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#i have done nothing but this for the last three hours
zyafics · 3 days
Text
play fake | part eight
series play fake — ( masterlist )
pairing rafe cameron x female reader
summary when rafe cameron needs to secure a gf in order for his father to see him as a stable man, he enlists the help of a bartender who wants nothing to do with him.
content 18+, eventual smut, angst, fake-dating, jealousy, people-pleasing and independent! female reader, ward cameron pinning rafe and sarah against each other, rafe being an asshole
𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃𓂃 ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚ ⋆.˚
Laid out on the edge of a heavenly bed, a rustling stirs you awake.
You blink through the thinly-streamed sunlight casting into the room and adjust your vision, trying to decipher where you are.
Rafe stands in front of his closet, shirtless, searching through to find something to wear. When you lift your head off the pillow, groggy sounds escaping your lips, he turns his head. 
"Shit, did I wake you?" He asks, brows furrowed together.
"Are you going somewhere?" You respond, rubbing your eyes with the back of your hand. "Should I go home?"
Last night, after you accepted Rafe's invitation to stay over at Tannyhill, you didn't do anything other than shower, take a Plan B, and go to sleep. It was a long day and when Rafe shuffled into his sheets, you pulled yourself to the ledge of the mattress. It wasn't done out of separation, but because of an unusual habit you developed as the sole provider for your sisters. You always stay close enough to the edge that, if any problems arise in the middle of the night, you have the fastest exit.
Rafe shakes his head, rounding the bed to approach your side. He can't believe how pretty you are, even just waking up, fresh-faced with no makeup. His chest buzzes with an indescribable feeling.
"It's fine," he declares. "I'm about to head out to brunch with my dad. We have to talk through some things that happened last night."
You don't miss the grimace in his tone.
Frowning, you offer, "do you want me to come?"
Honestly, Rafe would love that. Having you by his side while he’s conversing with his father would ground him. Because he knows, if Ward Cameron sees him as incompetent and expandable, at least with you, he isn’t. 
"You have nothing to wear."
You glance down at your sleepwear, a borrowed shirt from Rafe's closet that cuts mid-thigh, and realize he's right. It wasn't like you packed an overnight bag and your only options are to reuse the gown from last night or your bartender work attire.
There is Sarah's closet but after Rafe's whole conflict with his sister returning, you'd rather not put it on the table.
"Right." You drawl, pressing your lips together while you consider alternatives. "You could drop me off at my house. I can change."
He shakes his head, concealing a rising smile at your determination to attend. "Not enough time."
"What time is it?"
"A quarter after eleven. I have to meet him there by noon."
He's right. The drive to The Cut is going to take most of that time.
"I'll be fine." Rafe declares. "I've handled him for the past twenty-three years. I can handle a few hours."
You nod, saying nothing. What could you say? You're taking Rafe's words at face value and if he believes he can go into this meeting without having another destructive conversation, then you can only believe him.
"I should go then." You throw the comforter off your body, the coldness of the morning breeze sends a shiver down your spine. Your legs drape off the ledge. "Since you won't be here."
"No." Rafe asserts suddenly, causing you to stop in your tracks. "I'll be back. Just hang out here."
He doesn't want you to leave. Whatever conversation he'll have with his father, it would either settle on a concession or a bad ending. Rafe already mentally prepared the layout of his day and he knows he'll need you after. To talk. To comfort. To be here with him.
"Alone?" You confirm, the idea is scandalous to your ears. "In your mansion? Aren't you afraid I'm going to steal something of yours?"
You're playing into Pogue stereotypes, testing if Rafe trusts you enough.
"You wouldn't." He shakes his head with confidence and you still don't have your answer.
“You don’t know that.” You challenge with a tease. “I saw some things downstairs I would like to take home. If I just swipe them when you leave…” Your voice trails off when Rafe settles in front of you, both arms pressed on either side of your hips and he levels down his face to be inches away from yours. 
"I could just buy them for you."
Your heart sputters. You stare back at him, admiring his freshly-clean look with a faint scent of aftershave. He looks handsome. His blue eyes set on you, captivating and waiting. For a brief moment, you could see yourself letting him in. 
You expel an awkward laugh. ‘Yeah, right,” you hit his shoulders, trying to create some distance between the two of you, but it doesn’t work. The touch only further the buzz within you, stirring something from the pit of your stomach. “Like I would let you.” 
"But you'd rather steal?"
You shrug, needing to look away, pretending to admire a thread you found on his sheets. "What did I tell you that day in Topper's house?"
He hazily recounts the details. The night when you came and propositioned him. Where he got into a fight with a stranger for harassing you. Where you patched him up.
"I only remember you on my lap."
You scoff, turning back to him. "Of course you would." 
You make a move to stand, but Rafe lays a hand on your hips, keeping you in place.
"What?" You ask breathlessly, despite the limited movement.
“You promised you were going to ride me.” He recalls lowly, pushing the fabric of his tee up your thighs and creating goosebumps in its wake. “You don’t have makeup on.”
Shaky breaths leave you, trying to remain in control. But you know you’re losing it with every light caress Rafe is giving you, igniting the heat between your legs. “Are you always this horny in the morning?”  
"Just for you, sweetheart."
Your mind is warping and you fumble for excuses.
"I have morning breath."
"We don't have to kiss."
"You have a meeting in less than an hour."
"We'll be quick."
With a huff, you retort. "Do you always have an answer for everything I say?"
He chuckles. "I know you now."
You're afraid he truly does.
Your lips part when his hand cups the underside of your jaw, tilting your gaze to meet his. His eyes scans over your features, reading how willing you are, and mumbles. "That's my girl."
Your skin buzzes with his praise, and Rafe goes to remove your shirt—his shirt that you’re wearing, the sight of which drives him insane—and exposing your bare tits and panties underneath. No matter how many times he sees you naked, it amazes him every time. That it’s him that gets to see you this way. That it’s him who gets to touch you. 
"Fuck." He whispers, sinking to his knees as his hands spread your legs apart. He wants nothing more than to sink in you, but he wants to please you first. Lowering, Rafe kisses the base of your knee to your inner thighs. "You're so fucking gorgeous."
It's things like this that make your head spin. Not the mind-blowing sex—no, that's a plus—but his words. The little acts. You don't know whether to trust them because mostly, he only utters them when you're intimate. You know how different it can be afterwards.
His fingers go under the band of your underwear and take them off with your assistance. 
"Such a pretty pussy." His thumb traces up and down your slit, collecting your arousal and causing you to buckle from his slow, teasing touch.
"Rafe." You warn. "The time."
He glances over his shoulders to the digital clock sitting on his dresser and turns back to you with a smirk. "How about you watch it and tell me how I'm doing?"
"You have a meeting soon."
"Baby, you really don't want to rush me." He declares, moving closer and pushing your legs onto his shoulders. His tongue lightly grazes your cunt, causing you to bite down on your bottom lip. "I wanna enjoy this."
Rafe flattens his tongue, performing languid strokes as your fingers threads through his hair. You arch into his face when he sucks on your clit, his fingers entering you in simultaneous thrusts. Your eyes flutter close from the sensation.
"You taste so good, baby, I could have you for breakfast every morning." He mumbles against your opening, the vibration of his rasps elevates the pleasure and aids you towards your climax.
When you come on his face, Rafe guides you through your release and when he pulls back, he checks the clock. "Not bad, huh?"
You shake your head softly, a dazed smile on your lips. "I bet I can do better."
"Yeah?"
You push yourself forward to remove his sweatpants, the outline of his bulge prominent, and while you tease him with light traces on his lower abdomen, the sound of a ringtone interrupts you.
Rafe moves over to the dresser where his phone sits and answers the call from his father. "Yeah?" He greets, listening to what Ward has to say. "You said twelve."
Another exchange is made before Rafe ends, and when he does, he rolls his eyes, agitation evident on his features. "I have to go. My dad is moving up the time."
You smother the aching disappointment and nod. "Okay," you say, picking up your panties from the floor and sliding them over your hips. You glance over to the door, contemplating your own exit. He notices. 
"I'll be back, alright?" Rafe reaffirms, coming over to plant a gentle kiss on your temple and your body leans into his touch. "Just stay."
While you wait for Rafe to explain, you take a tour around the estate. Midway through your exploration of family portraits and expensive winery around the kitchen, you receive a phone call from the babysitter. 
"Hello?" You answer, while the babysitter is scrambling to produce coherent words. "Wait, wait, slow down. What's going on?"
She doesn't explain much, informing you to get home immediately and hangs up. Your heart sputters by the sudden disconnect and you race to Rafe's bedroom to collect your things before ordering a rideshare. When you hop in, your leg restlessly taps on the floor of the car while you check the battery on your phone.
You're imagining the worst possible scenarios. Something happened to your sisters. They got injured. One of them is in the hospital. The other is missing. Or, somehow, the house caught on fire and now, you're homeless.
When you reached your destination, the car didn't halt to a full stop before you hopped out, running down the driveway to the familiar, unscathed house. That calms your mind for a moment.
Before you realize it's something much worse.
"Aaron." You murmur, shoulders tense as your eyes widen, recognizing the tall dark-haired man standing in front of your door, talking to the babysitter who's blocking the entryway. He turns his head at your arrival, eyes cascading down your body before meeting your gaze.
"Y'know, you've been a hard woman to find." He chuckles to himself, the sound making all the hair on your body stand up. Aaron pushes himself off the beam of your porch. "Where you been?"
Your heart is hammering in your chest. You glance over to the babysitter to signal her and she reenters the house and barricades the door. Inhaling a sharp breath, you try to calm yourself.
"What are you doing here?"
He tsk. "Wrong answer. I asked you first."
"I know I'm late—"
"I don't wanna hear excuses." He holds out his hand, flexing the various dark ink crawling up his forearms. "I just want an answer."
His voice is calm. Too calm. It's scaring you.
"I've been busy. Business been slow—"
"Is that not an excuse I'm hearing?" He says, stepping closer to you. You can see the outline of his gun tucked under the band of his pants and your breath shortens. "Where have you been?"
With your heartbeat in your throat, you don't know what answer you can give to satisfy him. So, you remain silent.
When Aaron realizes that, he tilts his gaze out into the driveway with a huff. "I heard you been running around with a Kook," he states, matter-of-fact, and you can smell the faint stench of nicotine wafting from his clothes. "Was that him?"
He's referring to your rideshare driver. You shake your head frantically. "No. But, I swear to you, I'll get you your money if I have more time."
He scoffs in disbelief, turning back and ignoring your pleas. His dark eyes find the pendant wrapped around your neck and he lets out a cold chuckle. "And he's been giving you some real nice gifts, too."
Fuck, this isn't a good look for you. Your panic is skyrocketing and you resist the strongest urge to hide the expensive jewelry behind your palm.
"Aaron." You begin again, your voice shifting to desperation. "I just need a little bit more time. This doesn't mean—"
He holds out another hand. "Look, I've been a nice guy. Wouldn't you say so?" He prompts, tilting his head, and when you don't answer, he adds. "I mean, what kind of person would lend you thirty grand? I consider that pretty generous, right?"
You swallow hard, your throat dry. "Right."
"And I've done nothin' yet to make you not trust me otherwise, right?"
You hesitate with a shaky breath, your knees buckling. "Right."
"So, all I'm asking is to return the gesture and give me back my money. I help you, you help me, that's how this relationship works, right?"
"Aaron, I—"
"If you interrupt me one more time, I'll cut out that fucking tongue."
You let out a small whimper, silencing yourself. Both hands tucked behind your back. He smiles at your submission, dark eyes gleaming in pride. "Good."
Aaron draws closer, stopping just in front of you. His grimy fingers trails down the length of your neck, following the chain of your necklace, before grabbing the pendant between his fingers and ripping it off. The clasp breaks and a gasp leaves your lips.
With his other hand, he seizes the back of your neck.
"Three days." He threatens, the grip piercing into your skin. "I'm givin' you three more days and if you can't pay me back by then, I won't be such a nice guy anymore."
He waves the dangling necklace in front of your face. "I'll keep this as collateral."
You're shaking under his touch and he notices, smiling crudely, before he does another sweep of your exposed body. "And y'know, there's other ways of paying me back."
Aaron finally releases you, and you stumble away from him with a few steps. The dark-haired man descends off your porch and disappears on his bike, leaving you trembling at the foot of your door.
You don't move for the next few minutes. Your mind is occupied with everything going on, that when you slip into your house, you run on autopilot.
You pay the babysitter, patting her back as a silent gratitude for her assistance and protection, and gather your sisters onto the couch, holding them close. Hugging them tight. Trying to use their heartbeats to calm yours.
