” Another pause, another sigh. “I am beloved to all folks of the land and air, worshiped by the valleys and mountains alike, and dearest to all beings with the wisdom necessary to appreciate true beauty. Why is it that the one I cherish most so evidently detests my very existence?”

“Be—” A broken moan cut you off, draw out by a particular scissoring motion of his fingers. It was a fight to find your voice again. “Because you’re a fucking prick.”

“Your honeyed praises will have to wait, for now.” The heel of his palm ground into your clit, but the friction was too soft, too half-hearted to do anything. His lilac smoke seemed to claw its way down your throat and dislodge a pathetic string of whimpers and mewls, filling the new vacancy with a sort of… a sort of liquid heat, strong enough to leave you panting and hot enough to have you squirming against him, eager to get that much closer to his frigid body. Your desperation earned a melodic laugh from Aisling, a tender nuzzling of his cheek against yours. “Oh? Do you have something you’d like to ask for, little fawn?”

He forced a third finger into your terribly empty cunt, and something inside of you seemed to break open. “Please, Aisling, I—” You paused, gasped as his fingers curved against the clenching walls of your pussy. “I need to cum. I can’t take another—”

Whatever you might’ve said dissolved into a broken, pained moan as he drew back entirely, his slick-stained hand moving to your chin and tilting your head back, his lips finding your own before your shock could fade into hurt. Pointed, cat-like fangs burrowed into your bottom lip as his rough tongue laved over your own, the gesture less of a kiss and more of an attempt to permanently attach a part of him to a part of you. His taste was one of fresh fruit and sugared cream, and by the time he pulled away, you were panting, heaving, clambering to stay as close as him as you possibly could, to get as much from him as you possible could. Aisling only laughed as you rushed to straddle him, taking your face in both hands and pulling you into another long, lingering kiss – his mouth just as sweet as his poisons.

“Such a beautiful song,” he muttered, pulling back far enough to speak, but not leaving quite enough distance to disguise the crooked smile spread across his lips.

“Perhaps, by the time we’re finished, you’ll love me enough to deserve to.”

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere oc #yandere fae #yandere monster #yandere oneshot

[shmpxx]

NOTHING BUT A BULLY — g.s

⛤ bully! gojo satoru x fem! reader

you’re a victim of gojo satoru and his annoying tactics, it’s hard getting away from him but probably not this time.

cw. smut. mentions of non-con(photo taking). dub-con. virginity loss. oral (f.receiving). creampie. unprotected sex. fingering. dacryphilia. breeding. public sex. overstimulation. 18+!

wc: 2k

a/n: it’s been a minute bc I’ve been picky on what i write and i got inspiration from bully!gojo fics I’ve read so I’m writing this one!

Something about you was different, in a way that gojo couldn’t stop teasing you, he could never get bored even if you wished and prayed there be a day where he grew tired of poking at you.

He purposely trips you down the hallways or acts like he doesn’t see you and intentionally shoves you with his shoulder. Makes derogatory comments about you where he makes sure you’re listening. Stealing your lunch which he probably doesn’t even eat, he just wants to make your life miserable. Slaps your books out of your hands and watch you pick them back up while he chuckles to himself, if your lucky geto would be there and help you and excuse gojo’s actions. He would also secretly takes pictures under your skirt of your panties probably jerking off to them later.

He does get a little jealous when he sees someone else talking to you, he’ll always come around throwing his arm over your shoulder or even pushing you forward.

You tried to avoid him as much as possible, when you see him you try to walk the other direction he was coming from. He always know you try to avoid him as well and sometimes he still catch you. “Trynna hide from me?” He deviously smiles.

It wasn’t that he hated you, he just loved to tease and make fun of you. He made sure of that when you were both alone in a classroom.

He had you sitting on a desk with his hand slipping past your skirt to grope your thigh and ass. He grins to himself spreading your thighs for him to get in between them as he hungrily kissed your lips. His other hand on the back of your neck preventing you from pulling away from him even though you tried, fingers tugging on his shirt for desperation of air.

There wasn’t a day where every time he saw you, he thought of kissing you and touching you indecently. Now the time has come. His sexual fantasies of you are finally coming true.

Why were you letting him do this to you? After months of bullying and torture, you were letting him do whatever he wanted and you didn’t know why.

“You don’t know how much i wanted this” He moved down to your neck, ravishing your neck not caring that even after people would see the marks on your neck only to embarrass you.

You jolt when you feel his fingers press against your clit behind the fabric of your panties.

You kept thinking to yourself, you should stop this now. You can’t have gojo satoru control you like this. Not here.

“don’t want to anymore-“ you let out.

You pull away seeing his face in a pout expression, “aw don’t be like that” He moves your panties to the side, spreading your folds apart before entering his two fingers inside and feel the stretch of your walls by the intrusion of his fingers, letting out a cry and cling onto him. Your muscles tightening around him by the weird sensation he brought you.

“Your so tight, i bet your a virgin huh? Saving yourself for me right?” He whispers into your ear whilst pumping his fingers into your hole.

His fingers curl into the right spongy spot inside you making you wail loudly, smirking to himself watching your aroused expressions.

Looking at you as you were such a inexperienced sweet thing he loves that he’s toying you like this.

he speeds his pace faster into your cunt with also his thumb rubbing circles on your clit bringing you a whole new sensation you never felt before, you feel the tears breaking through your closed shut eyes. The tingling feeling bubbling up inside you, you didn’t know what that was, afraid of it.

“No! No! Wait-” you beg with a moan, you were about to reach something. Reach something you don’t know of and you felt complete emptiness. You were confused.

His drenched fingers covered in your arousal left your hole, instead gojo hooks onto the elastic of your panties and strips them down but you stop him from doing shaking your head no.

“you don’t want me to make you feel good?” He tilts his head at you.

“I..” you didn’t know what to say, your cunt feeling in ache of touch again but realization hit you that your in a classroom doing such activities in public.

“You want me to make you feel good right?” He stills brings your panties down dangling off your one ankle.

Apart of you wanted to say no but without thinking he had you wrapped around his finger like you were entranced that you nodded yes that got him smiling from ear to ear.

“I know you feel sore don’t you? I can kiss it better” Subconsciously you leaned back onto your palms when his hands under your thighs pushed them up more for him to gain more access as you watch him dip his head between making your heart ponder at your chest.

You whimper feeling his lips giving you a gentle kiss on your clit and started off with soft kitten licks on your cunt.

His lips latching onto your clit, sucking and licking your sensitive area. The same feeling building up inside you again coming much faster than before causing you to break out a moan.

Giving him the signal to bury his tongue deep inside your walls and give you a hard suck one last time before you start feel an rippling pleasure throughout your body. You feel as if the air ultimately left your lungs and you try to catch your breath.

Gojo licking the creamy substance that came from you from his lips and your cunt, not even giving you a break to let you calm down and your clit becoming sensitive spasming uncontrollably from his tongue and your legs became like jelly. You try to buck your hips away from his mouth but you were to weak to do so. Letting out sweet sobs.

“sweet angel being so good for me” he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip leaning in to kiss you again.

Without a warning from him, you break away from his lips feeling the tip of his leaky cock rubbing between your swollen folds.

“Gojo-“ your hand on his shoulder stopping him from going any further.

“Just relax angel—if you let me, I’ll let you call me satoru” as if it were a deal for him to take away your purity.

Half of his cock disappear inside you, he couldn’t help but chuckle to himself as you clutch onto him for support, dipping your face into his chest and his shirt damp from your tears. It was different from his fingers, his dick was pushing aside your walls. An inch of pain engulfing you but only for a few seconds.

“Sweet thing it’s not even all the way in yet”

“Ah! Gojo! I-“ his hips slamming into you. Not giving you time to adjust his rhythm already being so rough. You can’t think other than him being so thick and how far he’s reaching deep inside you making your head spin. He was so hard too and impatient he couldn’t wait to fuck you.

“Please—you’re too rough” As if he would listen to you. He thrusts into you hard, skin slapping against each other, the sounds of squelching from your sobbing cunt and his cock bullying your walls you might end up in the shape of him. Your body bouncing and your breath hitching every second from his aggressive thrusts.

You wanted him to be gentler though did you want this at all? Your mind still can’t comprehend anything other than the sweet spot he hits repeatedly. You cry and whimper into his shoulder making cute noises to gojo’s ears, holding onto him as you heard him grunt and pant into your ear.

“Who knew a slut like you could be enjoying this?”

“That’s not—ah!” You couldn’t get your words out without being interrupted by each moan you kept choking out.

Gojo couldn’t get over the way you squeezed him tight every time he pushed in and out of gummy area, your hot soft walls. You were full of warmth and wetness, making his dick twitch already. Even the way you cling onto him and cry into his chest by the overwhelming pleasure was so cute.

He can even see the way you move against his hips knowing your so desperate for it and enjoying it even how many times you try to deny it he knows.

“I’m gonna cum inside okay? I want to so bad need to fill you up”

“No—don’t! ah!-h, don’t wanna-“ the familiar tingling came back again yet you felt as if you were gonna cum much harder than before. His hips hitting you faster at a brutal pace, his hand grabbing behind your lower back to pull your hips closer to his to hit deeper inside your cunt, his tip almost at your cervix you might go dumb.

“Can you imagine having kids together? wouldn’t that be nice?” Carrying a child of your bully would be the last thing you thought of.

Shaking your head no he is quickening his pace and his slams his hips on his last thrust, emptying his hot load into you as you also reached your second orgasm much harder than before, your gummy walls contracting around his girth. Your body trembles and you sob loudly tears damping his shirt at this point feeling full and warm of his cum in your tummy.

He pulled out and cum leaked from your hole dripping onto the desk. “aw your letting it all spill”

Your body goes limp and he decides to flip you on your stomach onto the desk, your ass hanging in the air though you feel as if your about to fall apart. He smiles to himself watching his cum stream from your cunt like it was his masterpiece. it was too much already but gojos hands finds your waist, you whine feeling pressure and his cum gush out, sticking his erect dick once again inside you. “I miss your pussy already and plus i want to cum inside you again and fill you up a little more, just be a good slut like you are okay?” He squeezes the plush of your ass.

“Gojo no-“

“Satoru…you earned it now and you earn a little more—hah” already thrusting inside your abused swollen cunt. It was so easy for him to slide in again and how you still feel so warm inside just how he likes it.

“Sa-toru” you moan and whine water filling your eyes and soaking your lashes. “I love it when you say my name” his voice in a raspy tone, throwing his head back, pleasure engulfing him whole. His essence oozing onto the floor.

He grabbed your thigh lifting your leg up for him to gain more access more control, you were onto your side holding onto the desk preventing yourself from slipping off. He just continues tormenting your body, reaching towards your clit and his thumb putting pressure onto it. You couldn’t do nothing but cry out, you were so overstimulated, you were weak and now his thumb adding a more electrifying sensation and you were about to achieve your third orgasm.

You would consider this torture, it was too good to handle at all once. Your head spinning, your out a breath only to make small noises.

“I’ll try to make this quick, just for you sweetheart” he continues his frantic thrusts, rubbing your clit in rough circles, your eyes roll back in too much ecstasy you were basically drowning in. He loved watching you all fucked out, his cock plunging you every second.

He finishes up and cums into you one last time, fire pooling low into your abdomen. Another warm load filling you up making you fuller, Gojo thinks to himself that this would not be the last time he will have you.

You thought gojo would change a bit towards you, that was a lie. The next day your shoes are missing and you can hear him laugh from the hallway down. You hate yourself for liking someone like him now but you can’t help it, you know he is just using you as his little toy and also messing with you at the same time. From your missing shoes to him freeing his cock and pressing it against your lips on your knees.

#jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo satoru #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #satosugu #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen

[starkidmunson]

damned if i do (give a damn what people say)

It seems Steve Harrington is back off the market

The latest news on the pop star’s love life comes mere weeks after word of a fallout with longtime beau, journalist Nancy Wheeler. While neither party has confirmed the rumors, many of Harrington’s closest friends have hinted at the end of the relationship in interviews and on social media.

One thing everyone failed to mention, however, is that Harrington appears to have moved on and is now dating Corroded Coffin front-man, Eddie Munson.

The two have been friends for years, tracing as far back as the early 2010s, though it’s difficult to put a pin in exactly when they met. Neither are particularly vocal about their personal lives and often change the subject when the other comes up in an interview; a diversion tactic they’ve been playing for years.

Still, the alleged new couple has been spotted around some of Harrington’s favorite Manhattan hot spots several times over the past week.

The rockstar has a bit of an edgier vibe than Harrington’s usual flings; more outspoken and unpredictable than the ‘type’ Steve has typically shown an interest in; at least publicly.

Only time will tell if “Steddie” (so dubbed by the fans in support of the relationship) is true… and if they’ll last.

_____

“I can’t believe they think I’m dating Eddie,” Steve grumbled into the pillow on the floor of his hotel room. With a huff, he turned his head and looked off to the wall on the far side of the room. “I mean, it’s crazy that I can’t go out to dinner with anyone besides you and not be on a date.”

Robin leveled her foot to the center of his back, before shifting her weight onto it, then grinned in satisfaction as Steve groaned and his back popped loudly in several places. “It’s not like it’s that surprising. The tabloids went feral over you and Nancy breaking up after they were convinced you guys were already secretly married.” She shifted her weight back off him, dropping to sit cross-legged beside Steve. “Plus, it’s not that much of a stretch.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Steve asked, pushing himself up until he was sitting with his back against the wall, leg stretched out against Robin’s.

“It means you two have never looked at each other the way friends do. It makes sense that they’re picking that up.” Robin shrugged, brushing off her comment like it wasn’t shattering part of Steve’s bubble.

“We look at each other totally normally!”

The look Robin leveled Steve with had him pushing himself up off the floor and making his way toward the bathroom.

“I don’t have time for this right now, I need to start getting ready, but we don’t do anything normal friends wouldn’t because that’s what we are, Robin!”

“Are you trying to convince yourself of that, or me?” Robin asked and sighed heavily when Steve slammed the bathroom door closed in response.

It was only about five minutes before there was a familiar knock at the door; three in quick succession, followed by two after a short pause.

“I think we need to talk, sweetheart,” was understandable, despite being muffled by the door, before Steve was racing out of the bathroom to beat Robin to undoing the locks and letting Eddie in. “Why didn’t you tell me we’re dating?” Eddie asked through a pout, leaned against the doorframe.

Steve rolled his eyes and moved out of the way, letting Eddie follow him inside, before pointing at Robin. “See! Very much not dating!”

“Well,” Eddie started, teasingly, only to get hit in the face with a pillow from Steve’s bed. “I’m kidding, Steve. It’s not even a bad thing. I mean, they’re actually being really fucking cool about you being bisexual.”

“Being out as bi doesn’t mean that every person, regardless of their gender, is automatically my love interest just because I breathed near them.” Steve snapped, obviously frustrated despite Eddie’s attempts to ease the situation.

“Hey. Don’t get mean. You know what’s not what Eddie meant.” Robin responded. Steve looked back and forth between the two of them for a long moment, before he collapsed, face first, onto his mattress with a loud groan.

“C’mon, there’s no need to meltdown over this. If you want me to, I can post something about catching up with old friends to try to make it go away.” Eddie offered, gently, sitting down on the opposite side of the bed from Steve.

It took a long beat, but Steve eventually lifted his head from his pillows and shrugged. “I don’t want to make you do anything like that. It’s fine. It’ll all work out in the end. I'm just having a weird day, I guess.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, and when Steve didn’t elaborate, he turned his head to Robin, who shrugged.

“Nancy texted him this morning asking to not talk about her at shows and he’s been in a sour mood about it since.”

“Robin!” Steve groaned, pressing his face back into his pillow miserably.

“Have you been, though?” Eddie asked, confused. “Talking about her, I mean? I thought I was doing a decent job at getting the highlights and I have no memory of you dropping anything profound about you and Nance on any crowds.”

“Not directly,” Steve spoke into his pillow, before turning his head and staring at the wall as he answered. “I made a few comments about my songs. How to get someone back. How to gaslight someone into thinking you love them before letting everything go at the drop of a hat for one of your best friends.”

A silence settled over the room for a moment, before Eddie burst into giggles, which set Robin off. Eventually Steve joined in, turning his attention to the two of them with a heavy sigh.

“I guess I was an asshole about it, huh?”

“I think it’s justifiable.” Eddie offered, to which Robin nodded in agreement as she started toying with Steve’s hair. “If you feel like you’re going to say something about Nancy, you could always say something to me instead. Really confuse the shit out of everyone.” He teased, but Steve beamed.

“Wait, that’s actually a great idea.”

Robin looked apprehensive, holding her hands in the air. “Steve, you remember you just freaked out about this, right? And now you’re going to play into it? Publicly?”

“It’ll be fun. I’m not gonna say anything directly about Eddie. But just. References. And then we can watch the fans lose their shit on TikTok later.” Steve reasoned with a grin, and Eddie smiled back at him.

“I promise to spend the entire show dancing my ass off and singing along. For the bit.” Eddie said, his hand over his heart.

“You do that anyway, you’re just usually backstage.” Robin pointed out, and Eddie rolled his eyes.

“Well, obviously, I have to join you and Dustin in the family tent tonight. Duh.”

“Yes!” Steve agreed with a laugh. “This is going to be so much fun!”

“You’re both psychotic.”

_____

“Indianapolis, you're making me feel awfully special tonight.” Steve bit at his lip as he looked around Lucas Oil Stadium to thousands of people screaming back at him. “This is as close to a hometown show as I really get these days, so thank you for always making sure to remind me how special of a place home is.”

The music started to pick up again, but Steve kept talking. “I kind of spent the last few years coasting by without anyone paying too much attention, but now that I’m back on the road, everyone’s suddenly deeply invested in my life, and it's strange to be back so close to somewhere I called home for so long, in the same position I was in five years ago.” He ran his fingers through his hair, before huffing out a laugh.

“But you guys, you've always been there. Unwavering in a way I will never be able to express my gratitude for.” he paused to glance around the crowd again, grinning as they cheered. “Not many people can say the same, you know?”

“Where is he going with this?” Dustin asked, leaning close to Robin, who shrugged, trying not to have a visible reaction. There were always cameras on them in public like this. Any reaction would be taken out of context and exaggerated.

“Did you see the tabloid rumors about Eddie and Steve?” She replied, and couldn’t help but smile as Dustin’s head whipped back forward to Steve.

“I mean, there’s Robbie, the kids I used to babysit. And, uh…” he trailed off, which Eddie took as his cue to move to the front of the family tent. “Maybe someone else. This one's for you.” Steve said, leaving the “you” ambiguous enough to be open for interpretation.

Eddie, hamming it up, made a heart with his hands, before immediately starting to headbang along to the love song next in the setlist.

_____

In a surprising twist, Dustin managed to wait until the security team had moved them out of the crowd and behind the stage with the crew nearly two hours later before his outburst.

“What the fuck?!” He asked as soon as the were away from the crowd. “Why are you two playing into this? It’s just going to get more headlines and attention on the two of you, which neither of you usually like!”

“But it’s different if it’s on our terms.” Eddie responded, not even looking up from his phone as he answered Dustin.

“Is it, though? Is it really on your terms if it’s not even true?” Dustin sounded exasperated, and while Robin could relate, she was planning on sitting this one out until Eddie shoved his phone into her face.

“It’s already on TikTok. 4 videos in.” He said with a grin as Robin watched Eddie make a hand heart toward the stage before his hair started flopping all over as he sang along. The clip was captioned “steddie is real!!!”

“So you’re proud you’re deceiving fans?” She asked, which made Eddie’s grin fall.

“Don't be so dramatic,” Steve called as he approached from the stage exit. He was covered in sweat and still in his performance clothes, holding a half empty water bottle. “It’s all in good fun. They never need to know if it was real or not.”

“I think you’re downplaying this by a lot. What happens the next time one of you is seen out on a date?” Dustin pressed, and continued despite the way Steve rolled his eyes. “I mean it, an honest to god date. People are going to lose their minds, trying to figure out what broke up Steve and Eddie, when you were never even together in the first place! They’ll turn you against each other, they always do. And if you weren’t dating, isn’t that just as bad of a look?”

“Woah. Henderson. Chill. It’ll be fine, man. You’re WAY overthinking this.” Eddie said, before he grinned at Steve. “Could you see my hand heart from the stage?”

“I could. Did you catch the wink I sent your way at the end of the song?”

“I did, nice touch! I patted my hand over my heart, so maybe that’ll end up on social, too.”

“I’m going to throw myself into the White River.” Dustin groans loudly, to a round of laughs and elbow nudges.

_____

Steve could pinpoint the exact moment things finally felt out of hand two weeks later.

He was getting ready for the show that will wrap up his first weekend at his “home away from home” in 5 years when Eddie texted him about being late to that night’s show.

It shouldn’t have mattered.

Eddie had missed the last two shows in Chicago

It shouldn’t matter.

Eddie’d been there, religiously, at the 4 shows before Chicago on the tour, and 6 others before that when his band wasn’t playing their own concerts. Steve even made 3 trips of his own to Corroded Coffin shows, around his own obligations.

But it still made him frown at his phone for a moment too long. Long enough Robin caught him.

“More headlines about Steddie?” She asked, slipping the phone from his hands before he could stop her. When she read over the message, though, her expression softened. “Oh, Steve, I’m sorry.”

“It’s no big deal.” Steve rushed out, snatching his phone back and shoving it into his pocket. “It’s fine. I’m not upset, there’s no reason to feel sorry. Besides, he just said he’ll be late, he didn’t say he isn’t coming.”

“Would you be upset if he wasn’t coming, then?” Robin asked. Steve glared daggers at her, and sighed when she held her hands in the air, feigning innocence.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled, honestly.

___

The intro tape was just about to start as Steve was making his usual trek toward his starting point, when he heard someone running and calling his name from behind him, rather than out in the crowd. He paused and turned, to see Eddie rushing toward him.

“I’m so sorry, I just wanted you to see that I made it before you went on!” He was out of breath, his hair more wild from running than usual, and Steve…

Well, frankly, Steve was tired of pretending like Eddie wasn’t the hottest person he’d ever seen.

So Steve met Eddie halfway, threw his arms around his neck and pressed their lips together in a move Eddie seemed to have anticipated because he wasted no time returning the favor.

It was only Steve’s cue music that had him breaking away, biting at his lip and grinning at Eddie, who grinned back at him, before using the hands he’d placed on Steve’s waist at some point in the interaction to turn Steve toward the stage.

“Go, before you miss the start of your own show, superstar. I’ll still be here after.” Eddie said.

“Promise?” Steve called over his shoulder as he made his way toward the stage’s catwalk.

“Cross my heart, big boy.” Eddie drew an x over his heart for dramatic effect, then laughed and ran his fingers through his hair as he watched Steve run to make it to his place on time.

#steddie #Steve Harrington #Eddie Munson #Robin Buckley #Dustin Henderson #popstar!steve #rockstar!eddie #I don’t know what this is #I think it might be inspired by some of the early eras tour matty and Taylor chaos #but idk lmao #hopefully this finds an audience who enjoys it #starkidmunson writes

[runa-falls]

cocktails

gif from @pirateherokillian

pairing: jake lockley x shy!reader

summary: you finally gain enough courage to make a move on your best friend

cw: explicit (18+), dub-con (reader is tipsy), afab!reader, dry humping to piv pipeline, fingering, multiple orgasms, longing/pining losers, love (?), push-over!jake, needy!reader, 'just the tip' is never just the tip, alcohol consumption, pet names, daddy kink, creampie, fluff :3 -- not beta-read

wc: 5.1k

a/n: pls, it was never supposed to be this long. i'm sorry for taking FOREVER to write this. anyways, this is based off my blabbering in discord -- i dedicate this to my whores (affectionate) <3

mk masterlist | main masterlist

----

You don’t drink. 

At least not in front of Jake. 

Alcohol makes you…indulgent, to say the least, and that’s a side you’ve been holding back from your best friend. 

Yes, you’ve had a drink or two at some group hangouts in the past, but this, you, Jake, and a few bottles of gifted wine, surprisingly has never happened in the past. You’ve made sure of it.

What almost makes it worse is that Jake’s always been a sweetheart about your choices to avoid drinking around him. After your first few bouts of excuses and timid declines, he doesn’t pressure you to keep up with him when he’s knocking back shots or drinking pitchers of beer. 

Whenever your other friends press another drink into your hand, he subtly takes it for you, drinking it in large gulps before returning the glass from your hand. And when he pulls away, his fingers always find a way to graze against yours. Thankfully the bars are usually dimly lit so he can’t see the blush heating at your cheeks. 

He doesn’t realize it’s because of him. He’s the reason bartenders give you weird looks when you ask for watered-down vodka cranberries or why you’re always the last one standing in your friend group whenever you go out. This restraint around alcohol has gone on for years all because you harbor an intense attraction for your best friend. 

It didn’t start that way. He crashed into your quiet life and obliterated the dynamics of your friend group. When you first met him, you thought his cocky and blasé attitude was overcompensating for something.

He’s always been a natural sweet talker, not afraid to approach people and get what he wants, but it seemed too good to be true. He’s too charismatic, too interested in the dull life you live, how did he dig out a hole and place himself so easily in your life?

Easily, too easily, you fell for his sweet words, words that would inevitably draw you into his orbit and leave you hanging off of every syllable. 

You learned that no matter what he says, or does, he’s just being friendly. He’s just like that with everyone. It means nothing when he gives you a cheeky grin from across the bar or when he consistently insists on walking you home at night. Sure, he might stick closer to your side than anyone else's, but it’s just because you’re best friends. Right?

Of course, girls have tried and failed to lock down your best friend, misinterpreting his outgoing personality as him propositioning them. And they always come to you – whining over his lack of interest, the sudden and unexpected rejection of their advances, and grappling for any advice from his girl best friend. 

“He’s single, isn’t he?” The words are said over the thin rim of a martini glass. She glances over at you with hopeful eyes framed by beautifully dark lashes. 

You barely knew the girl’s name, but she offered to buy you a drink (a shirley temple) so you stayed for the conversation, however, you weren’t expecting the topic to circle back to Jake. But after watching her down a couple of martinis, gushing more and more about the man you’ve been pining after for an eon, you felt too bad to leave her. 

“Um…as far as I know.” It’s a little uncomfortable, talking about Jake like you’re his keeper.

“Then – then why won’t he go out – or even hook up with me?” Her voice has gotten louder with the exasperation of her inquiries. You look around at the bar, hoping she can keep it together before you’re kicked out for causing a ruckus. 

“Look, I don’t know if I’m the best –”

“But you’re his best friend, right?”

“Yes, but –”

“What’s his type?”

His type?

God, you wish you knew. It would make things a lot easier for yourself (and the world). But you genuinely don’t know. You’ve never seen him with a girl. Sure, he could be hooking up on the side, but why would he tell you?

You look down at your glass. All that’s left is ice, melting into an amalgam of pink-tinted liquid around the one maraschino cherry you refuse to eat. 

“I don’t know.” You mumble.

—

You’re already through a bottle and a half, lounging comfortably on the overstuffed couch in your living room. Something is playing on the TV but it’s all a blur behind the feeling of his thigh pressing against yours. 

Jake has never been afraid of showing his affection through physical means, whether it’s greeting ladies with a friendly peck on the cheek or ruffling one of the guy’s hair when he goes by. It’s natural to him. Casual.

But with you, he’s mostly hands-off. 

It’s not that you deign to feel his touch, to feel the scratchiness of his whiskers rub against the edge of your hairline, or lower against the sensitive skin of your throat, you just can’t control your reactions when he does it. Even the light touch of his hand against your lower back when he guides you has you standing straighter. 

