#cons of knitting: this shit

[the-bluestreak-cat]

For once I can track my train of thought and, boy, puts perspective on stupidity

[monamipencil]

— right here | j.ww

⋆ pairings; wonwoo x fem! reader ⋆ genre; smut, stalker themes, angst, fluff, 90s! au ⋆ w.c; 2.9k+ ⋆ warnings; stalking, a brief non-con talk (doesn't actually happen), masturbating (m.&f.), almost phone sex, stealing of panties, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, he's a bit toxic and an idiot, he's a law student, reader's parents are mentioned as strict and conservative ⋆ a/n; yeah... tried to make it dark and failed miserably. and yes wonwoo reads kafka and you can't change my mind.

stalker! wonwoo who also loves horror movies and hence loves to pull little pranks on you.

“so, gotta boyfriend?” his voice is distorted by the voice changer before it reaches you on the other side. he sighs dreamily, eyes focused on your figure as you cook dinner.

you're not wearing any pants, just an oversized shirt. even though he knows your answer, he waits for you to reply. you blow the soup before tasting it, your landline phone pinched between your shoulder and ear.

“why do you ask?”

wonwoo smiles, leaning against the tree in your backyard. it's almost the same age as you. he knows that. he also knows you live with your parents 'cause they want to protect their little girl from the world. and that you're all alone for tonight, and you share his taste for horror movies.

you move around the kitchen, occupied with the dish. “'could take you out on a date,” he suggests.

you roll your eyes with a scoff, but a small part of you wants to entertain the idea. the idea of going on a date with your digital fling for 3 months does sound enticing. you let the idea sink in as you stir the contents of the pot.

wonwoo groans when you lean your elbows on the counter, giving him a perfect view of your ass. the navy blue underwear, or is it black? he squints his eyes and looks closer. whatever it is, it has him rock-hard beneath his pants.

“did you stub a toe?” you ask with amusement to which he laughs. your visage changes when you realise what he could be doing on the other end. “wait, what are you doing?”

“what do you think i'm doing?” he smirks, watching you move off the counter and closer to the phone body. you twirl the coil cord with your fingers and bite your lip.

“I don't,” you take a deep breath, “know.”

he pulls a cotton underwear from his blazer pocket and presses it to his nose, inhaling your scent. his cock twitches with need, and he suppresses a groan. holding his wireless Nokia 6110 between his shoulder and ear, he undoes his jeans.

it's freezing cold outside, and the risk of mosquitoes is high, but he simply doesn't care. wonwoo pulls his cock out, hissing at the cold air biting his tip. he wraps his fingers around the base, lazily stroking it before wrapping his cock with your underwear that went missing a couple of days ago.

you're at a crossroad in the kitchen. a part of you basks in this debauchery, and the other knows that this very well could be some middle-aged pervert or some 12-year-old messing with you.

“you're so pretty, princess.” he grunts into the phone, hips bucking into his hand.

“you don't even know how I look like..” you trail off, lowkey turned on. wait no! he could be an old man, ew.

he chuckles, eyes darting towards your figure leaning back on the counter with your pouted lips and knitted eyebrows. “maybe..”

wonwoo presses your panties on his tip with his thumb, teasing his slit. his breath quickens and worry looms over your features at his silence.

“you don't know the things I want to do to you.”

you roll your eyes again with a sigh. “really? i wonder what it could be.” the boredom in your tone amuses him.

“I want you to sit on my face,”

a scandalised gasp erupts from your throat before acting nonchalant again. “oh yeah? what else, ghostface?” your breath falters, and your stomach flips. you don't even want to think about what's happening between your legs.

“I'd slowly kiss down your body and make you come undone in all ways.”

well, shit. your legs snap close and bite your lips to stop any embarrassing noises from spilling out. the logical part of you drowns in the wave of horniness that hits you. wonwoo doesn't wait for you to speak and continues.

“I want to strip you bare and make love to you.” his hand movements quicken when he sees you slip a hand down your panties. he sucks in oxygen like he's deprived of it. the cold bites at his skin and his breaths turn foggy, but the thought of you warms him from inside.

your thoughts muddle, and any common sense is thrown out the window when you feel your arousal sticking to your panties. you can't offer him many words, and it brings you embarrassment at how easily you fold. to keep up your facade, you scoff into the speaker but wait for him to speak up.

but the line disconnects, filling you with disappointment and wanting. you place the phone on the cradle and sit down on the floor. the disappointment doesn't deter you from touching yourself to the thoughts of him. you wonder how he sounds in real life and imagine him doing the things he spoke of.

your toes curl as you apply pressure to your clit, rubbing it incessantly. your other hand plays with your nipples, pinching and rolling them over your t-shirt. you try and try but can't climax. you pull out your hands with anger and annoyance.

burying your head in your knees, you think of blocking him but realise he's probably using *67. the hiss of the boiling snaps you back to reality, and you stand up in a hurry to look at the food. you groan, looking at the sad-looking dish staring back at you.

the telephone rings, piling up on your irritated state. “what?” you bark, teeth grinding and knuckles turning white.

“come outside,” a low voice tells you.

“what?” you repeat, softer this time. before the gears in your brain could turn, you find yourself at the front door, turning the knob. it feels like whiplash when your eyes land on the person outside.

“wonwoo? what are you doing here?”

now, why the hell was your ex-boyfriend at your door? and wait.. is he your ghostface?

the possibility—possibility? it's the fucking truth. he's the one who's been calling you anonymously for 3 months and filling the hole in your romantic life. the very hole that he left.

he looks the same—almost the same—but then you notice the faint ring of dark circles, the tiredness in his eyes, and, is that your panties hanging from his blazer pocket?

it doesn't take long for your pent-up emotions to flood your senses and suddenly, you're pulling him in, and locking your hands around his neck. you press your lips to his and let his hands wander your body.