The rest of the night is spent with them. They wanted to watch a movie and you pulled out an old disk of their favorite films. With that on, they quickly fall asleep on your shoulders and you carry them to their bedroom.
That's when the real work begins.
Spending the rest of your time on the kitchen island, devising a plan, you hear a knock at your door.
Afraid that the loan shark had returned to make a second visit, you hoped it would go away, only for the sound to grow more intense and adamant. Your fear spikes and you were afraid he was going to do something much worse if you didn't answer. When you approached the front door, you held your breath.
Only to find a blond.
"Where were you?" Rafe demands, his expression unreadable but his words are cold. It rubs you the wrong way, reminding you too closely of Aaron.
You can't handle it. You attempt to shut the door, only for Rafe to stick his foot between the crack and push back.
"What the fuck? What are you doing?" Rafe enters into your house, his eyes searching the place for anything out of the ordinary, anything you would hide from him, before his gaze lands on you.
You cross your arms protectively over your chest, thinking this is another one of his outbursts. "Rafe, I don't have time right now. Whatever you're pissed off about, you have to wait—"
"I came home and you were gone."
That quiets you.
"Your shit was gone. Even your mess from the bathroom was wiped clean." He recounts, struggling to conceal the vulnerability seeping through his words with each reveal. "You didn't even leave a note."
Your mind is muddled. You didn't realize it would affect him this much and something about the act endears you. You were so frantic, trying to figure out how to get home before your phone dies, that you forgot your own commitment to Rafe.
"Say something." He urges.
"What happened?" You ask softly, discovering your answer when his expression twists. Like he doesn't want to think about it. You don't want to think about your problems either. "I assumed you would go to a party."
You say that because, if Rafe didn't have you conveniently-located at his disposal, he would return to his own vices. It stings him that you still thought of him as his former image, but he couldn't completely fault you because he did—he went to one of the island's parties and came out still feeling empty.
Rafe's jaw locks as he stares at you, breathing heavily. Taking you in. How just the sight of you seems to soothe him. He doesn't know how to explain it, when the tides changed, but it did. The fact that he's here, in this rundown house in the middle of The Cut after a blowout with his father, all because he misses you says it all.
"I don't want to talk." He declares firmly, the resoluteness of his tone shocks you. "Not now. But I will, after, if that's what you want."
You draw your brows together. "What are you getting at, Rafe?"
Rafe swears under his breath. These words, these feelings are difficult to him. It's uncomfortable and unwanted and all it makes him want to do is resort back to his anger, something comfortable he can express himself in. But he can't. Not with you.
"I don't want that shit anymore. I just wanna fuck you."
Your lips part. "What?"
Unintentionally, the natural response came with a tone of hurt but you disguise it well. You recognize your own feelings in that precise moment. When you got into this relationship with Rafe, you knew nothing he does is out of the sincerity of his heart. It's a committed act. A performance of a perfect boyfriend.
Yet, it breaks your heart. How you manage to fall for him, despite knowing everything he does is fake. Even now, standing before you, he's admitting his clear intentions and you can't help but envision another meaning.
It can destroy you, this hope, only if you let it. You'd rather let the clear lines be drawn. If Rafe is telling you he wants to use you for sex, so be it. You won't ask for anything else.
When your silence becomes deafening, Rafe abandons his last shred of pride.
"Please."
You inhale sharply, evening your words. You can detach too. "Ask me."
His large hand tucks under your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his. "Can I use you?"
"Yes."
The confirmation was all he needed before his lips slams into yours. His hands lowers to capture your ass and as a signal, you jump, wrapping your legs around his waist. Rafe moves through the hallway and towards your bedroom, kick-opening the door, causing the doorknob to smash into your wall with a loud thump.
You pull back from the kiss. "Don't break my house."
"I'll pay for that."
Rafe drops you onto the bed and pulls off his shirt you took from Tannyhill. His movements are skilled and hurried, needing to see you, to taste you. He kisses down your neck, to the curve of your shoulders, before finding himself between the valley of your breasts. His mouth covers a nipple.
You tip your head back with a moan, reveling in the way his tongue twirls around the metal barbell, igniting your nerves. Rafe rocks against your spread legs and you feel his bulge teasing your core. "Rafe, please."
"What did I tell you about rushing me?" He murmurs against your skin. "I'm trying to enjoy this."
The challenge hangs in the air and when Rafe gives both of your tits equal attention, he pulls back to admire the sight of your hard nipples wet and glistening. Tilting his gaze up to you, he palms a breast in his hand.
"I'm going to be rough." He announces. "Tell me if it hurts."
Your heart swells from the gesture but you wish he would just do it without caution. It'll be easier to separate your feelings.
Leaning forward to capture a kiss, you breathe into his mouth. "You said use me, right? Then use me."
His eyes darken. "Don't say something you'll regret."
"Then make me regret it."
You're exactly what he needs.
Rafe wastes no more time and strips out of his clothes, his cock springing free from his boxer, all red and swollen. You can't help but feel a pang of pity, remembering how he had to leave this morning without release.
Reaching out to cup him, he snatches your wrists in one hand. "What do you think you're doing?"
You pout. "I'm helping you."
"Did I tell you to?" His words are commanding, shifting to a state that leaves no room for arguments. You swallow hard, feeling a thrill passing through you at his control. "Are you going to be a good girl tonight and do as you're told?" 
You nod.
"I need words, sweetheart."
"Yes." You say desperately and Rafe releases you.
Pushing you back against the mattress, he pulls you to the ledge and removes your shorts and panties. When you're open and dripping for him, he thrusts into you without warning.
"Shit," you let out a cry. Rafe pushes the back of your thighs into a bend, your kneecaps beside your ears, and this new position gives him access to enter deeper.
"Fuck, I needed this." He moans, burying in ecstasy at the way you wrap perfectly around him. "Why would I ever want to go to another fucking party when I can have this every night?"
You can't answer him, too lost in the initial pain that quickly fades into your credence of pleasure. Moans escape you, elevating in volume with each pump. You had to slap both your hands over your mouth to muffle your sounds from waking your sisters.
Rafe recognizes that immediately. That's the only reason he isn't ripping them off right now—to let him hear how he makes you feel, to listen to what he's owed—because he knows where your priorities lie.
"Please don't stop," you whimper through your fingers, which are slowly loosening as you feel the familiar tension tightening in your gut.
"Sweetheart, God can't even pull me away from this pussy right now." Rafe grunts. Your walls flutter around him. "You're about to come, aren't you?"
You nod desperately and Rafe fastens his rhythm, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as you race towards your orgasm with a loud, uninhibited moan that echoes through the room. He had to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the noise.
Panting, you try to catch your breath but Rafe doesn't allow you to rest. Still hungry, still needing, he pulls out and flips you on your stomach, hauling your ass in the air.
Your legs burn from the way he folded you but you still get on your knees. Breathing heavily with your profile pressed against your sheets, you feel his hands flattening against the smooth curve of your cheeks, squeezing.
Rafe takes his time to admire you from behind. So willing, so wanting, he can see you dripping and making a mess on your covers. He chuckles. "Do you need me, baby?"
"I want you," you breathe, "inside, please."
"Inside where?" Rafe grips the base, tapping his tip on your wet folds. "Here?" He mocks, before shifting to the opening of your asshole. "Or here?"
Your breath hitches; the unfamiliar contact sends a shiver down your spine.
"Come on, sweetheart. I need an answer." Rafe taunts, rubbing his slick cock over your hole, anticipation pricking his skin as he sees you contract. "Would this be your first?"
You nod, too disoriented to form words.
He grins. "Are you going to let me fuck your asshole?"
The feeling of your slickness rubbing against your back entrance feels foreign but not unwelcome, sending hot desire to your core. While you struggle to produce an affirmative, Rafe leans forward to grab your throat, pulling you upright.
"Are you going to answer me, Pogue, or am I going to have to do it for you?"
You hate the term Pogue, especially when he uses it, but at this moment, with his hot breath fanning the crook of your neck, you're glad he is. It reminds you—to separate the sex and your heart.
"Whatever you want." You confess.
Rafe drops you back onto the mattress, spitting on your asshole and wets the area with the pad of his thumb. He didn't immediately enter, as you would have predicted, and instead pushed a thick digit through your hole.
You try to relax, shivering through unfamiliar contact.
"Oh, shit, you're so tight for me." He breathes out, sliding in two. "I know you're going to make me come in a second."
He thrusts in-and-out at a slow pace, prepping you, but the lack of friction is causing you to grow impatient and needy. All you want is him. 
"Do it. I'm ready."
Rafe laughs. Not listening. "But this isn't about you, is it?"
He tests you out for a couple more minutes, getting you comfortable and relaxed, and it lures you into a false sense of security. When you find yourself gathering your breath, it shifts into a sudden emptiness of his removal, and before you know it—he pushes the head of his cock in, surprising you with a scream. 
The pressure stings from the initial intrusion, and you wince, gripping onto the sheets and burying your face, but as Rafe gradually fills you, the pain fades into an unlikely pleasure, floating and amplified all over your body.
"Fuck, you feel so good," he groans. "Am I hurting you?"
You hesitate before nodding. "Yes..."
He stills. "Do you want me to stop?"
You shake your head. "No."
Something ignites deep and carnal within Rafe. The way your body tightens, your legs shaking, and the submission in your voice as he has his way with you. The fact that you want to continue, despite the hurt, because he wants it, drives him insane.
"You're being such a good girl tonight."
The compliment drives your enthusiasm and you wiggle your ass against his cock, feeling him twitch inside of you. It flips his control. Rafe quickly grabs your hips, holding you in place.
He grits out. "Don't do that."
"Why not?" You whine, wanting to feel him deeper, more full. "I'm only trying to help."
A laugh can't help but escape him. At how cockdrunk you are—it carves something in his chest. "God, you really are my personal slut. Doing anything to make me feel good, won't you?"
You don't answer, the call-out warming your cheeks at your own recognition. You said it once during sex, a tease on him, but now you can't help but see how true it is. Now, it feels like an attack on the independent facade you crafted as part of your character.
Rafe wants to hear you. He grips your hips harder, leaving bruises. "Say it."
You shake your head. You don't want him to know how much you're willing to give him. It's too vulnerable.
The lack of silence isn't enough for him.
Rafe rails into you, bottoming out, and you let out a cry at the intensity of his size, at the pressure buried in you, and the pain-pleasure that pulsates through your body. You understand it's your own punishment, but your teeth sinks into your bottom lip, refusing to budge.
He goes again. And again. To the point that he's rage-fucking you, abandoning all restraints and channeling his aggression from his brunch and your disobedience. He wants to know you'll be willing to sacrifice your pride as much as he sacrifices his and he's pissed that you aren't.
A tit-for-tat. 
One of your hands slips between your legs, rubbing your clit in simulation. The euphoria explodes all over, especially with how Rafe fills you from behind, and you moan wildly, causing him to discover the act and pin your wrists behind your back.
"No."
"Rafe." You beg, the ache between your legs is demanding and left without resolution. "Touch me."
He shakes his head with a tsk. "Bad girls don't deserve that."
You have a retort on your lips but it's forgotten the moment he thrusts into you, so deep, it hits a spot you didn't know existed and causes you to roll your eyes to the back of your head.
"Fuck, you're loud." He grumbles, grabbing your panties from the side and bundling them into a tight ball, shoving it into your mouth. You choke on surprise.
"Rafe–"
"Shut. Up." He warns viciously, knowing the increment level of noises you're producing is going to wake your siblings. Another reason why you won't let him in. "And just take it like a good slut."
Something about his command exhilarates you. Bounded and gagged, Rafe is fucking your ass, and all you can think about is you're letting him. You want this. Even with his harsh words.
You had to give him something.
"Like yours." You admit, the muffling of your panties works wonders at stifling your words.
Despite that, he heard it. Rafe pauses for a moment. You aren't giving him everything, but he hears it in the confession.
His command is low. "Say that again."
"I'm yours." You whimper, desperate and submissive. "Please make me come."
His chest warms and his smile is smug. Rafe slides his hand from your hips to your needy cunt, rubbing your swollen nub with tight circles, causing you to buckle and heightening your rising peak.
"Oh, fuck," you gasp with a sharp breath, "oh, god, oh, god."
When you come, your orgasm hits in waves—intense and demanding—ripping out of you despite the gag, and searing in such an elevated state that you slump back onto the bed. Rafe has to abandon everything to grab your middle, holding you up.