He noticed your strong reactions to him and backed off, assuming you were uncomfortable or unused to friendly touches. And it was fine until you would do anything to feel him against you again, just one more time. It’s desperate, really, but you don’t really care when he looks at you with those cocoa-butter eyes. 

And now, he’s closer than ever but still hands-off. He politely sits next to you, one arm slung over the back of the couch and the other in his lap. But not touching you. 

He’s been making commentary about the dumb hallmark movie you impulsively rented, pointing out all the unrealistic plot conveniences and bright red flags that the main character blatantly ignores. He seems relaxed. 

You aren’t.

Two stained wine glasses sit on the coffee table, dangerously close to the edge, still holding a sip of liquid. You can barely make out the intricate print of his lips on the edge of the cup, highlighted by the brightness of the hallmark snow scene. 

You want so badly to steal the glass away and lick up the residual bitter-sweetness of the wine that’s touched his lips. To taste him, even indirectly. Or directly. Lick the sweetness straight from the source, tongue intermingling with him as he takes just as much from you. You feel yourself pulse from that image alone.

“Bunny?” Heat prickles against the back of your neck as you realize how far away your brain is, thinking such filthy and depraved thoughts of the man who is sitting right next to you. 

He dotes on you like a person would their favorite pet cat. He calls you pet names, ones that make you bite your tongue and hide your face in your hands. Bunny was the first one and the one he uses the most. 

It came out of nowhere, really. You were both at a small house party and Jake convinced you to join his team in a game of beer pong. You were still a bit nervous around him, still surprised when he’d seek you out for a conversation or to get your opinion on something entirely irrelevant. 

You told him upfront that your hand-eye coordination leaves much to be desired, but he was determined to teach you. The first few throws were pitiful, so pitiful, in fact, that the other team gave you a freebie to make up for it. 

“Here, lemme give you a hand.” You couldn’t even react before he was sidled behind you, his chest nearly flush against your shoulder as his hand wrapped around your wrist. Your body is frozen, soaking in the overwhelming closeness.

You can barely decipher the individual cups of beer with his voice low behind your ear as he directs you, “Keep it right….there” He lets go of your arm and you already miss his touch, “and put a little more power into your throw.” 

He steps back, giving you space to take a breath and refocus. 

You throw it, more mechanical than you would’ve liked, but it – miraculously – goes in. 

Immediately you turn around to get his reaction, the praise that you secretly crave from a man you barely know. 

He grins down at you, “You’re a natural, bunny.” 

And the nickname stuck.

You look over at him, lazily blinking up to meet his fond gaze, “Hm?” You feel all fuzzy inside, overexcited yet pinned down by the unexplainable need to stay close to him. 

He smirks down at you, arm subtly lowering to barely touch the back of your head, “What’cha thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” You try to lean into the feeling of his arm, hoping that if you ease into it, he won’t notice. “You had this… faraway look in your eyes for a moment.”

Oh, he noticed. But there’s no way he knows what you were thinking, right? A flash of embarrassment stings hot in your cheeks. You don’t think when you shyly nuzzle your face into his bicep to avoid his curious eyes, “I think I just zoned out or something.”

He hums, “You tired?” You turn your face to look at him, cheek resting against him. God, he smells so good. You never want to move from this spot. “Want me to tuck you in?” His voice coos teasingly, but you soak in the sweetness of it. He can be so soft sometimes.

Scrambled words echo in your mind: But if you go to bed, you’ll leave. You’ll take your arm out from under me and leave me here to think about you, all alone. Why can’t you just – Your thoughts quickly dissipate when he pulls you closer to him, hand at your waist to press your body against his.

Your hand presses delicately against his chest in surprise and you can barely feel the soft thrum of his heartbeat underneath the firmness of his muscles.

You softly shake your head, “Not tired.”

“Sure, baby.” 

Baby. 

That’s new. 

Your thighs involuntarily press together with how good it sounds coming from his lips. Directed at you. Somehow, even with all the pet names he’s given you throughout the span of your friendship, this one hits home.

He says it with the casualness of a boyfriend and tenderness of a lover. You can almost feel him panting it against the crook of your neck as he pushes inside of you, hand clutching yours as his hips roll perfectly against yours. 

You don’t even realize your legs are rubbing together like a cricket at dusk until a warm hand wraps around the top of your thigh. He pulls them apart, spreading your legs like you’ve always dreamed he would. Despite the suggestive position, you still whine at the loss of friction, thoughtlessly fighting against the insisting tug of his hand.

He hushes you gently, a soft tone barely easing your frustration. You latch your fingers onto his wrist, attempting to guide him to the spot that you really need him to touch, but he barely budges. His grip on your thigh tightens when his name drips brokenly from your lips. 

“J-Jake…” 

“Sweetheart, stop.”

“But –”

“Please.” Jake looks down at you with a pained expression, all past chivalry betrayed by the darkness pooled in his eyes.

You look up at him with misty eyes and flushed skin, innocence in the palm of his hand. “I need you.” You bite your lip at your admission, stained red from the wine, and he can’t take his eyes off of you. You pull at him again and this time he lets you. Both of you look down as his hand cups you over your shorts.

“You’re too drunk right now.” The whispered attempt of resistance falls on deaf ears as you arch your hips into his touch. Neither of you notice that the movie ended, leaving you in a silence where only the exchange of breathless pants can be heard. 

“Touch me.” You whine, desperate for anything. Desperate just to be accepted by him.

His gaze briefly flicks up from where he’s touching to regard your eagerness with half-lidded eyes. He shakes his head and looks away like he’s looking for answers on the blank wall next to him. “I…shouldn’t.” 

You start to panic when you feel his hand pull away. It can’t end like this. You hold onto his wrist when a particularly needy idea pops into your mind. If he doesn’t want to ‘defile’ you, then fine. You’ll do it yourself.

“I…c-could i just rub myself against you?” You berate yourself for sounding so meek, so unsure, but you’ve never done anything like this before, never had to take control of the situation. “Like, if you don’t want to…um, touch me.” He looks at you wordlessly, gorgeous lips parted at your suggestion.

His tongue brushes over his bottom lip, “I– Okay, sure…” 

With his permission, you push up against the couch to get up and straddle over him. Clearly, he wasn’t expecting it with how his hands barely hover over your body like he’s unsure whether he wants to pull you closer or shove you off his lap. “Is this okay?” 

“Yeah.” He sounds strained, “But just for a little bit, alright?” 

“Ok.” You promise though you’re sure that once you get a taste, you’ll never want to stop. You have to make this good for him so he’ll want you back.

You settle against him, body thrumming with anticipation when your clothed cunt meets the prominent hardness under his jeans. So he does want it. His hands clasp onto your waist when you start to move over him, hips experimentally rolling against his.

Jake watches you move over him with a look of deep hunger and awe. It’s endearing how shy you are, even now grinding on his lap. Your movements are clumsy – unpracticed as you desperately try to chase that spark that’ll satisfy the heat buried deep down inside of you. 

“That good, baby?” 

You nod, mewling quietly as the seam of his jeans drags perfectly against your clit. Pleasure pools in your stomach, nudging you closer and closer to the edge. You hold onto his shoulders as you work yourself over him, panting from your effort. He starts to cant his hips upwards to meet your thrusts, pressing his erection roughly against your core to show you just how much he wants you. 

All you can think of is how good it would feel to have him bare against you, skin to skin. When you meet your peak, body hot and trembling as you rub against him, the end never comes. It’s not enough. You’re just left teetering at the top with no drop in sight.

You huff, “Jake, can I – just…please.” You let your hands drop from his shoulders to start working on his belt.

“What is it bunny, what do you need?” He looks so good under you with his wrinkled shirt unbuttoned just so to give you a peak of his collarbone and the newly open belt hanging from the loops in his tight jeans. You undo the button, fingers briefly fumbling as your knuckle brushes against his bulge.

“Just need to feel you.” You paw at the waist of his pants, trying to subtly indicate that you need his help to take them off. But he sits there and smiles sweetly at your frustrated huffs. 

“And what about me?” He says in a teasing drawl. He drags you closer to him and cups your face until your lips nearly meet yours. He’s so close that you can make out the light dusting of freckles that grace his nose and cheeks. Amber eyes bore into yours as he whispers, “You’re using my body and haven’t even given me a kiss yet.”

“Oh.” Your gaze drops to his lips, “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize, baby.” He leans in, “just kiss me.” Your eyes flutter close when you meet the softness of his lips. You immediately melt into the gentle caress of his hand on your jaw with a sigh as he desperately keeps you close. 

Jake groans, drinking in the sweetness of your lips, a taste of pure heaven melting on the tip of his tongue, before hungrily deepening the kiss. He licks against the seam of your mouth, begging you to open yourself up to him. You surrender yourself to him, letting him slide in and taste you from the inside out. 

Your hands move up from his shoulders to his soft curls, tugging eagerly in an attempt to hear the soft groan that rumbles in his chest. He nips at your bottom lip, suckling it until it’s pink and tender, wanting to leave a mark so you’ll always think of him. He can’t help but press against you when you whimper for him, grinding eagerly against your center, wishing he was inside of you instead.  

“Just the tip.” You mumble it against his lips. He’s too far gone to clearly hear what you said, lost in a thick fog of awe, lust, and…love. At his silence, you pull away to look at him, scared you’re asking for too much. “Jake.” He nods thoughtlessly, chasing your lips, already missing your taste. He almost whines when you pull away from his touch, but quickly comes back to reality when he sees the way you’re nervously looking at him. 

He squeezes your waist comfortingly, “Anything you want, bunny.” You smile at the pet name and gratefully peck his lips. He tries to deepen the kiss, hand already pressing against the back of your head, but you cheekily pull away before he gets too far. You stand up, ignoring his objections and clingy touches as you get off of his lap. 

You fluidly slip your shirt over your head before carelessly dropping it to the floor behind you. There’s fire in his eyes as he sits back on the couch and watches you reveal the cute bra that cups you so perfectly. You tease the edge of your waistband as you look down at him, “Off, please.” You gesture at his jeans. He follows your directions, quickly shimmying his pants off, eyes on you the whole time.

You follow him, tugging your shorts off to show him the matching panties. You squeak when warm hands abruptly pull you to the couch, eagerly wandering over your waist and hips as he buries his face against your neck. 

“Can’t help it, baby,” His touch drifts up to cup the underside of your tits, trailing carefully over the curve to memorize the shape of you. “You’re just so fucking pretty.” He groans hot and heavy against your neck as he squeezes your softness. 

You’re back on top of him, naked thighs draped over his, skin against skin, and now, you can feel all of him. He’s pressed so deliciously against your core, pulsing with pure desire and heat. The only thing separating the two of you is fading self-control and a pair of thin panties.

His mustache tickles against your throat as his lips drift over your pulse point. He presses heady kisses against the edge of your jaw, gauging where your most tender spots are. 

“Oh–!” Your thighs clench around him when he touches a particularly delicate area near your ear. He gently nips at the spot, holding you tighter when you moan at the feeling.

Jake lets out a broken groan when you reach between your bodies and take him into your hand. He tries to continue giving your body loving attention with his lips, but his kisses get messy, dragging lazily over your shoulder and collarbone, with how distracted he is by your touch. He has to pull away for a breather and hold himself back from thrusting into your fist when you squeeze him teasingly at the base. 

“Bunny…” You both look down and watch as your smaller hand slowly strokes him. His cock is flush with need, leaking so prettily as you try your hardest to make it good for him. You slip your other hand under his shirt, running your fingers against his coarse happy trail to his rippling muscles. The couch groans next to you as he harshly grips the arm, barely holding himself back with white knuckles. “Oh, f-fuck.” His body stiffens under you as you brush your thumb against the sensitive underside of the tip. 

You tenderly massage the spot, watching in awe as he continues to spill over your fingers, making a mess that drips onto your inner thighs and the edge of his shirt. He groans at the sight, his cock throbbing desperately in your hold.

As beads of white paint your fingers, your mouth waters just thinking about how he tastes. You feel ravenous to see him cum, to watch how easily you can ruin him. “H-hold on, cariño. Give me a second.” Jake chokes out. His hips stutter under you before he pulls your hand away.

"Whyy." You whine, pouting up at him with starry eyes. You reach for him again with the hand he isn’t holding onto, brushing your fingers against his sensitive cock. He shudders for you with a broken groan. 

“I'm close-- just – stop for a moment –” Both hands are pinned to your side as Jake’s chest heaves under his shirt. He rests his head back against the couch, eyes closed as he struggles to hold himself back. 

“But…I want you to.”

“I know, baby,” He lifts his head, dark eyes boring into yours, and pulls your hands behind you. You squirm in his lap, back arching at the position, suddenly remembering your own desperation. It feels good to be bound by his hands, to let him do whatever he wants to your body. “But I don’t wanna finish if it isn’t in you.” 

Your face heats in embarrassment. “Oh.” 

Jake picks up on your sudden shyness immediately. 

“You like that, don’t you, bunny?” He smirks, “The thought of me filling you up, then dripping out of you?”

You bite your lip, “A little bit.”

“A little, hm?” He ponders, “Well why don’t we try it out and see.” Your thighs clench around him at the idea.

“Ok.”

“Sit up, let me see how wet you are.” He helps you raise yourself on your knees so you’re hovering over his lap. Letting go of your wrists, he drags his thumb against your clothed cunt; The fabric has a darkened splotch along your opening, teasing him with evidence of your lust. “Aw, sweetheart, you’re soaked…” He nudges your panties to the side, slipping his fingers against your wet opening. “Gonna ruin these pretty little panties, hm?” You nod wordlessly, hips desperately pushing against his touch.

He gently slides against your dripping entrance, making a mess of your cunt with teasing circling motions. Wet, decadent sounds fill the limited space between you as his fingers prod ever so slightly against the spot where you need him most.  A helpless sound is pushed out of you when he finally eases two fingers inside of you.

“Is that good, bunny?” He coos as he slowly fucks his fingers into you. It’s only his fingers, but he’s already filling you up so deliciously. His dark eyes are hungrily locked on how he fills you up over and over again, slick dripping down his knuckles and over his palm. “Hm?” 

You nod again, brain foggy with pleasure. “Yes, J–” You can barely get a word out when he curls his fingers up, pressing so sweetly and deep against the sensitive walls of your cunt. You have to stop yourself from wrapping your legs around his wrist, it feels so good. “Uh–!” You almost fall over and have to hold onto his shoulders for support as he begins to speed up. 

“That’s it, baby…” Your grip on his shoulders tightens as he rapidly presses against your g-spot. You’re already hurdling towards the edge and he can feel it with how you start to clench around his fingers. “Make a mess of my hand..” Within a handful of thrusts, you’re gasping out with pleasure, your thighs shaking over him. He takes his hand away and holds you against him to keep you sitting upright as your body is overtaken with euphoria. You pant against his shoulder, trying to gather your senses. 

You can feel him under you, hard and wanting, throbbing as you whimper and arch against him, letting the pleasure work through your body. Even when you’re barely coming down from an orgasm, you’re still longing to be filled with something more. But he ignores his own needs, instead focusing on you, softly pecking the top of your head and rubbing comforting circles against your arms. 

You lift your head from his chest to look at him, taking in his flushed cheeks and dark eyes. Jake stares right back, unabashedly, in awe. “You’re so good to me, bunny.” You shiver at the praise. At the comfort. You shyly divert your eyes to stare at the marks you’ve left on his shoulders. 

“Only for you, Jake.” You don’t see it, but his lips lift into a small smile at your words. 

His hands drift down from your arms to hold you by the waist. “Only for me.” He echos, solidifying the statement. 

You gasp when he suddenly presses you down against his cock. Looking back up at him, he meets your wide eyes with a mischievous grin, hips rolling teasingly against yours. “And I’m all yours.” You position yourself over him all while keeping eye contact, wanting to drink in every microexpression on his face. 

“Yes.” You both sigh as he barely brushes against your wet opening. He takes a deep breath, clutching your hips as you begin your descent.

Your body slowly manages to swallow the first inch of him. And – oh – it’s so much better than you expected. He stretches you so fully, even barely inside of you, filling you exactly how you need him to. 

You let out a strained whimper from the back of your throat as you slowly lower yourself onto his lap. You whine as your body desperately clenches and stretches to accommodate him inside of you. His hold on your hips tightens as your thighs meet his, now fully impaled by his hard cock.  

“I thought it was ‘just the tip’.” Jake tries to tease, his deep voice gravelly with lust, but it comes out as more of a groan than a taunt.

You slowly shake your head, body trembling as you get used to the feeling of him inside of you. 

“You said you’re all mine, daddy.” The words practically melt from your lips, lethargic with heat. It catches him off guard. You moan, hips slowly moving over him to feel him deeper inside. “M-mine,” You repeat with a pant, so lost in desperation that you don’t even notice the way he’s looking at you, frozen in place. 

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” He doesn’t know what else to say, brain overheating from your ministrations. You’ve never called him a pet name before, let alone used the word ‘daddy’ anywhere near him. You’ve always been a shy little bunny around him, always preciously out of reach, a tease to fantasize about, but now you’re wrapped around him, moaning beautifully destructive words. 

What really surprises him is the way he’s eagerly throbbing inside of you from that word. Desperate thoughts float in his mind: She wants me to take care of her, she needs me.

“Fuck me.” He groans to himself, willing his body to hold back from cumming inside of you right then and there. 

“P-please.” You beg with a broken voice, thinking he’s talking to you. Jake just nods understandingly and holds you closer with an arm wrapped around your torso, wanting to feel your whole body against his. He starts off slow, pressing up into your kneeling body with measured thrusts as he dots kisses along your neck and shoulders. You sigh something wistful before meeting his movements, eagerly lifting your hips against him. 

“God, bunny, you feel so good.” He can't help it, you’re all-encompassing like this, with your pretty little sighs and panted breaths, it’s everything he’s ever wanted, so he starts to speed up, projecting his desperation into his actions. Your back arches at the change of pace as he pumps into you, and it only makes him feel deeper. “So tight around me.” He pushes against your front wall on every thrust and you swear it makes you see stars. 

Your clit inevitably rubs against him as your bodies move with each other and it takes your pleasure to another level. You’re sure the sounds you’re making verge on embarrassing, but he seems to eat them up anyway. “Ah, right there--! Jake –”

“No, bunny,” He grits out, “It’s daddy.”

You whimper, “Daddy – ” He feels you flutter deliciously around him as your head begins to lull backward. He groans as your cunt sucks him deep inside, desperately milking his cock as you’re seized by ecstasy.

“Fucking take it, sweetheart.” 

“I-I think m’gonna…” Your eyes roll back before you can finish your sentence and white fills your vision. You let out a keening sound as you gush over him, thighs clenched around his as your second high moves through you. 

His eyes squeeze shut as he gives in and starts fucking you at a punishing pace. Your mouth drops open around an empty moan. You can only hold onto him as he takes what he wants from your body, intensifying your orgasm with sloppy thrusts. With a few more upward pushes, he lets out a breathy grunt and finishes inside of you, painting your walls with his warmth. 

You both stay in this position for a little longer. 

You can feel Jake’s heart beat rapidly against your chest as you cuddle against him. He’s still recovering from the onslaught of sensations and emotions. Both of you are sticky with sweat and slick, but neither of you care. His cock is still inside of you, keeping his cum locked inside as you dutifully warm him with your cunt. 

“Such a pretty girl…” He croons, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. He looks down at you with such sincerity in his eyes, that it’s almost overwhelming. You bite your lip nervously at the compliment and attempt to look away, but before you can, he’s tilting your face up with the light touch of a finger, “Really? You’re gonna act all shy with my cock still in you?”

His words only make you squirm on top of him. He nearly chokes at the accidental stimulation. 

“You can’t just say stuff like that.” Your voice is small and cute.

“Then how am I supposed to fluster my girl?” 

Your eyes widen. His girl? 

“Your girl?”

“My girl.” He hums with a small smile before placing a soft kiss on your lips.

#jake lockley #jake lockley x reader #jake lockley smut #moon knight #cw: dubcon #cw: dub-con #oscar issac fanfiction

[actuallysaiyan]

Hiiiii!! I’m so happy requests are open baby!!! Can I maybe request some smut? I’m thinking Yuta with a little cry baby girlfriend who whines about it being too big 🙈

warnings: smut, unprotected sex, dub con, Yuta is a meanie in this one, AGEDUP!Yuta, biting, creampie, swearing word count: 1.3k pairings: AGEDUP!Yuta Okkotsu x Fem!Reader summary: you're always trying to get out of having sex with Yuta because his cock always stretches you out, but one night you bite off more than you can chew while you tease him.

Yuta was the perfect boyfriend. He really treated you like this little princess. He goes out of his way to buy you little gifts and to take you out to dinner whenever he’s got the chance. Whenever he has to leave for work, Yuta makes sure to take time to call you or Facetime you whenever he can while he’s gone on long missions. He really is the most romantic and perfect boyfriend.

And your relationship has bloomed beautifully. You started out as friends, shy and hesitant to really speak to one another. But then as time went on, you couldn’t stay away from one another. Soon you both confessed to one another, and it was like a fairytale love.

Lots of soft kisses, hand holding, going on dates together. Yuta showed his devotion through all kinds of words and actions. But the one thing you didn’t do often was have sex. Yuta was crazy big. His cock was much too girthy for you to truly enjoy it. He did everything in his power to make it pleasurable for you, but it was always too big. You’d whine and beg him to stop, but he was growing more impatient as the days went by.

He has you over one night, and one thing leads to another. Yuta has you on his lap as your lips are locked in a steamy and sloppy kiss. His hands are trembling as you continue to rock your hips against him. Then they slowly side up your body to wrap around your neck.

“D-don’t fucking tease me.” He spits out when you pull away.

You pout, “Yuuutaaa, I’m not. I just wanna fool around a lil bit!”

He growls under his breath, his patience wearing thin now. He squeezes your throat a little, making you whine loudly. It sounds so good when your airway is closed off just that little bit. His thumbs press down a little more, watching your eyes flutter. Then he releases you, allowing you to catch your breath.

“What did I say, princess?” Yuta asks, leaning in to press kisses along your throat.

“I’m not teasing you, Yuta.”

He frowns as he hears you lie to him. You are indeed teasing him. There is no other reason why you’d be grinding your pretty body all over him. Your clothed cunt keeps pressing against his raging hard-on. His hands then move to grip your hips, stopping you from doing anything else.

“Baby,” Yuta warns. “If you don’t stop messing around, I’ll have to punish you. You don’t wanna be a bad girl, do you?”

Despite seeing that look in his eyes, you want to continue pressing his buttons. You want him to snap and take advantage of you. You’re desperate to see your normally docile and sweet boyfriend turn into the monster that lurks just below the surface. To have him pin you down on the couch and to fold you into the position he desires, it sounds like a dream come true.

So you whine and you begin grinding against him once more. He’s trying to stop you, but you won’t listen to him. Then he slaps your thigh, making you yelp. This won’t even stop you. You’re on a mission and you know what you want as the outcome. A few more thrusts of your hips has Yuta fuming below you.

With movements that are so fast they leave you dizzy, Yuta has you pinned under him. One of his hands holds your wrists above your head. He has his whole weight on you now too, keeping you secure beneath him. He looks into your eyes, and you see that you’ve made him snap.

“Silly little princess,” he says with a smile. “You’re being a bad girl again.”

You whine and whimper as he undresses you with haste. Your pretty little panties are torn off your body. His large hand presses between your plush thighs, two fingers shoved deep inside of your cunt.

“Yuta! W-wait!” you whine, tears in your eyes now.

He shakes his head, reminding you of how he needs to punish you. He needs to teach you a lesson. You were so bad for him, now he’s got to correct your behavior. It feels so good to have him fingering you so vigorously that your tits bounce in sync with the thrusts.

“So fuckin’ wet, I knew being rough with you turns you on…”

You’re blushing as he says these filthy things to you. The monster that lurks just below the surface has just emerged and you’re in for a wild ride. The coil in your stomach tightens more and more, but before you’re allowed to release, he pulls his fingers from your cunt and shoves them into your mouth.

Your eyes widen when you watch him undo his pants with one hand. You eagerly suck on his fingers that are just filled with your juices. Then you gasp when you feel his fat cock slapping against your folds. A pathetic mewl escapes your lips, making Yuta chuckle darkly.

“Can your puny little cunt even handle me? You’ve never been able to handle me before.’

Your eyes begin tearing up when you feel the thick head prodding your tight little hole, “Please…go slow. Yuta please go slow!”

He laughs in your face, then leans in to kiss you roughly. He continues to just fuck you shallowly with the tip of his cock. Even that is such a stretch for you, and you’re desperately trying to push on his stomach to make him slow down. But there is no way you could get him to stop completely.

You cry out when he finally impales you on his cock. You look down and you swear you can see a bulge in your lower tummy. Tears stream down your cheeks as he begins a rough and deep pace. Every thrust has the tip of his cock slamming against your sensitive cervix.

“Yuuu! Oh please slow down!” You cry out, and you begin to cling to him. Your nails leave crescent moon indents into the meat of his arms.

“Nuh uh, princess. You were being such a fucking tease, now you gotta take my cock. I know you can do it for me.”

You hiccup as he continues to fuck you so fast and hard. Your tits bounce even harder and faster at this pace, making Yuta lean in and latch onto one of your nipples. You yelp as he bites down on the swell of your breast. Then he bites and sucks on the soft skin of the other one. He continues like this as he’s pounding you into the sofa.

“Your cunt is so tight, baby. You must like this,” he teases you, his face in the crook of your neck now.

You try to hold back your moans, but you can’t. Despite the roughness of the pace and the slight pain from him hitting your cervix, it’s really starting to feel good too. Yuta brings one of his hands to his lips and he spits on his fingertips. Then he shoves his hand between you two, rubbing your clit fast and sloppy.

“Cum for me, pretty girl!” He coaxes.

You whine loudly, “Yu– please please please!”

The coil tightens so fast, you’ve barely got time to warn him. With a loud cry, you begin to cum hard. Your walls are squeezing him so snugly, making him grunt in your ear as he leans in closer to you. There’s a ring of your cream foaming around the base of his cock as he continues to fuck himself into you.

Then he’s falling off the edge too, his lips smashed against yours as he pumps ropes of hot cum into your waiting womb. His hips don’t relent as he rides out his intense high. Just as you’re both coming down from your high, he slowly pulls out his thick cock and watches all the cum begin to dribble out of your tight cunt. He laughs lowly, then stuffs himself back into you.

“See princess, told you that you could take it.”

#bacon.writes #yuta x reader #yuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta x you #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #jjk yuta #agedup!yuta x reader #jjk smut #jjk fluff #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen fluff #okkotsu yuta smut #yuta smut

[sadesluvr]

Three Simple Wishes - William Afton x Reader

It’s Vanessa’s birthday, but her father William ends up getting the best present. 

A/N:  Pure filth, yet again. This has gone through a BILLION iterations, but I’ve finally done it…I’m off to horny jail. Minors DNI!

Word count: 3.5K

Tags: SMUT / Dom + Sub dynamics / Dub-con / Age gaps (Reader is in her 20’s) / Infidelity / Costume sex / Perv! William / Oral sex, male and female receiving / Sex toys (Vibrator) / Multiple orgasms / Unprotected sex / Creampies / LOTS of use of the term 'Princess' / William is just NASTY, ok? And a bad father but we knew that

Being a Rent-A-Princess was far from glamorous, but sometimes it was rewarding. As for the other times? Having to endure sleazy men who hire you for bachelor parties, and cleaning yourself up from that one sickly child who puked on your dress.