 “wonwoo, fuck!”

you throw your head back on the handrest and tug at his hair roots. his tongue laps at your cunt, and his nose brushes your clit as you lay fully bare on your couch. wonwoo’s grip on your hips holds you down while he slurps and sucks on your hole, tongue prodding inside every now and then.

his soft lips mold with your pussy lips, and his over-grown hair tickles your inner thigh. his hungry eyes meet yours before he pulls away with your fluids glistening on his skin. he ascends on you like a predator sizing up its prey. your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him down.

the soft material of his t-shirt presses against your burning skin, and you feel cold without his warmth. “off,” you huff, tugging at the cloth. he obliges with a smile. soon he joins you on the couch, and feeling his bare skin on yours elicits a variety of emotions from you.

you’re ready to break down and cry but also have the urge to slap him along with the cauterizing need to have him inside you. he stills for a moment, silently looking for reassurance to go ahead. you tilt up your head, kissing him softly and breathing him in. you forgot how intimate it felt to share your breath with another.

wonwoo kisses your forehead and moves back, positioning himself between your legs. “condom?” you croak.

“I don’t have one.”

eyeing the hesitant look on your face, he continues. “I haven’t slept with anyone … after you.”

you crash your lips against his, tongue pushing past his lips. you moan wantonly, and the noises of wet kissing reverberate through your eardrums. you card your fingers through his lush black locks and tilt your head, kissing him deeper and slower.

your core pulsates as his hands rediscover your body. goosebumps rise on your skin when his thumb brushes against your hard nipple, and you shiver, feeling his cock on your thigh. you gasp for air, pulling away. his hands brush down your back to your ass, kneading the flesh beneath his fingers.

wonwoo leans back on the handrest, helping you to position on his cock. you sink down on his cock with his help. you moan in unison when you bottom out. his raw cock kissing your insides sends a flurry of tingles through your body.

you grind down to stimulate your clit. shameless moans escape your lips when he thrusts up, balls slapping against your ass. his hands make a home on your hips as he continues drilling his cock inside you. you throw your hands around his neck, pressing yourself against him. you don’t kiss him but place your lips close to his, and with every moan and whimper, your lips brush against his.

you lose yourself in pleasure, in the way his cock splits you open and in the way he sucks on your nipples. one of his hands moves down to rub your clit as he keeps sucking on your nipple. he moves to the other one, swirling his tongue around the bud.

your body trembles with stimulation, and you bounce on his cock harder, desperately chasing your high. wonwoo detaches from your tits to press a hot kiss against your lips. you moan against his lips, feeling the coil in your stomach tighten with each thrust.

his tip kisses your insides, and your arousal forms a creamy ring around the base of his cock. you're way too gone, lost in the warmth of his hands and the depth of his onyx eyes.

a certain thrust and the rubbing of his hand has you trembling above him. your legs give out, and you rest your head on his shoulder, trying to catch your breath.

“I can't—I,” wonwoo shushes you and repositions his hands on your ass, gripping it as he thrusts upwards into your cunt. the sheer force of his thrusts makes you whimper and dig your fingernails into his broad shoulders.

“wonu,” you draw out his name as your face contorts in pleasure.

“yes, princess?” the nickname never fails to fluster you, and the rich timbre of his voice sends a shiver down your spine. he leaves hot, open-mouthed kisses on your neck and chest.

“please, I want to—want to cum.”

he nibbles on your earlobe, wetting the skin with his tongue. “mhm. but bad girls don't get to cum.”

“bad girl?” you whimper, “but I didn't do anything!”

“y'sure, princess?”

“yes!”

“you started talking to a stranger on the phone. yes, it was me. but you weren't aware.” you whine when he slows his pace to a stop. you clench around his length, chasing for some friction.

“you started locking your windows. I thought you liked it when I used to climb into your room through your window—”

you cut him off, “you broke up with me for your stupid friends!”

“and.. I left it open for the first few days after you left...” your voice reduces to a whisper.

“I'm sorry, princess.” he starts. “but it seemed like you moved on with your little church boy,” he hisses through his teeth, voice lacing with venom.

“joshua is my friend.” you hiss back.

wonwoo clicks his tongue, hating the taste of his name on your tongue. the chances of you kicking him out if this keeps up are high. so he changes the topic.

“y'k how badly I wanted to climb into your room? to take off your blankets, and push aside your panty. you would like that wouldn't you?”

“for me to have my way with you while you're asleep? even if you wake up, you'll let me hit it like a slut, right?”

your pussy flutters around his cock and you whine, hitting his chest. wonwoo smirks and leans into your ear, “dirty, dirty princess.” his voice drops an octave.

“I was peeping on you all this time. you wore my shirts, princess? love me that much? hmm?”

you hide your face in his shoulders but feel his smile radiating through his voice. “fuck you.”

“you are,” he grips your hips, pulling out halfway before slamming his cock back in. your slick arousal drips down your thighs, uncomfortably. his cock stretches your gummy walls and the coil in your stomach tightens.

it's hard to adjust to his animalistic pace and you're overwhelmed. lust and passion clouds your senses and the coil snaps. the orgasm crashes over you and your lewd moans fill the room. your body trembles above his and you grip onto him for dear life.

your first orgasm in three months is mind-numbing. wonwoo continues to thrust, chasing his orgasm. he grunts when you violently clench around his length, forcing him to cum.

warm ropes of cum decorate your walls and the wet sounds of sex halts as he pulls you closer. he rests his forehead on yours, sharing his breath with you.

by the time you calm down, you're flooded with shame and the reality of what just happened. his arms and the sound of his heartbeat is no longer comforting. removing his arms around you, you stand up.

you hiss and clench your thighs at the ache between them. his essence drips out of your hole down your thighs, a reminder of what you just did.

wonwoo sits up, worry filling his system as he watches slip on your t-shirt and move away from the couch. he wants to say something, but what can he say? hey, sorry for leaving you and stalking you. 'think we can get back together?

he cringes at himself and watches helplessly as you move towards the vinyl record holder. you pull out a vinyl he recognises and place it on the player.