He continues to penetrate you from behind until he fills you up, his hot cum leaking out of you. When he pulls out, he takes his fingers and pushes it back in, causing you to contract with a low, lazy moan.
You're out of it. You thought it would be the end but Rafe's appetite is insatiable. He settles back against the headboard of your bed, breathing heavily with a sheen of sweat covering his taut chest, and beckons you.
"Rafe," you groan weakly. "What?"
"Come here."
Despite the throbbing in your muscles, you crawl to him. Settling next to his pelvis, you glance down at his softening cock. "Get me hard again."
Your eyes widen at the instruction. "Are you not tired?"
"Never of you."
You roll your eyes before your fingers gingerly wrap around his shaft, slowly rubbing him out, feeling it harden underneath your touch in a matter of seconds. You gleam in a bit of pride at your ability. You turn back to him, drawn out and exhausted. "Now, what?"
"Ride me."
"What?"
"Come on, sweetheart." He teases, grabbing your waist and moving you to mount over him. Your entrance hovers over his tip, sensitive—so, so sensitive—that you let out a small whine. "You have a promise to keep."
You try. Lowering yourself to let the head in, you immediately pull back, hissing from your overestimation with a fervent shake of your head.
"Rafe." You pant, eyes searching his face. "I can't. I–I think I'm done."
"I'm not." And with that, he thrusts upwards and into you. You collapse onto his cock, sinking down with a cry as tears prick your line of vision from the overwhelming ache of pleasure.
You still move against him, trying to produce some friction, despite your words. Rafe sees how you're working, trying to please him, that he pulls you down to capture your mouth in a tender kiss, drawing out your pain with some pleasantry.
His hand cups the side of your face and you melt into his touch, the act removes all your inhibitions. When he retreats, he whispers against your lips. "Last one, okay, baby? I know you can hold out for me a little longer."
Determination courses through you.
You, with tear-stained cheeks, nods. You straighten your posture, closing your eyes and will yourself through the pain, bouncing on his cock and ignoring the burning sensation in the back of your thighs.
Rafe watches your tits bounce and uses the opportunity to capture the bar lined between your nipples, twisting and pulling them to produce pleasure for you. The additive of his touch pushes your body into overdrive and you feel yourself growing closer once again.
"Please, please, please." You beg, to anyone, anything with a higher power, to guide you through this climax. It's the hardest to peak, and you try to quicken your pace, but your legs give out and you fall flat. Rafe, knowing the familiar twitch of your walls around him, begins to assist and thrusts into you.
"I'm close, baby," he grunts, pumping forward with enough force that pushes both of you through your orgasm and riding out your highs together. You clench so tightly around him, in the aftermath, that he can barely move. 
When you feel the familiar warm pool spilling inside of you, you let him empty it all out, and when you dismount, you fall into the space beside Rafe, leaking and complete fucked out.
Rafe knows your next move is to pull to the ledge, to separate some distance between the two of you, but he doesn't give you the chance before he wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into his chest. His breathing is heavy, his heart rate is fast, and he's worn out from the session.
You don't resist, letting yourself calm down with him. It isn't until he presses a soft kiss to the back of your shoulders and wipes away some of your tears that your stomach flips. "You okay?" He murmurs against your heated skin. 
You want to cry. Not from the sensation but because of how gentle he's treating you after; how it's messing with your feelings and making you think of things you shouldn't.
"I'm fine." You lie, putting your hand over his arms and peeling them off of your body before pulling to the ledge. It feels like a safety tactic nowadays.
Rafe takes it as some kind of rejection and when you move into a sitting position, back pressed against the headboard, you turn to him with a raised brow.
"Do you want to talk about it now?" You ask, doing something, anything to stop this feeling from building inside of your chest and giving you hope. You remind yourself of the transactions; the falsehood of it all.
He doesn't, especially with the distance, but he does it anyway, out of respect for your terms.
"My dad is giving away the case to Sarah."
Your lips part. "What?"
"The one with the marsh and hotel? Yeah."
You pause, taking a few seconds to gather your words. "And you're upset because it's unfair?"
He doesn't answer you immediately. He's not upset about the case itself, there's hundreds of other opportunities for him to handle business like that. Especially now knowing he could. It was the fact that it was our case, because you helped him figure it out. You were his partner.
He shrugs, trying to appear nonchalant. "I worked hard on it. She doesn't deserve all the credit."
You hum in understanding. "I'm sorry."
Rafe huffs. "I don't need your pity."
"It's not pity, it's compassion." You correct. "You're pissed and you're hurt by something your dad did to you. It's okay to feel that. I'm sorry you have to feel that."
Rafe says nothing, watching you.
His heart aches.
You’re so understanding. So perfect. He doesn’t know how to explain how every time he comes in with this need for you, for you to satisfy him physically, only to come out of it a different man. Someone better. Someone more in-tuned with himself. He never had someone like that in his life. 
He looks at you like you’re a dream but he’s afraid he isn’t yours. 
You decide to move the conversation elsewhere, not wanting to end the night in such a depressive state. "Are you staying the night?" 
“Are you kicking me out?” Rafe asks tightly. 
He wants to understand you, of where you’re ranking him at. He knows he’s going to absolutely lose it if he has to go back to Tannyhill tonight. 
"No." You declare, grabbing the comforter and throwing it over your body. You should really take a shower and clean up, but you're so exhausted right now, all you want is to go to sleep and figure it out tomorrow.
"Does that mean..." He trails off, wanting to hear you say it, wanting you to ask him.
You don't.
"Whatever you want, Rafe." You yawn, rubbing your eyes. "If you stay, you stay. If you leave, just make sure to lock the door behind you."
And with that, you fell asleep.
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inuhalfdemon · 2 days
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No One Can Know... (7/?)
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Word Count: 1,384 Words
Chapter 7
"So much left unspoken, between the two of us..." - Halestorm
When Alastor was awake and ready to move, Lucifer helped him through the portal and back into the shower. It was still dark in the room, but Lucifer took his time to see that they were both showered.
He worried that Alastor would be touch averse again now that he was back to a calmer state, but the demon clung to him - still unsteady - as Lucifer took pangs to wash and inspect his body. Lucifer was a needy creature, and a favorite part of an intense sexual session – to him - was the intimacy of aftercare.
The cuts across Alastor's face had already healed. Apart from being both utterly mentally and physically exhausted; Alastor seemed no worse for wear. Lucifer summoned what was needed and began lathering Alastor's fur and hair in product. The sinner was bent close to him as hot water pelted his back, bringing relief to the aching muscles that throbbed and twitched beneath his skin. Lucifer adjusted Alastor's position; rinsing the product from his hair before finding a body wash he wanted. Taking care, Lucifer worked the soap across Alastor's skin in a busy way; purposely so that the movements were never slow, lingering, or sexual in nature.
When he was done and the soap was washed away from Alastor's body, Lucifer turned himself to begin washing his own hair with Alastor leaning heavily against him. Alastor moved and he pressed himself closer to the King's back, resting his head with eyes closed upon a low shoulder. Lucifer let him be as he continued to wash himself and when he was done with that; he dried them both off, gathered up their clothes and - using a portal - moved Alastor and himself to a large spare bedroom suite.
A small wave of the hand; and Lucifer had Alastor dressed in a dark red -with black trim - silk nightshirt and slacks; though he wasn't sure that the sinner had ever really truly noticed. Alastor dizzily had climbed into the bed; burrowing himself beneath the tucked back covers. Lucifer suspected he was asleep before he was ever properly settled.
Lucifer left him to his rest; going to replace the blown fuse to the fuse box and making himself a gin and tonic. He had manifested a pair of loose sweats for himself and nothing else. He was properly tired now...something that was rare for him these nights. He debated with himself, wanting to give Alastor his privacy but also not wanting to leave him alone without knowing what to expect when he awoke. Taking the gin with him; he returned to the room. Settling himself in a plush chair that sat against the wall; Lucifer sipped from his gin before letting his head fall back and falling asleep. 
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Hours later, Alastor was stirring. Lucifer groaned, getting up from the chair and stretching himself. Sleep had abandoned him only moments earlier; still, it was better than he could say for most nights... 
"Uuuuuuuuggggghhhhhhh." Alastor groaned; sitting up and throwing the covers off of himself. "Why do I feel like I'm fucking hungover?" 
Coherent and seemingly...himself. That's good. 
"Probably because you are, you fucking lightweight." He smirked. Lucifer went to the bed, leaning against a bed post that ran up from the footboard. 
"Uh...what time is it?" Alastor groaned again, swiping a clawed hand down his face. "How long have I been asleep?" He was blinking blurrily. 
"Three days..." Lucifer told him, serious now. 
"WHAT!?" Alastor sobered up; ears shooting up straight and his eyes snapping open.
Lucifer spat out a laugh. "Just fucking with you - it's only been a few hours." 
Alastor huffed, clearly unamused. 
"Do you remember anything that happened last night?" Lucifer asked, curious to know. 
"No.....yes?" He was thinking, trying to remember, but was in a haze. "Maybe...we were -" He stiffened. "And, then..later...I-" His face flushed a soft red. 
Lucifer snorted. "I'm flattered that that is what is so memorable to you but, I'm more wondering if you remember what happened between the antics we got up to in the shower…to you deciding to climb me." 
"No, I -" Alastor's ears pulled back, uncomfortable. "I'm afraid that I don't." 
"It's fine. I'm just curious, is all." Lucifer assured him. 
"What did happen?" Alastor asked him, trying for nonchalance but delivering it rather poorly.
Fuck, he's really worried. 
"Naturally, you tried to kill me." Lucifer told him. "But, I think we both were anticipating that. It was all easily managed; no harm done." 
Turning his head, Alastor eyed him. "Cost of damages?" 
"Oh, yes. You blew out a fuse to my fuse box before trying to kill me...so I suppose there's that." 
Alastor pressed a palm to his forehead; eyes squinting tightly closed. "I need to get back to the hotel." He started pulling himself out from the covers. 
"Whoa, already?" Lucifer moved to stop or help him - he wasn't sure which. "It's still early - it's not even light out yet."
"It's better that I return immediately so that no one wonders at my absence." 
"You're sure?" Lucifer asked him. 
"Yes. I'm usually up early anyway." Alastor slid himself from the bed, going to where Lucifer had his clothes hung and set aside for him. 
"Because your...creep-piss-cular? Right?"
"Crepisscular." Alastor fumbled. Creepuscular..." trying again. "Crep-ah! Fuck you, nevermind....yes!" 
Alastor unbuttoned the night shirt; slipping it off. 
“If I leave now, there’ll still be time for me to have breakfast done and ready for everyone before they wake up.” He was saying – reaching for a hanger.
“Special occasion?” Lucifer asked.
“No, it’s something I do every morning.”
“Every morning?” Lucifer cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”
“Because absolutely no one in that god damned establishment – save for Charlie and her ‘boo’ -knows how to make or enjoy a proper meal.” Alastor hissed; casually tossing in a new bit of the new slang he had learned.
“I...have so many questions.” Lucifer told him.
“Well, now’s not the time-“ Alastor was saying; untying and pulling down the pajama bottoms.
“Whoa, whoa, WHOA! What are you doing!?” Lucifer jerked back; looking away.
“I’m undressing.” Alastor ignored his dramatic outburst; thinking him to be acting purposely dramatic.  “You’ve seen it all anyway, what’s the problem here?” He pulled his dress pants to him; carefully shaking them out.
Lucifer’s face was flushed, eyes still cast aside. “I just-I wasn’t expecting it.”
“You don’t have to humor me, your grace.” Alastor told him; slipping into his dress pants – tucking his tail in - and going for the shirt now. “I don’t really need it.”
“That’s not – “ He shifted his eyes back, seeing that Alastor had his shirt pulled on now and was working on the first button.
“Why are you even dressing yourself like that!?” He blurted.
“It’s habit!” Alastor bit back at him. “I don’t use my powers for every little thing.”
Letting it go, Lucifer asked, “So, is that it then. You all done with your rut?”
“Oh, if we could be so lucky…” Alastor sighed, pulling his jacket on now. “I don’t think so. But, I should manage on my own for a while.”
“But, you will c-“
“Yes, my King, I will call on you.” Alastor assured him.
Alastor’s ears were twitching; and he suddenly seemed to be even more in a rush to be leaving.
Ah…someone has certainly given him some trouble.
Quickly re-evaluating, Lucifer realized he was coming off much too…clingy. Which – really wasn’t his intent, but whatever; Lucifer fumbled social interactions all the time - Alastor could read into it as much as he wanted to or not. He wasn’t going to lose sleep over it; he already had enough to torment his nights.   