You hoped today wouldn’t be one of those days.

It seemed promising enough to start, until you’d apparently shown up an hour early.

“I’m sorry,” a man named William said. You’d quickly learned he was the birthday girls’ father. “Sarah should’ve told you that they were going to the movies first. It’s funny how she can forget that, but not to nag about everything I do,” he said matter of factly, swigging his drink.

So he was the complaining husband. Nothing you hadn’t dealt with before.

“Well, I can wait…” you sighed, playing with the sparkly material of your dress. Mrs Afton had specifically requested that you be a ‘fairy princess’ - so you were dressed in a flowery tiara, crème coloured wings, and a corset-like dress with off the shoulder straps and a tulle skirt that stopped just by your knees. 

“Want a drink?” William asked, breaking the tension. He seemed nice enough, albeit slightly dorky with his large glasses and oddly coloured tie. Apparently he’d come from work.

You politely shook your head, biting your lip as you directed your attention around the room, somewhat oblivious to the way the man was staring at you.

He’d heard of his wife’s “genius” idea to hire a princess, but for some reason the concept had never really manifested in his mind. He’d always seen them as slightly cringey with weird, overly heavy makeup, but you were a dream come true. Shy, polite - perfectly submissive. He wondered what was hidden under the layers of tulle and petticoat; if you’d squirm when he ran his hands up your thighs, spreading them apart so he could finger your pussy. He wanted to see you in action; if you’d stay in character whilst he pounded you into the counter, tears of ecstasy forming in your eyes as you’d squeal when you came around his cock.

His relationship with his wife had gotten stale a long time ago, and it was time that he got a thanks.

“You know, I’ll pay you for this extra hour,” he announced. “Can you do a little bit of your act? I wanna see if you’re good enough for my ‘Nessa,” he smiled, eyes wide and sparkling. Even though he was a grown man, it was actually rather cute. You loved seeing devoted fathers - 

How could you say no? 

You picked up your wand and stood in the middle of the kitchen before you curtseyed.  

“Your wish is my command…” you said gently, peering up at him through your lashes. It was a classic move in the business, but it drove the man crazy. He smirked, finishing the last of his beer before he walked around the counter to join you, leaning against the counter. 

It was then you realised how much bigger he was than you; tall, with a large chest and limbs. What struck you the most was his biceps and thighs - he was far more built than the typical man his age. For some reason you now felt nervous, but it wasn’t the usual pre-show jitters.

“…How may your Princess be of assistance?”

His Princess. You were all his for the next hour.

“I get three wishes, don’t I?” he hummed.

You pursed your lips and nodded, rolling the wand in your hands as your heart pounded against your chest.

“Well, for my first wish I’d like a dance with you,” William said, smirking at your startled reaction.

“I’m not a great dancer…” you said bashfully. 

William stepped closer, reaching out a hand to adjust the material of your sleeves down so that they were level, noticing how your skin freckled with goosebumps upon his touch.

“Don’t worry, Princess. I’ll teach you,” he said softly, taking your hand in his and beginning to lead you into some kind of ballroom dance. 

There was no music but he hummed a deep, methodic melody that came from inside his chest, almost like a satisfied purr of a lion. He was careful as he held you, as if you were a porcelain doll, making sure that his body was a safe distance from yours. Still, your bare legs and the tickly material of your dress occasionally rubbed against his own, earning an apologetic ‘sorry’ from you every time.

You were beyond perfect. Quite literally a fantasy come to life.

Once you were done, you broke away. 

“Where did you learn to move like that?” you chuckled.

“I play a character too,” he said vaguely. “I’m very comfortable in my body. Besides, my wife always said I was good with my hands…” he finished, raising his brows slightly. You bit your lip and cocked your head, giggling at his entendre. 

“What’s your second wish?”

“A kiss,” he said bluntly, and you glanced at the ground shyly. This was certainly beyond your means. Still, you were technically on the job, and you’d jokingly kissed people on the cheek before as part of it. This was the only gig you had that was getting you through college, and you couldn’t lose it.

You nodded, adjusting your tiara before you leaned in, standing on your toes as you planted a kiss on his cheek. His skin was slightly prickly because of his beard, contrasting against your soft, slightly sticky lips. Pulling away, you realised you’d left a smudge of your lip gloss on his cheek.

William hummed at the contact, unable to suppress his growing erection. You smelled heavenly, and your kiss was even better. So gentle, so precise…

“That was lovely, sweetheart, but I didn’t say on the cheek,”

Your eyes widened and you gasped.

“Mr Afton — I can’t…You’re married,”

“That doesn’t matter,” he said dismissively. “It’s all just make-believe. Besides, she’s not here…”

You remained frozen as he got closer to you, his hands again brushing the sleeves of your dress, this time beginning to slide them down your arms. You knew what he wanted.

“Mr Afton, please,” you begged, glancing around the kitchen. If this endeavour was going to happen, it shouldn’t be by a children’s birthday cake. “Not here…”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, his voice raspy. The cracks were beginning to show, and his eyes were filled with lust. “This way,”

He led you down the hall and up the stairs. Before you knew it, you were in the Afton’s bedroom, the door left slightly ajar. 

“Get on the bed for me, Princess,” he grinned. “I want to look at you,”

William chuckled as you immediately obeyed, pulling yourself up towards the headboard, sat on your knees, staring up at him expectedly. You were quivering, and it only made his cock harder.

The tulle ran up your thighs, its poorly constructed bottom beginning to leave nothing to the imagination. Your chest was heaving, exposing the outline of your breasts. Even though you were scared, you were so ready for him.

“I don’t want to get caught…” you said softly, a lump bobbing in your throat as he slowly approached you, staring you down like a piece of meat. “I’ll be fired,”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess,” he smiled, beginning to loosen his belt as he kept staring at you. “But it works two ways, you know…”

You nodded. 

“Is this your final wish?”

“No. I like to savour my treats…” he purred, pulling down his zipper. “Look up at me, doll,”

You obeyed, letting him take your face with his free hand, cupping your chin as he guided you to his cock. He was a little over average, and it was thick, with a prominent vein running along its side. He groaned and threw his head back as your warm mouth enveloped his cock, precum acting as lube and coating your lips like gloss. His grip remained firm on your face as he began to pump in and out of your mouth slowly, giving you time to adjust to the sensation. You hollowed your cheeks on his cock, guiding your head along the skin as you used your tongue to lick the sides, earning a groan from William.

“Has this pretty Princess sucked cock before?” he teased. “Of course you have…You’ve never had one like this before though, hm? Married, daddy dick,”

You managed a ‘Mmfh’ in response, unable to speak. The man chuckled and let go of your face, letting you do the work whilst he caressed your body, admiring your wings and stroking your neck, his hands making their way down to your chest. You wasted no time in using your hands to grip his base, holding him still as you began to eagerly suck him off, taking him as far as you could whilst your hands jerked him off at the base.

He huffed, and began to unbutton his shirt, leaving him in a vest, showing off his slightly hairy chest. He looked down at you, and you looked up at him, secretly satisfied at the way his eyes were half lidded with desire. It was his daughter's birthday, and his wife was 30 mins away, and yet here he was getting a blowjob from the hired entertainment. It was so sinful, and he’d barely even begun.

“Go deeper, Princess. For me…” he commanded, his voice breathy. You did, and his thick tip hit the back of your throat, making you gag. Pulling away, a trail of spit connected your mouth to his cock, and the man tutted, scooping it with his finger to run it over your swollen lips.

Had you disappointed him?

“I can do it —” you insisted, psyching yourself up to go again, but he stopped you, bending down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips.

“Lie back,” he said simply. “I have a surprise of my own,”

He opened a drawer, fumbling around through the contents before he pulled out a box — to a vibrator.

“It’s all clean,” he said, holding it up teasingly. “You got one of these, Princess? Or are you too much of a good girl for them – Maybe there’s a Prince around to do the job for you…?”

You shook your head. There was one guy named Mike who’d sold you the tires of your car once, but you’d never really pursued him.

“Hm,” William hummed gleefully. “ ‘Got this for Sarah as a fun little Valentine's gift ‘n she never used it. She’s a fucking prude, as you can tell. But you’re going to be my good little princess, aren’t you?”

“Yes Sir,” you replied, and he smirked as he opened the box, wasting no time in sorting it out. 

In a moment he clicked it on, and the quiet house was filled with whirring which filled you with anticipation. It’d been a while since you’d had sex, let alone anything penetrating.

William leaned down, hands on either side of your body as he snaked his hands up the sides of your thighs, calluses brushing the material of your skirt away before he reached your panties.

“I’m gonna put this inside you, okay Princess? Be a good girl for me…”

You hadn’t realised it was a dual operator. 

The rubbery material slid into your folds as he pushed your panties aside with his hands, allowing for the other nub to rest on your clit, leaving the base sticking out of your body. If that wasn’t torture enough, he covered the bottom with your panties, placing them back into position and leaving you with no escape.

The machine began to pulse and vibrate, leaving you as nothing but a squirming mess.

William chuckled at the sight below him, taking a moment to watch you squeal and call out for him as he lazily jerked his cock. This was far better than any porn. Or sex with his wife, for that matter.

You arched your back and clung onto the sheets as it continued to fuck you, the outside handle massaging your clit in circles, sending shockwaves through your body. You’d never been fucked like this, and it was even more sinful knowing it came from a married man.

“Please Sir…” you begged, eyes watery as you stared at him, arms outstretched. “I need —“

“Does the Princess need her King? He’s coming, doll,” he cooed, desire laced in his throaty chuckle. He walked over to you and took your hand, but assumed his position back at your mouth, taking a moment to run his heavy shaft over your wanting lips. You took him in your mouth like a good girl, making sure you teased his balls with your tongue.

He groaned, legs shaking as he ran his fingers to the top of your dress, roughly pulling it down to just below your breasts and began to fondle them with his large hands. He squeezed and tugged on your nipples, bringing you to a point of complete overstimulation as the vibrator continued its motions within you. The room was filled with sounds of wetness from both your mouth and cunt, and judging by the way you were beginning to desperately paw on William’s thighs he could tell you were close.

“Are you gonna cum, doll? You gonna cum all over my wife’s vibrator?”

You whined an ‘uh-huh’ as you nodded your head, and William grinned down at you, pulling himself from your mouth.

“Good,” he hummed. “Open your legs nice and wide for me Princess. I want to watch you,” 

You did so and he stood over you, inspecting you as if he were a doctor. You were beginning to see white, and you barely noticed that the man had dropped to his knees, face-to-face with your aching pussy. In a second, he dragged you towards him and buried his face between your legs, underneath all the layers of tulle and petticoat. He swiftly removed the vibrator and replaced it with his tongue and lithe fingers, flicking at your bud and pumping in and out of you, your juices beginning to coat his digits.

It was heaven when you came. You were so overwhelmed that you’d actually locked your legs around him; allowing him to receive all of your fluids across his face and fingers. He lapped you up like he was starving, his hands holding a steady grip on your thighs and waist, making it clear that you belonged to him.

As you rode off your high, you began to feel sleepy. William emerged from under your dress, looking rather proud of himself as he wiped a droplet of your juices from his beard. You mustered the strength to prop yourself up, and as you did he pulled you into a sloppy kiss by your neck, his tongue exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Dirty girl,” he murmured. “You’re driving me crazy, you know that?”

You bit your lip as you pulled away, watching the man intently as he dropped his pants and boxers, leaving him completely nude.

“Keep your clothes on for me, doll,” he smiled sinisterly. “You look so pretty in that dress. I promise I won’t ruin it…”

Shifting so that you were amongst the pillows, you instinctively hiked up your skirt, watching as William climbed over you. Even though you were fully clothed, you felt completely naked under his gaze, and the severity of the situation finally sunk in on you.

Here you were, the image of innocence and grace, draped across the marital bed of the parents of the child you were supposed to entertain - on her birthday no less - whilst the husband straddled you, ready to fuck you within an inch of your life.

Sarah, Vanessa and the other children could come home any minute. 

“William…” you whispered, cupping his cheek in your hand. “I-I’m scared…”

He grinned. He hoped you were scared of what he was going to do to you, and the idea of being caught by his wife. 

“Shh,” he hummed. “I’ve got you,”

He lifted your legs to either side of him so that your lower back was elevated, and your thighs rested on his own as he lined up with your entrance. He took a moment to tease your slit, rubbing his sticky head along your wet folds, still sensitive from your orgasm.

He pushed into you with little warning and your back arched, relishing in the bittersweet feeling of being stretched open. You thought he was going to begin moving, but he continued to push into you, making sure that the ring of juices you’d left on his cock was entirely covered. He wanted you to take him whole.

“Fuck, Princess,” he groaned, voice rumbling from the inside of his chest. “You’re so tight…I haven’t had a pussy like this in ages…”

“Will…” you stammered, shutting your eyes as you felt him bottom out within you, balls resting on your skin. “Oh my God…” 

“Such a perfect little Princess,” he said, relishing in the sight of your skin-on-skin. Holding your thighs apart, he pulled back slowly before beginning to fuck into you, the contact making obscene sticky sounds. You had no choice but to grip the bed sheets as he drew long, agonising strokes into you, savouring the moment. Something about it was strangely intimate.

Once William found his rhythm he briefly let go of your thighs to grope your tits through the material before pulling it down and manhandling them himself. They moved with every thrust as your head lolled, mouth open and whining as he fucked you. 

William was a man of many feats, but he’d never believed he'd be able to have this. He wanted you to be his naughty little elf for Christmas, his Cupid for Valentines, and his present for his birthday. Just you, bound by ribbon with a bow on your head would be good enough.

“You like this, hm? Ever fucked another dad like me? They must love having you around,” he snarled, and your pussy clenched at the image.

“N-Noo…” you whispered, squealing as William abruptly slapped your cunt..

“No?” he repeated. “Hm, of course not. You’re a good girl, aren’t you? A true Princess…”

You nodded, leaning up as William leant down to meet your lips in another sloppy kiss, giving him the ammunition to drill his cock into you further, your legs now by his shoulders.

God, this was the best fuck you’d ever had.

He steadied himself on either side of you, and you could feel his hot, heavy breaths from his nose and mouth as he continued to fuck you, eye contact unwavering. 

As his thrusts became sloppier, you felt your stomach knot up, signalling yet another orgasm.

“William…I’m - I’m close…”

“Again, baby?” he hummed. “And here I was thinking I’d get to fuck your ass…Hm, there’s always a next time…”

You hardly acknowledged the implication.

“Y-You gotta — “

“Pull out?” he teased, withdrawing his hips, legs shaking as his nerves tingled and he entered you for the final time. “Oh no, Princess, I can’t do that! I could stain your pretty dress or ruin your makeup…”

He was so considerate.

You nodded, locking your arms around his neck as the weight of his body forced you into the mattress. You squeezed your eyes shut as you came, toes curling as your walls clamped down on his cock, making him feel bigger than before (if that were even possible). It wasn’t long before he came, grunting and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he filled your pussy with his hot cum. He held you there for what felt like forever, making sure every drop wasn’t wasted, nor spilled onto the bed sheets.

“Fuck!” he bellowed, words broken between pants as he began to pull out, watching as the creamy fluids glistened in the natural light, even trickling down to his balls. You looked absolutely spent, and if you didn’t have a job to do he would’ve let you lie there.

Managing to pull yourself up, it was mostly silent until you heard a car enter the driveway, causing you to spring into motion. 

“William, we’re home!”

“Shit…” you murmured, looking around. How would it look if you both came down the stairs?

“Here, take this,” William said nonchalantly, handing you a pink envelope. “Vanessa’s room is at the end of the hall. I trust you know how to improvise...”

You nodded, brushing your skirt into place as you hastily began to leave. William stopped you, raising a hand as if to ‘halt’, and tenderly fixed your tiara, a sly smirk wiped across his face as he did. As he let go, his hands stroked your cheek and his thumb ran over your lips. You took the digit into your mouth briefly before planting a gentle kiss onto the tip, smiling back up at him innocently.

Keys were in the door.

“My final wish…” he uttered, “…Is that you come and work for me. We could really use an Easter Bunny…”

@fandomwritingbit @ahsxual

#florence writes!! #my magnum opus #for now #william afton smut #william afton x reader smut #william afton x reader #steve raglan smut #steve raglan x reader #fnaf smut

[greatstormcat]

COD Omegaverse Part 1

Part 2 here

Alpha!Ghost x Omega!Soap x Omega!f!reader

TW: MDNI 18+, dub/con, heat cycle

You left the base pharmacy, pocketing your refilled prescription of suppressants just as Soap walked past. He spotted you and threw his arm over your shoulders, hugging you tightly against his side in a show of protective friendship.

“Getting your migraine pills?” He chuckled with a wink. Soap was one of the few open Omegas on base, despite being more than capable of defending himself, being Ghost’s mate meant that no one would dare step over the line and touch him for fear of being ripped to pieces by either of them.

“Yes, making sure I’ve got enough before we deploy,” you replied, falling into step with him as you both returned to the 141’s barracks. The team knew your true designation as an Omega and had kept your secret safe. You’d earned your place in the team over and over after all, and you were a part of the Pack now which was the almost the ultimate show of acceptance.

“Don’t blame you for takin’ those things but just don’t rely on ‘em forever,” he repeated his usual warning when he saw the pills in your hands. “They’ve killed as many Omegas as they’ve helped protect, understand?” He stopped you and looked you in the eyes, genuine concern and affection clear on his handsome features. You nodded.

“I know,” you reply with a weary sigh. “Not everyone is lucky enough to have an Alpha like Ghost though. I don’t want to end up locked away somewhere, not able to live my life the way I want because my mate says I can’t. I won’t give myself away and I certainly won’t take a mate.”

An odd look passes across his face, a knowing smile for some hidden joke.

“Ah hen, you could easily have an Alpha like him. Ya just need to be open to it,” he chuckled and started you both walking together again.

Several days and many miles later, the snow was thick and heavy, making going difficult as you followed Ghost and Soap towards the safe house, but you still felt sweat sticking everything to your skin. How could you be this hot in a fucking blizzard? It didn’t make sense and only worsened your sour mood caused by the aches and pains of the mission. You’d rolled down a stairwell after the firefight had started, to avoid a grenade blast, and you’d been sore all over ever since.

“Come on,” Ghost snapped, equally as irritable as you. Despite the mission going well, both you and Ghost had been snappy and argumentative with each other. Soap even stepped in to get between you both or risk the mission at one point. Now you were making your way to the safehouse to await exfil.

The safe house turned out to be an abandoned farmhouse at the edge of woodland, the door half buried in snow as you arrived. Ghost managed to force the door open and the three of you entered.

“You two check this floor, I’m going upstairs to radio in.” With that he made his way upstairs, rifle drawn.

You desperately peel open your cold weather gear, and your scent broke free causing you and Soap to freeze, wide eyed. You were in heat. That was why you ached all over, why you were overheated.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck no,” you breathed.

“How is that possible, lass?” the other Omega whispered hoarsely moving closer to you, as though he didn’t believe what he was smelling. “I saw you get the tablets, how is this happening?”

Ghost’s heavy footsteps interrupted you both, the sweet scent of your heat already filling the confined space with no way to hide it. Soap moved to the doorway protectively as Ghost approached, but the Alpha stopped in the doorway before he entered the room, eyes fixed on you intently and you heard him inhale through his mask. He visibly shuddered as he took in the scent of the room and closed his eyes briefly, as if savoring it, before he spoke.

“We’ve got a problem. Price has been trying to reach us. Told me the pharmacy fucked up and you were given the wrong meds, you’ve been off suppressants since the last refill.” He stood stiffly as he spoke, chest moving noticeably with the effort to stay back.

“That’s almost two weeks ago. How long til exfil, Lt?” You asked, panic bubbling inside you, along with your body's reaction to the Alpha standing across the room from you.

“With this weather? A day, maybe two, helo won’t fly in this. We are gonna have to deal with this ourselves, however you feel comfortable with,” he answered firmly. Soap gave a proud little smile at his Alpha’s response, and moved beside you to rub your shoulder, feeling the tightening of your muscles already starting.

“It’s up to you, lass,” he said softly. “Ghost is gonna rut like a madman if he stays too close to ya, but I can keep him busy if you rather do this on yer own. As much as I’d love to offer to stay and look after ya,” he tilted his head at Ghost, “havin’ an Alpha here complicates things. Even Ghost cannae fight his instincts completely in this situation.”

Your eyes shifted between the two of them, their surprising offer clear but your consent key to whatever happens.

“I trust you both with my life already,” you reply, you fiddle with the straps on your vest. The weight already becoming too much against your over sensitive skin. “I don’t want to make things uncomfortable, you’re mates after all.”

“But we’re pack, we look after eachother,” Ghost said firmly, his voice deep and low with the effort to keep himself in the doorway and out of the room. The rumble in his words, their reassurance, teased and coaxed at your Omega instincts to trust and obey the Alpha, coupled with the scent of his arousal invading your nose. You needed to answer them now, before you were incoherent and unable to give a lucid answer.

“If the offer is genuine, then I accept.” You spoke as clearly as you could, despite that fact your heart was pounding in your ears already. Ghost nodded once.

“Right,” Ghost turned to Soap, the scent of both their arousals mixing into the air with your heat now, creating a heady cocktail. “Get her upstairs, there’s a bedroom at the back. I’m gonna make sure everything’s secure.” He glanced at you again. “Make sure she’s comfortable.”

Soap chuckle and nodded, “aye, Lt. Leave her with me,” and he grabbed you by the vest and pulled you towards the stairs, your knees already weakening and brain begin to drift. He ushered you upstairs and found the bedroom, hustling you inside before looking at you with concern. “Ya sure about this, lass? He’s a good Alpha but he’s also big. That knot will take yer breath away,” he said with a wink as he began to undo the straps on your gear with swift, sure fingers. You managed to mumble a reply, but the friction of your clothes and gear was too much of a distraction, you were whimpering as each piece of gear came away, relieving some of the discomfort. Soap led you to the dusty bed once you were down to your underwear, the scent of Ghost bleeding from Soap this close to you from his skin was enough to take the edge of the burning feeling inside. The other Omega quickly removed his own gear, down to his trousers and undershirt, the outline of his erection clear behind the fabric. Once he lay beside you on the questionable bed, you moved in tight against him, pressing your sweat covered face against him and breathing in the scent of his mate and his greedily.

“It’s okay, lass,” he whispered, running his hands along the skin of your back and pulling you close. “Alpha will be here soon and he’ll make you feel better.” He pressed a kiss to your fevered brow, and the first painful wave of need racked your body, causing you to convulse and whine. Soap hushed and soothed you as the pain ran through you, bringing tears to your eyes, and mixed with the unadulterated need between your thighs. Slick soaked into your underwear heightening the scent of the heat, and your body temperature spiked.

With a curse Soap pulled back from you slightly, and slid his hand down your stomach to your crotch, hissing slightly when he felt the heat radiating from your swollen pussy.

“Ah fuck, hen,” he said in sympathy, having known bad heats himself in the past, and began to rub his fingers across the fabric. Your head rolled back at the friction of fabric against skin, neck muscles loosening slightly and a groan rolled out of you. Your hips gyrated against Soap’s hand, his fingers zeroing in on your clit through the wet fabric and working to bring you to orgasm to ease your suffering.

You buried your face into the crook of his neck, licking and nibbling at the skin as he rubbed your clit sending shockwaves of pleasure through you that built and coiled inside you until it snapped and you orgasmed shockingly quickly, but it was not enough.

“Shit… it’s not enough… more,” you whine into Soap’s neck, hips grinding against his hand in desperation as your pussy clenches around emptiness.

“Shhhh, it’s okay,” he cooed, “Alpha will be here soon. He’s gonna take care of ya.”

Both Soap and you were hit with the scent of Ghost’s arousal as he appeared in the doorway, your body trembling to a worrying extent against Soap. Ghost had already removed his vest, jacket and boots as he moved to the edge of the rickety bed.

“Sit rep,” he growled looking down at you, his eyes burning through his mask.

“It’s bad, Si,” Soap explained to his mate. “Those fuckin’ suppressants have done a number on her system and it’s gone haywire now they’ve cleared out.”

You convulsed again on the bed, your eyes pleading as you looked over at Ghost, the Alpha that could make it stop. His scent curled into your brain and drew a whine from your throat, which he reacted to on instinct. Ghost moved forward onto the bed where Soap cradled you, and reached out with a gloved hand.

“I’m not gonna hurt you, Omega,” Ghost said softly, reaching out and putting one huge hand on the side of your neck. His covered thumb gently teased your scent gland, sending a wave of boneless submission through your body. “That’s it, just like that,” he said as he moved closer and gathered you in his arms. You curled in on yourself, pushing your face against him and taking great lungfuls of his scent, letting it work its way into your very veins to ease the burning all over you. “Shit, she’s burning up,” you heard Ghost say over the top of your head to Soap, concern clear in his voice.

“I already got her to cum once, she needs a knot,” Soap replied. Another wave of pain seared through your body and you cried out, clutching onto Ghost’s shirt. You were dimly aware of your body being moved and rearranged by the two men, the last items of clothing being shed from all bodies including your sodden underwear. Ghost even lifted the bottom of his balaclava to expose his mouth and you felt his breath tickle across your gland.

The musty mattress of the bed pressed against your back, which arched as the most painful wave of heat coursed through your sweat covered body. Your thighs clench together tightly as Ghost leant over you, covering your body with his and the contact of his skin against your causing you to whine.

His hand grabbed the side of your neck, thumb pressing into your scent gland in an attempt to relax you but the spasms refused to subside.

Strong hands gripped your legs and pried them apart roughly, the sting of the cold air against your superheated pussy an unwelcome sensation prompting you to struggle against them until a tongue ran over your gland, forcing you to submit.

“Fucking hell,” Ghost hissed as he pushed the head of his cock against your entrance, the heat almost searing his skin. The Alpha panted as your pussy welcomed him inside, slick coating and dribbling around his length as he hilted himself, and your cries of pain shifted into throaty moans of pleasure as your body was filled with what it needed. The stretch of his cock in your pussy satisfying and overwhelming at once.

“That’s a sight,” Soap whispered in awe, slowly palming himself as his mate began to grind into you. Once he began to pull his hips back and snap them against you, setting a steady rhythm, your body relaxed more and your hips rolled in time with his movements.

“There you go, good pup,” Ghost muttered against your ear, his breath huffing against your sensitive skin in time with his thrusts. Small kisses and licks were pressed against your neck and ear as the hulking Alpha moved at a delicious pace in your pussy, sending waves of electricity up your spine.

The sensation coiled in your lower stomach, burning hot with the hormones ravaging your body. He suddenly pulled at you your snarled, pure Omega instinct lighting your brain and sending your lunging at him to bring back what you needed, craved.

Soap grabbed you before Ghost could react pulling you back down, narrowly escaping your snapping teeth, fangs extended.

“Hold her Johnnny!” Ghost barked, the sound enough to make you cower briefly and let Soap and Ghost force you onto your front. “Calm down, pup. You’ll get what you need,” he snarled as he pushed into you again once he was happy with your position. You pushed your hips up and back to meet his thrust which went deeper, sawing his cock back and forth across your most sensitive spot. Soap cradled your head, watching in rapt awe as your eyes rolled back and your tongue lolled from your mouth.

“So fuckin’ gorgeous,” he moaned and kissed you, pushing his tongue into your mouthy sloppily. One of his hands slipped under your hips and rubbed at your swollen clit again, rushing you towards another orgasm, this time on an Alpha’s cock. The coil of pleasure burning inside you quickly snapped and your screamed into Soap’s kiss, pussy clenching tightly onto Ghost.