‘The Chain’ by Fleetwood Mac fills the room, and you walk back to the couch, sitting with space between you two. the soft strum of guitar and drums calms his nerves.

“why?” you fiddle with your fingers, refusing to look at him as you ask. he sighs and shifts a little closer, t-shirt covering his body and glasses back on. “I,” he sucks in a sharp breath.

“I had doubts about … us.”

“I didn't think we'd work out and my friends seemed to agree. I—I'm sorry.” he holds his gaze down with shame.

“it was stupid, i know. but I thought our differences won't work out.”

“how can you decide it before anything actually happens?” you bark at him, your heart clenches with frustration.

“I—”

‘and if you don't love me now, you will never love me again’

wonwoo cringes inwardly. who would have thought that the song he used to dance with you to would represent his life now? he cannot find words to express what he wants to say. two years of majoring in law and literature down the drain.

he simply moves closer till his thighs press against yours and leans his head on your shoulders. “did you only miss me for my body?”

“no!” his defense comes a bit stronger, and he hugs you closer. “no. it's not like that. I missed you.”

‘I can still hear you saying you would never break the chain’

you take his face in your hands, kissing his lips softly. but you break it as soon as your lips meet and drag him upstairs to your room. your grip on his tighter, harsher, like you're trying to prove a point.

wonwoo doesn't protest that he's naked and lets you drag him away. reaching your room, you pull him inside and show him the stacks of books lining your nightstand.

he adjusts his glasses and squints at the books. he saw you buying books and reading them almost every night. he wondered how your conservative parents suddenly allowed you to read books, let alone ... law books?

“law books. I fought with my parents and bought them, just so that we could talk about it because I don't know shit about law!”

you're sobbing, tears cascading down your cheeks, and he feels his heart skip a beat or two. his eyes dart towards the other books on your shelf, Sherlock Holmes and Kafka, his favorites too.

he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. he smiles at your faux protests and holds you softly.

wonwoo doesn't tell you but he has his own collection of Fleetwood Mac vinyl records lining up in his shelf. he bought Delta of Venus and A Spy in the House of Love, even though he doesn't like the vulgarity of the books you secretly read.

he holds you closer, and for anyone who looks into your windows, they'd only see the silhouette of a single person. your sobs quiet down, and he whispers soft apologies into your skin.

and wonwoo discovers that love is simple after all. love is reading Law and Kafka in your moonlit room filled with '60s rock music.

tags; @seungkwanschicken @aaa-sia @dokyeomkyeom @bangantokchy @jespecially

@asyre @armycarat2612 @bewoyewo @gyuguys @embrace-themagic

@aaniag (send an ask to be added on the taglist!)

[textmel8r]

[ DRABBLE ] 𝐎𝐅𝐅𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 ! ( fourth installment ) in which you are forced to plan a corporate event with your office enemy .

୨୧˚ part; one. two. three. four. five. six. seven. eight. nine. ten. eleven.

୨୧˚ incl; kento nanami

୨୧˚ cw; smut (?) , dub-con , alcohol consumption , profanity

( flashback; ) Wreaths and holly plants decked the usually barren, white walls of the seventh floor office level, and soft Christmas music looped on the overhead speaker in attempts to induce a jolly spirit. Colleagues conversed, discussing plans for December break over plastic cups of spiked cider. Everyone seemed in high morale; even Gakuganji, who donned a cheaply made Santa suit, still wrinkled from its time being folded in a package. Your first ever office party was about as much as you expected–not the worst time, but certainly not the best time, either. It didn’t help that you were still technically the “newbie” despite having been a member of the company for a few months at that point. Man, it was hard to make friends in an office full of stoic suits.

You remain near a far wall, slumped against the oversized copy machine with a drink in hand. Nobody had even appreciated your dress; a modest crimson thing with white, cottony trims to mimic Old Saint Nick. Figures. You pout into your cup, knocking back a heavy swig.

“Woah-ho, you sure went all out.”

The dialogue was unexpected and you sputter on a swallow of liquor, startled. A preemptive hand pats your back, something like a mother trying to burp a newborn. You swallow your spit at last, recollect yourself, and whip your head up to follow the source of the voice that nearly killed you. There stood a man tall and spindly in his stature with the most beautifully long, goldish hair drawn back into a ponytail. He is dressed down, wearing a simple pair of dark jeans and a sweater in favor of the suits nearly everyone else sported. 

“You shouldn’t sneak up on ladies,” comes your meager reply. Your free hand smooths down the skirt of your dress, and you clear your throat. “You scared the shit out of me.”

The man smiles apologetically. “Ah, I noticed. My bad.”

“It’s okay. Just… just don’t do it again.”

“Roger that.” He has his own drink, and you manage to catch a glimpse of it over the rim of the solo cup. It’s a dark, murky color, much more amberish than the cider that was being served. “I haven’t seen your face around before, it made me curious.”

“I secured a position here during spring.” Now that you think about it, he was unfamiliar to you as well. You would have definitely remembered that ponytail. “Are you–I mean, do you work in this building?”

He shakes his head. “Nah, they got me holed up in the Shibuya location,” he winks, leaning in. “I make it a habit to come to all the office parties, though. I can’t resist a little holiday cheer.” Two bony knuckles move to brush delicately against the trim of your dress. “I’m Haruta Shigemo, and you’re…?”

“Not interested.” 

Shigemo juts his bottom lip out. “C’mon, don’t be like that. I can’t know your name?”