Fully dressed; Alastor produced his microphone staff with a flourish.
Looking to his sleeve, Alastor pulled at it, absently straightening it out; as he said: “I…appreciate your…collaboration in ensuring that I can keep my end of things running smoothly. I will be in contact with you soon.” Alastor spun his staff; opening a green and swirling portal before promptly stepping through and disappearing entirely; the opening closing with a snap and a soft hiss.
“’Oh, yes…indeed….how terrifically splendid.’” Lucifer mockingly mimicked Alastor’s voice as he walked away, leaving the room. “’Please, let’s do it again sometime – teehee…’“
“The fucker…”   
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[Alastor taking efforts to make breakfast for everyone at the hotel is from a small but lovely fic idea I came across: here]
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tassodelmiele · 1 day
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Noisy little mess
Hi sweetie ⁓
Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).
I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.
Have a good chocolaty day ⁓
DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).
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Fourth part here:
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«Why the hell you've let her-»
«MacTavish»
Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.
«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»
«Then explain yourself, Cap.»
«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»
«She's no insubordinate»
«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»
«How come?»
«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»
«Laswell?? Ye serious?»
Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.
«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»
«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»
«The mission had to be done anyway»
«We could have waited for a better plan»  
He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.
«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»
«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»
«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»
Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.
One in particular.
You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.
You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.
«…I've thought…i could be helpful»
«You're a brave kid, but that was-»
«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 
You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»
«Then why?»
«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»
«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»
You nod.
«Then why a girl?»
You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.
Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.
A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.
Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.
Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.
«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.
And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 
He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:
«W-who required me?»
«I do»
Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.
Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»
«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    
Your eyes lower again.
«…causing trouble-»
«Just that?»
You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.
«Take off your shirt»
Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 
«…sir?»
Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.
«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.
Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 
Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.
«'K. If that's so…»
The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.
You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 
He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.
«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.
You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.
«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»
«Humans» he talks over immediately. 
You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 
«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»
«There was no other way to-»
«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.
«Are you proud?»
The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.
Then you nodd.
«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.
«Yes, I am»
You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.
It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.
«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»
«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»
«I've already told ya: you don't know me»
«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»
«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»
«I know me»   
«It seems not»
Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»
«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.
«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»
«It was just a nerve»
«Judicially irrelevant» 
«Shut your bloody mouth»
«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»
«Yes»
You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 
«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»
Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:
«I've just done my duty-»
«You threw away your life»
«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»
And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»
«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»
He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.
As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»
You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.
«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»
You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.
«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.
His conclusion wastes no time to come:
«You're a submissive»
It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.
«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»
You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.
And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 
The disappointment is palpable.
«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»
That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.
But you don't want him to be right.
«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.
His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»
«Mission was completed»
«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»
«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»
It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.
He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.
«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 
The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…
You bite him.
You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.
On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.
On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.
You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.
Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.
The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.
Price gets in without invitation.
«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»
Ghost doesn't lift his sight.
«I've talked with doc-»
«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»
Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»
«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»
«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»
«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»
«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»
«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»
«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»
Silence. 
Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 
«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»
Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:
«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»
Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»
«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»
«For fuck's sake Price-»
«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»
Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).
Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.
And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.
«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.
John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.
..................................................
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lovelyisadora · 3 months
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it isn’t the end of the semester but i’m already having my end of the semester breakdown oh my GOD I am going to have a heart attack. sprite save me
#nothing is done!! not my applications not my interviews etc#I am running out of time to graduate in June and I could just graduate in august but then I have to admit to my family that I fucked up bad#it takes 3-6 weeks to get IRB approval I need to step on it#it’ll take at least 4 for my paid leave forms for work to go through and I don’t know if it’ll get approved#and if it does when do my benefits start#I feel like an idiot where those forms are concerned because it needs an occupation code and I don’t know if it’s specific#or if I can just select the one that best matches my job description and I can’t find that info anywhere#my body is literally shutting down I have two golf ball sized tumors and I can’t get out of bed but I can’t sleep#my car is kaputt and I have to call several different shops to get it seen because the one I took it to couldn’t fix it#and is any of it worth it!! is any of it!!#I cried for like three hours today bc I tried to talk to my mom about it and. well. she was very much a mom about it and not helpful#like yeah! obviously I want to graduate in June! but my research isn’t even approved because I haven’t been able to get myself#to complete the application for the last six months! Jesus Christ!#I can’t sleep and I’m so tired I’m so so tired my brain just straight up isn’t working!#I swear to god if I finally meet with my advisor and he does his well you don’t seem to need my help bullshit again#I’m gonna actually snap and kill him#anyway. need to do three things by end of Wednesday. just three things#clean. irb. and paid leave. that’s it that’s all.#it’s what I’ve tried to do the last four days and I’ve accomplished none of it but. Jesus Christ it’s gotta get done#FOUR THINGS I have to call the shop to get an estimate for a car I’m not even going to bother to fix#ok vent session over#delete later#fkdjdjshhaa im a MESS#sprite save me 😭#save me sprite. save me
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s0fter-sin · 10 months
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i’ve tried so many energy drinks in the last week and i did not expect monster to be the one that tastes best
#all the others had that gross im an energy drink after taste to them but the monster was just straight up good#none of them have done jack shit for my fatigue but that doesnt exactly surprise me#i had four days in a row where i was awake for over 24 hours#one where i was up for 33#theyre just getting more and more frequent and since my hearts been up the shit recently they reckon i need to go back to the doctors#i needed to anyway for scripts and cause its been so long since my last in person appointment#i just know it wont be the last one and since im thinking of switchig up my meds he might make me go see my cardio again an i cant be fucked#i havent seen him since before covid and hes moved since then so i bet hell want an in person too#im not driving three hours for an ‘oh at least youre looking happier’ and a new script he couldve just emailed me#ive doubled the dosage of my meds which i know isnt smart but i wanted to do something in the meantime#i dont know if hell want me to increase or switch up altogether#but these were the first meds i ever responded to#ive got through like six others and they all did jack shit#no benefits no side effects nothing#and i remember how bad i felt before i was put on these and i cant be bothered feeling like that again waiting to see if something new works#and yeah these never really worked right but at least they worked enough#as long as i dont have to do an in person with my cardio ill deal#i just doubt ill be that lucky#spoonie#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt
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supercantaloupe · 10 months
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would i be an asshole if i called in sick and stayed home from rehearsal tonight
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maxiepkmn-moved · 1 year
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I would post more on here but I am so so scared
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#im uh. well im not doing so well rn#im a touch depressed#im hungry so i opened doordash to order something#but i almost dont want to#because the thought of leaving my bed is so difficult even if im leaving my bed for taco bell#yesterday and today were my weekend and ive been needing to shower for all of those days#but instead of showering today do you know what i did? would you like to know?#i layed down. i layed my head down like i was going to take a nap but i couldnt#so i just layed down with my eyes closed for three hours because i couldnt do anything else#i need to pick up some meds from the pharmacy. i havent been able to do it. i need to do so many things#but all i can do is lay in bed. completely numb. i dont feel a damn thing rn#i have an interview on monday for an opportunity that is really important and exciting. but i dont feel anything#no anxiety. no happiness. nothing#i dont have any anger or sadness or happiness inside of me even though i have so many reasons to feel all of that#but i can't feel. i can't get out of bed. i might call off of work tomorrow#maybe another day off will help me get stuff done. i doubt it but at least i wouldn't have to work#i called off two weeks ago too. i feel like I've become a bit of a disappointment at this job#i really like my boss. he took a chance by hiring me. but I'm probably disappointing him. i did that at my last job too#but this is a shitty job and definitely contributing to my depression#so i dont feel too bad#i might have a bit of a theory#yesterday and the day before yesterday i got a bunch of news that should make me angry and/or sad#really angry and/or sad. but yesterday my numbness started#i think maybe my brain is kind of shutting down all emotions so that i dont have to deal with the big ones i dont want to deal with#thats my theory at least. or maybe my mood stabilizers decided to stop working again. or maybe im not getting enough sun#the way to start healing would probably be to face those emptions but i really dont want to do that#i dont feel like a real person right now
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anguis-sapphire · 1 year
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Welp, it seems today is already off to a melancholy start
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arthur-r · 2 years
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okay hi it’s been 24 hours since surgery so i think the anesthesia is officially all gone, hi everybody i don’t have a tumor anymore which is the best thing that’s happened to me in like a month. and i’m not supposed to go out and work or anything for 3 to 5 days which means i’m basically just hanging out
#yesterday was terrifying oh my friggin god i had an iv and everything and doctors treating me like a little kid#and i’m pretty sure the anesthesia was in the thing they gave me to breathe even though they said it was gonna be in the iv because it didnt#start working until i breathed it in which means the doctors lied and i don’t like it when doctors lie and it felt like my heart was stopped#but i guess it started back up after i fell asleep but it was terrifying while it lasted but that was just a couple seconds#and then i spilled my guts to the nurse after and i’m just really hoping it doesn’t cause me troubles someday cause i’m not sure what i said#except for the stuff that i wrote down right after which included something about getting married which i don’t think i want to do i just#have been watching a lot of married at first sight with my mom and i’ll blame it on that#and also apparently i kept asking her if her job is good and suggesting i should do her job because it seemed super fun#which. anesthetic nurse?? clearly not for me if i have any of my wits about me at all#anyway i’m back now and probably good but still not allowed to drive and stuff so sorry if i end up being ridiculous again#but yeah hi good morning my parents have not been leaving each other alone it’s been at least an hour of shouting per day the past#three or four consecutive days at least. i think more than that cause there have been really early mornings consistently that wake me up#so i’ve just been trying to power through that and it gets extra hard when i hadn’t had surgery yet and always thinking about it#although now i had my surgery yet and i’m just thinking about medical bills and how the guy called it unusual and now that he removed the#tumor he’s sending it to the lab to be investigated and what if it wasn’t benign or what if it’s gonna be chronic or what if so many things#and so it’s not really done hanging over my head. especially with this zig zag scar that might never leave#in other news my mom took me thrifting on thursday to make up for being heading into surgery and i got some red corduroy pants#which are similar to my orange red jeans except for they aren’t tiny and hard to feel good about my weight in#which is nothing about actual weight because at this point i am so comfortable with any type of weight for myself and of course others#it’s just that self consciousness is stored in wearing too tight clothes and knowing everyone around you thinks you look ridiculous#anyway just bought red pants that fit me better than my other ones ever had. and now i can maybe sell some of my blue jeans i can’t do those#i only wear grey and red and tan jeans and my one pair of yellow joggers no matter how hard i try i can’t deal with the blue ones#so having another pair of red stuff will do really well for me i think. but now i’m hyper focusing on those jeans to stop thinking about the#other stuff going on in my life. and i’m sorry shdhdf the point is i’m here now and probably good as far as cognizance goes#i feel like if i’m able to think of the word cognizance off the top of my head i must be good. so yeah hi!!!!#it’s good to be here. i’m sure i’ll delete this later. ask me to tag this there’s so much stuff going on in it cause i’m just talking#hospital tw#surgery tw#weight discussion
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six-of-ravens · 17 days
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that sure was a nap
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anaalnathrakhs · 1 month
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...i'm starting to wonder if i wasn't actually pretty often failed by the adults in my life as a young kid tbh.