You whined as Ghost continued to fuck into you through your orgasm, muscles spasming with each thrusts and squeezing his cock tightly to urge him to cum. Acting on instinct he lowered himself over your back, forearm supporting your abdomen to keep you where he wanted you, as his knot began to swell, catching in your entrance and sending shockwaves along your spine. You squirmed in his grip, the alien sensation of the knot causing panic to ripple through you, until Ghost’s mouth covered your scent gland, tongue laving over the delicate skin and robbing you of your will to fight the feeling.

“Stay still… gonna knot you…” he grunted, still thrusting until the knot swelled to lock him in place leaving him only able to make shallow thrusts which ended with a final, almost vicious thrust as he came, his body shaking and breath leaving his chest in a rush.

Ghost held you tightly and rolled to the side, taking you with him, and held you against his chest. Soap lay down with you both, pressing against you to keep you in place on his mate’s knot.

“That better, bonnie?” Soap asked, gently touching your lower stomach where Ghost’s engorged cock made a small mound.

“Yeah, bit better,” you managed to reply, your head still fuzzy but the fire subsided enough to breathe again whilst not letting go of you completely.

“It’ll be back again soon, but we’ll get ya through this,” he murmured, stroking your sweat covered skin.

It was several more hours before the heat broke, during which Ghost and Soap took turns with you, stuffing your aching pussy with cock and cum. When Ghost’s urge to place a mating bite was too much to ignore, Soap would lay across you letting his mate bite him instead.

Eventually it broke, and you were left exhausted and drained, sandwiched between Ghost and Soap. The snow finally stopped and the sound of the help approaching spurred you all into action.

You trembled as you dressed, but the others helped you with longer touches and tenderness that hadn’t been there before.

“What happens now?” You asked Ghost after you boarded the helicopter, your voice hoarse. The Alpha looked at you thoughtfully in the seat beside him.

“We will work it out,” he answered with a nod from Soap opposite him.

Captain Price was waiting on the tarmac when the helo landed, and watched as Soap and Ghost helped you down onto the ground in a weak and dehydrated state. As the three of you neared, his nostrils flared with the mixture of scents, his expression unreadable.

“We’ll get you to medical soon but you three come with me first,” he said in a low voice, devoid of any hint of what he was thinking. You stiffened slightly, doubt and worry gnawing at you.

“Come on,” Ghost said softly, nudging your shoulder gently to get you moving.

The three of you trudged into Price’s office, with Soap keeping close beside you as you wobbled slightly as you walked. Ghost glanced at you from the corner of his eye, from time to time, checking you as well.

As you enter Price's office, a heavy hand gripped your shoulder and steered you towards a chair and pushed you firmly into it, your knees buckling willingly as you sink into it. Ghost huffed in response to your compliance and stood beside you, Soap taking position on the other side.

“I’m glad to see you’re all in one piece,” he said, although it was hard to tell if he was referring to the mission or the heat. “We need to address the issue with the suppressants, obviously this wasn’t your fault but it leaves you in a difficult situation. Anyone with a nose on base can now tell your true designation, plus right now you’re reeking of these two.”

“That’s not a problem, sir,” Ghost volunteered, and Soap nodded his agreement. Price raised an eyebrow at this.

“You’re collecting Omegas now, one not enough for you?” Prince asked the Lieutenant, who shrugged in response, any hint of his feelings hidden by his mask.

“Didn’t mark her, Soap kept gettin’ in the way.”

“What he means is,” Soap jumped in, “we are a pack and we don’t see why the lass shouldn't be afforded all the privileges of that. We’ve helped each other through heats and ruts plenty of times, Captain.”

Price sat quietly and considered this for a moment. “You’ve got a point, son. However,” he said, looking you firmly in the eyes, “you're now officially an unclaimed Omega in a base crammed with Alphas, you know the risks associated with this. Some cannot, or will not, control their instincts as well as they should.”

“I understand sir,” you reply, returning his stare with your back as straight as you can manage. The intense fatigue and aching in your bones stealing your normal confident posture.

“Think carefully, you’re going to medical next and they will want you to go back on the suppressants. It’s your choice if you do or not though, I’ve never forced you before and I won’t now, but you have to accept the consequences. The 141 are your pack but we cannot be with you 24 hours a day.”

Gaz escorted you to medical and stayed with you while you were treated for the effects of your extreme and prolonged heat. You were badly dehydrated and placed on a drip for a few hours which gave you time to talk to Gaz, who was a Beta and Price’s mate.

“Just think, if you decide to be open about your designation you may find yourself getting courted now,” he winked, trying to lighten the mood as you lay on the gurney.

“Great, getting hounded by random Alphas, watching my back in every corridor and darkened room,” you grumbled miserably. You had been recommended to go back on the suppressants by the doctor but not for several weeks until your body had recovered from the sudden absence. That meant another heat was likely to hit in that time.

“You never know, you may be interested in some of them,” he countered, his voice soothing and calm. “You’d be surprised who has been keeping an eye on you all this time.” He smirked knowingly, making you stare at him suddenly.

“You know something,” you accused him and his grin widened, adding to your curiosity. “Tell me.”

“I promised them both I wouldn’t,” he replied.

#does this need a part 2? #omegaverse cod #omegaverse #alpha simon riley #omega soap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #ghost x soap x reader #soap x ghost x reader #cod mw22 #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #cod mw2 #cod 141 #simon ghost riley #cod mw2 x reader #soap x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley smut #cod x reader smut #mw2 smut #call of duty smut #soap smut #soap mactavish smut #simon ghost riley smut #johnny mactavish smut #simon riley x reader smut #ghost call of duty #soap modern warfare

[empresskylo]

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠WARNINGS | afab!reader. kinda mean!ghost to sad/sweet!ghost. smut. rough sex. trauma/ptsd. dub-con sorta. wc 1.8k ➠SUMMARY | after a bad mission, simon comes back and takes his pain out on you. ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | had to get this out of my system okay....

𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ghost found you in his room as you sat peacefully on his small bed, a book nestled in your lap. you lazily turned the page unaware of his presence. the single light in the room created haunting shadows across your face that made you appear ethereal. usually, that would gain a smile from him, but he just glowered.

ghost had basically stormed into the barracks, soap trying to reassure him that the mission wasn’t a total bust as he made his way down the hall, heavy-footed and stomping.

when he made it to his room, he was less than pleased to see you on his bed. usually, he enjoyed having you with him after a long mission, your warm body pressed against his side, your hands stroking through his hair, his arms wrapped possessively around you. but not tonight. not after what he went through.

“out,” he barked.

you startled, putting a hand to your chest. “jesus, you scared me.” 

he threw his tactical vest on his desk chair and glowered at you. “i said out,” he demanded. 

a small sense of apprehension spread through you. you closed the book and placed it beside you on the bed. “is everything okay?” you asked timidly.

ghost took in an impatient breath, his eyes focusing on his wardrobe rather than on you.

“you need to leave.” he tore his mask off then his gloves and dropped them on his small desk. he ran a hand through his disheveled hair and took a breath to compose himself. he didn’t want to yell at you. “i’m not in a good mood. i jus’ don’t wanna take it out on you.” he had to muster all his willpower to explain this gently. 

he squeezed his fists into a tight knot and he shut his eyes, his mind going back to his men shouting in frustration and pain, calling out to ghost, unsure of what to do next. ghost saw himself panic and make the wrong call. 

“please, just leave.” his voice was more defeated that time, his patience wearing thin.

you stood up off the bed and ghost almost let out a sigh of relief until he heard you stepping closer to him. 

he spun to meet you. “god fucking damnit!” he cursed, slamming his hand on the wall beside your head.

you held back a flinch but he could see the heartache in your eyes. 

“i’m not afraid of you.” ghost sucked in a breath at your words.

simon’s face was scarred and broken from years of hell. and usually, that didn’t hinder the beautiful man buried beneath. but tonight, his eyes were dark and angry. his lips were pulled back in a snarl. he frightened you. not because you were worried he’d purposely harm you, but because you knew he would tear himself apart if left to his own devices. he thought he needed to be alone to decompress, but that wasn’t true. that would strand him in his own thoughts.

“i’m not leaving,” you tried to say with merit but your voice was soft. 

simon’s other hand came out and slipped around your neck, putting a small bit of force on your windpipe as he hunched over to speak, his breath fanning against your lips. “i’m in a destructive mood, pet. i don’t wanna hurt you.” 

“maybe i want to be hurt,” you challenged him. simon’s eyes darted between yours, contemplating picking you up, tossing you out, and locking the door, that, or letting his dark thoughts win.

“i won’t be able to stop once i start,” he warned.

you nodded, “i know.”

against his better judgment, his let the latter succeed, conceding to his fucked up mood filled with frustration, anger, acrimony, malice, and self-hatred. he quickly spun you around, pushing you up against the wall. his hands immediately went to your pants and he yanked them down in a hard pull, making you gasp.

one hand went to the back of your neck to keep you flat against the wall, the other fiddled with his belt. the clinking of metal had you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation. simon was rather gentle when you were together, he never wanted to put you in harm's way. it was the complete opposite really–he’d do anything to protect you. 

but tonight he felt like he had gone back to his old self. the version of him that was set on avenging his family. the part of him that had been tortured and locked away–beaten and broken. and he couldn’t seem to get those emotions to leave his system. 

simon thrusted his hips against you, one hand on the wall, one hand on your neck. you whimpered when you felt his cock slide against you, between your thighs and bumping your clit. your pants were gathered around your knees, making it hard for you to spread them further for him. both of simon’s hands came up and squeezed your breasts forcefully, pulling you into him in a hasty motion. 

“tell me what happened,” you whispered. 

simon grunted, nipping at your neck making you cry out. 

he spun you both around and bent you over his desk, shoving your face against the wood. his hands gripped your hips, holding them so tight you worried you’d have bruises come morning. 

in one swift motion, he buried himself inside you. you whined and he groaned loudly. his voice was guttural and husky as he spoke. “lost good men over a stupid fuckin’ mistake.” his hands yanked your hips back to meet his thrusts. “they died because of me.” his words were slightly slurred as he spoke through grunts. 

“simon,” you said faintly, but he likely didn’t hear you, too lost in his own mind. 

“i froze. i don’t know why i fuckin’ froze,” he said with pure, unhindered anger. you cried out as he slammed into you harder. you knew you were going to be a new level of sore by tomorrow. 

simon roughly grabbed you, pulling you up to him, his hand wrapping around your neck tightly, cutting off most of your airflow, and holding your body against his own. he continued to rut into you, your hips hitting the desk with each of his thrusts. you mewled, closing your eyes and holding back any tears that threatened to fall. 

his hand around your throat slid up a bit further, his fingers splayed across your jaw. his hot breath was by your ear now, leaving goosebumps. “you feel so fuckin’ good,” he growled. 

you weren’t used to this side of simon. sure, he was a cold-blooded killer, the antagonist of people’s nightmares. but not with you. he was never that way with you. 

but you’d be lying if you said the way he was using your body, letting everything out of his system, didn’t send sizzling tingles straight to your belly and between your thighs.

you felt like his fingers were leaving dark red marks along your throat and you struggled to swallow. “just let go, simon,” you encouraged, your voice staggered. 

one of his hands dragged across your stomach as he pulled you into him, his other hand on your neck pulling it to the side so he could nip and bite along your throat. “fuck. fuck,” he moaned. 

his hips never let up, if anything, he began thrusting into you harder and faster. “it’s not your fault,” you managed to get out. 

you heard him groan. you both stumbled forward a bit and your hips hit the desk painfully, making it slide back in a screeching motion. that didn’t deter simon as his hand slid down to your waist, then along your hip, yanking you back to meet his thrusts. 

he quickly pulled out of you and spun you around to face him. you saw tear marks streaking his face paint as you studied him for that brief moment of reprieve. 

he backed you against the wall and shuffled as he pulled your pants the rest of the way off and tossed them aside. he stood up, gripping your ass and hoisting you up. you wrapped your legs around him and he was immediately back inside you, rutting his hips at the same speed as earlier. 

he leaned into you, his face buried in your neck, his hand tugging at your hair. you yelped quietly at the way he pulled on your hair, your body slamming against the wall with each flick of his hips. you heard what might have been a whimper, his lips leaving little kisses along your neck where bite marks had appeared. 

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” he swore. his hand gripped your waist painfully tight and the fingers of his other hand–half buried in your hair, half against your cheek–pressed aggressively against you. the way he claimed you, took you for himself, and let his anger pour out of him, was almost possessive. 

you clenched around him, reaching your own high, triggering simon’s. his nails dug into you as yours tore against his clothed back. “god,” he grunted, followed by your name in a breathy tone, his hips keeping the same speed as his came inside you. 

you clung onto him, letting the last bit of pain leave him, before he slowed and gently loosened his grip on you. 

after several seconds of breathing heavily into your neck, he pulled back to look at you. you could see the tears that had lined his cheeks clearly now and one of your hands came up to rest against his jaw. he leaned into your touch, his fingers rubbing circles wherever they were against you. 

“im sorry,” he said faintly. 

“it’s okay, simon.” you gave him a weak smile. 

“it’s not.” he looked at you. saw the marks along your skin. felt the way his hand had been gripping you, sure to leave dark bruises. “i didn’t want to hurt you.” his voice broke over his last words. 

a tear slid down your cheek and he quickly wiped it away with his thumb. he set you down and you slid your hand in his, lacing your fingers together, and tugged him toward his bed. you pushed him down so he sat on the mattress and watched you. you stripped the rest of your clothes off and encouraged him to do the same. you slid on one of his t-shirts from his drawers and simon stripped down to just his boxers. 

you pushed him back and curled into the bed with him, clicking the light off. his arms immediately wrapped around you on instinct. he pulled you close and buried his face in your hair. his hands slid up under your shirt and you felt him rubbing patterns on your back. “i’m okay,” you promised him. 

he pulled you closer against him, tucking you into his side, wanting to have you as close as possible. “i love you,” he murmured, his thoughts settling to just thoughts of you. no one else. nothing else from that day. just you. 

“i love you, too,” you said back, your low voice honey to his ears. 

#ghost #simon riley #ghost smut #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #cod #simon riley smut #ghost cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #fluff #angst #ghost angst #cod mw2 #smut

[marvelobsessed134]

Watching you

A/n: kinda wanna make a part two of this let me know if you want one.

Pairings: Stalker Fan!Natasha x Popstar!reader

Warnings: dub con, Nat has a dick, dark!nat, obsessive!nat, stalking, rough smut, some degradation (mainly the use of the term slut), mentions of violence, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, Nat is literally a mastermind in this lol.

Summary: Natasha is your biggest fan. Your only number one fan. Or so she thinks. What happens when she finally makes her way backstage?

You belong with Natasha.

How could you not see it? How could you ignore all the love letters she’s sent you. The flowers?

The redhead went to another one of your concerts, this time in Miami.

You’ve ignored her letters and gifts. So now she has to get to you personally. Luckily, she is a trained assassin. So she has the needed skills to get backstage.

After she enjoyed the way you sung and danced to your songs and thanked everyone for coming and wished them Goodnight and a safe drive home, her plan got put into action.

She was able to steal a map of the place, which included where your dressing room was located. Bingo.

Natasha walked up to a lone security guard that was standing in the darkness. She snuck up behind him and knocked him unconscious before taking his clothes.

She went behind a curtain and quickly changed into the security uniform. Throwing on the baseball cap, she was able to get backstage.

Roadies, other guards, assistants, venue staff all paid her no mind as she made her way to your dressing room. She smirked, it was all so easy. If she had done this already, she would’ve been living in your Malibu beach mansion with you knocked up with her children. Oh how she wanted to get you pregnant so bad. To see your body swelled up.

The assassin felt herself get hard under her cargo pants, and she bit her lip. Finally, she made it to your dressing room. Knocking on the door she heard your soft voice call “come in”

Natasha walked in and quickly locked the door. You looked to her in confusion. “What’s going on?” You asked.

She took her cap off to reveal her beautiful red bob.

Your eyes widened. Natasha Romanoff was in your dressing room? Why? Doesn’t she have a world to save.

“N-Natasha Romanoff? What are you doing here? You’re an avenger!” You couldn’t help but fangirl a little bit since hello, an avenger is in your presence!

The redhead slowly walked towards you till you were backed against the wall. You gulped nervously. “I wanted- no. Needed to see you.”

“Why?”

“Because, I’ve fallen for you Y/n L/n.”

“F-fallen for me? But we’ve never even met before?”

“That is true but I believe that you are my soulmate. And I want to get your pregnant with my children.” Her words alarmed you and before you knew it her lips were on yours. You tried to push her back but she was way stronger than you. And, the kiss felt good. You’ve haven’t been kissed in awhile ever since your boyfriend broke up with you.

You felt her grinding her bulge against your front. You gasped softly, feeling it through the thin material of your blue sequin dress.

Natasha began to kiss your neck and you moaned softly, letting her do whatever she wanted to you.

She pulled at your dress and slid down. Revealing you wore no bra.

“Dirty girl. No bra on stage? So these titties can just pop right out.” The assassin kissed down your neck and collar bone, before taking a nipple into her mouth.

You arched towards her, closing your eyes as you felt her suck and bite on the sensitive flesh. She switched the other one and gave it the same treatment as her hand creeped down inside your wet panties.

“Mmm, so wet for me.” She groaned, pulling them down swiftly with one hand before entering two fingers inside you.

“Oh!” You moaned as she entered them and started pumping in and out, going faster by the second. Her thumb rubbed your clit in circles and you kept moaning and crying out. “Shh, don’t want anyone to come looking for you and see you being fucked like a slut now do you?”

You shook your head with wide, teary eyes and she placed another passionate kiss on your lips as she fingered you.

You felt yourself getting closer to the edge before you clenched around her and let go, your orgasm washing over you.

“Fuck, that’s a good slut.” She pulled her fingers out and sucked them clean, moaning at the taste.

Before you knew it your chest was flat against the wall and you heard her roughly pull her pants and boxers off. It was a well known fact that Natasha Romanoff was packing. And well, you’re more than happy to experience it.

Her tip already leaking with precum, she teasingly slid it up and down your drenched folds.

“I can’t wait to get you pregnant, all filled up with my cum.” She moaned before slowly entering you.

“Fuck you’re tight. Oh my god baby.” Natasha started thrusting into you, and you tried your best to keep quiet. But it got harder and harder as she started thrusting faster and faster.

“Mmm…” your moans were muffled by her covering your mouth. She spoke dirty words in your ear.

“Look at you, taking my dick like a good slut. Bet you’re gonna be a good mommy too. Im gonna get you round and full of my baby. Then while you’re pregnant I’m gonna fuck you more and drink that sweet milk from your tits.” Your eyes widened, fuck, you’ve never wanted anything more in your life!

“Do you want that, babygirl?”

“Y-yes!” You moaned.

“How much do you want it?”

“M-more than a Grammy!” You couldn’t help yourself and she smirked at your answer. “That’s my girl.” The assassin started fucking into you harder and harder before spilling her hot, white load inside of your womb.

“Oh!” You sighed.

With her cock still in you, she turned your head and gave you a kiss on the cheek. “You have no idea how much I love you.”

And while you couldn’t really say the same thing back, you didn’t mind the circumstances.

#marvel #marvel smut #marvel x reader #top natasha #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #g!p natasha #dark!natasha #popstar!reader #stalker!natasha #dark fic #smut

[kotohq]

##. BABY, THINGS I WANNA SAY TO YOU

♡ How you (accidentally) came to know his feelings for you

♡ Contents & warnings: secondhand embarrassment (major on hiiragi and umemiya's part), unestablished relationships but implied mutual feelings, humor (this was not written seriously), manga character spoilers, not proofread, reader is addressed as pretty (umemiya) 

♡ Characters: sakura haruka, kaji ren, hiiragi touma, suou hayato, umemiya hajime (xgn! reader)

To be honest, Sakura Haruka is truly the king of not being subtle about his feelings. This boy will literally stare (he thinks it’s a stare, but he doesn’t know he’s furrowing his brows and squinting his eyes like he’s glaring at you) at you at every wake moment that you two are in each other’s presence but when you turn your head to acknowledge his presence, he flushes a deep shade of red and comically turns his head away to avert his gaze from yours. 

And, of course, having someone bore holes into the side of your head isn’t a particularly nice feeling so one day you jokingly confront him by saying: “hey, Sakura-kun, why are you always staring at me? Are you in love with me or something?” and you swear you meant it as a joke, and you fully expected him to call you stupid and tell you to stop joking around. But!! When the only reaction you pulled out of him were flustered stammers and reddened ears, you knew you accidentally threw the dart right on the bullseye. 

As if things weren’t awkward enough, he had to poorly defend himself (and confirm his infatuation further) by saying “and what of it?! What if it’s true that I like you, huh?!” congratulations on the first “oh.” moment of your life, you’ll have to pay for it by communicating with this boy. Good luck and don’t tease him too much because he might explode.   

Ah, yes. Kaji Ren. The king of not confessing. He’s not someone who falls in love or falls out of love easily so he’s probably been pining over you since middle school, and everyone who went to the same middle school with him probably knows how dumb in love he is with you. 

And that is why Ren’s good friend since middle school, Sako, broke into a sweat when he accidentally came across Ren, after accidentally meeting you. The thing is, Sako also considers you a good friend from middle school, so when he met you by accident while walking around to find the new trendy dessert, he didn’t deny your invitation to hang out. And that is because he didn’t take into account that this will happen, that his good friend would see him walking around with said good friend’s crush. It’s only when he meets eyes with Ren that he realizes how bad everything looks. You and Sako, hanging out. Just the two of you. 

At the sight of Ren’s shock-widened eyes, Sako, feels his panic meter rising to 100 real quick. He’s not about to be dubbed as someone who steals his friends’ crush, not today.

“D-don’t get the wrong idea! I met them by accident while walking aroundー” he blurts out in a haze of alarm, briefly turning his head to you for confirmation. You give a nod, and he continues his panicked rambling, which is probably the worst single decision he’s ever going to make in his entire 15 years of living.

“ーand there’s no way I’ll go on a date with someone that you’ve liked for 3 years!”

Immediately after hearing Sako’s explanation, you and Ren chime a “what?” simultaneously. you in confusion, and Ren in disbelief because no way those years he spent pining over you was just outed like that. And then Sako makes some half baked excuse to leave you two alone to talk as if he wasn't the one who made this mess in the first place, like wtf bro clean it up. Good luck communicating with this one too, assuming he hasn’t run off in embarrassment, that is. 

Hiiragi Touma the chad!! He actually has the balls to confess, I love this man. He planned it meticulously too, like what he’s gonna say, at what place, what his reply is gonna be depending on your answer, yada yada, you name it, he’s got it all prepared. And right now the timing is right, he’s got you in a secluded place so he can save both of you the embarrassment of having anyone hear an intimate moment, he’s even got his hand latched onto your wrist too. He gulps a bile in his throat so he doesn’t stutter when he tells you exactly what he’s been dying to tell you. 

“Listen, I have something to tell you,” he sucks in a heavy breath, he feels like his lung is gonna run out of air soon from the nervousness. He’s prepared, he just needs to say it. say the three words.

“I like—” “oh, Hiiragi! You already confessed to them? Good for you.” 

Hiiragi doesn’t think he’s ever felt his nervousness disappear so fast before, immediately being replaced by anger and pure exasperation. His brain stopped thinking about how your wrist fits nicely in his hand and has instead started repeating the phrase “fuck you, umemiya hajime”. 

The glare he gives the Boufuurin leader is harder than any punch he’s thrown in his life and it effectively makes Umemiya disappear behind whatever wall he came from. Feeling awkward and bad for him, you initiate a conversation. 

“Hiiragi-” “sorry,” he cuts you off, sinking down to the floor in a squat as absolute exhaustion takes over him, his free hand going up to cover his face. “Sorry. Just… give me a minute and I'll confess to you properly.” 

Hiiragi is relieved though when he feels your wrist sliding up from his hand, moving to intertwine your fingers with his. Maybe everything will be okay, after all. Still, fuck umemiya hajime indeed. read the room, man.

Suou Hayato is the king of confessing. Or, he would be, if he didn’t treat it as a joke and asked you to date him everyday jokingly. Now he finds himself stuck in a complicated situation where you don’t ever take his confession(s) seriously and he’s quite in a pinch because he really likes you and wants to seriously date you. He can’t blame anyone but himself, though, because who the hell says “just kidding” after literally confessing that he likes you. Not only that, but he’s setting himself up by saying “let’s date” everyday in such a carefree way that you can’t take it seriously. 

Truth to be told, Hayato keeps asking you out because he's still holding on to the hope that something miraculous might happen and you’ll take him seriously. So far, though, it isn’t looking any good. Woe is he. Sorry man, you set yourself up for this yearning. 

His yearning gets so bad that one day when he finds you asleep on your desk after school with your head nestled between your arms on top of your desk, he sits on the chair in front of your desk. His hands found themselves mindlessly wandering to your hair, twirling a strand between his fingers and watching the sunset illuminating your hair. He observes your sleeping face for a while, before his hands reach out to give your cheek a gentle poke. He chuckles when you make a funny face and turn your sleeping face away from him. He doesn’t even know why he does what he does next, but he gets close to your head, stopping just beside whatever part of your ear is exposed. Then, he whispers, voice lacking the teasing lilt that it’s usually bathed in. 

“You don’t know how much I actually want to date you.” 

“Do you really mean that?” he realizes he kinda fucked up but it’s okay because at least you’re aware of his feelings now.

And then Hayato realizes how silly he’s acting so he grabs your shoulder to shake you awake. He gets surprised, though, when your hand suddenly grasps his, holding him in place before he could pull back (let's be real he doesn’t want to, though.). 

Umemiya Hajime does have the courage to confess, though. But he’s also kind of afraid that you might not see him in the same way and it’s gonna change his friendship with you so he’d rather wait until he’s certain his feelings aren’t one sided. 

But all that logical reasoning gets thrown out of the window when he catches sight of you playing with the orphanage kids. He’s a family man through and through so of course that kinda stops the gears in his head from turning. In any case, though, he’s happy to see you getting along with his younger siblings, though, ecstatic even. Like, it’s to the point that he doesn’t realize he’s staring at you with such a lovesick smile that he might as well make the “hearts in eyes” phrase a real phenomenon. 

“I can’t wait to confess to you.” the words trickle from his mouth without consent from his, y’know, logical reasoning. Panic takes over momentarily before he realizes you didn’t hear what he just said because your ears are probably full of the children’s laughter. 

You didn't hear. But some of his younger siblings did. 

“Onii-chan, is that person the one you like?” as if it wasn’t bad enough that you heard the question, the little girl had to also point straight into your direction. Well, it wouldn’t have mattered if they did or not anyway because the only two teenagers in the room are you and hajime. 

“Oh so they’re the one you talk about with heart eyes!” One pipes up. “right! The person whose eyes would sparkle when the sun hits them.” Another one follows. “and the person whose hair looks especially beautiful when it’s illuminated by the setting sun!” You get the gist.

Hajime would think about how cute his younger siblings look with their eyes sparkling with excitement if it weren’t for the fact that he can’t think of anything else because his mind is filled with the sound of his racing heart.

The fact that he talks about you to his younger siblings is exposed in bright daylight, and you’re looking at him with a surprised expression etched on your pretty face.