Holding an index finger to your chin, you pretend to think about it. “What will you give me in return?”

A smirk worms its way onto Shigemo’s thin lips. He angles his hip toward you and pulls up the hem of his knitted sweater, gesturing to the uncanny flask half sticking out of his jeans’ pocket. “I brought good stuff,” he sings quietly, away from prying ears, and suddenly you understand the reason for his drink being a couple shades too dark. “And I’m good at sharing.”

Yeah, maybe it wasn’t the wisest decision to accept unknown liquor from a virtual stranger, you should’ve really considered all of the possible outcomes to this situation. You’d already had a little over two cups of warmed cider, rotating on the axis between tipsy and full on drunkenness. Your foggy brain didn’t care much to think about how some of this so-called “good stuff” would only lead to an inevitable, total inebriation. Or, a less likely but just as concerning scenario, Shigemo’s flask could be chock full of poison. Either way, you were itching to turn a less-than-okay party experience into a fun one.

“Y/n L/n,” you said finally, and Shigemo looks pleased. Strategically as to not give away the secret, he stood before you and widened his shoulders to create a makeshift cover while he poured a solid few glugs from flask to your cup. Immediately, the booze reeks of something strong like industrial glass cleaner. Your nose wrinkles as the stench singes the hair from your nostrils. “Smells fucking rancid.”

“Maybe you’re just not used to top shelf liquor?” Was that a dig? You’ll show him that you’re plenty accustomed with expensive booze (you’re not. not at all).

So you drank it. The taste of piss mixed with vinegar nearly made you retch, but after your second glass and an assload of determination, it started to taste… good? Maybe this Shigemo guy wasn’t too bad. The rest of the night was a blur of silly dancing to dumb Christmas songs, ugly laughing at the horse calendars pinned to the wall, and… well, the bathroom.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” Your tone was breathy, a cross between giggly and pure apprehension. There in the men’s restrooms, you were perched up on the sink counter. That festive dress was slipped up around your hips by two slender, greedy hands, and a tiny waist worked between your thighs. Shigemo kissed you into silence.

“Why not?” He kisses you again, fumbling with his belt buckle. He’s nipping down your neck, whispering, “The risk is so fucking hot.”

And oh goodness, was he a man on a mission. Tearing the collar of your dress down beneath your breasts, fingering holes into your sheer stockings, stuffing a fist inside your panties… You were in no state of coherence to stop him.

Had it not been a professional obligation on his part to attend this year’s Christmas party, Nanami finds himself fantasizing about all the ways he’d much rather be spending this brisk winter evening. Probably soaking in his tub, nursing a glass of red wine and working on that book he’d been putting off thanks to the ungodly amount of work on his plate as of late. Then, he’d exercise those cooking skills he seldom had time to use and prepare a meal that had much more to offer than these feeble, sugary snacks at this party. Seriously? Cookies and cake? They were adults for goodness sake.

The floor was stuffy and claustrophobia-inducing. Everywhere he turned, Nanami was accidentally bumping somebody with his shoulder or his elbow or some other limb he lost track of. And the conversations were abysmal. Nanami has always been good with his words—he had to be in a profession like this—but Christ, talking to his zombies-for-coworkers was a worse fate than death itself. They drone on about office assignments, about deadlines and paperwork with no hint of light behind their eyes. Is that what he looks like to others? A worrisome thought, that Nanami was just as much of a slave to the corporate world as they were.

The deep train of thought is cut off before it spirals when red catches his eye. A dress red as rubies sticks out like a sore thumb among the sea of blacks and blues and grays of suits. You’re dressed in a silly get up, like those Mrs. Claus actresses in the malls that take pictures with children. Y/n L/n, Nanami recalls your name. He knows you, the newest employee in the office. He’s had very few chances to speak with you, and when he did it mostly consisted of him relaying orders from Mr. Gakuganji. But even in those brief instances, Nanami saw it plain as day: you were different. The first lively fool he’d seen in a while, eyes still glinting with the prospects of optimism and naive hope for the future. Foolish indeed, but he couldn’t bring himself to hate it. You were a breath of fresh air, but Nanami knew that it was only a matter of time before you were beaten and battered into another mindless cog in the corporation's machine.

A strange urge bloomed within the hollows of the man's chest; an urge that told him to initiate communication with you. Perhaps just a "hello" at the very least, seeing as you were his direct subordinate. It was the polite thing to do, right? Or maybe that was just a weak excuse he convinced himself of because Nanami didn't want to admit that you intrigued him in every sense of the word. You would provide an interesting back and forth, something Nanami desperately craved in the throes of this tedious party.

Golden eyes scanned the room. But no matter how long and meticulous he stared into the mass of bodies, Nanami could not locate the shade of red that had incited this search to begin with. There was a muted pit of disappointment the settled heavy in his stomach when he came to the realization that you simply were gone. He didn't doubt the probability that you ditched, no, he'd commend you for doing something he could not. Nanami sighs under his breath, lets his shoulders droop, and takes the last swig of his drink (water of course, the spiked cider was much too sweet for his tastes) before maneuvering through the crowd towards the bathroom. A five minute breather alone in a stall sounded like Heaven on Earth.

He shouldered through the metallic door, eyes closed, fingers tugging the knot of his too-tight tie as he stepped inside the restrooms. Only the sound of a feminine gasp was what pried his heavy eyelids open.

All three bodies froze: Nanami by the entrance with a slack jaw and wide eyes, a man he vaguely recalls from the Shibuya district stood between a pair of opened legs with his jeans tugged down to mid-thigh, and you. You, with your stupidly red dress in disarray, the neckline dipped below your bare breasts and the lower hem bunched up around the curve of your waistline. There you were, sitting up on the sink completely exposed... God, that bastard's hand was still buried down the front of your panties.