#i'm always doubtful where to put the blame#in a morally neutral causality kind of way to be clear#because like. i dont know. if i was the adult. confronted to the opaque behavior of a child. would i have done better?#but also i can't help but think#why the fuck did they make me skip a grade (last grade of primary on top of that) when i was notorious for never doing my homework#and was incredibly inconsistent across topics#like i sucked at math. like ''needs to count on fingers to do a simple addition or substraction'' sucking at math.#like i never learned any multiplication tables sucking at math#like i never got how to pose divisions and still can't at age 18 because logicomathematics are completely counterintuitive to me#and just. the work was never done to make me Get It. my work or teachers' work who knows. but perhaps skipping a grade wasnt the solution#or like#apparently when i was three years old the pediatrician suspected smth was up with me#either autism directly or ''generally suspicious child'' we're not clear on that#but he told my parents. and everybody said ''we better test that'' and then. nothing. idk.#they filled a parental report of behaviors questionnaire for... adhd i think? autism maybe. and that's it. never fucking heard about it.#god. i just remembered my mom saying proudly they almost never put me in the nursery as a kid.#always either with a parent or family or a nanny.#and perhaps mother. you could have foreseen that a kid with no siblings no pets no kid neighbors no playdates. would end up socially fucked#i remember the teachers scolding late students and showing us that we were supposed to be in bed by 9:30 or something#and internally i was like BUDDY AT 9PM WE'RE HALFWAY THROUGH DINNER#MOM'S BEEN HOME FOR LESS THAN AN HOUR#and shit. i don't know. i was scared of the dark as a child. to the point that even with the compromise#of keeping the door ajar and lights in the hallway (which i had to fucking advocate for btw)#i still slept curled up in the bathroom on a towel sometimes when it got too scary#and i would cry and scream before going to bed. i would beg my mom for sleeping pills from a young age.#i would often find myself in the morning sleeping with my face smushed between the pages of the book i literally fell asleep on#because i read until my eyes gave out#and a couple years later when i got a 3ds i'd play at night and if my dad caught me he'd storm into my room and i'd hide under the comforte#and he'd punch a couple times and whisper-yell at me not to do that and go to sleep#it took until i was about 15yo for me to see a sleep specialist
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exopelagic · 3 months
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sooooososososo tored
#it’s been a WEEK#had a cold. missed almost a weeks worth of lectures#oh my god it was only last week that I was doing masters supervisors???#bc I missed my last lecture on Thursday bc meeting and then every single once since until today#I’ve also basically ONLY done ice hockey stuff this week bc we’re doing big meeting this weekend and I gotta run it.#it’s gonna be three hours and we’re doing elections it’s gonna be sooooooo much and it’s already BEEN so much work#having weird feelings abt how much im doing for this club bc I love it it’s great but I should Not be doing this much#the president should be doing more than she is and she only ISNT bc i do so much of it automatically#and I’m also just. more organised. I’m more aware of when we need to do stuff#idk I don’t like it for reasons that are me feeling like I’m taking away from her yknow#she made a joke yesterday lighthearted and not directed at me abt if you delegate too much you don’t have a job#bc I was saying to get other people to do shit and hrm. yeah.#idk it’s a weird place bc when I have backed off she comes to me with it and even when I’m doing stuff I’m checking in with her every step#¯\_(ツ)_/¯ it’s fine we’ve almost done now and we’ve objectively done a really fucking good job so#anyway I’ve had three meetings in the past two days w people applying to president/secretary and i feel like I talked waaaaaaaay too much#I just. talked at them. it was a conversation they were all engaged maybe I’m just feeling weird about nothin#probably just feeling weird abt nothing!!#god one guy going for secretary is me in first year but More anxious#just a smidge less self aware god poor guy kept asking if he could wash up the one mug he used bc I made hot chocolate#he’s cool though. idk if he’ll get it but if he does he’ll definitely work hard and it’ll probably be rlly good for him. was for me#oh wait right no so I’m like. it’s not that I’ve been taking over#no I just realised what happened this week it’s that we have the meeting this weekend and Nobody was doing Anything for it#we didn’t even have a room until yesterday and we only did bc I made it happen#it took sooooooo long bc I had to keep checking with them both and they weren’t replying ever I was so close to just being like.#okay if you can’t help rn that’s cool can I just Do This Myself pls#idk if I could’ve done that anyway I just didn’t wanna go over their heads#but god like i have just pulled together every part of this on top of organising a charity night and a potential second one#bc I was trying to see if we could do smth for palestine but the answer turned out to be not directly bc this uni fucking sucks#so I’m gonna try organise something for a less specific charity thats still helping I think unicef came up and the meals one fuck I forgot#luke.txt
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hoshigray · 7 months
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𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐨𝐫 𝐒𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇[𝐞𝐫]!! | t. fushiguro + s. ryōmen
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𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: Next time, look around the area before you say you find a serial killer attractive. Because you’re about to see what mess your words will have you end up in — and your clothes all torn up.
𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: serial killers! Toji + Sukuna x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! - age gap (the reader is in their early 20s) - porn with plot - oral (f! + m! receiving) - threesome - double penetration; anal (first time) & vaginal - restricted movement (hands tied up) - face-sitting - cowgirl dp positions - gun + knife play - choking - spanking - unprotected sex - overstimulation - degradation (brat, broad, slut, whore) - pet names (baby, dollface, good girl, pet, princess) - blackmail/threats - the reader is in an established relationship w/ Nanami - mentions of blood, tears, spit, and drool.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.6k (told you, porn with plot, lol)
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: uhhhh happy Friday the 13th, everybody???? blame @ramonathinks for this idea (jk, don't, she's so amazing, ty for pushing me into this, mona bear ♡ and tysm for beta reading; your thoughts mean the world). Haven't done a fic in two months sooooo go easy on me!! Not proofread, so I'll fix stuff l8rrrr
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“No.”
“Oh, come on, Y/n! Just answer the question!”
“You’re so fucking sick, you know that!?” You glare at your friend, who slumps on the booth chair with a heavy sigh. 
A slight breeze tickles your skin through your comfortable sweatshirts as the leaves on the trees slowly change to autumnal colors, and Halloween decor is already adorning every house and every yard. It was a warm and sunny afternoon on this pleasant Friday. Usually, you’d be cozied up in your apartment enjoying yourself, probably catching up on some horror flicks you missed last year. 
But alas, that was not the case. Because you’re a college student. As October has finally rolled around, only one thing prevents you from enjoying this beautiful season — midterms. The thought of it is enough to pull you into a pool of dread. Every day has been one whirlwind after another. Yet, on the bright side, all you have now is one last exam to worry about, and you’ll finally be able to rest this weekend. So here you are, at the diner with your best friend, Shoko Ieiri, completing your papers while eating off your plates to satiate the stress. For the most part, things were going smoothly.
Until the news anchor on the television at the bar relays an announcement… 
“…Once again, everyone, please be on the lookout for these two killers on the loose. Three weeks ago, the two recently escaped from their cells, killed three guards, and are still at large. There have been accounts around the state that reported recent sightings of either or both criminals, the recent one being in this county 27 hours ago. So, please, stay safe. The killers are identified to be…”
And Shoko, being the curious person she is, asks you a question that stops your fingers from typing on your laptop: “Do you find those killers hot?” 
That’s how you two end up where you are now, groaning at the brunette’s persistence in getting your approval to find two criminals — murderers, even! — attractive. 
“Hey, Y/n, I know you hear me.” Shoko snaps their fingers at you while you try to get the assignment done. “Just answer the question: don’t you think those guys are hot.”
“We didn’t come all this way for you to talk about your hybristophilia fantasies.” Facing the Word document, you remind your friend why you’re here in the first place. “Just get back to writing; I wanna finish this and get home.” There’s nothing said afterward for a few seconds, thinking she has finally given up.
However, “First of all,” your eyes close to conceal them rolling behind the lids. “I’m not into hybristophilia; I just know a hot guy when I see one. Second, look at their mugshots. Like, damn, you’ve ever seen anyone so intimidatingly good-looking before? Come on, have a look!”
“You’re such a weirdo,” the click-clacking of your fingertips tapping your keyboard fills the rest of your answer. 
Still, she persists. “Y/n, look at the phoooone~”
No words, only tapping keys.
“Y/n?”
The keys become louder. 
“Pretty, pretty, pleaseeeee~?” 
Louder.
“Y/n!!”
A fist bangs on the booth table as the other closes the laptop shut, sending another glare to the person across from you who holds the phone up. You’ve had it at this point, so you say with a steady breath, “If I look at the dumb mugshots and answer your dumb question, will your dumbass leave me alone and finish your work?” The brunette only puts the phone on the table and slides it your way, giving you big doe eyes and whimpers like a hurt puppy. You sigh with your nostrils as you snatch the phone up, your gaze stationed on the images presented.
The image displayed two mugshots: on the left was a man with raven hair and a scar on the left of his lip. Intense, forest-green orbs contrast the black strands that cover his forehead. The mugshot letter board below him is labeled as "Toji Fushiguro." The one on the right is another man with spiky salmon-colored hair pushed upfront with prominent black tattoos decorating his nose, cheeks, and forehead. The board named him as “Sukuna Ryōmen.”
You look at the pictures intently, examining the men’s features at your discretion. It didn’t occur to you how long you were gawking at the mugshots until you peered from the phone to see Shoko give you the biggest shit-eating grin. Shaking your head, you chew the inside of your cheek before responding.
“….Well,” you cough. “…they’re not terrible looking at all. They are…..hot.”
“Told you!” Shoko slams the table with high enthusiasm, earning another sigh from you as she snatches the phone back. “Would you fuck them?”
You almost popped a vein. What the fuck—“is wrong with you!?” 
“It’s just a question, geez.” She holds her hands up defensively. “Or is that too lewd and raunchy to ask the partner of the trusting, charismatic “Golden Boy” SGA president, Kento Nanami?”
You choke on your spit before you can say anything, and your cheeks dial in warmth. “S-Shut up! Don’t bring my love life into whatever deviant horny thoughts you’re thinking!”
“I’m sorry, I’m boreeeeeeed. I don’t wanna do this paper, ugh.” The brunette whines and bangs their forehead on the table surface; your eyes roll for the fifteenth time in the past three hours. “…Maybe I should get some dick after this.”
“For fuck’s sake, I’m going to use the restroom.” 
You exit the dining booth when they give you a muffled response of anguish, straightening yourself and heading for the back of the diner. As you walked away, you noticed a pair of hooded figures sitting at the booth behind you. Realization kicks in, and you groan internally. Oh, God, they probably heard what we were talking about! But what caught your mind next was that one of them had a black mark on the bridge of their nose. Huh, what an odd tattoo…
After using the toilet, you wash your hands at the sink, but your mind is still fixated on that weird tattoo. Who would get such a thing on their face? Wouldn’t that hurt? I wonder if that’s the only tatt— And then It clicked, you quickly turn off the faucet and dry your hands, exit the rest restroom, and run to your booth. Shoko was begrudgingly typing away on their laptop until she saw you return in a hurry. 
“Hey, you okay?” She asks you, but you aren’t looking at them. Your face contoured to a confused expression as you stared at the booth behind the one you were sitting in, now empty. 
“Did…..The two people who sat behind us, did you see them?” 
“Hmm? No, I didn’t. Must’ve left while my head was on the table.”
“Uh huh…” you say nothing more as you slowly sit back in front of your laptop. Your mind is now clouded with confusing thoughts, questioning your experience up until now. It could be a coincidence, quite far out at that. Regardless, you could’ve sworn you saw that tattoo on the Sukuna guy that Shoko showed you. It was such an uncommon decor, especially since you just saw it on the face of a criminal. Not to mention, the news anchor earlier stated that those two killers were in this exact county…
Needless to say, you didn’t touch your keyboard for about twenty minutes. Your mind was too wrapped up elsewhere to think clearly about your school assignment, and your body harbored a disturbing chill worse than the soft autumn winds.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“…So, why are you researching about the loose killers again?”
“Hm? Oh,” you stop typing on the laptop to attend to the phone call you’re on. Exiting your bedroom, you walk to the living room. “No reason, I was just curious. I saw something about them on the news at the diner with Shoko.”
The person on the other side of the line hums. “You should be careful about stuff like that.”
“Yeah, I know, Kenty,” you open the sliding door to your balcony and close it behind you before taking a seat on the cream-colored swing chair.
“I’m very serious, Y/n.” It was none other than Kento Nanami who was speaking with you. The trustworthy “Golden Boy” of your class year, the circumspect president of the Student Government Association… your loving and attentive boyfriend.
"I know you are."
"And those guys aren't just any usual criminals. They're notorious killers who barge into people's homes at night to steal valuable things. Maybe even kill their victims in their sleep if they have the time. So, be very careful, okay? Can’t trust these streets at night, especially now with those guys on the run. So, don’t go anywhere alone, always have your pepper spray on you, and be sure everything is locked — doors, windows, everything.”
A deep sigh leaves your lips. “Yeah, I double-checked all the locks once I got inside.” 
No one says a word; the rustling of the trees and the beeping of cars from the traffic at the light substitute this awkward silence. Until Nanami says, “….You scared?”
You don’t answer immediately, your mind flashing back to the bewildering encounter at the diner earlier today. Those two hooded men, one with a black tattoo on his face. It felt too surreal to feel like a coincidence, yet it wasn’t too far out of your mind to think as such. The timing was strange, with the news reporter and your conversation with Shoko. The thought of two murderers nonchalantly being in the same space as you rub you off in the worst way imaginable. “…Kinda, yeah. A bit spooked.”
“You want me to come up there and spend the night?”
“No, no! You don’t have to do that,” you hurriedly decline his proposal. “I know you’re busy with homework and student government stuff. I wouldn’t want you moving around so much; I’d feel bad.”