The discovery his younger siblings made did nothing but successfully make them gush over you even more. Well, who could blame them, their older brother’s crush is right in front of them. Deepest condolences, though, because children are always unnecessarily nosy and stubborn so they’re gonna end up matchmaking you and Hajime. You bet they’re not gonna let you go until you both confess to one another, right in front of them. What a nightmare. 

#wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #sakura haruka x reader #suou hayato x reader #umemiya hajime x reader #hiiragi touma x reader #wind breaker x reader #kaji ren x reader

[perlelune]

Training Wheels | Coriolanus Snow | v.

Your mother's macabre work never appealed to you as you always preferred the comfort of your books, but when her apprentice takes a special interest in you, your safe, quiet world is flipped upside down.

Warnings: DUB-CON, NON-CON, Gaul!Reader, Shy Reader, Manipulation, Parental Neglect, Drinking, Peer Pressure, Hazing, University set, Loss of Virginity, Dumbification, Insecurities, Abusive Relationship, Degradation, Suicide Attempt

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

You flinch as you enter Livia Cardew’s house, the attention drifting towards you causing your stomach to knot. 

You suck in a lungful of bravery. 

What a strange sight you must make, strolling in with Clemensia Dovecote and Coriolanus Snow of all people, her arm twined with yours while his hand rests on the small of your back. Your heart pounds in your chest, the urge to retreat and run outside radiating from every cell in your body.

You don’t belong here.

They will laugh at you.

Silly girl playing dress-up.

Tendrils of doubt creep alongside the walls of your fretful brain. You feel assessed, and perhaps found to be lacking, with every step you take. 

“Don’t look down, angel.”

A sharp exhale flies from your lips as your chin is tilted upwards. You drown in the ocean beneath Coriolanus’ furrowed brow. His intense focus tugs you back to the present. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

“It’ll be fine. You look stunning,” Clemmie assures, bumping your shoulder with hers. 

You give a shaky nod. It’s true. After all, Clemmie put so much effort into your appearance. You should at least hold your head high and act normal.

Livia comes up to you. The dim candlelight reflects in her bouncy golden curls. Her bright red lips stretch in a wide smile as she gauges you.

“You guys came together?” 

Despite her perky inflection, you don’t miss the slight narrowing of her eyes, or how they track the position of Coriolanus’ hand on your back.

“I drove them,” Coriolanus informs.

“Oh,” she says, nodding. She opens her arms. “You guys should get a drink, make yourselves comfortable.”

“I actually don’t…”

Clemmie flashes you a reassuring smile. 

“It’s fine. We’ll get you something else.”

They both bring you to a table where an intense game of cards is in progress. You hear Festus curse and bang his fists over the table after seemingly getting a bad hand. The others around him laugh, one of them reshuffling the cards.

Some faces you recognize from the University and others you don’t. You feel their intrigued gazes when Coriolanus pulls a chair for you. As you take a seat, he and Clemmie do the same. Your eyes roam over the table. Piles of chips, row of cards and red dices. Clemensia mentioned games. You supposed she meant card games. And from the looks of it, money appears to be on the line. You suppose when they are not betting on the lives of children, these are the kind of things Capitol kids are up to.

With money and time to spare, it makes sense you suppose. Your head has always been buried so far in your books, you have never stopped to wonder what the future leaders of Panem are up to.

A sliver of fascination flutters through you as you soak in the scene at the table. 

“Snow. Clemmie. Took you long enough,” Ivy says.

“You cannot rush perfection,” Clemmie replies, flicking her glossy raven locks above her shoulder. 

Ivy rolls her eyes while Coriolanus grabs a set of cards from the draw pile. He frowns at them, a look of displeasure spreading on his face. A King, a queen and two aces. You don’t know how this particular game is played but you gather from his expression that he must hold a bad hand. 

Dices are thrown. Despite not understanding the rules, you try to follow along. When someone offers you a set of cards, you politely decline.

The dark-haired stranger cocks his head as he scrutinizes you. 

“So, you’re her daughter, right?”

Confused, you cast him a puzzled look.

“Gaul,” he specifies. 

You shrink. Wherever you are, you cannot escape the overwhelming reach of your mother’s shadow. Twisting your fingers in your lap, you give a mumbled reply.

“Yeah, she’s my mother.”

He shifts in his chair, letting out a quiet whistle.

“Wow. She always gave me the heebie-jeebies.”

Clemmie groans before scolding him. 

“Well, she’s nothing like her mother so shut up and play, Octavius.”

Another girl sitting across from him pipes up.

“All those snakes in the arena, just crawling around and climbing over that girl.” She shudders. “I still get nightmares about it.”

The boy turns to Coriolanus.

“What happened to her anyway, that songbird of yours?”A smirk blooms on Octavius’ lips, his eyes locking with the blond’s. “She was yours, wasn’t she, Snow?”

An eerie quiet falls over the table. Even the soft piano notes playing in the background dwindle as every eye travels to Coriolanus. You shift in your chair, curiosity driving your gaze towards him as well. 

A tight-lipped smile decorates his handsome features, his icy blue eyes zeroing on Octavius. 

Your blood chills as his cool baritone rises.

“It’s your turn to play,” Coriolanus says, completely ignoring the question. 

You swallow the lump in your throat. Everyone knows Lucy Gray Baird, the beautiful, sharp-tongued tribute who belonged to Coriolanus Snow, is a subject that should never be brought up in his presence. No one exactly knows what happened between the two. Perhaps they reunited during his time in District 12. Perhaps they did not. Coriolanus wouldn’t speak of it. And the rare times you witnessed him being asked about it, there was a coldness in his blue eyes that unsettled you. Like now. 

Whatever happened between him and the singing girl would remain a mystery. The only certainty is that he came back to the Capitol changed, with an aura around him that made everyone wary. 

You can only assume he and that Lucy girl did not last. So the subject must still be a sore spot. 

Octavius flinches under the blond’s stare, showing his cards for the entire table to see. 

The blond’s brow arches. Scoffing, he displays his own hand. 

Octavius curses under his breath as laughs erupt. He begrudgingly slides his entire stack of chips towards Coriolanus. 

Victory glints in the blond’s cobalt orbs.

“Perhaps you should focus on your game,” he says. “Instead of blathering about ghosts and district rats.”

Slack-jawed, you stare at Coriolanus. His expression before had you believe he drew a terrible set of cards. Obviously it wasn't the case. He somehow fooled you and everyone else at the table. 

The game continues. More chips are exchanged. Coriolanus’ pile keeps getting higher. It’s clear he’s an expert at the game. Everyone at the table tries to read him but his collected demeanor concedes very little.

“You must be my good luck charm, angel,” he says, sending you a smile that has your stomach fluttering. 

Luck…as you note the staggering amounts of chips he’s collected thus far, you wonder if that’s what this is. If there isn’t more to it. Coriolanus seems terrifyingly adept at luring his opponents with a false sense of comfort. He’ll make a bad hand look like a good one, and a good hand look like a bad one. Set a trap and watch as others confidently walk into it. 

Growing overwhelmed, you rise from your chair. The clamor of your heart fills your ears, the weight of others’ attention making your head spin.

Coriolanus’ head slants.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

The words leave your mouth in a breathless heap. “I just need a minute.”

“Is everything alright?” Clemmie inquires, concern scrunching her pretty features.

You shift and scratch your arm.

“I’m just gonna get a drink.”

“I could get you one,” he suggests.

“No, you guys stay and play,” you say, shaking your head. “I’m fine on my own.”

You ignore the way his eyes linger as you walk away, that itchy prickle over your nape that ripples down to your spine.

Swallowing thickly, you shuffle across Livia’s living room. An Avox maid offers you a glass on the way but you turn her down. 

You ask for an alcohol-free drink and the maid tosses you an apologetic look. Your shoulders slump. 

You peer around and find a spot at the bottom of the stairs. You sit, relieved to finally have a moment of peace. Being around so many people at once is still a novelty. You lean against the wooden railings. Was coming here a mistake? You can’t help but wonder. You noted someone pulling a bottle of morphling earlier and Ivy swallowing a handful of pills. At this point, everyone has imbibed, indulged, or both.

The thrall of oblivion is often strong in the Capitol. Too many things need forgetting. Too many sins. Too many horrors.

In that moment, as laughter from the living room rings inside your ears, you feel acutely out of place. 

“Sorry. I only have posca, wine or whiskey.”

You lift your head. Your eyes widen when you realize Livia Cardew’s standing in front of you. “Well. I swiped that last one from my dad’s stash,” she adds with a small giggle.

You shrug. “It’s fine.”

You’ve probably overstayed your welcome anyway. This isn’t your crowd. But Clemmie insisted and you had no idea how to refuse. How do you even refuse something you have painfully yearned for all these years? 

Livia scrutinizes you for what seems an eternity before speaking again. 

“He’ll throw you away once he’s done with you, you know?”

You blink, dismayed by her abrupt statement. “I’m sorry?”

She lets out a weary sigh, a look grazing sympathy flickering on her face. It vanishes quickly. Her mouth tightens. 

“Snow,” she groans, frustration evident in her tone. “He doesn't care about anyone or anything but himself.” Your brows knit. “I’m just trying to warn you.” She chews on her bottom lip, seeming to hesitate before bending closer to whisper, “Just…watch out, okay?”

Stumped by her sudden display of concern, no word leaves your tongue. You fold your arms, shifting on the stairs. Can you even trust any word coming from Livia’s mouth? Without Clemmie’s interjection, you’re fairly sure you wouldn't have been allowed into her home. Ever since she met you, she’s considered you with such blatant disdain. As if you were a stain that won’t let itself be erased.

You struggle picturing her delivering helpful advice.

“Liv, I hope you’re not giving her a hard time again.”

You let your body sag, grateful for Clemmie’s impromptu appearance. You get to your feet. Livia whirls towards the brunette, feigning innocence. “I’m being a gracious host,” she chimes.

Clemmie’s gaze narrows. 

All smiles again, she turns to you as Livia stomps away.

“Don’t worry about her.”

You nibble your bottom lip.

“Maybe it’s best if I head out.”

She frowns. “But you just got here.”

“I suppose…” Your mind scrambles for an excuse. You blurt out the first thing that springs inside your head. “I need to go feed Walter anyway.”

Curiosity fills her onyx stare.

“Walter? Who’s Walter?”

“My cat.”

Silence stretches for a long minute before she bursts out in uncontrollable laughter. 

Hand draping over her mouth, the brunette says, “Is that your excuse? You need to go feed your cat?”

Heat rushes to your face. Said aloud, you concede it sounds silly. Akin to a lame, hasty excuse. While there are bits of truth in your response, you can’t deny you’re craving for a way out. 

Clemmie cradles your face.

“The first time is always a bit awkward. You’ve got no idea what you’re doing, what is even going on…” She beams at you. “But you can’t back out. Not when you’re already here.”

You mull it over.

After all, wasn’t it what you wished for? Being seen, included. For years, longing twisted inside your chest while you watched your classmates form bonds and forge lifelong friendships. Meanwhile, you withered in a corner, making yourself smaller and smaller everyday. Clemmie has been nothing but kind. And Coriolanus…while his presence plucks at your nerves, you have to admit he’s been a gentleman so far. Offering to drive you home, carrying your books, and berating every guy who said something mean to you or brushed you off. No one’s ever stood up for you like that before.

Maybe you ought to try harder to fit in, be normal.

Giving a slow nod, you surrender.

“Alright. I guess I can stay a little longer.”

“You know what you need?” Her eyes twinkle. “Liquid courage.” She grabs two glasses of wine from the Avox maid’s tray. “Let’s just drink. To your first party. One of many, I hope.”

She tries to place one in your hand but you resist. 

“Clemmie, I told you I don’t-”

“I know. I know…but don’t you want to mark the occasion?” She tilts her head sideways, sympathy etched on her pretty face. “Come on, do you want to be that girl who finishes Uni and hasn’t tried anything new? The girl who’s never taken a chance?” She holds your gaze, pressing the drink between your fingers. “Sad, alone, not a single experience to reminisce…Is this really  what you want?”

“No, it’s not. You’re right,” you mutter, your fingers tightening around the glass. 

“You came here to be someone else. So be someone else.”

Her words embolden you to take a large swig of the drink. When there’s still some of it left, she encourages you to finish it. Then, she nudges you to have another glass, sliding a tiny yellow pill inside your other hand.

You scowl down at your palm.

“What’s this?”

“Morphling extract. It’ll help you relax.”

You look at Clemmie. Excitement sways in her eyes.

You toss your head back and gulp down the pill. She congratulates you. It catches in your throat and you wash it down with more alcohol. 

The effect is near instantaneous. 

Your muscles uncoil, your fear melting away. Soft, fluffy clouds replace the foggy cluster of your thoughts. A pleasant buzz spreads through your veins. 

“Come on, let’s join the others,” she says, seizing your hand and tugging you along. 

You end up on the sofa, wedged between her and Coriolanus. 

He drinks you in, a subtle smile blooming on his lips.

“You seem happy.”

“I am happy.”

Your sharp, immediate answer broadens his smile.

“What are you guys doing?” Clemmie asks. 

Livia sighs. “It’s a stupid game we haven’t played since the Academy.”

“Hey, it’s not stupid. I like it,” Ivy protests. She grabs a bottle of posca and begins to pour some in everyone’s glass. “You take a drink when there’s something you haven’t done. Simple right?”

The game is indeed easy. It also makes you want to crawl inside a hole and never come out as the night gets further along. A myriad of questions is flung at the group. Each of them grows the well of embarrassment pitting in your stomach. 

You’re forced to take a drink when Ivy asks who’s had sex, who has done it with more than one person, who has kissed a boy or girl. 

Many times, you are the only one grabbing your glass, exposing your lack of experience to the entire group. You hear a stifled laugh somewhere besides you. Your face ignites. 

You bolt upwards, shooting the group an apologetic look. 

“I’m gonna get some air,” you say. 

You stumble away. However after just a few wobbly steps toward the exit, you keel over and almost collide with the marbled tiles. 

A pair of strong arms slither around your waist, preventing your collapse. 

“Are you alright, angel?” Coriolanus whispers against your temple. 

You raise shaky fingers to your face, or what you think is your face. Your fingertips are like cotton, nothing beneath them feeling as it should. 

Your brows crumple.

“I can’t feel my legs. I-I can’t feel my face.” Your mind swirls as you look up. The room bends off its axis around you. Panic rushes through you. “I have to go home.”

“I’ll take you then,” he says.

You shake your head. Even that tiny motion makes you want to puke. 

You swallow the surge of bile in your throat. 

“No. You should return to the party. I couldn’t, I can’t…”

Coriolanus’ brows furrow. 

“I’m not letting you go home by yourself at this hour and in this state,” he says, practically carrying you out of Livia’s house as you slump against him. 

“What about Clemmie?” 

He smiles at you as you hobble alongside him. 

“She can find her own way home.”

#dark!coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow #coriolanus snow x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #hunger games #tbosas fanfiction #dark!coriolanus snow x reader

[titaniasfairy]

stepbro!sammy who manipulates you into sleeping with him to “help your cramps”!!! except he’s way too rough and it doesn’t help

thirza blessing us with a filthy ask today…

18+ MDNI

just a reminder that you are responsible for the media you consume! if you don’t like it, DON’T FUCKING READ IT! anyways bear🐻 presents..

cw: PERIOD SEX! STEPCEST! fem!reader, dom!sam, coercion kinda so slight dub-con, creampie, oral (fem receiving), cum-eating.

“cmon, lemme help! i read it in an article once.”

you roll your eyes as your step-brother continues to pester you about trying to help with your period cramps. sam sits next to you on your bed while you lie on your back, clearly struggling with your ailments.

“sam i’m not going to fuck you just because you think it’ll help with my cramps.”

you huff out in frustration at his naïve horniness, knowing he’s just trying to get inside you. despite this, he persists.

“i know it’ll help! you’ll enjoy it too..”

“will not! it’ll be all wet and messy- not to mention gross! we’d have to lay a towel down.”

sam groans out and throws his head back, obviously annoyed with your refusal to his lust-filled proposal.

“oh please, it’s not like the sex we usually have isn’t messy already.”

your jaw drops at his disgusting (but true) statement, trying to deny that the two of you have had sex before. he’s your step-brother after all!

“n-no! i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

sam chuckles at your half-witted attempt of a lie while you try and avert your gaze from the growing bulge in his jeans.

“i think you do, sweetie. i know you haven’t forgotten about the other night..”

his dirty whispers fill your head up with images of your mouth around sam’s cock, his hands in your hair as he face fucks you rough. the night ended with your mascara smeared and your swollen lips covered in your step-brother’s milky seed.

while you were lost in thought, sam slipped next to you, his warm breath hitting your ear and leaving you flushed.

“now you remember, don’t you? cmon baby, let your big brother make you feel better.”

only a few minutes later were you bent over on all fours, sam’s thick cock ramming into you from behind. the blood spilling from your entrance served as lube for him, making each thrust let out a wet squelching noise.

he pounded into you hard and rough, leaving no room for the ‘relief’ he promised. the tip of sam’s cock kissed your cervix and forced its way into you, causing you to let out squeals of pain and pleasure.

sam’s hand was placed where your ass met your lower back, pushing you back and forth on his cock to help him thrust inside you. his other hand was tangled in your hair, using it as a handle for him.

“sweet jesus. look at you taking your brother’s cock so well. my cock looks so good covered in your blood, baby.”

you let out whimpers of protest in response, seemingly begging him to slow down or be a little more gentle, but you’re only met with maniacal chuckles in response.

sam’s hand weaves out of your hair to hold the back of your head, pushing it down into the mattress and effectively silencing you so his groans and smacking skin are the sounds left in the bedroom.

with every thrust into you, your step-brother’s heavy balls smack your sensitive clit, sending shivers through your fucked-out body. looking down at the bloody mess only turned sam on more, leaving him staring down at his cock slamming in and out of your tight cunt. the sight makes his balls tighten and his cock throb, bringing him closer and closer to his peak.

“holy fuck i’m gonna cum in this tight pussy.”

sam moans out loud and slaps your ass, marking his territory. he gives you three or four hard thrusts and spills his load into you in thick ropes of cum, leaving you spent beneath him without an orgasm yet.

before your disappointment can fulling fester, sam is pulling out of your cunt and bending down to face your pussy. he places both hands on your ass cheeks and dives face first into your cunt, slurping and sucking out his own cum.

you’re left speechless, only able to let out wanton moans and squeals of absolute bliss as your step-brother eats you out like a man starved. with each flick and touch of his blood-covered tongue you’re pulled closer to the edge of your orgasm.

“sammy i’m gonna cum! oh my god-”

sam’s hands grip your ass harder and your toes curl as your orgasm comes over you in a large wave, leaving you shaking and spasming against his tongue. sam continues to slurp and lick his way through your climax till you’re completely slumped against the mattress below you.

while you’re trying to catch your breath, huffing and puffing on all fours, sam stands up and wipes his blood and cum covered mouth with the back of his hand.

“so are those cramps gone yet?”

ty for the ask <3

taglist <inbox me if you wanna be added!> : @zapernz @mortalheartache @geekforhorror @bunnylovesani

#bear rambles #sam monroe smut #sam monroe x reader #hayden christensen #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #ty for the ask <3 #this is really nasty

[cherienymphe]

Borderline (JJ Maybank x Reader)

Warnings: NON-CON, DUB-CON, jealousy, seemingly unrequited feelings, secret relationship, semi public sex, non canon ages, underage drinking

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies​ | divider by @silkholland​​

summary: The three times you had sex with your best friend...and the one time you didn’t.

~

JJ’s hips pressed into yours, his bare chest brushing against your own with every thrust. His blond hair was damp from both water and sweat, not an unusual look for him, but seeing him from this angle? Yes, that was pretty unusual for you. You gasped when his cock hit a sensitive spot in you, clenching around him and pressing your fingers into his arm. The action made him hiss, and he leaned in to nip the skin of your chin with his teeth.

Having sex with your best friend in the back of your other friend’s van was not planned.

Ever.

You and JJ were as thick as thieves, and partners in crime were all you had ever been. Breaking into buildings together, jumping off of boats together, and even getting into fights together. If he couldn’t count on anyone to back up whatever stupid idea he’d concocted, JJ knew he could count on you. You were always happy to go along with whatever…except for this.

As he pressed a hand into your stomach, holding you down and in place to take his thrusts, you fought to remember how you’d gotten in this position in the first place. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to wrack your brain and think about what you’d been talking about only an hour ago. It was so hard to do with JJ pushing into you and making you lose your train of thought.

You’d been talking about some Pogue, some Pogue you’d been seeing and the way he’d practically begged you to take him back at the ice cream shop. He was nice enough and cute enough, but the relationship, if it could even be called that, hadn’t been going anywhere. JJ wasn’t supposed to be listening in, but he’d never done what he was supposed to a day in his life.

“That sounded awkward,” he’d said, glancing at you and taking his eyes off of the road. “Poor guy was basically offering his soul to get back together with you.”

You’d rolled your eyes, grumbling to yourself and annoyed with him for eavesdropping.

“You got the holy grail between those legs of yours or what?” he’d teased, poking your side with a chuckle and you’d slapped his hand away.

“Don’t be gross,” you’d complained. “Believe it or not, but I’m actually a great girlfriend, JJ. Sometimes people are sad to see me go.”

You hadn’t had the chance to hear his response because one of the front tires on the Twinkie blew, forcing JJ to pull off of the road and into the grass. Between his anger at discovering John B.’s lack of care to keep a spare tire and John B.’s anger at discovering JJ blew one, your ex had been the last thing on either of your minds then. At least, that was the case for you.

You were both sitting in the back of the van and waiting for John B. and Pope to show up with his dad’s truck and a tire when JJ brought it up again.

“Pervert comment aside, I was serious, you know.”

You’d turned to him, a questioning look in your eyes. Seeing that you had no idea what he was talking about, the blond had rolled his eyes, pushing his hair away from his face and trying to keep cool in this heat.

“Any guy you date always acts like it’s the end of the world when you break up with them,” he’d explained, and your mouth had fallen open in offense.

“That’s not true,” you’d scoffed. “I resent that.”

JJ had chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

“It’s so true. We talk about it all the time,” he’d laughed.

You’d straightened at that, frowning at him. We? Did he mean ‘we’ as in him and your friends sans you? That was news that you found hard to believe, and you told him, and JJ shook his head.

“No, we do,” he’d drawled, half laying down with his head against the inside of the van and one leg bent. “Not all the time obviously, but sometimes to just laugh at the lovesick fools you leave in the dust.”

“You make me sound like some kind of man-eater,” you’d mumbled. “…and I’m not. I just… I don’t know.”

You’d shrugged, not liking this conversation.

“When I’m not happy, I leave. I’m not one of those people to stay just to say I have a boyfriend or something. Sorry,” you’d pointedly said, thinking hard about what he’d told you.

It was then that JJ could tell you were genuinely a little bothered, and he’d sat up, hurrying to move closer.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s meant to be funny,” he’d assured you. “We don’t mean anything by it.”

You knew that. It still didn’t stop it from bothering you a little though, wondering if that was how other people viewed you since your own friends did.

“I know you don’t,” you’d sighed. “I’m being silly, I know, but now you’re just making me rethink my methods, I guess.”

JJ huffed, scooting closer to you until his shoulder brushed yours.

“It’s not your methods we’re laughing at, I promise,” he’d lightly said, bumping your shoulder with his. “We just think it’s funny how you seem to give these guys the best time of their lives that they’re always ready to beg for you back on their knees.”

You’d given him a look at that, and JJ wiggled his eyebrows.

“I’m not talking to you about that,” you’d chuckled. “Who do you think I am? Pope?”

“I’m just saying,” he’d dragged out. “I don’t think I’ve ever slept with any girl that had me down that bad.”

JJ was laughing to himself, and your smile fell a bit, eyeing him with a frown. You could feel it deepening the longer you stared at him, and you’d suddenly reared back a little.

“You sound almost curious,” you’d blurted out, a light laugh in your throat as you shook your head at him.

You knew that wasn’t true, but the thought had been funny, nonetheless. However, you hadn’t expected there to be any truth to that, let alone the actual truth.

“Maybe I am.”

JJ’s words had shocked you, making you freeze in place, and his even expression didn’t match your horrified frown, at all.

“Be serious,” you’d said after a while, feeling like you were in the midst of some elaborate joke.

Your best friend tilted his head at you, arms resting on his knees as he ran his gaze over your face.

“What makes you think I’m not?”

The lack of humor on JJ’s face had stumped you, and you blinked at him. For a moment, words escaped you, and the van felt entirely too small and entirely too quiet as you just stared at each other.

“JJ,” you’d slowly said, lightly hitting his arm. “Come on…”

He’d taken your hand, making your stomach drop, and your eyes widened as he fully turned to face you. There was a glint in his eye that you’d never seen before. At least, not directed at you.

“Come on what? I can’t be curious?” he wondered, voice dropping.

“No, you can’t,” you’d almost yelled, pulling your hand away and looking away in disbelief. “You’re my best friend. I bet you don’t wonder what John B. is like in bed.”

“I might! You don’t know that…”

You’d rolled your eyes at him, prepared to pretend this weird turn of events had never happened when you felt his fingers brushing your jaw. You had turned to face him in shock, eyes wide as he touched you with a gentleness that felt strange. JJ was your best friend, and his blue eyes were drinking you in in a way that felt suffocating.

“JJ…”

You could see him leaning in, and you hadn’t exactly done anything to stop it. In truth, you didn’t know why. JJ had never been anything but your best friend, never even tempted to think of him in that way. Finding out that wasn’t the case for him was shocking, sure, but not enough to keep you from pushing him away at the very least.

His lips brushing against yours had your heart skipping a beat, and for a few seconds, you didn’t kiss him back. You just sat there, letting him kiss you and getting the feel of his skin on yours in a way that was foreign. You’d blinked just as JJ deepened the kiss, clearly taking your lack of action as the okay, and you hadn’t been able to swallow down your gasp. When you hesitantly kissed him back, you’d felt JJ’s hand on the small of your back, the other fingering the strap of your top.

Everything after had been a mess of lips on lips, hands pulling at clothes, and finally skin on skin.

Your eyes flew open at a particularly hard thrust, JJ’s cock stretching you out so addictingly. Sweat clung to your skin, your clothes thrown somewhere in John B.’s van, and you couldn’t even find it in you to care about how hot it was. JJ’s hands were wrapped around your calves now, your feet pressed against his stomach as he slid into you over and over.

It was so hard to breathe for multiple reasons, but especially because you were having the best sex of your life and it was because of your best friend. The thought was enough to completely drag you out of the moment. It felt weird and good at the same time, and you couldn’t understand how that was. You couldn’t even find it in you to feel guilty over making a mess of your friend’s vehicle, feeling yourself dripping around JJ and smearing down your skin.

You’d actually almost forgotten that your friends were on the way with help and another tire. You’d almost forgotten they existed entirely until you heard JJ’s phone vibrating. You were on top of him, now, hands pressed into his shoulder and pushing yourself down onto his cock, fucking yourself onto him and chasing your high.

“They said they’re down the street,” he panted, one hand pressed into your waist while the other held his phone. “They’re close.”

As he said that, you could feel yourself getting close too, and your eyes rolled as you circled your hips.

“Fuck,” JJ breathed, and you could feel his eyes on you, but you were too preoccupied with coming.

When you finally did, you literally froze, lips falling open and a choked moan escaping just as you felt JJ’s hands tighten on you. Your nails were pressing into his skin, but if the way he deeply moaned was anything to go by, he didn’t seem to care. You could feel him stilling too, twitching inside of you, and the feel had you shuddering.