As if time suddenly unfroze, said bastard rips his hands away from your most delicate parts in favor of pulling his jeans back up. Nanami blinks once before cocking his head to the side at the unnatural speed of light, focusing on the faux plant in the corner, the uneven tiles beneath his dress shoes, the cracks in the eggshell paint on the wall... anything besides your indecent self.

"Whoops, would ya' look at that?" Shibuya fucker laughs halfheartedly as he fumbles with the button on his jeans, flustered and giggly. "Guess we got a little carried away there, my bad man!" He slinks towards the door, towards Nanami, but pauses. "Hey, you're Nanami Kento, right?"

"Yes." It's a cold response. Nanami doesn't look to the other man, instead he keeps his eyes trained down as to not get another eyeful of you.

"Aha right! Well," Shibuya fucker sweatdrops, clasping a hand over Nanami's shoulder. "Let's keep this a secret from the higher ups?"

The elder grimaces. "Please don't touch me."

The hand is ripped away. Shibuya fucker shows his palms in sort of a defensive stance as more anxious chuckles erupt from his throat. "Good seeing you, then!" And with that, he slips out of the bathroom leaving you high and dry. The prick didn't even bother to stay and help you get recollected.

"I'm decent." You sound meek, a tone Nanami has yet to hear from you thus far. It sounds small. Humiliated. "You... you can look now."

So he does, only to regret it. There you are, hopped off the sink and standing before him in a pitiful display. Your slender neck was tainted with love marks, darkened bruises bit into flesh with little artistry. Your stockings were shredded carelessly, bits of plumpness squishing through the holes. Your hair was mussed, forehead sweaty, lipstick smeared and... why was Nanami so irritated by the sight?

"What..." He starts, trying to find the words. "What is the matter with you?"

You gawk. "Nothing."

"Nothing." Nanami scoffs, hands pressed to his hips. "How careless could you possibly be? Fucking at a work event? I mean, for fuck's sake Y/n."

"I'm sorry, okay?" Your words are clipped. As if you have any right to catch an attitude with him right now.

"Sorry doesn't change the fact that you..." His sentence trails off into a tiny, frustrated growl scratching from the back of his tongue. The man takes his nose bridge between his thumb and forefinger. "The door was unlocked. Anyone could've walked in and saw you like that!" Exposed. Bare. Vulnerable.

"I don't know what else you want to hear other than sorry." Nanami doesn't miss the microscopic vocal crack in the word sorry. You hug yourself tight, forearms crossed over your chest. Your shoulders stutter, and your lips are sucked between your teeth to hide the wobble in them. "I'm... sorry."

You dress strap hangs off your shoulder. Nanami can't peel his gaze away from the strip of fabric. He takes a slow step in, gauging your reaction to it. You don't show any signs of discomfort, so he advances closer. The red strap is dainty against his rough fingers, so he cautions himself to be extra gentle when slipping it back up into place.

"Thanks," you sniffle.

He shushes you. Nanami isn't done yet, far from it. You still look disheveled and sad and weepy and he can't fucking stomach it for some ungodly reason. So he gets to work, first wetting a paper towel in the bathroom sink—the same one you'd been getting groped on a mere few minutes prior—and gingerly swipes away the smeared makeup from your kiss-swollen lips. Then, he's taking it upon himself to straighten out your hair. You let him stroke down your baby hairs without pushback, limply letting him rearrange your appearance as if you were some sort of life sized doll.

Nanami steps back to admire his work. The evidence of foreplay was nearly gone, save for the dreadful state of your stockings and those ugly teeth-shaped indents down the side of your neck. “Take those stockings off before you leave the bathroom,” he utters. “They look…” Slutty is the word that comes to mind first, but he’d never say it aloud. So he leaves it at that.

You’re looking at him with an unreadable expression. If anything, Nanami discerns a little concern in the way your brows turn upwards. “Are you going to tell anyone about this?”

He wants to oh so bad. To be the lame tattletale and snitch to Mr. Gakuganji because fraternization is wrong, and fraternization in the workplace is double wrong. “I should report you,” there’s a pregnant pause, “but I won’t.”

Why? He asks himself.

You seemed to have read his thoughts. “Why?”

Nanami doesn’t have an answer to that. Where is this slice of mercy coming from? All he knows for certain is that staring at the trembling woman in front of him any longer will have him blow a fuse. “Go home, Y/n.” It’s the last thing he offers before turning on his heel and walking back out into the Christmas function, swallowing down each and every confusing feeling swirling around his brain.

likes and reblogs are appreciated !

tags . • @justbelljust @amnmich @ti-mame @silkija @maddietries @vyntagei @ebrysteria @aesukuni

[steddielations]

Staying the night, cuddling well into the morning is entirely new to Eddie when he starts dating Steve.

He hasn’t been with many guys. Favors exchanged behind a club building were quick and done. Meaningless and he didn’t mind, got used to it because that’s just how it is for people like Eddie.

No chance of going steady with someone, holding hands through a field of roses, that romantic shit wasn’t in the cards for him so he convinced himself he didn’t want it anyway. The couple of guys he’s managed to get a room with were gone by the time he woke up. Even when he thought there was something more, only to wake up alone with a cold pillow.

So with Steve, he loves being the big spoon, wrapping all four limbs around him, clinging to him so he can’t go anywhere. Not that Steve would, he never pulls away, never leaves, he loves being held as much as Eddie loves holding him. Eddie knows he won’t wake up alone, he gets the best sleep of his life with Steve in his arms. Just feeling Steve there with him, still.

Then once, Eddie’s half asleep when Steve comes over after working a late shift. Eddie’s too sleepy to turn around, mumbling “hey sweehar” and Steve shushes him, climbing in, sliding an arm over his waist and gently tugging Eddie against him.