You hear him chuckle on the other side of the phone, and your heart swoons at the sound. “Don’t feel bad; you could never be a burden to me, especially when your safety is my top priority.” Another skip of the beat; it’ll never fail to amaze you how sweet he is with his words.
“Thank you, Kenty. But still, I know you’ve got a lot on your hands. You don’t have to see me right this moment. Besides, isn’t Haibara supposedly dragging you to some party at Geto’s?” Nanami is silent for a few seconds before he groans; a smile creeps up on your face at his reaction.
“Unfortunately, yes. I have to leave to pick him up, and then we can go…But I can cancel and come o—“
“Absolutely not.” You’re quick to interject. “You’ve been so high and on edge with your exams. This is the first party after midterm week. And I can bet my left toe that Gojo — cause you know he’ll be there if Geto is — will be upset you couldn’t make it.”
“…….Which one?”
“Excuse me?”
“You have five toes on your left foot, so which one—“
“Kento.” He chuckles once more for your ears to hear at the use of his real name. “Have fun, okay?”
Nanami hums. “I’ll try. I’ll come by your place Sunday. Sounds good?”
“Perfect. Take some pics for me. Love you!”
Your boyfriend bids you farewell before ending the call, already missing his voice. A yawn creeps out from you, a sign that you are indeed fatigued and need rest. Leaving the balcony, you close the door and do a final check at your door. Confirmed that it’s locked and secured, you turn off the living room lights and head back to your bedroom to get some shut-eye. 
You shut off and close your laptop on your desk before turning off the lights. Then, you lift the comforter and finally enter the chilly embrace of your bedsheets.  Usually, you’d scroll on your phone for a little bit until you get drowsy enough to fall asleep. Yet — it could be because of the exam you were doing at the diner — you felt way more exhausted than usual and wanted to sleep right away. And you did just that: closed your eyes, listened to the calming rhythm of your breaths, and soon drifted into an anticipated slumber.
….Three Hours Later….
The next time you open your eyes, you’re not in the room you left yourself in — let alone the bed. 
Instead, you find yourself somewhere cold and dark. Your bed is nowhere in sight, just a lone chair facing you. There are no windows, no desks, just you and this chair with a sole overhead light that almost blinds you when you slowly get up. 
The change of scenery throws you off as one thought after another picks up the pace of confusion. Where am I? What is this place? This has to be a sick dream of mine…Wait a minute. You look down to find your pajamas are shriveled and torn up, pieces of the material scattered all over where you’re lying on the cold floor. Also, what the fuck!? You can’t seem to move your hands and feet, noticing that there’s some rope restricting your limbs from moving freely from one another. No matter how hard you try, squirming does little to no help, yet it confirms that this is not a dream.
What the absolute fuck is going on right now!? It was an appropriate question for this perplexing situation, not knowing where to pick up from to start picking clues as to why you’re here. Better yet, who brought you here?
“Ah, look who’s awake.”
You turn to the sound of a door opening and closing; the direction it came from makes it hard to register the distance of whoever was speaking to you. However, that doesn’t matter because you can hear footsteps approaching you and a figure stepping into the light. And when the face finally comes to your field of vision, your blood shifts into an immediate icy cold.
Standing to you by the chair was a man in a tight black shirt that exhibited his muscular arms and physique way too perfectly, harboring dark and baggy pants. But those weren’t the features that had your breath hitch. No, no. The man before you had raven hair with the length stopped to his ears and strands that covered his brows. They did not even try concealing the striking green eyes that looked straight at you. And the familiar scar at the right of his lip put everything together for you — the mugshot that Shoko showed me, the inmate that escaped prison…!
Toji Fushiguro, in the flesh, takes a seat on the chair with his legs spread while putting on black gloves. He notices your look of realization and smirks; you don’t like how his scar is rooted up with the motion. “Y’re a pretty heavy sleeper, ya know that. But I guess that made bringing you here a lil’ simple.” 
A tiny bit of confidence prompts you to speak with the man. “Whe–Where am I?”
“C’mon now, little girl,” your stomach churns when he scoffs at you. He brings up a hand to help him as he cracks his neck. God, why is he so jacked!!? “Y’re supposed to be smart, right? You know that’s the wrong question to ask me.” 
Okay then, think, Y/n, think… ”…Why did you kidnap me? Is it for money? Because I don’t have much—“ The palm of Toji’s hand faces you to halt you from speaking more, making your nervousness dwell even further. 
“For one, you should really consider locking your balcony door when y’re done using it.” There are not enough words to describe the mental facepalm you gave yourself. “If we wanted to run y’r pockets, we woulda done so earlier.” He casually admits to you. “But that’s not why we brought ya here, so he’ll explain it to ya.”
He? Wait, wait, we??
The other mugshot hits you like a flash before you hear the door open and close again. Of course, Toji isn’t the only one on the run right now. There was another guy with salmon-colored hair and tattoos. The other figure, now wearing a black tank tee and ripped black jeans, came from behind Toji. Your stomach drops to the floor when your eyes land on the prominent black tattoo on his nose — now seeing that he has way more on his face, shoulders, arms, and wrists. The scene from the diner replays until your brain can’t keep up. It was him, no doubt about it.
“Well, well. Did the sleeping beauty finally get their rest?” Sukuna Ryōmen, looks just as [if not more] dangerous as Toji. He stuffs his hand into the back of his jeans pocket. “Listen here, I’ll be asking you some questions, and I expect nothing but honest answers. Got that?” 
You don’t know what possessed you to ask the question. You being scared shitless right now should’ve prevented you from doing so. And yet, you ask, “And if I don’t?”
It happened way too fast; your eyes couldn’t even process it happening. But one moment, the salmon-haired criminal was standing in front of you beside Toji. The next, you feel someone crouched behind you with the cold feeling of something barely piercing your skin. Your eyes widen, and you don’t dare move a single hair. Toji shakes his head at you, the smirk on his face still present. Now you can guess who had fun cutting up your PJs.
“I don’t think you wanna know the answer to that question.” He says it so close to your ear that you could’ve nearly fainted. Sukuna then moves the knife to scrape the side of your neck. “And don’t you ever think you’re in a position to ask me questions. Use that college brain of yours, brat.” 
You gulp — a risky move when you have a sharp object to your neck — and nod. Satisfied, the pink-haired man removes the knife from your proximity and stands right up. “At least you follow things quickly.” He says while walking back to where he stood prior. “Now, question one: do you know a kid named Kento Nanami?” 
The mention of your boyfriend’s name hits you like whiplash. Kento? What do they want with him!?
“…Yes, I do.”
“Good. Next question,” You chew the inside of your lip before he asks you the following. “Where does he live?”
Your body almost shuts down when he says the final word. No. No, no, no! Absolutely not! “I can’t tell you that.”
“Tch, just when you were doin’ so good.” Sukuna sucks his teeth. “And why the hell not?”
“Because I don’t want you hurting him.”
He barks a laugh. “You don’t even know what we’ll do to him! Damn, talk about a loyal dog.” 
The insult sparked a flame in you. It was a small one, but a flame nonetheless. “Why the hell do you want to know anyway? It’s not like he knows you any—Hrckk!”
“What the hell did I say about you asking questions, huh.” A hurried hand meets your throat, black nails digging into your skin as his grip gets unbearably tight. You attempt to keep a stern face despite choking for some air, but you’d be lying that the pain wasn’t getting to your head.
“Alright, Kuna, let ‘em go.” You almost forgot about Toji sitting on the chair until he spoke up. With a displeased click of the tongue, Sukuna releases you and throws you to the cold, hard floor. “For your information, princess, that kid does know us.”
You’re coughing up a storm, but you still listen. Your eyes are watery, and your throat pulses. “Hic…Ack, what—What are you talking about?”
Toji continues. “That little friend of y’rs is the reason why we were behind bars for three years. Fuckin’ kid saw us break into a house in his neighborhood and called the cops on us. For the longest time, we’ve thought about getting out of those damn cells and coming back to rip that lil’ fucker limb from limb. Maybe ransack his whole home and then some.” 
“And now that we are out here,” Sukuna chimes in. “We plan on doing just that. We were sitting right behind you at the diner and heard the brown-haired chick say his name, meaning he had to be around this county. And when he heard that fucking square had a little girlfriend, who better to introduce ourselves and point us the way than you.” 
So much information hits you all at once that you’re not given enough time to process it properly. Nanami called the cops on these guys? Where was that piece of information on the phone call!!? Three years ago, it must’ve happened before the start of freshman year. And then there’s the matter of these murders trying to kill him — the love of your life! 
You immediately try to weigh your options: you could give them a fake address, but that would lead them back to you and have you killed instead. And Nanami doesn’t live at home right now; he’s on campus with you and everyone else. So, sharing these two his home address will just have his family killed in his place! Oh, you wouldn’t handle that guilt; you just couldn’t!!
“So, what’ll it be, little girl?” Toji’s voice snaps you from your rampant thoughts. “You can be a cute girlfriend and be loyal, and we’ll just kill you right here, right now. Or, you give us an address, we’ll put you back to sleep, and you’ll never see from us ever again.” 
Those two options were far from what you wanted to do. You would never want to jeopardize your poor boyfriend’s life and those around him for being a model citizen, especially for these assholes! There had to be a way, something you could do!
“Please, don’t hurt him!” The ropes on your hands and feet have you shuffle to look at the two men from the dirty ground. “He didn’t do anything wrong. Please just spare him!”
“No-can-do, brat.” Sukuna comes down to your level once more, yanking your shirt — or whatever’s left of it, your bra practically out for the whole world to see — to lift your upper body. “Nothing to ease a vengeful spirit than taking care of the problem, right? So do us a favor, will ya.” 
Tears are fighting your control to fall, your body trembling. You’re scared, so so frightened. But most of all, you’ll do what you can to make sure your “golden boy” stands tall for you. “Please, I’ll do anything! Anything you want, I’ll do it! So, please!!” 
Sukuna opens his mouth to bite back, but no words come out. Actually, his expression resorts back to a neutral tone. He then turns to Toji, who looks at him with a quirked brow. There’s nothing but silence between the two, a silent conversation between the two killers that you have no choice but to stay quiet for. And you jerk when the two focus back on you. Sukuna then finally says something.
“Anything, huh?” It’s the worst when he sneers at you. Such a devious man. 
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Tch. Fucking brat.” Sukuna sucks his teeth before he snatches your chin with a rough vigor, forcing your teary eyes to face him. And it doesn’t help that you now have a gun pointed at your temple. “This is your warning. You better do this right, or you’ll be the first to get a gift with your boyfriend’s head all minced up. Now, use that mouth. Properly.”
Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you’d end up here. You stood on your knees and hands on the concrete floor, your mouth occupied with Sukuna’s cock, propelling your face to and fro to meet the base. Why the handgun to your head? According to the salmon-haired man, he said: “Try to fight, run, or bite our dicks off, then this whole mag is getting emptied.” So, you’re literally giving the fellatio of your life. And judging by the grunts coming from Sukuna, it seems you’re doing a decent job keeping him going. 
As for the other one, Toji, his hands grabbing onto your asscheeks from beneath should answer that. “C’mon, baby, sit on my face. I don’t bite…” you can tell he has the biggest grin on his face saying that, has you hesitant to follow orders. Regardless, you gently sway your ass down to sit on his face. But impatience gets the best of him before he pulls you down himself, his nose abruptly hitting your clitoris. You jolt despite his hands keeping you on him, forced to feel his tongue and mouth indulging on your wet folds.
So there you sit, bare and nude, for the men to use you as they see fit. Whatever piece of your clothes were torn off you to be fully exposed for them. This is what you choose to do for the sake of your boyfriend: giving yourself off for the night. 
Oh, if Shoko could see you now. Sucking off one of the exact murderers you two were talking about at the diner while the other eats you out? You know you’ll never hear the end of it from her if — by some miracle — she finds out! And you’ll hold onto that miracle for as long as you can. 
“…Fuuuck, hnngh! It’s been a minute since I had my dick on something tight,” Sukuna comments while putting his free hand on your head. His thrusts increase to have your tongue bathe the underside of his dick, and he sighs at you choking when the tip suddenly hits your uvula. “Heh, that’s right. Keep those tears coming, pet…You seem to be enjoying yourself there, Fushiguro. This broad taste that fucking good—Ohhh shit, fucking shit…”
You can feel Toji’s lips curve into a smile from down under, he gives your labia and clit a slow and antagonizing lick before responding to his partner in crime. “Mmmm, man. It’s been a while since I had to do this. Crazy how this princess got with a square like that kid. Wonder if he makes ‘em feel good like this.” And then he returns to your clit to give it a harsh suck. 