He was lazily moving your hips over his as you milked him, and you literally whined when you were forced to move off of him. Your back met the floor of the van, and you stared up at the ceiling, blinking in disbelief. You could faintly hear JJ hurrying to get dressed, but you couldn’t move.

You’d just had sex with your best friend…and it was great.

You felt yourself frowning, a myriad of emotions washing over you as you tried to process this. It didn’t seem real, and yet, the evidence was quite literally on you and in you. JJ called your name, and you realized he’d called it several times. You looked at him as he put your clothes in your hand, hurrying to help you sit up, and you felt like you were in a daze.

“Hey, hey,” he said, touching your face and making you look into his eyes. “We gotta get dressed, okay?”

He was right, and yet that still didn’t stop you from running your eyes over him, drinking him in. He both looked and didn’t look like your best friend, and it was an odd thought to wrap your head around. You couldn’t believe what you’d just done, and deciding that now was not the time to analyze your actions and the ramifications of them, you got dressed.

“Fuck, baby…”

JJ’s breathless voice in your ear only made you wetter, and you pushed back to meet his thrusts.

It had been weeks, almost three months actually, since the incident. That was what you liked to call it because what else could you possibly refer to it as? How else would you identify the day in which JJ had convinced you to sleep with him in the back of the Twinkie? What could you possibly call the day in which you realized that JJ’s feelings about you weren’t always so platonic, and that sometimes, just sometimes, he was actually very curious about what his best friend was like in bed?

You had thought that it would be weird, disastrous even. You had actually cried yourself to sleep that same night, so scared that you’d made a huge mistake and that it would ruin your friendship with JJ forever. You’d told yourself that you should’ve spoken up, been the voice of reason when you were both careless and clearly delirious from heat.

After all, some moments of pleasure were never worth the loss of a friendship.

However, when JJ had shown up at your door the next morning, dressed and looking like his normal self as he offered to drive you to John B.’s like he often did, you got the sense that maybe you’d overreacted. Nothing about his words, tone, or expression had even hinted at what had taken place the previous day, and you’d actually frowned.

Somewhat dazed, you had nodded with a small okay, telling him you needed to get dressed. You had given him a strange look when he came inside, flopping on your couch and scrolling through his phone like everything was normal. Like shit was sweet.

Shit wasn’t sweet.

You and your best friend had quite literally rocked the van, and he was pretending like it never happened.

“Um…JJ,” you’d said when you followed him outside.

He’d been in the process of climbing onto his bike, and he’d turned to look at you, face inquiring. You had actually scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Are you just…going to pretend like yesterday never happened or…?”

He’d blinked at your words, features softening some as he climbed off of his bike. You’d swallowed at his close proximity, kind of unsure of how to act around him, now. He looked the same as he always did, but it was so different, now. You’d held that blond hair as he kissed down your frame. You’d looked into those blue eyes as he’d pinned you between him and the floor of the van. You’d held onto those arms as you came around each other.

You didn’t know how to pretend like you hadn’t.

“I didn’t think you’d want it to ruin our friendship,” he’d finally said.

“I don’t,” you had spoken up, straightening. “That’s the last thing I want, but…I don’t know. You’re pretending like it didn’t happen. Aren’t we going to at least talk about it?”

“…and say what? That it was great? That you were great?” he’d moved closer, looking at you from beneath his lashes. “…because you were.”

You’d swallowed at that, glancing away and feeling heated.

“Look, I know that it wasn’t your idea of how to spend the afternoon, and I just feel a little bad.”

You’d frowned at his confession.

“JJ, I’m an adult. If I didn’t want to have sex with you, I could’ve said so,” you’d told him, shoulders sagging. “No…it definitely wasn’t my first choice of how to pass the time, but I don’t think I regret it. Not unless it’s going to make things weird…”

You were trying your hardest to prevent that from happening, and when JJ chuckled, you did too.

“We were friends, and we’re still friends. Just friends who had sex one afternoon in a hot van,” he’d said with a shrug.

The way he’d worded it had made you feel better, and you were relieved when he pulled you into a hug. After hugging him back, you’d happily climbed onto the back of his bike, writing the previous afternoon off as that weird day when you and JJ decided to have sex.

He was right, of course.

You and JJ were still the best of friends who just happened to fuck each other one time. Once you were around the rest of your friends, it was easy to relax and sink back into familiar dynamics. You were teasing each other and throwing things at each other and finishing each other’s sentences again in record time. While there’d been the stray thought or two that your friends would be able to tell what went down between you two, that had soon passed after about a week.

After a month, it really did seem like nothing even happened.

You couldn’t deny that it had crossed your mind on occasion. After all, it was hard to look at your best friend and ignore the fact that you’d had sex with him. It was usually a stray thought in passing, like a little reminder notification in your head, and sometimes it was accompanied by the afterthought that it was the best sex you’d had. That was still something you had a hard time grasping, but it wasn’t long before even that fact didn’t feel weird to you.

Nights at The Chateau and on boats had accumulated into literal months since that day. It was something that you really didn’t even think about, now. Not when JJ hugged you or when he pinched your side or even when he held you close with an arm around your neck. Why would you? Nothing about your friendship had changed, something you were beyond grateful for.

So, it was kind of a shock to you when JJ had cornered you against John B.’s fridge one evening.

You were getting something to drink, and you’d gasped when you felt a chin suddenly resting in the crook of your shoulder, a chest pressed to your back. He’d startled you more than anything, and JJ had laughed to himself at your reaction.

“Anything good in there?”

Your answer was on the tip of your tongue when you felt his hand on your waist, fingers kneading into your skin where your shirt had ridden up. You’d frowned to yourself, stomach twisting a bit before slowly pushing his hand away.

“Just the usual,” you’d dragged out, slipping from between him and the fridge.

You were making your way past him when he reached out, a finger hooking in your belt loop as he gently pulled you back. You’d given him an odd look as he pulled you closer, a nervous chuckle escaping. His blue eyes were fixated on you, and he’d pulled his lip between his teeth as your frown deepened.

“JJ…what are you doing?” you’d slowly asked, worriedly eyeing him.

Your question had made him pause, pressing his lips together as he stared at you. You’d watched him blink, his face pinching together just a tad before he’d let you go. If you had known better, you would’ve noted how reluctant he’d seemed to do so. The air had felt so weird as you studied him, and just like that, he’d chuckled and broke the spell.

You had watched him scratch the back of his head.

“I don’t know,” he’d confessed, shaking his head before brushing past you, throwing a small sorry over his shoulder.

That had been days ago, and as much as the interaction had concerned you, you’d forced yourself to let it go. You’d been glad you did because in the days that followed, it was like it’d never even happened…

…but then JJ had driven you home...and he’d gotten off of his bike with you, and before you’d been able to thank him…he’d kissed you.

So shocked by it, you had stumbled back, looking at him with wide eyes. It was hard to place the look on his face, like he was confused by his actions just as much as you were, but it didn’t stop him from reaching out and gently taking your arm.

“JJ, what-?”

“I don’t…I don’t know,” he’d softly mumbled, moving closer as he pulled you closer. “I don’t know.”

He kept repeating that as he leaned in, kissing you again, and his breath was shaky as he did. You’d placed your hand on his chest, and he reached up, holding it there as he moved his mouth against yours. Before, you’d told yourself you should’ve been the voice of reason, recalling how scared you’d been that night that your friendship as you knew it was over. You didn’t want a repeat of that, nor did you want that to come true, and so you’d pulled back.

“JJ, we can’t-.”

“Why?” he’d breathed, licking his lips. “…because we’re friends?”

“Yes,” you’d slowly told him. “…and I want to stay friends.”

The desperation in his gaze threw you.

“We did it before, and we’re still friends…”

You’d faltered at that, looking away when JJ had forced you to look back at him. One of his hands slid down to your waist, trailing over your back and side, and you shuddered at the feel. You could hear how uneven his breathing was.

“I…haven’t really stopped thinking about that day,” he confessed, making your heart skip a beat.

“What? Y-you said…”

“I know what I said,” he blurted out. “I know, but…”

JJ leaned in, nipping at your bottom lip before kissing you again.

“I want you so bad,” he breathed against your lips. “You get me so hard, and you don’t even know it.”

All of this was overwhelming news to you, and when JJ deepened the kiss, you could feel yourself traveling back to that afternoon in the Twinkie. The voice of reason in your head was fighting against the heated feeling that was slowly consuming you. You were thinking of what his skin had felt like on yours, what his hands had felt like on you, and what he’d felt like inside of you.

This wasn’t supposed to happen again.

Never mind the fact that you and JJ were friends, but you weren’t this kind of girl. Casual sex was never and had never been your thing. You liked relationships, always had. You liked having boyfriends, and getting flowers and gifts, and having sex with someone you could call yours. You’d written that afternoon off as the one wild thing you’d do for the next three years.

It wasn’t supposed to happen again.

…and yet, you found yourself leaning on JJ’s bike, one leg raised with your knee resting on the seat as he pushed into you from behind. Your shorts were around one ankle, your underwear long ripped off, and JJ’s hands were curled into your hips as he dipped his cock into you.

You couldn’t even stop yourself from gasping and moaning, trembling at the feeling of him fucking you from this angle. The bike shook from his movements, and one of his hands moved to hold it steady. His lips grazed your ear, and despite the fact that he was literally inside of you, you were still supposed to be just friends, but the words he whispered didn’t indicate that, at all.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, cursing when he sank into you again. “I’ve been thinking about this all week, you know that?”

You suddenly thought about that day at John B.’s, JJ’s weird behavior, and you frowned through the haze.

“Just wanted to feel you wrapped around me…choking me…sucking me dry…”

A high-pitched gasp escaped your lips, and you struggled to stay upright. The sound of skin slapping against skin could be heard in your yard, and you prayed to whoever was listening that your neighbors didn’t decide to get curious today of all days.

JJ’s free hand traveled along your frame. Kneading your waist, squeezing your breast, curling around your throat. It was too much, and to your surprise, you could feel yourself coming. If JJ was shocked too, he didn’t show it, fucking you through it and turning you into a babbling mess. You were so wet, the sound of it meeting your ears every time JJ pushed his cock into you, completely sheathing himself inside of your walls, determined to find his release there.

You were meeting him thrust for thrust, determined to come again. You felt like a woman possessed, fucking yourself onto him and squeezing his cock. You didn’t even care that you were fucking your best friend again, only concerned with wanting to feel him come inside of you. The aftermath was something you couldn’t focus on, right now, and you knew you’d come to regret that line of thinking. When JJ came, he came before you this time, spilling into you and pushing into you so hard it jostled his bike.

The feel of him coating your walls sent you over the edge, squeezing him so tight that he cursed over and over, hand tightening on your neck as you struggled to breathe. You saw stars, and unlike last time, there was no rush to get dressed. JJ remained inside of you for a while, just holding himself there and basking in the aftermath of what you just did…again.

When he finally did pull out, you weren’t as dazed this time.

Instead, you frowned.

You were still shaking as you pulled up your shorts, a million thoughts running through your head. What did this mean? What were you? Were you friends who just happened to have sex twice…or did JJ intend for this to be a regular thing? You couldn’t stomach the latter, knowing the kind of girl you were and hating yourself for going against what you knew you were comfortable with.

You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

One time could be a mistake, a lapse of judgement or just an afternoon of fun, never to be repeated. Twice? Twice was a choice on both your parts. JJ for making the move again, and you for allowing it. You stepped away from him when you were fully dressed, and you didn’t know what to say. You could still feel him in you, both figuratively and literally, cringing at the way he dripped out of you and into your shorts.

He was saying something about hanging out at Sarah’s place tomorrow, but you couldn’t really focus on it. You were too in your own head, but JJ didn’t seem to notice, leaning over to place a brief kiss to your lips before starting his bike. You watched him drive away, and you found yourself feeling incredibly…alone.

You sipped on your drink with a frown, heart clenching at the sight before you. The sound of partygoers would’ve normally been music to your ears, but all you wanted in this moment was some time with your own thoughts. That and to be far away from JJ Maybank.

Realizing your cup was now empty, you forced yourself to look away from the sight before you. You turned your back on blond and blonder, stumbling across the beach to get another drink. You almost tripped over your own feet and probably would have if it weren’t for Kie.

“Woah, hey! You okay…?”

She steadied you, and when you glanced up, the concern in her eyes was evident. You’d never been much of a drinker, and especially not to the point of inebriation, but you weren’t exactly yourself. You hadn’t felt like yourself for a while, now.

“I’m fine,” you told her, but it was a lie.

You weren’t fine.

You were in love with your best friend…and it was all his fault.

JJ had always been attractive. Even if that had never meant anything of consequence to you, you could still admit it. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and way too forgiving for his own good. He was always the life of the party, and he’d never failed to make you smile. He’d always been that way, so none of that was enough to make you fall for the guy, but then he had to go and start having sex with you.

Granted, it only happened twice, but twice was enough.

You weren’t a casual girl. You didn’t even know how to go about being a casual girl, and now that he’d added sex to your dynamic, it was hard to keep seeing him as your same best friend. It was hard not to stare, not to linger on the way his laugh traveled through the air or the way he shook his hair out of his face when it got wet. You’d found yourself drinking him in on more than one occasion when he was fixing his bike, swallowing at the sight of his stomach when he used his shirt to wipe his face.

In the months since the last time you’d had sex, it had snuck up on you.

You felt more excited to see him more than any of your other friends. You found yourself hanging onto his every word, and when you weren’t with him, you’d absentmindedly wonder what he was doing…and who he was doing it with. The thought always made your stomach turn, and you’d get the feeling like you’d be sick.

Like now, for example.

You poured yourself another drink, frowning at how close he and some girl were standing. They hadn’t stopped smiling since they met, and you wondered to yourself just what was so damn funny. You blinked back tears as you downed the drink in seconds, quickly getting another. You ignored Kie’s voice as you disappeared into the crowd, wanting to be as far away from JJ as possible.

You felt so stupid…because you knew this would happen.

You knew yourself, and you knew this would happen, but no. You just had to listen to JJ and let him in your head and convince you that everything would remain the same. Now, here you were, months later and dreaming about and sulking over your best friend. Every time he so much as touched you these days, it was almost enough to do you in. You were torn between feeling grateful you hadn’t had sex with him again since that evening in your yard or feeling sad that you hadn’t.

“Woah, hey, where…where are you going?” John B. wondered as you moved past him and Sarah.

“Home,” was all you said.

You could hear footsteps behind you, and you grumbled when the brunette stopped you.

“Like this? Y/N, you’re so drunk,” Sarah said from beside him, reaching for your drink.

You gave her a look as you held it out of reach, daring her to try and take it. She threw John B. a pleading look, and he sighed.

“It’s getting late,” he said. “Why don’t we all just call it a night, and you can crash at my place…”

You both loved and hated the sound of that, but your desire to collapse and cry yourself to sleep won. You reluctantly nodded, allowing Sarah to take your hand as John B. disappeared behind you. You weren’t in a talkative mood, and you were so glad that Sarah respected that. She was helping you into the van when you heard the last voice you wanted to hear.

“Why did you let her drink that much?”

“I’m not a child,” you answered before John B. could.

Everyone seemed shocked at your tone, but you couldn’t find it in you to care, opting to lie down. You closed your eyes, ignoring everyone until you felt a jacket being placed on you. The smell of it was familiar, and you didn’t even open your eyes as you shook it off.

“Y/N, it’s like 60 degrees-.”

“Why are you even here?” you wondered, opening your eyes and fixing your gaze on JJ. “What happened to your girl of the night?”

The blond didn’t respond right away, looking at you strangely, and for a moment, you almost thought he could see right through you. It made your heart skip a beat, and he slowly shook his head.

“That wasn’t…that wasn’t anything. Besides, even if it was, you’re drunk,” he said, like you were more important or something.

You rolled your eyes at that, closing them and forcing back tears.

This wasn’t like you. At all. You didn’t cry over guys and get so drunk you could barely stand and snap at your friends. JJ was turning you into someone you didn’t recognize, and you hated it. A year ago, your friendship was as strong as it could’ve been, and now…now you could barely look at him. Before, you wouldn’t have even given a second glance to JJ and some girl, but now the thought was almost enough to send you spiraling.

Why did JJ even have sex with you in the first place?

Everything was fine.

When you blinked, you took in the change of scenery, and it wasn’t hard to guess that you’d fallen asleep somewhere along the way. You were in a familiar living room, and you didn’t need to sit up to know you were on a familiar couch. How you got there was a mystery, and you could faintly hear the voices of your friends from down by the water.

You wouldn’t be joining them, preferring to isolate yourself, and the thought made your eyes water. This thing with JJ was even affecting your other friendships, and you sniffed, sitting up. Your mouth felt so dry, and you were just about to journey to find some water when you were startled.

“You wanna tell me what’s wrong with you?”

You jumped at the familiar voice, and you pressed your hand to your chest. You hadn’t even noticed JJ to your left, lounging in the dark like some creeper. You didn’t answer him, simply huffing and attempting to stand. You probably would’ve collapsed if it weren’t for the blond.

“Nothing is wrong-.”

“I don’t think I can ever remember a time when you were drunk…especially this drunk.”

“Why do you care?” you loudly wondered.

You didn’t miss the frown that covered his features, and you knew you were being a bitch. JJ was your best friend…of course he cared, but you were so lovesick and frustrated and drunk and angry that you weren’t thinking straight. Sleeping with JJ had changed too much for you because now you wanted him to care about you the same way you cared about him…and because he didn’t…sometimes it felt like he didn’t care, at all.

…and that wasn’t true.

“Of course, I care,” he softly said, forcing you to sit down.

He sat down with you.

“You’re my best friend…”

Those words had you closing your eyes, and you couldn’t stop your head from dropping.

“Hey…” you felt his hands on you. “What’s wrong?”

You could only shake your head, and you felt his hands on your face, now.

“JJ…”

You always told each other everything, but your relationship with him was so different, now, and you genuinely didn’t know how he’d react if you told him the truth. You didn’t think you could take it if he got that look on his face, the one where he looked both sheepish and in pain all at once, before telling you he didn’t feel the same. You knew it was true, but you couldn’t handle it if he told you outright he’d only wanted you for sex.

In your drunken state, you couldn’t handle that…so you kissed him instead.

If JJ was surprised, you couldn’t tell. Especially not with the way his hands tightened on your face. The presence of your friends right outside and down by the water was so far from your mind. Your drunken brain could only focus on JJ’s hands running down your sides and pulling at your dress. He seemed just as eager to be inside of you as you were to feel him there. You let out a sharp moan when his fingers brushed over you, and the blond shushed you.

“You have to be quiet,” he whispered, fumbling to release himself.

You pulled on his shirt as you laid down, pulling him on top of you, and you shuddered when you felt the tip of him poking against you. He was so hard already, and your heart clenched as you wondered if that was for you or leftover from her. JJ’s lips were hungry against yours as he reached down to push your panties to the side.

Your mouth parted into an O shape against his lips as he slowly pushed into you. It had been months since he’d stretched you out this good, and you almost couldn’t contain yourself. When he was fully inside, hips firmly pressed to yours, he held himself there for a while. It was as if he was basking in something he’d missed too, and you were too impatient, lifting your hips against his and letting out a small whine.

At that, JJ pressed his hand to your mouth before pulling his hips back. Only the tip of him remained inside of you before he surged forward, pushing into you with a force that made your eyes roll. Your fingers tightened in his shirt, and you breathed through your nose.

Every push of his cock had you shuddering and clenching around him, missing this and him so much. You felt so full when JJ was fucking you, more than you had with any of your previous boyfriends and the thought had you faltering.

JJ wasn’t your boyfriend.

He never would be, and as he fucked you against John B.’s couch, a few tears escaped. You wanted him to be, but this was just sex. That had been established since the beginning, and it was your fault for giving into something you knew you weren’t cut out for.

You felt like you couldn’t get close enough to JJ, wrapping your legs around him and lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. His fingers were digging into you and holding you so tight there was no doubt they’d bruise. His face was in the crook of your neck as he curved his hips into yours, breathing labored as he stuffed you full of his cock.

When he lifted his head, he removed his hand, kissing you on the lips before his lips traveled to your cheek and then jaw and then neck. He was kissing you and tasting you, and you couldn’t stop yourself from shuddering at the words that escaped his lips.

“You feel just like heaven,” he breathed. “You always do.”

You softly moaned his name, wrapping your arms around him and holding onto him.

“Always keep this pretty pussy nice and tight just for me,” he mumbled. “…always fit me so perfectly.”

He was murmuring incoherently, fucking you and kissing you and biting you. You could hear the squelch of him plunging into you, gasping as he hit something inside of you that made your back arch and toes curl. You were so drunk and he felt so good and you were on cloud 9.

“JJ…” you breathed. “I have… I have to tell…”

You trailed off, sinking your teeth into your lip to swallow down a moan. You were shaking beneath him, legs falling from around him, now as you let him fuck you. You moved your hand, reaching under his shirt too run your fingers across his torso.

“Oh my God,” you gasped, head thrown back as he grinded against you. “JJ, I have to tell you something.”

He cursed, looking down to where he disappeared into you.

“Fuck,” he hissed, slowly pushing into you. “You can tell me tomorrow.”

You wanted to tell him, now, but you could feel yourself hurdling towards the edge, and your drunken brain was too focused on trying to remain quiet. JJ’s hand covered your mouth again as he felt you getting close, his face buried into your neck as he became determined to make you come.

You kept your eyes on your drink, the same drink you’d had for the better part of an hour. Ever since that night a few weeks ago, you’d been kind of scared of alcohol, and ever since that night days ago, you’d been scared of JJ. Not genuinely, of course, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be around him and act the same around him.

You still remembered the feel of his hand on your waist in the water. Everyone else had gone inside, oblivious to your pleading gaze as the last thing you wanted was to be alone with JJ. Not because you were afraid you’d have sex with him again, but because of the opposite.

Waking up alone and still in your clothes from the previous night on John B.’s couch hadn’t made you feel as worse as knowing that you’d had sex with JJ again, and this time, you were the one to initiate it. The level of disappointment you’d felt had been astronomical, and you’d wanted to cry for being so weak and pathetic and cowardly.

You’d had sex because it was easier than telling him you were in love with him.

It was easier than facing rejection.

You’d officially hit rock bottom, and it was that morning that you’d decided something had to give. You’d gone straight home to shower, and you’d developed some resolve by the time you got out, telling yourself that this couldn’t go on like this forever.

Seeing JJ after that third night had definitely felt like a punch to the gut, but you told yourself you needed to get over this. He acted the same as he always had, you guessed, and you swallowed down any feelings that arose when he hugged you or grabbed you. You reminded yourself that once upon a time, you’d felt nothing at all at his touch, and that it needed to be that way again.

You’d been mentally preparing yourself to have the inevitable talk whenever that came up again.

You hadn’t expected to have it so soon.

Before, where there’d been literal months in between, this time, it was only mere weeks. His hand on your waist in the water after everyone else had gone inside had startled you, and while the sight of his wolfish grin did elicit butterflies, it also made your stomach churn in a negative way too. It was hard to miss the slight from on JJ’s face when you’d pulled away.

You’d been able to hear him following you to the edge and out of the water.

“What’s wrong?” he’d wondered, and you’d swallowed, slightly miffed because you thought you’d had more time.

JJ had never wanted to have sex again so soon, and you didn’t want to linger on what that could mean. It was just sex to him, anyway, and you didn’t doubt that he’d be disappointed, but you knew he’d get over it. For the sake of your friendship, you both needed to get over it.

“I don’t really want to do that anymore, JJ,” you’d slowly murmured, grabbing your towel.

The silence that met you was loud, and when you looked over, you confirmed that he was deeply frowning at you. It was hard to place the look on his face, but the surprise was easy enough to spot, and you wrapped your towel around you as he came near. Water dripped from his blond hair and down his face and onto his chest.

“I don’t… I don’t get it,” he lightly chuckled, but it lacked humor. “I thought everything was fine. Did I do something-?”

“No,” you had assured him, shaking your head. “You didn’t do anything wrong, trust me.”

You’d watched him run his hand through his hair, pushing it out of his face as he studied you. His blue eyes hadn’t looked so warm then, and he’d scoffed.

“The old ‘it’s not you it’s me’ thing, huh,” he’d drawled, rolling his eyes towards the sky. “I thought we were friends.”

“We are…”

“Then why aren’t you being honest?”

“I am,” you’d firmly told him. “I don’t want that anymore, JJ.”

You’d shrugged, glancing away.

“It was fun…sure, but we knew it couldn’t last and…”

“That’s the best you’ve got?” he’d wondered, tilting his head. “It couldn’t last so might as well end it, now, right?”

If you hadn’t known better, you would’ve said that he was angry, and his reaction confused you. You’d shaken your head at him, holding your towel around him.

“Why does it matter? It’s just sex to you, right?”

JJ had blinked at that, like he’d forgotten that, and you’d pulled your lip between your teeth. The whole ordeal was hard enough, and you hadn’t understood why JJ was making it harder. When he hadn’t said anything more, only nodding, you’d finally decided to join your friends inside.

That had been days ago, and your hopes that things would go back to normal had been squashed when JJ had been giving you the equivalent of the cold shoulder ever since. He wasn’t cruel, of course, and it certainly wasn’t noticeable by anyone else…but you knew.

You knew it in the way he didn’t direct his jokes towards you or in the way he didn’t hug you anymore or how he didn’t even offer to drive you home. It was little changes that completely flipped what you knew of your friendship, and it had taken you by surprise.

…because JJ was mad at you.

…and you didn’t know why.

Your friendship had wound up in the one place you hadn’t wanted it to be, and more than you ever had before, you desperately wished you had never slept with him in the first place. Here you were, at a party and fighting with your best friend, only you couldn’t understand why. To add insult to injury, you had to leave your other friends in the dark about it. You couldn’t even imagine taking it from the top with them, dreading to hear Pope go on a whole ‘I told you so’ rant about Pogue on Pogue macking.

Feeling utterly alone and filled with regret, you decided to just cut your losses and go home.

You wondered if JJ took the whole thing personally, like it was specifically him you were rejecting and not the casual sex of it all. Surely, he had to understand that this whole thing should’ve never started to begin with. Had things been so peachy from his side? Had he had none of these thoughts, none of these doubts about what you were doing? At all? You found it hard to believe, and then you remembered Kie saying something once about men being simple creatures.

Maybe JJ really had thought that everything was perfect, and why wouldn’t he? He could sleep around with whoever he wanted and still turn around and get it from you too. From his point of view, he was probably on top of the world.

You were halfway to your house when you heard it, the sound of a bike, and you really didn’t think much of it until it started to slow. Looking over, the last person you expected to pull up beside you was JJ, and you paused. You eyed him as he stopped, and you watched his shoulders heave with a heavy sigh.

“Hop on,” he said.

You opened your mouth to say something when he continued.

“It’s late and…you shouldn’t be walking home…”

He wouldn’t look at you, and you found his behavior so odd. Still, as weird as he was being, he was right. It was late, and no matter how much of a weird place your friendship was in, you weren’t going to turn down his offer to take you home.

You swallowed at the feel of wrapping your arms around him. It reminded you of both the simpler times of your friendship, and the more complicated where your feelings for him were literally making you miserable. When he parked at your house, you were surprised to see him getting off the bike too, and you eyed him, watching him sigh again before looking away with a taut jaw.

“Can I come in?”

You blinked, taken aback, but unable to refuse.

“Of course,” you softly told him.

You had a feeling this conversation wouldn’t be light, and you wondered if you should play pretend at first and offer something to eat or if you should just tell him to get right to it. You turned to face him just as he locked the door, and you blinked at him.