Eddie sighs blissfully when Steve noses through his hair to kiss the back of his neck. He’s too tired to process all the little bursts of warmth firing off at the feeling of being held. He just melts into it, falling asleep easier than ever.

Then when he wakes up in the morning, still wrapped in Steve’s arms, he’s rocked with emotions welling in his chest. Steve’s arm is still tucked over Eddie’s stomach, leg slotted between Eddie’s, nose pressed against Eddie’s shoulder, snoozing softly.

Intimacy is everywhere, snug against his body, filling his stomach with fuzzy warmth. There in Steve’s arms, held through the night, Eddie feels so kept.

No one’s ever held onto Eddie before.

Guys don’t do that to Eddie. He’s not the one they hold onto, the one they keep. He’s the one they hide, the one they leave alone in an alley or a cold bed. The one they can’t get away from fast enough and fucking forget. Eddie was fine with that because he never expected anything more.

Eddie wasn’t prepared to be loved by Steve Harrington.

It’s ridiculous. A fairytale. Eddie Munson who crawled through seedy bars and back alleys somehow conned his way into the most loving arms imaginable. It’s so fucking ridiculous.

He starts laughing. Chuckling hysterically into his pillow. The whole bed starts to shake and so does Eddie. His laughs turn wet, a mix of cackling and sobbing bubbles from his throat.

Steve stirs awake, looking over Eddie’s shoulder, “Eddie … Baby, what’s wrong?” He asks softly, gathering Eddie’s hair from the tears on his cheeks and tucking it behind his ear.

Another wave of laughs and sobs. Eddie battled monsters with Metallica and somehow dating Steve is the most insane thing to happen to him.

Finally, Eddie says with a happily overwhelmed exhale, “I love you and you love me.”

Steve blinks, “What’s so wrong with that?”

“Nothing just,” Eddie looks up at him, propped on his elbow still perfect somehow with bed hair, looking down at Eddie like he’s the precious thing here. So, so ridiculous. “Shit like this doesn’t happen to me. You weren’t supposed to happen to me.”

Steve’s brows knit curiously, and Eddie really can’t explain it more than that. He’s just having a damn moment. He almost died not too long ago, now he’s got all this life and love coming out of nowhere at him, it fucks him up sometimes.

Steve gets it, reassuring after a moment, “Well it’s happening, Munson. You got me now and I’ve got you.”

Eddie laughs, still a little wet and pulls Steve’s arm over him, snuggling back against his chest. Steve tightens his hold and Eddie settles into the way it feels to be something worth holding in Steve’s arms.

“Yeah just…” Eddie says, voice small, “Just keep me, Steve. Okay?”

Steve presses kisses to his shoulder and up his neck, soft but with so much feeling behind them, “You’ll have to pry me off with a crowbar.”

Eddie snorts and yeah. He really likes being Steve’s little spoon.

For @steddie-week day 2: fluff and/or angst

[lambtotheslaughterr]

One Way Or Another

A Rafe Cameron Oneshot

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 16.5k (just for a second, holy fuck. spent all day writing this. from 10 am to 8pm. i am feeling good & feel like i'm on a writer's high. thank you to all of you who made this happen: 62 pages of pure dark fiction)

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

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Summary: Reader's life couldn't be any better. She's working her dream job, living with her best friend, & may have met the one... but none of those things matter when her bestfriend/roommate begins seeing a volatile man from reader's past...

            It was Coyote Ugly night at your work, & you made sure to request the night off weeks in advance. There would be nothing to stop you from singing your heart out to the soundtrack of the movie as it played in the bar or dancing on the bar with your friends, not even having your coworkers & boss witnessing it all unfold. Ever since you were a little girl, you wanted to be a bartender all because of the film. It inspired your fashion choices, your music tastes, & most importantly, your attitude.

            As soon as you turned 21, you applied to every single bar in your area. And before that, you practiced your cocktail making, just enough to at least get hired. You knew without experience, it was difficult to land a job as a bartender. If you had to accept a position working at a hotel bar or fine dining bar, you’d take it, anything to get the experience, but your long-term goal was to find a bar with the same energy & vibes as your favorite movie. Your wish came true a year later.

            The Garage was just that. It was inside an old auto-shop with three large garage doors. During summer nights, those doors would be raised & they led out into the enclosed patio area where a stage had been built for nights when live music would be happening. The owner, as much as you wanted it to be a tough-as-nails woman like Lil in Coyote, was an older man in his 50’s named Rosie. Yes, Rosie. His full name Roosevelt but he had been going by Rosie since he entered the bar business. It was your first favorite thing about him.

            Rosie ran a tight-knit crew at The Garage. He was a no-bullshit haver but knew how to have a good time. It was him who trained you behind the bar, switching you up from making prissy, fancy shit & teaching you how to make a real drink, as he said. You loved him. And you loved your family there. Everyone accepted you & welcomed you with open arms & cold beer. It was all you could have ever dreamed for. And now, you were going to live out your ultimate fantasy.

            It thankfully didn’t take a whole lot of convincing on your part to get Rosie to agree to a Coyote Ugly night. You advocated for how it would bring in a good crowd, good money, & good times. Moreover, you promised to do all the leg work. You would take it upon yourself to work alongside the social media handler, Rosie’s daughter Angie who worked in the office alongside her father, to get word out & generate interest. A week before the event was supposed to happen, you had a guaranteed 100+ people wanting to attend. There was no RSVP, but just an event page on Facebook, & your work had paid off. The night was happening, & you would be at the center of it all.

            At your apartment that night, you got ready for the night. You admired your look in the mirror, scenes from the bar film playing through your mind. You smiled proudly at yourself. You look damn good.

            But your night would only be complete if you convinced your best friend, & roommate, to come with. As far as that morning, she was still on the fence. But the time was now. She was either coming or not, & if you had anything to say about it, she would be forced along.