Your body continues to be used like a toy. Your jaw loosens to oblige Sukuna’s girth that’s currently hitting the back of your throat every time your lips meet the pubes of his pelvis. His ruts dial-up, and you ball your fists with the constant oral abuse on your face. Drool runs down your chin with every shove of his length, practically choking you with his dick. And the commotion between your leaking vulva and Toji doesn’t go unnoticed either; motherfuker’s tongue is relentless, making sure every crevice and part of your pussy is familiar with him. And the sounds of him slurping your essence are so lewd, so erotic for your ears that you think they’re bound to explode on you. 
“—Ahhh, damn, I’m gonna cum,” Oh, God. Your eyes open to look at Sukuna’s expression, nothing but pure enjoyment looking at your pitiful look. “You’re cute looking all pathetic taking my cock like this, whore—Mmmph!! Shiiiit, keep your head like that.” He grabs your head as his thrusts speed up to an irregular pace, your throat and face becoming numb. Your whimpers are muffled, and tears streak down your cheeks. His groans of pleasure fill the room, and before you know it, his load is released down to the depths of your throat. You’re stuck taking it, mewling on the shaft still in your mouth until he’s finished. 
He removes you when he is, his cock slathered in your saliva and still rock hard. You gawk at it, amazed that you could fit it in your mouth. And you hate to admit this, but it has you wondering what Toji’s is like. 
Speaking of, with a foggy mind, you peer down to see Toji finally done eating your cunt out. “Ya taste good, you know that.” He licks his lips provocately with a smile. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off. “You ready fr’ me now?” He cocks his chin up, and you turn to see what he’s talking about, only to be met with the pinkish-red tip of his sprung erect cock. If you didn’t think you’d be able to have Sukuna’s in your mouth, you’re going to need a diety’s grace to see what you can do with Toji’s. “Heh, think I’m too big fr’ you? How the hell is Kento handling a piece like you?”
“S–Shut up, stop bringing him up!” You shout at him, tired of being reminded of the love of your life whom you’re betraying right now. All for his sake, but still…
He chuckles at your reaction. “Little girl got spark, huh. Fine then, be a doll and put it in yourself.” 
Cold sweat slides from your brow. Me? I’ve gotta put that shit in on my own!? But you have to. You know you do. So, with anxiousness pooling in your stomach, you bring your ass up and use your hand to align his cock to your wet cunt. 
It takes a lot of mental motivation for you to continue, but slowly and surely, you push the folds of your cunt onto his glans. The pain you experience makes it excruciating to bear, but with steady breaths, you push the tip in with every exhale. And when it finally enters your vulva, a gasp erupts from your puffy lips and a hiss from the man with the scarred lip. “Mmmm, slow down, baby, slow it down…” That was probably the only words he’s ever said that you could trust, so you anchor your ass down, taking in every inch of his length with his hands guiding your ass down. When you reach the base, you give yourself a few seconds to adjust to his girth within your velvety walls. “Fuck, ya feel so nice and tight, princess.”
“Is that so?” Sukuna walks from behind. “Can’t wait for me to have a go.” You couldn’t even comprehend the meaning of that sentence because the salmon-haired one kicked your back. You are now mounted on Toji completely, the two of you facing each other while Sukuna crouches behind your ass. “Get ready, I’m putting it in.”
“Huh?” Wait, both at the same time!? “Ho–Hold on, I’ve never done it in my ass bef—“
“Doesn’t sound like a problem to me; guess I’ll be the first then,” he shuts down your argument and then bends down to use his fingers and spit to ease your asshole. It feels so gross and repulsive that you could puke right now. Not that it would matter to Sukuna because he’s already set on doing it — his fore and middle finger pushing in and out of your anus. When he feels you’ve loosened up, he’ll remove his digits and substitute them with his cock. 
And he doesn’t warn you either, fucking bastard; he nudges his dick in his own countdown with no regard to how you’re feeling. Gripping onto the raven-haired man’s black shirt, Sukuna’s cock puts you through pain worth traumatizing, evoking screams that scratch your throat until he gets the whole thing in your ass. Nanami would never put you through this much pain. Never!
“Aww, y’re making the pretty girl cry,” Toji teases condescendingly, chuckling at the sight of you burying your head in his chest to shield the embarrassment. 
Sukuna hums while grinding his hips to your ass, a tiny bit of blood painting his shaft. “Hmph, good, makes my enjoyment worthwhile. Now,” you shriek with the sudden snap of his hips to your ass. “Let’s get this show started.”
When Sukuna moves, Toji follows right after, and you’re left to fend for yourself in this unsteady tempo from both your holes. You start seeing stars from the unusual stimulation, and your mind and vision become so blurry that it hurts to think. Hell, it hurts to try and concentrate on one dick at a time! One is currently scraping the wells of your walls in a way that your slit clenches around him, while the other churns your insides from the back that almost takes your breath away. More drool and tears seep into the black shirt you use to disguise yourself from them. This shit is already humiliating as is!
“C’mon now, baby. Show me that pretty face of y’rs.” Of course, Toji uses one hand to nudge your head to look at him. Your face is such a wet and hot mess, the sweat on your body making you sticky. The attempt to make sentences is beyond you, relying on moans and choked sobs to express your disorganized emotions. “There ya are. Good fuckin’ girl.”
Toji then takes your plump lips with his, his hand snaking to the back of your head to deepen the kiss. It was one thing letting them use your cunt and ass as they see fit; now, they dare to kiss you in a time like this. Oh, this is the absolute worst! How can you speak to Nanami ever again after this!? These lips are now sullied by the lips and cock of other men. You can’t ever go back and say that you were his, and it’s because of these assholes!!
…And what’s worse, you were starting to find enjoyment in what you were doing, sinking into Toji’s kiss and moaning into his scarred lips.
“Haahh…Mmmph…Damn, this slut is so fucking tight.” Sukuna watches your back glisten in the light while your ass quaked under his unstable momentum. He sneers before slapping your asscheek, resulting in a rushed moan and a twitch from your pussy. Toji breaks the kiss. “Hey, keep doing that. Think they like it.” 
With devilish glee, the tattooed other doesn’t hold back. He gives you another smack to the ass, and more loud purrs and shrieks fill the space between you three. Fast ruts to your soaping slit and ass coincide with the strikes to your butt, catching you off guard and leaving a stinging sensation every time. 
It’s apparent now that your hips start to move on their own, riding out your own high while preparing for your orgasm that’s climbing up. And the raven-haired man notices as he puts your hand on your aching buttcheeks. “Goin somewhere, dollface?” 
Oh, for fuck’s sake, let me come already!! “—Ahhnn, ooohhhh!! I’m about to cummm—I’m gonna break—Eeyahhh!!!
“That so?” You want to wipe that smirk off his stupid, dumb, handsome face. “Then go ahead and get dirty, princess. Ring us up.”
Your arousal staggers up when both of their thrusts fall into a unity, the tender spots of your gummy walls from your ass and cunt being hit and abused prompt more ecstatic moans and your head pounding with every jab. Almost there, almost! Please, please, I want it!! And you are finally given what you want; your release crashes into you in a hard swoop, the shocks crawling up your body while your holes contract around both men’s cocks. Your brain falls into an erotic trance; you only care about the euphoric sensations tingling around your body. Dizziness overtakes you, and your head descends back on Toji’s chest.
“Hmph, you really a pathetic pet.” Sukuna grinds his pelvis into your sensitive ass. The aftershocks from your release still make your body react to their movements. “Chasing for your own orgasm, huh. We outta fuck that selfishness right out of you, damn brat…”
You don’t say anything — more like you don’t have the energy to. Your ass and chasm are too stuffed to keep your mind active, and your eyelids feel too heavy to keep up. It probably was from all that crying and screaming. All you want to do is go back to sleep in your bed at your cozy apartment. But that must be asking for too much. Just please end this nightmare…
Kenty…Please forgive me, I’m so sorry….
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
You can’t remember how sleep found you that night. But your eyes open to the ray of sunshine that peaks through the binds of your bedroom. Wait, my bedroom!?
You shoot up from your bed, the soft comforter and sheets peeling off your skin, and the cool air from the air conditioning welcomes you back to your personal space. Everything untouched, everything where it’s supposed to be — where you’re supposed to be.
A deep breath is the first thing you do when you wake up, following a long exhale. Was I dreaming? You would’ve accepted that delusion had you not looked down to realize that your figure was covered with one of your oversized shirts, remembering that your old pajamas were cut and torn up. Flashes of last night return to haunt you, and shivers travel down your spine from realizing what transpired at those ungodly hours. You quickly check your sheets for any stains — Thank God, none. Funny how a pair of serial killing assholes have the decency to clean up your body. 
And then a sudden feeling of dread crawls up after hearing your phone vibrating on your nightstand. You hurry to check the screen to find out it was a text message from Nanami. It’s a Saturday, 9 a.m. He’d usually be sleeping in until noon. Curious, you unlock your phone to check what your boyfriend is texting you about.
Recent Message from: ♡ my bby nanamiii ♡
Hey, Y/n. Hope you slept well and everything’s okay. I’m coming from Geto’s place after picking up Haibara, who is going through the worst hangover right now. He said he wants to see you and that you make the best meals for his hangovers. I don’t want to intrude if you’re not up for guests, so please tell me so I can take him somewhere else. But otherwise, we’ll be there at around 30-45 mins. Let’s just relax this weekend, okay?
Reading the text as you fall in love with him all over again. After what you’ve gone through, knowing that he’s safe and sound from any trouble, all you want right now is to be around him and hold him close. To be with him and forget about everything that’s happened. 
You send a heartwarming reply saying you’ll be waiting for the two of them. Then, you remove yourself from the bed and stretch out your fatigued muscles. Ugh, I should probably shower before Nananmi gets here…
However, before you lift your shirt and head for the bathroom, you notice a glass of water and a bag full of pills. Huh…I definitely didn’t have that there when I went to sleep before I was taken. And next to the glass was a folded piece of paper. Curiosity got the best of you this morning as you picked up the material to read its contents. 
And this is where you knew your life was changing, for better or worse. Your legs give out, making you fall to your knees with a shaky breath, the hairs of your body standing, and your heart on the verge of leaping out of your mouth. What you read crushed your whole being, leaving you cold in this world — worse than the autumn breeze.
Yo, thanks for the great time last night. Keep that up, and your pretty boytoy will keep standing. Here’s water and birth control, and keep that bag safe. Wouldn’t wanna end up losing it for the next time we fuck you dumb. See ya later, pet.
SR + TF
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♱ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2023 – reblogs + comments are appreciated wholeheartedly <3 header art by rororgi mogera + dividers by the amazing @/cafekitsune!!
11K notes · View notes
innalheid · 8 months
Text
I'm so frickin. Frustrated ugh
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satoruhour · 8 months
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geto reaction to you wearing only his shirt
OVERSIZED NEVER LOOKED THIS GOOD
a/n: lore. a lot of lore. i always cannot help but write backstories. ure gonna have to bear w/ me SORRY !!!! based off of this drawing that i wanted to write sum about but then i thought why not combine it w/ this prompt. i went a little insane on this mb / tagging @papersirens @crysugu @getousex @hyomagiri @slttygeto, who else r geto fuckers
wc: 2.9k
warnings: roommate!geto, soft dom!geto, mutual pining, reader steals one of geto’s shirts, geto is also a little bit of a pervert, mentions of panty sniffing but geto doesn’t do it, m! and f! masturbation, fingering, clit stimulation, oral / cunnilingus, slight nipple play, spitting (on ur pussy), finger sucking, p -> v sex, unprotected sex, creampie / breeding kink, n*sfw under the cut
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geto was a sweet roommate.
he’s always topping up on supplies when you needed things, pushing away your hand whenever you wanted to pay. where he got all his money, you weren’t even sure. geto cleaned the house, he cooked dinner, hell, it was like you two were married at this point. even gojo had asked if he would get together with someone who wasn’t you (and of course, in classic gojo way, he was skilled in asking it in a roundabout way), geto’s firm and abrupt “no” was enough to make gojo grin from ear to ear.
even he wasn’t sure when it all started — you were always friends with the three of them, gojo and shoko and himself, participating in their antics and getting in trouble in high school. there was hardly any dull times between the four, looking at you through the lens of a friend. but when those lens started to turn blurry and black, seeing you in a new light of tighter outfits and a sweet smile that looked like it contained something hidden, suguru genuinely hoped it would all go away.
it’s not like he thought he was unattractive, but you wouldn’t go for a guy like him, someone hidden behind gojo’s bright personality or shoko’s satirical, cool demeanour. he was oh so oblivious, however, turning an unintentional blind eye when you’re hanging with gojo for the day but only because you wanted to know what birthday present would be best for him, or having a movie night with shoko only to disregard cher horowitz on the television just to ask if geto would like your new nails and hair.
the two of you were so dense when either of you were hanging with them, going on for so long even after taking a gap year for shoko’s overseas med school attachment. they assumed the two of you would’ve done something then, but it was stagnant, dry, that gojo almost wants to take matters into his own hands; so when you’re begging geto if you could room with him, since he lived near the university you were all attending together,
“suguru, pleasee— i wouldn’t wanna travel for hours on end just for like a two hour lecture.”
shoko smiles, gojo laughs, slinging an arm around you, “help your poor friend out, suguru.”
gojo torments him to no end. he doesn’t regret it one bit when your arms are thrown around his neck in a bear hug in thanks, feeling himself get hard just from the way your breasts press against his chest.