JJ looked…troubled as he leaned against the door, just frowning at you.

“I don’t…I don’t want to break it off…”

That admission didn’t really shock you, and you nodded.

“Yeah, I gathered as much,” you mumbled, recalling his reaction that day.

“I thought things were good,” he quietly said.

“For you, maybe,” you scoffed. “Not for me…”

You crossed your arms over your chest, plopping down onto your couch.

“So, that’s it,” he said it more like a statement than a question. “Just like that you decide its over.”

You swallowed down the words you really wanted to say, confessing to him how you felt, but you knew it would only hurt you. You reached up, rubbing your temples as you stood. JJ was still leaning against the door, staring you down, and you shook your head.

“I don’t understand this, JJ,” you whispered. “You can and do sleep with whoever you want. Why does it matter that I don’t want that to be me anymore?”

“…because the thought of you sleeping with anyone else makes me sick,” he sneered, shocking you.

The vitriol and malice in his tone had your eyes widening, and before your eyes, it was like a mask dropped, revealing the angry guy underneath. You scoffed, glancing away with a shake of your head.

“We’re not together, JJ,” you slowly started. “…and besides you don’t have to worry about that anytime soon.”

Only God knew how long it would take you to get over your best friend, but as he approached you, you wondered if that day would come sooner rather than later. You gasped at the way he grabbed your arm, and again, there was that troubled look in JJ’s eyes, like his own actions shocked you just as much as they shocked him.

“I didn’t…”

His voice was quiet, and he trailed off, releasing a shaky breath through his nose as he stared at you. You watched his blue eyes rake over you, drinking you in and studying everything about you. You watched his face fall some, and he stepped closer. His hold on you kept you from taking one back.

“I thought I could sleep with you and that would be it,” he started, huffing to himself. “I didn’t know I’d be thinking about you almost every day since…fighting the urge to fuck you in front of all out friends…”

Your eyes widened.

“I didn’t think I’d drive myself crazy thinking about the day you finally got another boyfriend, and you wouldn’t…you wouldn’t be mine anymore.”

You were at a loss for words, somehow both hearing what you wanted and what you didn’t.

“I tried to just let it go, fight it, but I couldn’t…and I…I had to have you again, and I tried to fight it again, and then you…you kissed me this time,” he said through clenched teeth. “You wanted me and then you just broke it off.”

You furiously blinked, trying to gather your thoughts, but JJ kept talking.

“I wanted to break something. I wanted to break someone’s neck,” he spat, moving closer. “Now, that I’ve had you… I don’t think I can just let you go.”

Both of his hands were on your arms, now, and you pressed your hands to his chest.

“JJ, wait-.”

He swallowed your words, kissing you, and any fight against him was futile. Your mind was trying to make sense of this turn of events. There wasn’t anything to be happy about because you didn’t know if JJ actually felt something for you, or if this was pure possessiveness. Ownership. You wanted to talk about this, but the way he ignored your protests and resistance had you rethinking everything.

JJ wouldn’t let you get a word in, keeping his lips on yours, and you yelped into his mouth when he tore at your shirt. You sucked in air when you turned your head away, pushing against him.

“JJ, stop-! What are you…?”

You gasped when he shoved you onto the couch, and you felt like you were having an out of body experience. The very same best friend that you loved was pinning you beneath him, pulling your skirt down because you dared to put a stop to whatever this casual fling was.

Any thoughts entertaining the revelation that maybe he actually felt the same way this whole time was gone. This wasn’t love. This was about a guy feeling like you owed him something, owed him a part of you, and you yelped in pain when his teeth sank into your chest.

“JJ, stop,” you tearfully pleaded, pushing against his face.

“Why? Huh?” he wondered, hovering over you and holding you down.

His blond hair hung into his face, and his blue eyes were hard, staring you down like you’d done something wrong.

“So things can go back to the way they were before we slept together? If I say I don’t want that then what?”

You sniffed, trying to close your legs, but it didn’t prevent him from pushing into you, stretching you out in a way that was so familiar. You shuddered at the feel, and JJ pressed his tongue to the inside of his lip, watching himself slowly disappear into you.

“You don’t have half a clue what you do to me,” he murmured, leaning down and pinning you beneath him. “You don’t even get how you’ve ruined me for anybody else.”

He snapped his hips against yours, a harsh grunt leaving him, and you gasped. One of his hands had your wrists pinned to your stomach, the other forearm was pressed into the couch beside your head, holding himself up so that he could alternate between looking at your face and looking down to where you two connected.

“I…I’m sorry,” he whispered, brushing his lips over yours. “I’m sorry, I really am, but I can’t… I can’t let you go.”

You turned your head away.

“I can’t let you end this.”

Your face crumbled at that, wondering if you’d just told him how you felt, if it would have ever come to this. Then again, it was better to know what JJ was really like, wasn’t it? Wasn’t it better to know that he wasn’t the sweet and caring guy you always thought he was? Surely, it had to be better to know that he was capable of anything under the right circumstances too.

That was what you told yourself, but as he plunged into you, sliding his cock into your now slick walls, you almost wished you’d remained in blissful ignorance. As you shuddered beneath him, you wondered if this was where you would’ve wound up eventually even if you had refused him that day in the van.

“Fuck,” he cursed, slowly thrusting into you and forcing a whine to climb out of your throat. “Just imagine…”

He pushed into you to the hilt, holding himself there and reaching up to brush his fingers along your jaw.

“If you had never shown me what I was missing.”

#jj maybank x pogue!reader #jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #dark!jj maybank #dark!jj maybank x reader #outer banks #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #obx #obx fanfiction #jj maybank imagine

[dirtytomatoedwrites]

Preludes and Nocturnes - Part 1

Paring: Rafe Cameron x InnocentPogue!reader

Summary: Rafe discovers your hidden talent and now he has seen it, you have his full attention.

Warnings:  18+ Smut. Dark!Rafe. Virgin!Reader, Romance, Angst, Dub-Con, Fingering, squirting.  Not Proof-Read so mistakes are my own.

Word Count: 9k words (Yo it took me months to write but I finally did it) 

Author Note: Hello lovelies! So this is an original idea I’ve had for a while now... and this is the longest fanfic I’ve ever written for a character. Who did I write this tale about Rafe motherfucking Cameron of course. HA!  I may do a part 2 but we’ll see based on the response it gets.  Love you all and thanks for reading and listening - there’s music in there too so if you can listen to the tracks as you read it’ll heighten the experience. 🫶 Enjoy!

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Please don’t steal or copy bits of my writing or any writing from other writers cause karma will get ya.  

Rose, elegant and poised as ever, fiddled with Ward's bowtie. It was a futile attempt to straighten it, and you wondered if the Kooks knew how ridiculous they looked, their privileged lives spent fussing over trivial things.

"Do you play?" Ward's voice was casual, but his eyes betrayed a glimmer of interest. He had seen you eyeing the piano in their opulent living room before, and it was clear he suspected you had a musical inclination.

"A little," you replied, shrugging nonchalantly. You didn't want to give too much away. The Kooks had a tendency to pry, and you had learned the hard way that it was better to keep your guard up.

The Camerons were pleasant enough, but like the other Kooks on Figure Eight, they didn't really care about the Pogues. You had grown up being told that Pogues were different from Kooks, but as you got older, you realized it was more complicated than that. The Kooks were narrow-minded, lacking empathy and understanding. They saw the Pogues as nothing more than servants, there to cater to their every whim. It was a toxic dynamic and one that you had learned to navigate with caution.

The key to survival on the Outer Banks was invisibility. You had learned that early on. The less you revealed about yourself, the safer you were. So you didn't tell Ward that your father had started teaching you piano before you could even walk. You didn't tell him that music was your escape, your solace, your everything.

"Well, a bit of something is better than nothing," Ward chuckled, his eyes flickering back to you. "I bought it thinking it would be nice to have music in the house that wasn't rap or pop, but you know how kids are." He chuckled again. "No one seems interested in learning how to play it. If you want to try it out, our door is always open."

The Kooks were the quintessential chameleons, expertly donning the cloak of benevolence and charity. But behind the facade lay their self-centered motives, concealed in plain sight. In their company, you had to be just as duplicitous as them, your true self lost in a sea of artifice. So you donned your own mask of deceit, feigning a grin while burying your true feelings behind a veneer of politeness.

As the grandfather clock in the hallway struck six, Rose and Mr. Cameron stepped into the warm North Carolina evening, dressed to the nines for their elegant black-tie affair. You were left behind in the kitchen with Wheezie, chatting aimlessly about everything and nothing. A comfortable silence settled between you.

"Want to watch a movie, Wheezie?" you asked, but you already knew the answer.

"Maybe next time? I'm having a Stranger Things watch party with my friends. We're on season three, actually," she replied as she pulled out her phone and began texting.

"Oh, that's cool. Sure, let me know when you're hungry and we'll order in."

A few minutes later, you were left alone in the kitchen, grappling with the void of the next five hours stretching before you. Your gaze was inexorably drawn to the open double doors of the living room, and a force beyond your control tugged at your heartstrings.

There, in the corner of the Camerons' living room, stood a magnificent black Steinway & Sons piano. A work of art that you had only seen in fleeting glimpses on the internet, played by virtuosos with mastery beyond compare.

The Camerons' piano was an exquisite piece. Valued upwards of forty thousand dollars, it was a show-stopper that begged to be played in a prestigious concert hall. And yet there it sat in their living room, untouched and unloved.

With a fluttering heart, you approached the baby grand piano, drawn by an unconscious force beyond your control. As you lifted the fallboard, a heady scent of wax and mahogany wafted into your nostrils, creating a longing you could barely contain. Your fingertips brushed against the smooth, pristine ivory keys, unable to resist the urge to touch. As you pressed down on one, a crystalline note filled the air, flawless and true. Before you could even think, you were seated on the bench.

Back straight and feet planted firmly on the floor, you thought about all the classical pieces you had practiced over the years and loved to play. How each piece would sound hollow on your cheap, antiquated piano in your small family home. Music was your first love, and you longed for the day to play on stage accompanied by the New York Symphony Orchestra.

Closing your eyes, you allowed your mind to wander, imagining a sea of faces, a packed audience hanging on your every note. In your mind's eye, you saw your dad sitting in the front row, his gaze filled with pride and love. The thought of his reaction, a validation of all his sacrifices over the years, filled you with purpose.

Driven by your distant dream, you let your fingers glide across the keys, effortlessly weaving a tapestry of sound that flooded the Camerons' living room with music.

With meticulous attention, you listened closely to the dynamics of the piece. You noticed the way the Steinway amplified the subtlest variations in volume, imbuing the composition with a melancholic mood. Your fingers moved with practiced ease, executing intricate runs and arpeggios with fluid grace.

Enraptured by the music, you let the notes wash over you. Every facial expression was a reflection of the emotional journey unfolding before you. As the piece reached its crescendo, your fingers moved faster, striking the keys with greater force, a physical manifestation of your emotions. Your hands flowed in flawless harmony with the rhythm, pouring your soul into the music. And with the final notes, you laughed breathlessly, basking in the afterglow of your musical outpouring.

But your blissful moment was cruelly interrupted as you suddenly sensed you weren’t alone. Your eyes snapped open, and a cold wave of fear washed over you.

“Shit! I am so sorry,” you stammered, your voice trailing off in a rush of apologies as you gingerly lowered the piano fallboard.

“You know,” Rafe’s words were laced with honey, each syllable slow and sweet, yet there was no mistaking the menacing undertone to them. “We don’t take kindly to people touching our things,” he drawled, his intense gaze locked onto yours, a warning glimmer lurking within his dark eyes.

“I… I had permission from your dad,” you insisted, your words barely audible above a whisper as you tried to defend your actions.

His response was a dismissive chuckle. The atmosphere was taut with tension as he nonchalantly propped his golf bag against the wall. Leisurely slow, he sauntered over to you, his hands casually tucked away in his pockets.

“What were you playing anyway?” he inquired, his tone deceptively relaxed.

“You mean the name of the piece?” you swallowed hard, fear palpable. “It’s called Nocturne in C-sharp Minor.”

The tall blonde squinted at you, and you could not decipher his expression. Wanting to avoid further irritation, you slowly rose from the piano bench and dusted it off.

“What kinda name is that?”

“I… I…” you stammered, blood surging in your ears from fear as Rafe suddenly leaned in and lifted the fallboard. He scanned the keys, perhaps checking for any scratches. You took a deep breath. The scent of his expensive cologne and freshly mown grass overwhelmed your senses.

“I don’t know. It worked for Chopin, I guess.” You said quietly.

“Chopin…” he said with his lip jutted.

“He’s the composer. He wrote it and-”

“I know Chopin,” Rafe interrupted, his eyes suddenly locked on you. Up close, you could not deny that they were a striking shade of blue, if not for the death glare he gave you. “Chopin, Beethoven, Einaudi, Bach…” He backed away and sat in a nearby chair. “Brahms… I’ve been to enough of those long-ass concerts to at least know their names.”

You felt a confusing mix of awe and jealousy as you listened to Rafe’s words. The pit in your stomach proved this. You had never been to a proper symphony concert, and the school concerts you had attended were barely amateur. The thought of your dad’s broken promise to take you to one was a constant source of frustration. However, Rafe’s casual disdain for the very concerts he was lucky enough to attend seemed to be a new addition.

“Well… I’m not getting paid to mess around on your piano,” you said with a wry smile, as you tried to mask your emotions.

“You’re right. You’re not,” Rafe retorted while he twisted the gold signet ring around his index finger with his thumb. Head tilted to the side, his eyes raked over every inch of you, from your hair, your oversized sweatshirt and jeans to your worn knockoff Converses. You felt self-conscious under his intense scrutiny. He made you want to crawl into a hole and hide.

“I… I should check on Wheezie,” you whispered, eager to escape the tension in the room.

“Why?” Rafe asked, halting his twirling of the signet ring. His face appeared bemused until a sly grin tugged at his lips. “Weeze is a big girl, right? Might as well… play Chopin while she’s doing her own thing…”

As you babysat for the Camerons, you occasionally spotted Rafe in the vicinity. Sometimes, he was accompanied by a striking beauty, while other times he hung out with his friends. Even when he was alone, his body language was a clear warning: "Keep your distance." His piercing gaze made you feel diminutive and unimportant, as if any attempts at interaction would be met with cold indifference. In his presence, you felt like you were navigating hostile terrain, just a misstep away from a precarious situation.

"Well?" he said, leaning back in his chair and tapping his lower lip with a finger. The gesture seemed to carry a message, but what message you weren't sure. What was certain was that his expression of amusement made it evident that the outcome was secondary—he was simply enjoying watching you squirm.

Your tongue darted out to moisten your parched lips, while anxiety twisted in your gut as you stared nervously at the grand Steinway piano and Rafe. The weight of his words lingered in the air, causing you to hesitate and consider the potential consequences of your answer.

Every which way you looked at it, you were fucked.

Rafe was bound to tell his parents, and you were sure enough about to lose your job once they found out. Despite Mr. Cameron's outward kindness and willingness to accommodate, you knew very well that playing their piano without supervision was not within the bounds of your permission. And he certainly would not appreciate you lying about it either.

Still, you were determined to make the most out of a shitty situation. You weren't trying to prove anything to Rafe, but if this was going to be your last time playing a Steinway, you would go out in style.

You had chosen a haunting, evocative melody,  a tale of lost love and longing. The notes rang out, clear and true, as your fingers danced over the keys. 

Closing your eyes and shutting out the world and Rafe, you allowed the music to flow from your fingertips, guided by instinct and emotion. Your touch was delicate yet confident, breathing life into the haunting melody.

After the last notes of the piece hung in the air like a delicate mist. You held your breath, waiting for some kind of response from Rafe, but all you got was a deafening silence. The room felt like it was closing in on you, and you couldn't help but cast a quick glance in his direction.

Rafe's eyes bored into yours with an intensity that made your heart stop. You shifted uncomfortably, feeling exposed under his scrutinizing gaze. When you finally lowered the fallboard, the tension was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife.

"I should check on Wheezie," you whispered, breaking the silence.

Rafe made no reply, and you took that as permission to leave. When you returned downstairs a half hour later, Rafe was nowhere to be seen and you sighed in relief.

In the best-case scenario, Rafe would keep your little transgression to himself. In the worst-case scenario, you could explain to Mr. Cameron that curiosity got the better of you and seek his forgiveness. Either way, you vowed never to touch their piano again.

"What's on your setlist today, piano girl?" Rafe's voice caused your heart to skip a beat, and you nearly spewed out the orange juice pooling in your mouth. A mere week had passed since your previous babysitting job at the illustrious Cameron residence. Yet here you were once again, feeling a pang of anxiety at the mere sight of him. You had desperately hoped to avoid any interaction with Rafe for the remainder of your shift, but fate had other plans in store.

There he was, sauntering into the kitchen, sporting an obnoxiously bright salmon polo shirt that clashed horribly with his teal shorts, and finished with a backwards baseball cap. Despite his frat boy appearance, you couldn't help but admit that he looked undeniably handsome. The realization hit you like a brick and left you feeling inexplicably uneasy.

"Excuse me?" you sputtered, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Rafe's gaze shifted towards the living room, where the Steinway was waiting behind closed doors.

"No, I don't think it's a good idea," you said, your voice trailing off as you watched Rafe roll his eyes.

"Whatever," he drawled with a dismissive flick of his wrist, exuding an air of nonchalant superiority as he strode out of the kitchen.

You parroted his words under your breath, feeling frustration boil inside you. Despite his insufferable demeanor, you chose to let it slide. After all, you needed this job, and with a week of smooth sailing under your belt, you suspected that Rafe had kept your little piano incident under wraps. You weren't about to jeopardize your livelihood over a petty disagreement with Rafe Cameron of all people.

Just as you were considering taking refuge in the kitchen to avoid Rafe, the sound of a key being struck on the Steinway echoed through the kitchen, beckoning you towards it.

You stepped into the living room, a bundle of nerves and anticipation, only to find Rafe sprawled in the same chair as before. The piano's fallboard was already raised. Its ebony and ivory keys gleamed in the warm light of the setting sun. Rafe's piercing gaze locked onto yours, then flicked towards the piano.

"Do you want me to play something?" you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Rafe shrugged, looking uninterested. "Do you want to?" he asked, his voice dripping with boredom.

"I don't mind, I guess," you replied, chewing your bottom lip.

If you were to be completely honest with yourself, you were desperate for another chance to play the Steinway. There was a piece that you couldn't get out of your head, and you knew it would sound magnificent on it. You did not need to be asked twice. But at the same time, you were no fool.

You had heard whispers about the "Kook King." Infamous for settling disputes with his fists, not for acts of kindness. You had no idea what was taking place here or why Rafe was suddenly allowing you to play the Camerons' prized possession. But despite your internal warning bells that this could be a trap, you put your glass of orange juice on the floor next to the bench. Consequences be damned.

Taking a confident breath, you aimed to kill.

As you hit the final notes of the composition, the silence was shattered by Rafe's ragged breaths. Your eyes locked onto his, and you saw a flicker of something in his gaze that was gone as quickly as it appeared.

"I've been working on that one for a while," you said, trying to sound nonchalant despite his stare. "I know it's not perfect, but I-"

"No, it's good," Rafe interjected with a croak. "You're good."

His words validated your talent, and a rush of excitement surged through you, causing a grin to spread across your face as you basked in his praise. But the moment was short-lived as Rafe pulled out his phone and started scrolling, his demeanor shifting from impressed to cold indifference. Without warning, he abruptly rose from his seat, an air of superiority emanating from his towering frame.

"Tell Rose I'm having dinner at Top's," he drawled, his voice dripping with aloofness as he looked down his nose at you.

"Sure, okay," you stammered, still reeling from his sudden change in behavior.

Without another glance in your direction, he strode out of the room, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.

It became routine. A ritual. Embedded in your weekly visits to the Cameron residence.

Each time you babysat Wheezie, the air would fill with the soothing sound of classical music, as you took your place at the Steinway and brought the keys to life. Rafe, either in the background or seated nearby, listened intently. His brooding demeanor was a stark contrast to the beauty of the music.

As the weeks went by, playing the Steinway became a treasured routine, and it wasn't just the music that captivated you. With every note played, the invisible barrier between you and Rafe seemed to thin. Despite his reserved exterior, there was a subtle shift in the room when he was around, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him until one evening, a simple question from him sparked a conversation that would change everything.

"Where did you even learn to play like that?" Rafe asked as the sun cast its final rays of light into the opulent living room, painting the space with a breathtaking array of orange, pink, and purple hues.

You had just finished playing a piece by Bach. The air was still thick with the lingering notes of the Prelude as you closed the Steinway lid.

"There's barely electricity on the cut. Far less for piano classes, and even if there was, you can't—you can't teach this, know what I mean? Well, not the way you play it anyway." His tone shifted, taking on a new quality of—dare you think it?—admiration. You couldn't help but wonder if the beer he was drinking had anything to do with his slip of the tongue and the emotions that seemed to seep through in his words.

You cast your eyes to find Rafe leaning forward in his chair, said beer bottle in hand, his hair falling into his face and his eyes laser-focused on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that made you feel like you were being seen, truly seen, by him. But as much as you were flattered by his attention, something lurking in the depths of his gaze made you feel uneasy, and you weren't entirely sure why. You brushed the stray thought aside.

"My dad taught me." You said with pride in your voice. "Did you know they used to have jazz nights at the Wreck?" You turned your body towards Rafe, eager to share this piece of history. "Back then, it wasn't called the Wreck. Anyway, my dad used to play there every night from seven until midnight until the Carreras took over. Now he works on the big oil rig in Burnsville."

"Does he still play?" Rafe asked.

You hesitated for a moment, realizing you were oversharing with Rafe Cameron of all people. But something about his presence made you feel comfortable enough to continue. "No, after my mom left," you trailed off, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "He just gave up on music altogether."

Rafe looked down, his expression unreadable.

"I guess I'm trying to keep the tradition alive, in my own way. It's not jazz, but he approves." You smiled softly. "Anyway, what about you?"

Arresting blue eyes flicked up at yours, and your stomach flipped.

"What about me?" he asked, his voice low and husky, dripping with curiosity and challenge. He leaned back in his chair, the rattan creaking beneath him. He lazily ran a hand through his blonde hair, revealing his chiselled features. You weren't sure why, but the gesture felt calculated. As though it was meant to entice you. And yet you couldn't help but feel a flutter in your chest as you drank in the sight of him.

"No offense, but you don't look like the type to be into..." you waved your hand towards the piano, trying to deflect his gaze and lighten the mood.

"Yeah? What do I look like I'm into?" Rafe purred seductively, his tongue swiping his top lip. His eyes fixed on you. You didn't miss his tone. The double entendre just beneath the surface, if you were bold enough to respond to it. You were sure the alcohol running through his veins had something to do with his sudden flirty behavior. Tomorrow, he'd probably forget the whole thing. But it still didn't stop the butterflies from dancing in your stomach.

"I...I..."

"Go on, don't be shy," Rafe coaxed, his eyes dark and intense, almost daring you to take the bait.

"I don't know," you breathed out a laugh, suddenly feeling flustered and self-conscious.

"Yeah, you do." Rafe said, his tone low and teasing. "Saying I don't look like the type means you have a type in your head. So, let's hear it. What kind of man do you think I am, Y/N?"

You were certain this was not about music anymore, and you felt way out of your element. What were you supposed to say about that? You decided to keep the conversation neutral and err on the side of caution.

"Okay," you nodded as you shifted on the bench. "You look like the type to be interested in other types of music, you know like rap or hip-hop, rock— even country and western, anything but this."

Rafe looked away with a chuckle, a deep rumble that made your skin tingle. He nodded slowly, pondering your words.

"Does that sound bad? I know it sounds awful. I'm sorry." You cringed.

"Nah, it's pretty tame actually... innocent even..." Rafe murmured more to himself than to you. You shivered as his piercing blue gaze met yours, then slowly traveled down to your lips, neck, and every inch of your oversized t-shirt and cardigan to your jeans-covered body.

He cleared his throat, his voice low as he spoke. "And you're not wrong. Classical music was my mom's thing. She loved it." He said taking a swig of his beer.

"Oh," you breathed out, taken aback by the unexpected answer. Suddenly, the pieces of the puzzle started to fall into place. Why Rafe was always so engrossed in the music each time you played. The wistful expression that crossed his face whenever he heard familiar pieces of music. It was like a window into his soul, a glimpse into a hidden part of him that he kept from the world. And just as you pieced together your thoughts, Rafe spoke, confirming your suspicions.

"We used to go to the mainland to see 'The Four Seasons' or 'Carmen' or some other shit like that. I don't know, it reminds me of her, I guess. Takes me back to happier times." Rafe shrugged, a hint of sadness in his eyes as he sipped his beer.

"I'm sorry..." you whispered.

"Nah, don't be. She was sick for a long time, and now she's... Anyway, It's all good now." Rafe replied with a forced nonchalance, a fragile façade attempting to conceal his true emotions.

"So, you listen to classical music for nostalgia..." you whispered, your voice tinged with a touch of melancholy.

“I guess you could say that,” Rafe said thoughtfully, tilting his head from side to side as he considered your words. He scrunched up his face, eyebrows drawn together as if he had tasted something bitter. “But I'm not a classical music aficionado or anything. It’s not like I’m requesting it in the club. Can you imagine that shit? Right after 21 Savage fuckin’ Mozart on blast. I’d get jumped.”

"I don’t know, you might start a trend," you smiled.

“Sounds like you want me to get jumped”

You outright laughed at that one. “Well, it depends, do you deserve it?”

“Oof” Rafe countered, clutching his chest faux wounded. “That was good.”

You shrugged with a smile, feeling an unexpected kinship with Rafe of all people. Here was this tough, brooding guy who, beneath the surface, was incredibly sentimental and even had a sense of humor. It was a sweet and surprising discovery.

"What about you? Why do you play?" He asked, his blue eyes roaming across your facial features slowly, curiously, when your laughter had died and all that was left was contented silence.

"Good question. Why do I play? Well, I guess for me... it's about the emotion," you replied, your fingers tracing the Steinway keys without pressing them. "Each note, each chord, each composition tells a story. It's like I'm a part of that story, and I get to bring it to life. You don’t need words you just… feel it.”

Rafe nodded, understanding. "I get it. You're the storyteller. The piano is your instrument channelin’ that shit.”

"Exactly!" you said, touching your nose and pointing to him with an earnest laugh.

"Exactly," Rafe repeated with a soft chuckle, his gaze fixated on you.

“Hey, how come I never see you at bonfires?” Rafe asked, a mischievous glint in his eye one sunny afternoon when Rose and Mr. Cameron went out for drinks with friends, leaving Wheezie in your care.

“Bonfires just aren’t my thing,” you replied with a shrug.

“What, no friends to hang out with?” he teased.

“I have plenty of friends!” you retorted, a hint of a smirk playing at your lips.

“Friends that I’ve never seen you with,” he pressed.

 “What do you mean ‘friends I’ve never seen you with’ are you stalking me around town?” 

“Maybe I am...” he shrugged a small devious smile curled his lips. “Whatever. Well, my friends and I clearly hang out when you’re not around,” you shot back, a playful smile lighting up your face.

“Sure you do,” he drawled, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

Rafe leaned forward against the piano, the sun casting a warm glow on his handsome features. You couldn’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed, and how the muscles in his arms flexed under his t-shirt while he absentmindedly tapped his index finger on the piano lid.