            Leaving your room, you skipped down the hallway before turning a corner & entering the living room. Jules’ room was just off the living room, kitty corner from your room on the other side of the apartment. You were grateful for the distance, but only because you both were sexually active women & didn’t need to hear each other get your kicks in.

            Jules’ door was open & you swung around the frame, poking your head in.

            “Tell me you’re coming!” You hollered, noticing the door to her en suite bathroom was open & the light on, but she was out of sight.

            “Uhhh.” Jules laughed awkwardly, “No?”

            No? N O ?Well. You wouldn’t be having that.

            Entering her room, you marched up to her bathroom entryway, prepared to bribe her into coming, but before you could get a word out, you felt your jaw drop onto the floor.

            Jules stood in the center of her bathroom, posing with her hand on her hips & hiding her coy smile behind a lifted shoulder.

            “Wow.” You grinned, impressed, “You look fucking hot.”

            She was wearing a torn cropped lack crop top, the sleeves & hem shredded, & a mini, mini black leather skirt. To bring the whole look together, she wore a pair of black cowgirl boots & a black cowgirl hat. You giggled at the bolo tie around her neck.

            “Do I look like someone not to be fucked with?”

            “Hundred percent.”

            Jules scrunched her nose cutely, turning to look at herself in the mirror, “Good.”

            You joined her in the mirror, double checking your own look. You definitely didn’t look as man-eater as she did but you were still happy with what you wore. The two of you would undoubtedly be some of the hottest women there tonight.

            “Ready?” You questioned as you applied some of her lipstick to your mouth.

            Jules winked at herself in the mirror, “As I’ll ever be.”

            The night was in full swing as you danced among people. Dirrty by Christina Aguilera vibrated the room as you swung your hips & ran your hands along the length of your torso. Never before have you felt more like yourself than you did in that moment. Everywhere you looked there was women in backless tops, leather pants or denim skirts, a plethora of country rock fashion choices, & plenty of good-looking men. The only thing that would make this night better was bringing a stranger home for the night.

            Sweat coated your skin as you moved off the dance floor between songs. You had curated the playlist for the night. There was over 150 songs on the queue, all of which were either from the soundtrack or had a similar, fitting feel for the night. You knew that any moment Pour Some Sugar On Me by Def Leppard would come on & you were determined to drag Jules onto the bartop with you.

            Sliding between the sea of people, you eventually spotted Jules standing at a tall table near the patio entrance. She was facing you but hadn’t noticed you yet as she spoke flirtatiously with the man standing across from her. He had his back to you & was leaning over the table to hear what your roommate was saying. Jules laughed, smacking him gently on his arm. You knew that you wouldn’t be the only one bringing a man home tonight.

            As apologetic as you were to break up their conversation though, you had a goal in mind, & no potential suitor for your roommate was going to stop you.

            “Jules!” You greeted happily as you jumped towards her, “It’s almost time.”

            “Oh, hey, _____.” Jules smiled at you, “_____, this is Rafe.”

            But before she had even said his name, you were already looking him over & felt your world slow down at the familiar face standing before you.

            It had been a couple years since you last saw Rafe Cameron. You two were in the same grade in high school & attended a lot of the same parties, but you two never spoke to one another. He had a reputation in the halls as a cokehead & was known to snap at a moment’s notice & get into a brawl over the smallest of things. Definitely wasn’t the kind of person you wanted to hangout with. But you had to admit he knew how to throw good parties.

            “Rafe, this is my roommate _____.”

            Rafe smirked at you before offering his hand, “Nice to meet you.”

            You took his hand, ignoring the static shock you received when touching your palms together, “Likewise.”

            Jules was about to say more but the opening instrumentals to your most-anticipated song of the night began playing over the speakers.

            “Sorry, Rafe. I gotta steal her for a couple minutes.” Before Jules could resist, you began dragging her towards the bar.

            “Hey! I was talking to him!”

            “Talk to him later, this is way more important.”

            Jules then realized what was happening & started shaking her head knowingly, “You’re lucky I fucking adore you.”

            “The luckiest.” You smiled back.

            The two of you were quick to climb onto the bar where a few other women were already dancing to Pour Some Sugar On Me. Jules & you were naturals at dancing, having many dance nights in your living room. You danced sensually to the song as it blared over the speakers. Your cheeks hurt from smiling as hard as you were, enjoying the ooh’s & awe’s of men & women alike as they cheered all the women on. You spotted a few of your coworkers behind the bar filming you on their phones. You’d be sure to get those videos sent to you before the night was out.

            Jules slowly fell to her knees to whip her hair around her as she bumped & grinded the air to the music. You reached behind the bar to grab a pitcher of water & did the honors of pouring water on her as the first chorus blasted. Jules’ dancing & your pouring elicited an eruption of cheers. When the first chorus was over, Jules returned to her feet & the two of you danced seductively against one another. All eyes were on the two of you as you stole the show. Your lifelong dream of being a Coyote was coming true before your own eyes.

The song continued & by the time the final chorus came it was your turn to have everyone cheer for you. Jules’ was handed another pitcher of water & as the famous Pour Some Sugar On Me chorus began, you modeled yourself atop the bar. Your butt was down & your legs extended out the length of the bar. You were facing up, your arms holding you up behind your back, your legs bent at the knees. Then as the titular moment of the song happened, Jules poured the ice cold water over you.

A wave of cheers & enthusiasm erupted throughout the bar. When Jules finished pouring the water, you repositioned yourself to crawl along the length of the bar, catching eyes & stealing hearts. You spotted one man sitting at the bar, his eyes never leaving your own. He was cute, more than cute, he was Kevin O’Donnell cute. Your Coyote Ugly dreams were demanding you to end your performance in his lap.