“yeah,” it’s said breathily, softly, “it’s no problem.”
suguru thanked god you hadn’t wanted to move in that very same day, cause all that could be heard throughout the small apartment was him pumping his cock to a polaroid picture of you, calling out your name softly as he came all over the photo of your bright smile. he didn’t need the fan that night, the guilt was enough to burn him alive. and after, he acted like nothing happened, except the many, many times he’d think of taking you on every surface of the house, suffering silently for an entire year as the two of you fell into routine day by day.
today might change, however, when geto hangs the last piece of clothing, something that was hardly a difficult task, but it proved to be the hardest thing to date when he’d spot the bras and underwear lying at the bottom of the basket each time he prepared to do laundry. geto wills himself to wash, hang it, and get out but he cannot tear his eyes away from the unmistakable dark spot at the centre of your panties before it’s thrown in, taunting him to just pick it up to breathe in your scent, to do something to defile it, to let his desires take over. but he wasn’t gojo, no, he’d wait all the time in the world for the right time, even if it was at the expense of a throbbing cock and flushed cheeks.
“(y/n), ’m going to the store, you want…” his voice trails off when the drawer before him shows only one clean shirt left, sighing when his favourite shirt has gone missing, again. he knows it simply by the missing tag on the top, cut off terribly by your hands on a drunk movie night. he was thankful you missed his skin by an inch, but he cherishes that shirt and night dearly. geto simply brushes off the mishap, grabbing a sweatshirt instead.
there’s a rap on your door that quells all movement from your side, fabric clutched tightly between your fingers that it hurt just a little.
“(y/n)? love? you okay?”
“y— yeah, i’m fine sugu. what did you say earlier?”
“i’m going to the store. it’s grocery day so i’ll be there for a while — need to stock the fridge up for the week. you want anything?”
geto wishes so desperately to see your face now, asking if you could go and holding a reusable bag by your side, but strangely you don’t even make a move to open the door.
“no it’s fine, and okay! i’m— uh, busy with something,” you look towards the door and back to the article of clothing in your hand, “so i’m sorry i can’t help today.”
geto’s disappointment is brief, but he recovers as soon as he hears your apology, in that sweet, honeyed voice you love to use on him, as oblivious as you were of its effect.
“’s fine, see you later!” there’s a weird and panicky bout of feeling geto gets, but he’s satisfied with the hum you sound through the door. and once the door clicks behind him, you’re unlocking your own door softly, ensuring your surroundings are safe.
geto wasn’t the only one. between your fingers were his favourite shirt, straight from the dirty laundry of last week’s load; it’s been a reoccuring thing these few weeks after realising you maybe want geto to fuck you silly. you’re sneaking around undetected with it, holding it to your nose, breathing in his natural musk. it was the one shirt you liked on him — always put on when with you — it’s like your secret little joke from that night. and it was so sinful, the way your breath hitches from just his scent, the way your panties pool with arousal.
what would it be like to actually wear it?
the thought crosses your mind and leaves just as fast, heart pounding in your chest when you realise you’ve never tried that before.
peeling off your top, you slip it on carefully, swallowing from how much larger he is than you. the sleeves extend past your elbows by a little, so much cloth on you that you’re a little lightheaded by the possibility of being geto’s, belonging to geto.
“oh god…” you sigh, feeling your pussy throb at the thought, and your hands are shy when they creep in between your thighs. they rub at your clit gently, imagining geto was doing the work instead. he’d be so gentle with his hands, cupping your thighs, spreading your legs.
you’re whining when your fingers find your way into your cunt, nose filled with the scent of geto and head filling with the repeated runnings of his tongue on you, his cock in you, his whole person devoted to you. it’s cute how you don’t know that’s already the case. your fingers are lacklustre as you pump them in and out while your other hand is busy with your clit and you look like a goddess: spread out on your bed in nothing but your roommate’s shirt, a soft, slow melody playing from your phone.
you’re so entranced by the sensations you don’t hear the front door opening and the rustle of the plastic bags (he forgot the reusable bags) containing your groceries, distracted by the phone call he’s having with gojo who teases him through the line. his best friend says stupid crap like she’s definitely into you, too. what her panties smell like? have you guys fucked yet?
the last two was enough for geto to whisper a soft satoru!, clearly displeased with the way he was asking about you, about you both that he only rolls his eyes, muttering an annoyed “i’m hanging up, you pervert. i’ll talk to you later—”
setting down the bags, he frowns again upon seeing the closed door, although not as closed you thought you left it.
“suguru— f-fuck, right there—” geto chokes on his saliva at the moans coming from behind the door, careful not to step on the wrong floorboard below him as he lines up with your room door — a terrifying feat rewarded by your needy whines begging for him. he can hear the wetness of his roommate’s cunt, and he wants to take a peak so bad; so he does just that and stiflies a groan at the sight.
your hair is splayed out all around you, pussy facing the entrance of the door just perfectly and his shirt draped over your body. it sends him into a frenzy, head reeling at seeing his shirt so oversized and so perfect over your body that he swears he cums a little at the display. your cute face scrunched up in pure pleasure, your toes curling around the bedsheets he changed for you.
oh, shit.
and geto panics when your head shoots up, eyes meeting his and your hands halting.
fuck, did i say that out loud?
you’re speechless although your reflexes cause you to close your legs immediately, scooting up the bed like you’ve just got cornered by a predator. it was similar — geto with his big, brooding self, moving slowly into the room with both hands up and a dazed look behind his eyes, you, exposed in the eyes of a hungry man who’s craved you for so many months. you like it.
“you’re— you’re wearing my shirt,” geto gulps, causing you to let out a nervous laugh.
“yea— yeah…”
geto thinks that maybe this is it. this was the moment he’s been holding back on for so long, and so he crosses that boundary into your space, stopping right at the footboard of the bed. you follow suit, going onto your hands and knees and crawling to him that he tilts his head back. everything you do drives him crazy.
suguru’s words is heavy, “you think you’re cute, hm? stealing my shirt and then moaning out my name and fingering your pussy like that…”
your breath shakes, ascending to your knees so you’d reach his height, but not quite. he tugs you closer to him.
“yeah.” it’s so quiet he almost doesn’t hear it, “been wanting you for a long time.”
your roommate hums, lips hovering over yours just by an inch. you’d probably pass out if not for your racing heart and pulsating core.
“yeah?”
you’re finished with words, resorting only to a shy nod before geto crashes his lips onto yours, wrapping the other arm around you as yours go around his neck. it’s messy, filled with drool, devouring you on the spot for teasing him for so long, mouths moving in sync with each other. there’s a soft moan that escapes your mouth when you feel him manhandle you with ease, picking you off the bed to set you down on your back gently.
“c’mon, let’s see the mess you made,” you mewl at the words but your legs are stubborn, still in disbelief at the way suguru treats you, but you let him pry your legs apart after some gentle praises. you stifle a smile when you see how geto exhales at how beautiful your pussy is, leaking from your hole while your puffy clit is begging to be touched.
“oh, she’s so fuckin’ pretty…” your roommate mumbles, intoxicated on your scent as he bends down, giving your cunt one last loving look before he looks to you with a small grin. it’s clear he cannot wait, but he pauses for the words he wants to hear.
“wan’ you to eat me out, sugu,” you’re mumbling and suguru thinks it’s so cute, only responding by giving you a peck on your inner thigh, a soft yeah? before he goes down on you.
geto’s tongue on you is slow and cautious, drawing languid circles around your clit as he plays with your thighs, moaning softly into your core.
“s’damn sweet,” you can feel the stretch of a smile before he resumes, drawing you in slowly with each lick, each suck. geto doesn’t let your arousal go to waste, using a finger to scoop up your juices before he rubs the area around your hole and then the first push into your pussy makes you let out a loud, wanton moan.
“oh— your fingers, sugu, they’re—” they’re so much thicker and longer, everything that you couldn’t feel before now feels too much and yet your cunt gives him his answer by clenching around his longer finger.
“better than yours?” he asks with a lopsided smile.
you huff in indignance — not your fault you had shorter fingers, “yeah.”
“i’ll make full use of ’em, baby,” geto gasps softly when he pushes his finger right to the hilt, obsessed with the way your hand closes around his wrist. “too much?”
you shake your head, “n-no, just— feels too good.”
your roommate laughs softly, “princess is just too sensitive.”
he’s tempted to chuckle again when he sees how the pet names affect you, but soon he’s adding a second finger and pushes in, moving at a slow speed. and then when he adds his mouth into the mix, you’re begging for him to hurry; his eyes flutter close, getting lost in everything that you dish out.
geto’s pace is routine like his life, but it’s not any less pleasurable as he curls his fingers upwards, stretching you out and hitting your spot repeatedly. he continually flicks his tongue and sucks and slurps, tasting your essence once and needing a second, third, fourth, umpteenth taste, bringing out the most delicious moans to fall from your lips. it’s like hearing aphrodite sing, and yet you cross her by miles both in beauty and voice. surely, he shouldn’t mention that out loud, but eros can’t possibly help the arrow puncturing his heart, and looking at his psyche now, he thinks you look absolutely flawless.
“f-feel so good, mmh— so deep, suguru—!” his eyes snap open to look at you with hooded lids, sending you a cheeky wink before he starts to suck on your bundle of nerves, keeping his mouth latched around it as his fingers speed up. the noises of your cunt sucking him in paired with your whines just sound so good, and the scent of his shirt is dizzying, pulling it higher and higher till it pools around your chest. you watch as geto pulls away for a second, gathering saliva in his throat before he spits on your pussy, and the action is so lewd your jaw drops and your hips start to hump against him. 
“ya like that? filthy girl,” geto smiles, rubbing his thumb into your clit and there’s that distinctive build-up in your stomach, coiling and burning until lays his tongue flat onto your cunt, pressing it deep along with the fingers that curl up in your pussy.
“su—” you don’t even have time to tell him, cumming all over his fingers and soaking the sheets, flustered at the in-awe look geto has on his face at how the shirt had ridden up, at how your hands cup your tits and play with your nipples, at how your cunt gushes so sweetly for him. he continues to pump his fingers to let you ride out your orgasm, relishing in the whine you let out when he removes his fingers.
“patience, sweetheart,” geto moves up to reach you, fingers waiting inches away from your lips. you’re taking his fingers into your mouth, keeping eye contact as you wrap your tongue around them and sucking your cum off of him, swearing lowly when you grab his wrist and shove them deeper. “but then again, we’ve been dancing around each other for too long, now.”
you smile at his allusion to the many times that the what-ifs could’ve come true, and yet now you’re tangled up like this in his shirt.
once geto’s underwear comes off, you’re gaping at the cock that he pumps, clearly looking intimidating enough that geto has a hand to your knee and kisses it gently. “we’ll make it fit, alright?”
you nod a little timidly, taking his hand off and twining your fingers, “yeah, i trust you to take care of me.” you make a quick move to remove his shirt but he stops you, saying something embarrassing about wanting to see how cute and small you look in his shirt. you’re scoffing and pushing at him later, you’re just too tall.
he takes care of you perfectly fine — when geto fully sheathes himself in you, he can only focus on your gummy walls that wrap around him fully, his eyes are rolling to the back of his head and you’re grasping at his hands that grab your hips so hard. your roommate fucks you so well, your body limp and your pussy begging to milk him dry that it spills out so much — geto groans into your neck with reddened cheeks at that later.
you’re receiving a noise warning the very next day, alongside a QR code that takes you to a link for soundproof foam, and all you can do is laugh at each other. like routine, geto is already gathering the ingredients for an apology cake, beside him right in that little kitchen in another shirt of his that starts to smell more and more like you—
as his roommate and maybe now, something more.
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part two ♡
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