“You know, there’s more to life than playing music,” Rafe said, his voice low and smooth, as he turned the words over with his tongue. His finger tapping the lid, became slower, more measured.

“Oh, I know that,” you replied, rolling your eyes. “I have plenty of other things going on.”

“Yeah? Like what?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Like studying,” you said, trying to keep a straight face as Rafe scoffed and rolled his eyes. “I’m actually quite serious about my grades.”

"I wouldn't expect anything less from a good girl," Rafe chuckled. Once again, his comment caught you off guard. Although you knew he wasn't mocking you, it still felt strange that he felt the need to mention what he perceived was good girl behavior. “Seriously though, you should have some real fun too. Do some shit you probably shouldn’t do. Life’s too short to be cooped up not living it.”

You shrugged, unsure of what to say. Rafe had a point, but you weren’t sure if bonfires were the kind of fun you were looking for. Still, there was something about the way he looked at you that made your heart skip a beat, and you couldn’t help but swallow nervously. As if reading your thoughts, Rafe leaned closer.

“You know, I could show you a good time if you want.” Rafe’s voice was low and husky as he leaned in close, his minty breath fanning your cheek. While he had flirted before, this time there was a sober earnestness to his words that made your heart race. But before you could even formulate a response, the front door's slam cut through the thick tension.

Rafe straightened himself, briefly glancing towards the hallway before fixing his gaze back on you, his jaw tightly clenched in irritation. With determined strides, he purposefully walked away, the sound of his long steps resonating down the corridor, while you unintentionally caught snippets of his familiar argument with Sarah.

It seemed Sarah had developed an interest in John B, a guy you had seen around town, but Rafe vehemently disapproved due to his “pogue” status. You couldn’t fathom why he held such strong opposition, especially considering that you, too, were a Pogue. Had he conveniently forgotten? Or did he consider you an exception?

As you closed the lid of the Steinway, an inescapable curiosity filled your mind about what set your relationship with Rafe apart. Maybe he only saw you as a friend rather than a romantic interest the way Sarah felt about John B.

Reluctant to admit it to yourself, the thought pierced through, leaving you with a confusing mixture of disappointment, anger, and self-annoyance for even entertaining the idea that Rafe could ever feel that way about you.

As Rafe persisted in berating his sister, you dismissed any contemplation of what might have happened between the two of you if she had arrived just a few minutes later.

“Hello?”

“I'm in here.” Rose’s voice, sharp as a razor’s edge, resonated through the foyer of the Camerons’ residence. As you entered the kitchen, you discovered her gingerly picking up the remnants of a shattered vase from the tiled floor. You offered to help her, but she brushed you off with a dismissive gesture.

“No need, honey. I wouldn’t want you getting hurt.” She said, smiling unconvincingly.

Mr. Cameron burst into the room a few seconds later. His dominating presence charged the atmosphere, his eyes glinting like ice. It was only when his eyes landed on you that his demeanour changed.

“Oh, Y/N. Thanks for coming on such short notice. We’ll only need you for two hours. Sarah should be back by then.” He smiled, though it did not reach his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Of course.” You replied. You scurried out of his path as he snatched a file and car keys from the kitchen table.

“I’ll be in the car.” He informed Rose tersely, eliciting a stiff nod from her.

Feeling Rose’s disquiet, you intervened to clear the shattered vase. “I can pick these up for you, Rose.” You said warmly.

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.” You assured her with a nod.

“Thank you.” She murmured, her smile returning. “Wheeze is upstairs doing her homework. I’m sorry about all of this. Things are a bit crazy today.” She said, her grip on her bag and sunglasses tightening as if she were holding onto her sanity by a thread. And with that, she vanished, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the shattered pieces of the vase.

Having cleared the wreckage, you climbed the stairs to find Wheezie immersed in her studies in her room, her headphones firmly in place. You inquired if she needed anything or was okay, but she appeared blissfully unaware of the chaos that had unfolded. You marvelled at her ability to concentrate amidst the turmoil, yet you couldn’t dispel the nagging suspicion that the Camerons hid a dark secret beneath their façade of rich superiority. With a sigh, you left Wheezie to her schoolwork and descended the stairs as the sound of the living room door being opened roused your suspicions.

As you passed the living room, your heart sank at the sight of Rafe. He was sitting on his usual chair, swaying back and forth, lost in a jumble of incoherent words. His eyes were bloodshot and streaked with tears. You hurried towards him, your mind racing with worry and fear. You sat down on the floor in front of him, your heart pounding in your chest.

“What happened? Are you okay?”

He responded with a roar that shook you to your core. The words that spilled out of Rafe’s mouth were like knives, cutting deep into your soul. He berated himself with a ferocity that was frightening, how he was a failure in his father’s eyes, how he was nothing but a disappointment. You placed a comforting hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze, trying to offer some solace amidst his torment.

His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face, as if seeing you for the first time. Rafe’s jaw tightened, his eyes raw with emotions you couldn’t decipher. There was anger there, yes, but there was something else too – something deeper, more primal.

“Play something.” He suddenly demanded.

“I can- I can get someone for you. Do you want me to call your-”

“No. I don’t want that. I want you to play.” He almost sneered at you.

“Okay.” You whispered tentatively.

You made your way to the piano, your fingers trembling with anticipation. As you began to play, the haunting melody flowed from your fingertips.

As the tender notes from the piano enveloped you, the outside world ceased to exist. Within the protective cocoon of the Cameron's living room, you hoped your music might be a balm for Rafe’s pain. But this sanctuary of sound was violently shattered when an aggressive tug at your hair ripped you from your reverie.

Suddenly, Rafe was there, his fingers cruelly ensnared in your hair, exerting a force so savage it wrenched your head backward, choking off your breath and stilling the music in one brutal tug. The once harmonious room was now charged with an electrifying tension, your eyes captured and held hostage by the ferocity in his.

This was not the Rafe you knew.

The Rafe towering above you appeared utterly transformed. Unrecognizable in every way. Gone was the Rafe who had shared countless evenings filled with laughter and sharing stories. Gone was the anchor that made you feel connected and safe.

Instead, frustration etched itself onto his face like a battle scar, while his dilated pupils revealed an intensity you had never witnessed before, oscillating between your fear-stricken eyes.

His gaze dipped to your parted lips as you let out the breath you were holding, and before you could react, before you could appease him, Rafe captured your lips with his.

You froze. Paralyzed against Rafe's lips. Shock stole your breath away.

Time stopped in an instant as you grappled with the thought that this was a dream, a surreal nightmare. But that fragile notion shattered like glass as Rafe's movements became evident. His lips melded against yours like clay taking form. Hard and desperate, his kiss abruptly catapulted you back into the chilling reality that this was, without a doubt, happening.

Your instinct for survival surged as your fight-or-flight response kicked in. You attempted to push him away, but Rafe tightened his grip on your hair and yanked harder, forcing your submission, his tongue plunging into your mouth when you whined in protest.

The taste of alcohol on Rafe’s tongue was bitter and overwhelming. You tried to convince yourself that this was the reason behind Rafe's behaviour. Any moment now, he would realize his mistake, any moment he would let you go. But instead, Rafe's fingers sank into the hollow of your jaw, holding it open while his tongue explored the warm interior of your mouth.

You whimpered softly as his tongue twirled against yours with ferocity. Rafe adjusted his hand in your hair and gripped tighter, making you cry out as pain surged through your scalp and neck. The sound didn't deter him, as he forced your head back drinking from your mouth greedily.

Discordant notes rang out as you lashed out wildly, reaching for anything you could hold onto for balance. Your hands found Rafe's bicep and you dug your nails into his skin, trying to pull his hand away as he kissed you like a man possessed.

Your entire body was inflamed with sensations you had never experienced before as pleasure and pain bled into one. Your scalp ached yet your body felt hot. Your nipples were suddenly sensitive to your sweater's scraggly wool while you ached between your legs for something you had not experienced before. The whirlwind of sensations new and overwhelming within you made your eyes flutter shut on their own, your hands sliding up Rafe's wrist as you held on for balance.

Rafe's mouth worked over yours with an intensity so raw that your protests turned into breathless moans and frantic gasps as you succumbed to his kiss.  Your tongue tentatively meets his stroke for stroke.  Rafe growled in approval and you could feel him smile into the kiss, his tongue stoking the fire deep within you and just as quickly as it started, Rafe abruptly pulled away leaving you shaking and struggling for air.

Your heart raced within your chest as you abruptly pushed yourself off the piano bench, nearly causing it to tip over in your haste. Hand clutching your chest, you struggled to catch your breath, hastily wiping away tears that had unknowingly streamed down your cheeks. 

A fleeting glance at Rafe revealed his heavy breathing, his mouth agape in quick, shallow pants, and his pupils dilated, tinged with a faint hint of blue. Yet, it was the expression etched upon his face that sent a wave of terror crashing over you. 

Rafe's eyes showed no remorse.

Instead, you saw an overwhelming hunger within them that made your blood run cold. Rafe’s gaze moved down from your stunned face over your trembling body.  The danger that emanated from him made your knees buckle.

You took a step back, your mind whirling with fear and apprehension. But Rafe stepped forward, his eyes locked onto yours with determination.

"I-- I need to check on Wheezie. See what she'd like for dinner," you whispered, your voice shaking as you inched backwards toward the door. You turned to run but it was too late.

Rafe reached out and snatched the hem of your sweater, yanking you towards him. You struggled to break free, twisting and thrashing like a scared kitten in his grip but Rafe was relentless. His other hand reached for your waist as he pulled you close.  His nose and lips trailed the back of your neck and into your hairline and he groaned as he breathed you in. With a jab of your elbow into his rib you wriggled free.  It wasn't enough to wound him but it gave you the head start needed to run.

You dashed from the room, Rafe's pursuit relentless. His outstretched fingers grazed your sweater, narrowly missing its mark. It wasn't until you sprinted up the stairs that he abandoned the chase. You didn't need to glance back to feel his gaze on you.  The tendrils of his breathless laugh reverberated down the corridor.

You burst into Wheezie's room, a hot mess of tears and fear. You made up some excuse about feeling unwell and had to go home immediately. After calling Rose and arranging for a replacement babysitter for Wheezie, you sat in her room and waited for the sitter to arrive.

You didn't see Rafe when you left, and you thanked God for that. You knew that if you saw him, you would break down crying, and you couldn't bear to show him any more weakness. But the tears came anyways, hot and heavy, as soon as you got home. How could you have been so stupid? You knew all the rumors about him, knew that he wasn't a good guy, and yet somehow, you thought in your warped mind that he was different. A decent human being who was simply misunderstood.

It wasn't like you didn't see the signs. They were always there, staring you right in the face. The blatant flirting, the staring, the way he undressed you with his gaze. You dismissed every red flag, thinking he couldn't like you in that kind of way because you were not the type of girl Rafe Cameron would go for and you certainly weren't the type of girl Rafe Cameron would kiss.

And it wasn't just the kiss that scared you. It was the fact that Rafe had no intention of stopping. It was the way he held onto you, the way he made you feel like you were drowning in a sea of desire. He was a predator, relentless in his pursuit of you, and as you thought about how he grabbed onto your clothes his lips tracing your neck even as you protested you couldn't help but cry even harder.

No. There was no way you were setting foot in that house again. Not after the way Rafe kissed you, not after what he was determined to get out of you.

Over the next few weeks, Rose's texts kept coming, each one more insistent than the last. But you knew better than to give in to her demands. You couldn't go back to that house, not after what had happened with Rafe. It was too dangerous, too risky, and you couldn't afford to let your guard down again.

You thought about telling her what had happened with Rafe, but the thought of it made your stomach turn. How could you explain what had happened without sounding like a fool? That you had been hanging out with her stepson for months, that you had let things get out of hand?

You had every intention of never setting foot in that house again. But then Rose sent you a text, asking if you were available on Saturday. They were desperate, she said, and willing to offer triple what they usually paid. Rafe and Sarah were going to a game and the lady who was supposed to look after Wheezie had a family emergency.

You were going to turn them down, again, but the truth was that since you had dropped them as a client, it had been difficult to find other work. So, against your better judgement, you agreed, but only after Rose confirmed that she and Mr Cameron would be home long before Sarah and Rafe returned.

As the day of the babysitting gig approached, a sense of foreboding settled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that you shouldn't go, that it was too risky, too dangerous. But the promise of easy money was too tempting to ignore. And so, against your better judgement, you found yourself standing in front of the Cameron's house once again, your heart racing with a mix of fear and anticipation.

As you approached the front door, you couldn't help but feel a sense of unease. Rose had texted you on your way over, telling you that she would be getting ready and to let yourself in. But when you rang the doorbell and received no answer, you began to worry. Still, you didn't think anything of it when you turned the door handle and found that it was unlocked. You stepped inside and called out for Wheezie and Rose, but the house was silent.

Making your way to the kitchen, you put down your bag and pulled out your phone. You texted Rose and Wheezie to let them know that you had arrived and were in the kitchen, just in case Wheezie was plugged in. But as you waited for a response, your heart sank.

Something wasn't right. You could feel it.

You had been to the Camerons' house many times and had let yourself in on a few occasions when they were too busy to answer the door. None of this was new but it felt different. An ominous feeling washed over you. But just as you began to worry, the sound of footsteps in the hallway interrupted your thoughts, and you sighed in relief.

As you called out for Rose, a sudden hush fell over the room, broken only by the sound of footsteps approaching. You looked up, hoping to see Rose's familiar figure, but instead, your eyes met the last person you expected to see: Rafe.

His presence was jarring, like a thunderclap on a clear day. Your heart pounded in your chest as you tried to make sense of his unexpected appearance. But before you could utter a word, Rafe's murmur cut through the silence like a knife.

"Nah, not Rose," he said with a smile.

Fear took hold of you as you realized that he must have had something to do with Rose's texts in the first place. You stepped back, fear making your knees buckle.

"Where's Rose?" you whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself protectively, as if shielding yourself from him.

“Don’t worry about it,” he drawled, his voice low and dangerous.

“Don’t come near me,” you said firmly as Rafe rounded the kitchen island towards you. Immediately, you moved in the opposite direction away from him.

“I… I just… I needed to talk to you, like, a little bit. Is that okay?” he said, opening his hands to placate you.

“Did Rose actually text me?”

“She did,” Rafe soothed. “But then I, uh… I heard you’d be here tonight instead of Pat, and well… seeing you was more important to me than some game.” His eyes trailed over your face, studying your every reaction.

“Where’s Wheezie?”

“With Sarah.”

You shook your head, your mind reeling with disbelief. How could Rafe have orchestrated this situation for you to be alone with him without any of the Camerons noticing? But as if he heard your thoughts, a sly smile curled his lips and he chuckled softly.

“I told Rose I’d watch over Wheeze so she could catch an early ferry,” Rafe explained, his hands moving in slow, deliberate gestures, connecting invisible dots as he spoke. “After Rose left I gave my ticket to Wheeze.”

You felt like you were going to be sick.

“Look, I know the last time I was a little… a little intense…”

“Intense!” You choked. You would have laughed if the whole thing wasn’t so heartbreaking.

“Yes, and I’m -- I'm really sorry about that, okay? I really am.”

"You tried to ra-”

"No! No, no, I would never..." Rafe rushed towards you and you immediately backed away. He froze mid-step as you cowered, his hands still raised in surrender.  "I’m sorry things were confusing and it looked that way but I wasn't trying to hurt you. God, I- l’m-" Rafe sighed, deflated his hands landed on his hips, he looked away as he pressed his tongue on the inside of his cheek.

"You're sorry it looked that way?" you whispered your voice trembling. Rafe's words echoed in your mind while memories of that day in all its menacing glory flooded back. You looked at him flabbergasted.

"Rafe...you... you were kissing me-”

“I know but I-”

“And touching me--"

He breathed out a laugh "Come on, you know I was only-,"

“Without my consent, Rafe.”

He was silent with that and you hoped your words had finally sunk in, had finally made him understand how terrifying he was in that moment.

“Then you chased me.  You chased me like some...” you couldn’t even finish the sentence.  You didn’t know how to finish the sentence.  You were so hurt and confused.  That your friend could do something like that to you. “I don’t even know who you are. I- I don’t think I ever did,” you whispered.

Rafe's eyes landed on yours with that. His gaze was dark and intense, and for a moment, you thought you had gotten through to him because he nodded slowly. But then he let out a humourless chuckle, reminding you of the one he gave post-chase, and any hope of reaching him dissipated.

"You know, it’s funny ‘cause you say that...” Rafe said coldly, a hand gesturing to you as if trying to grasp his own thoughts “But you’re not entirely innocent in all of this, are you?” 

“I don't-- I don't understand."

“Do you have any idea what you're doing to me, huh, Y/N?

"Raf—"

"What kind of mental shit you put me through? Nah, you don't. You don't think about that, do you?" he asked, his hands gesturing toward you as his eyes narrowed and he stared you down. You felt a shiver run down your spine as you realized the gravity of Rafe's words. It was as if he was confessing to a darker truth, a mental anguish that he had been helplessly consumed by, something unintentionally sparked within him by your actions.

"I have my dad on my back talking about legacies, our family business and preparing me for that shit meanwhile Sarah’s running around town doing god knows what with some loser fucking up our family name. I have real shit to deal with...” he gave out a bitter laugh his hand clutched to his chest as he confessed.

“But even with all of that all I can think about every minute of every fucking day, is you.” Rafe's voice was raw and anguished. His hand moved up to his ear as he slowly walked towards you.

"It's like you've crawled into my brain, you know? Like I’m under some fucking spell with your music and your voice and your-" His eyes trailed down your body just as his hand followed the motion, and you shuddered. He was consuming you with his gaze every sinful thought etched across his features.

"Nah, you made me do this…” he said bitterly, his jaw clenched tight.

“Rafe--”

“You did and now I'm the bad guy because I had a moment of weakness. But you know what? Fuck, it.” he shrugged nonchalantly. “Fuck it, i’ll take responsibility for my part in this--”

“Rafe--”

“That’s what real men do, right? Take responsibility for their shit and I’m all about being accountable, so yeah, I kissed you.” He said nodding slowly. “But I’m not sorry.”

His words made you recoil, disbelief etched across your face as you stared at him.

“Yeah, you want me to pretend like I am. Act apologetic but I won’t. I'm not sorry and you should quit actin’ like you didn't enjoy it."

His words were like a punch to the gut, and you could feel the weight of his accusation settling in your stomach. Stunned, you opened your mouth to protest, but no words came out. A dry, humorless laugh left you instead. Rafe simply nodded slyly as he resumed his steps towards you, and as you stepped backwards, your back collided with the kitchen counter.

“That’s- that’s not true.”

“No?” he asked faux confused.

“It’s not- that’s not fair”

“Isn’t it?” he tutted.

"Rafe, listen to me," you whispered shakily, but he was already leaning in, his eyes dark and clouded.

"No. No, no, you listen.”  he rasped, circling in and looking down on you, his lips pouted as he leaned into the shell of your ear, “You were moaning Y/N- No, don’t do that.  Don’t shake your head, and act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don't stand there and pretend this whole fucking thing is one-sided. You were moaning into my mouth… and you...you held on to me, yeah? I didn’t force you to do those things."

"Rafe--”

“That was all you princess. So you gotta ask yourself. What kinda girl are you to be into that, hm?” Rafe whispered as he leaned into you.  “What kinda girl would moan like a whore when a guy manhandles her…”

“I didn’t- I wasn’t. I wanted you to stop Rafe and you-”

Rafe chuckled before you could even finish your sentence.

“Is that what was happening while you were kissing me back? Nah, see I know what your problem is. I know, I know, I know…” he repeated softly, as he gently rested his hands on your hips. “I know why you ran when deep down you wanted it.”

You opened your mouth to protest only for Rafe to push his body up against yours.  The hard wall of his body renders you speechless. “We eye fucked each other for months,”  he whispered, as he looked down at you.  His eyes darted to your lips as he licked his own.  “You wanted it.” He said coldly.

"But I get it. It was overwhelming... too much... too soon... hm?" he murmured as his nose grazed yours. "I should have approached you more patiently. I realize that now," he acknowledged with a slow nod. "I should have been gentle with you, and I had every intention to. But I -- I wanted you so bad that day that I couldn't think straight. I'm thinking straight now, though."

“Rafe...” you breathed out, your hands on his chest to push him away but not quite having the strength to do so.  Rafe must have picked up on this because he leaned in, his lips close to yours.

“You keep saying my name but you’re not telling me to stop...” Rafe whispered as his fingers caressed your cheek.  With a gentle touch, he lifted your chin, and you willingly yielded. His caress made you sway, your mind growing hazy and confused. To regain your balance, you closed your eyes.

“Why aren’t you telling me to stop, hm?” he whispered.

You could feel the electricity between you as Rafe leaned in, lips hovering over yours and you tilted your head up slightly, closing the distance, only to be met with nothing. When you opened your eyes, you were met with Rafe’s hooded ones a victorious smile creeping across his lips.  

“Come on” Rafe whispered, and before you could protest Rafe laced his fingers in yours and gently tugged you towards the living room.

Seated at the piano, Rafe smoothly lifted the fallboard with ease.

"Play something for me," he husked, gesturing for you to take a seat beside him on the bench. You felt a flutter of nervousness as you perched yourself next to him, unsure of where to start. You couldn't comprehend how you had gone from rejecting his advances to this moment of willing compliance and acceptance.

Rafe watched you intently. You had been up-close to Rafe before, but never this close. Not this intimately. Your mind became blank, overwhelmed with the prospect of playing for him.

"I...I don't know what to..." you stuttered.

"Anything, anything at all," Rafe whispered, his eyes studying your every move.

Taking a deep breath, you steadied your trembling fingers on the keys and began to release the notes,  slowly at first, but gaining confidence with every passing moment.

“I noticed you, you know,” Rafe rasped. His knuckles suddenly grazed your cheek, and you flinched. “The first time you came to babysit Wheeze, I noticed you.” Rafe followed his knuckles as he moved them across your jaw.

“I remember thinking you were beautiful… shy… innocent…” Opening his hand, his fingers trailed down your neck, and your breath hitched.

“You were wearing this exact sweater…” His fingers splayed over your collarbone as they moved slowly down to your chest.

“What are you hiding under here, hm?” he asked softly. “What are you hiding under these baggy clothes?”

You shied away from his touch, your hands withdrawing from the keys of the piano.

"No. None of that. I’ll tell you when to stop,” he said his voice stern yet soft.  Your eyes glanced at his as Rafe inched closer.  “I’ll tell you when to stop.” he iterated slowly. “Start again.”

Swallowing you placed your hands on the keys while the music resumed from your fingertips.

Rafe shifted closer his leg flushed against your own.  He wrapped his arm over the back of you and hooked it to the other side of the bench. Leaning in, his nose ghosted your neck.

“Raf-”

“Shhhh…”His nose nudged into your hairline.  His other hand on your chest continued its exploration.  It moved lower cupping your tit over your sweater.  The gasp you make made Rafe breathe even heavier, a deep pur coming from the back of his throat.

“Please-” you whispered shakily.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you, you know that?  Every time you played I’d think about what you’d feel like... what you’d look like, moaning for me.  I wanna hear you moan for me.”  

Determined Rafe’s hand moved lower until it dipped under your sweater. Deftly he fumbled under your t-shirt and you gasped when his warm fingers brushed the skin of your stomach. His other hand let go of the piano stool and was now under your sweater squeezing your tit through your bra.

“Rafe--”

“Keep playing” he whispered against your neck and you did. His hand at your stomach moved lower, finding the button on your jeans he unbutton it with one deft move and your hands falter.

“Keep playing” he murmured, face nudging into your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses to your throat.  “I wanna hear you play while I touch you”  

The sensation of Rafe's hands on your body was almost lost in the overwhelming numbness that had taken over you. His strong hand leisurely tugged at the waistband of your panties seeking to touch what lay beneath, while his other hand snaked under your bra. He caressed and teased your nipple until a soft sob erupted from you as pleasure surged through your veins.

Rafe moved his hand lower, slipping it between your wet folds and pushing his middle finger inside of you. You cried out, the intensity of sensation causing you to clutch onto Rafe's arm for support, music abandoned.

“It’s okay “ Rafe breathed deeply into your neck, as he roughly peppered your neck with kisses.  “You're okay. Just breathe...” and as he said those comforting words he gently wormed another slender finger passed your slippery folds and into you.

You hissed, trying to move away from the burning stretch of his long fingers. Your nails dug into the flesh of his wrist with enough force to draw blood but Rafe determined as ever slowly moved his fingers in and out of you, each time inserting them a little deeper until it reached his signet ring.  

"You've had more than one finger before?" he asked hotly against your neck. You shook your head no, gritting your teeth in an effort to endure him stretching you further still. Rafe groaned and nipped softly at your jawline, "Fuck, I can tell. I can barely move them. But you're a good girl, aren't you? You're taking them well and afterwards, I'm gonna train you to take all of me."

Rafe's lips trailed tender kisses down the length of your neck, then his mouth closed hungrily around the sensitive skin. His two fingers moved inside you and each slow thrust drew a soft moan from your lips.

With surety, he curled his fingers in a come-hither motion, barely grazing your clit with his thumb. The sensation was overwhelming and foreign, causing you to gasp and cum embarrassingly fast. Your pussy contracting around his fingers, milking them for all they were worth.

“Oh Fuuckk…” Rafe hissed. “You liked that, I can feel it.“ He sighed utterly mesmerised. “Well, if you like that...” Rafe groaned resting his forehead against the side of your face and planting soft kisses on your cheek. “You’re gonna love this.”

With his bottom lip caught between his teeth, Rafe's probing fingers started their relentless hunt for something deep within you. Suddenly, those searching digits found what they were looking for - a spot that caused you to arch over and clutch his hand as you cried out despite your best efforts.

“Oh- there it is” he chuckled softly, shunting his hand and hitting that spot over and over again with a speed and force that knocked the breath out of you, while his thumb expertly rubbed your clit and the fingers of his other hand mercilessly pulled and twisted your nipple.

“OhmyGOD!” you cried.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck my hand. Just like that.”

Rafe kept at it, even as your nails scraped along his wrist and arm for purchase.  Even as you screamed and tried to scissor your legs closed to shut him out. None of it mattered as your eyes crossed and you felt your orgasm raw and violent crash over you. 

Bucking violently into Rafe’s hand, you could feel your release seep through your jeans and onto the piano bench. Pooling and overflowing you could hear it trickle onto the hardwood floor like raindrops and still, Rafe kept going, kept finger fucking you.

Lost in a sea of agonising pleasure you could do nothing but slump against him and take it, your hips stuttering, your mouth sagging as you whimpered and gasped.

Rafe moaned against you, planting soft kisses on the column of your throat. He stilled his hand, his fingers buried deep inside while you desperately tried to catch your breath.

"Seems my fingers are just as talented as yours, hm?" he said with a breathless chuckle. His nose trailed along your neck, while his tongue darted out to capture the perspiration nestled there. 

Gently, Rafe removed his digits while you gazed in shock, unable to voice a single word as he brought the wet fingers to his lips and ravenously lapped up your fluids with a contented hum.

“It’s too much.” you said hoarsely  “I can’t-- I can't do this. No more, Rafe. No more,” you said weakly, trying to remove his hand from your breast and move away from his hold only for Rafe to seize your wrist painfully in his grasp.

"No more?" Rafe chuckled darkly, his gaze fixed on you with dilated pupils. "No more?" he repeated, inching closer as he shook his head. "Nah, baby. No. We're just getting started..."

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Thank you for reading.  Thanks for liking and reblogging. PART 2 / MASTERLIST

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