The man grinned to himself as you swung your legs around to dangle off the bar on either side of him. He leaned back in his seat to stare up at you, a closed smirk across his handsome features. As the song closed, you slid off the bar & into his lap. With no introductions needed, you tangled your fingers in his hair at the nape of his neck & brought his mouth to yours, sealing the night with a kiss from a perfect stranger.

            His name was Jack. He was new to town. You were happy to be his welcoming committee.

            “What you did up there was…” He laughed, raising his brows in knowing.

            “I know.” You giggled, nursing your drink.

            After your kiss, Jack insisted on buying you a drink & you couldn’t say no. Jules’ hugged you once before returning to her object of desire. You were too distracted by your own man to question her own.

            “So, you work here?” Jack asked, looking around the place.

            You nodded proudly, taking in the environment, “It’s my second home.”

            “I like the energy. Seems fun.”

            “It is.” You confirmed, “Couldn’t have asked for a better place to work.”

            The two of you talked for a bit longer before you were interrupted. Jules slid in beside you at the table you & Jack were sat at, & her man for the night, the reputable bad boy from your high school, took the spot opposite her. You didn’t miss how his eyes lingered on your face for some time. You frowned internally but ultimately ignored it as you turned to your best friend.

            “Are you drunk?” You asked incredulously. It took a lot to get Jules drunk, she was a prime time heavy weight, & she was fine when you saw her only ten minutes ago.

            Jules pressed her lips together, smiling knowingly up at you, “Maybe.”

            “What the hell did you drink?” You chuckled as she rested her head on your shoulders.

            “We took a couple shots at the bar.” Rafe added to the conversation. You flashed your eyes towards him, taking in his appearance.

            “You look fine.” You pointed out, yet your heavy weight best friend was growing more drunk by the second.

            “I just hide it better.” Rafe smirked. His face was flushed. And after working in the bar industry for the last two years, you did know men’s bodies handled liquor better than women’s. So, you let it go.

            “Do you wanna head home?” You shook Jules.

            She shrugged but her eyes were fluttering closed.

            You felt disappointed but didn’t show it. The night was still young, you had yet to even partake in the karaoke aspect of the night, but Jules wasn’t going to last much longer, chugging water be damned.

            “Jack,” you glanced across to him, “I’m sorry, I’m gonna have to get her home.”

            “I understand.” He nodded, pulling out his phone, “Let me at least get your number. Maybe you can give me a tour of town.”

            You smiled at that, sharing your number to him out loud. Once he entered it into his phone, you told him you looked forward to his call & began to get out of your seat. But as you did, your world began to spin.

            “Whoa.” You mumbled, catching yourself on the table. You must’ve had more to drink than you thought.

            “You alright?” Jack asked, rising to his full height to help stabilize you.

            You nodded but you weren’t, “I’m a lightweight. Guess I drank more than I thought I had.”

            Jack grabbed your jacket, “Do I need to order you a Lyft?”

            You shook the offer away. But you couldn’t drive. Jules didn’t have a car so it was you who got the two of you there tonight. You glanced over your shoulder at the bar, wondering if maybe you could convince one of your coworkers to give you a ride but they were still slammed. The bar wouldn’t die down for a couple more hours.

            “I’m sorry, Jack. Would it be shitty of me to ask you to drive my drunk ass & my roommate’s drunk ass home?”

            Jack chuckled at that but ultimately shook his head no, “I don’t have a car. Don’t really need one here, ya know.”

            You nodded at that. It was true.

            “Fuck.” You moaned. Your head was growing dizzier by the second.

            Most times you would bite the bullet & cough up the money to pay for an expensive Lyft, but with rent due in two days, you didn’t have the funds. And you didn’t work tonight so no tips would help.

            “I can drive you.” A voice sounded from the other end of the table. Both you & Jack looked towards Rafe as he pulled out his keys.

            “I thought you had a lot to drink, too?” Jack questioned. You were relieved he wasn’t too trusting of Rafe immediately either.

            “Not really.” Rafe returned, his eyes on you though, “You want the ride or not? She looks like she’s gonna be sick any minute.”

            At that statement, you bent over to look at Jules. He was right. Her skin was looking ashen & she was frowning in her sleep. The last you wanted to worry about was her puking before you got her to her bed with a bowl on the floor.

            “Okay.” You nodded, accepting your jacket from Jack’s hands. “Thanks.”

            Jack helped you gather the rest of yours & Jules’ things. He attempted to help you carry her outside but your legs were beginning to grow weaker, your strength quickly dissipating.

            “I got it.” Jack reassured you as he lifted Jules into his arms cradle style.

            “Hey, uh.” Jack looked towards Rafe.

            “Rafe.” He shared his name. Jack nodded then gestured to where you stood leaning against the wall, “Wanna help her?”

            You raised your head at that. Rafe approached you, offering his hand.

            “I got it.” You faked, forcing yourself to stand up. Rafe made an unimpressed face but you ignored it. Just outside the door to the parking lot though you felt your knees buckle. Before you could hit the ground, you felt a strong & firm arm catch you around the waist.

            “Just lean on me. My truck’s right there.”

            As much as you didn’t want Rafe’s help, still unsure why you were feeling hostile towards him, you knew you needed to. Accepting his help, you leaned into his side as he kept you on your feet. A truck a few feet away beeped & the headlights flashed. Jack was ahead the two of you, waiting for Rafe to help him get Jules’ into the back seat.

            Rafe first brought you to the passenger side, helping you up into the cab. Your movements were slow & languid, like you were already half asleep. You shook your head, trying to clear your mind enough to fasten your belt, but before you could, Rafe reached across your front to secure the protective strap.

            “Thanks.” You mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

            “No problem.” He shut your door gently before joining Jack on the other side. You vaguely listened as the two men got Jules into the backseat before the door shut.

            By the time they finished, Rafe was quick to hop into the driver’s seat. You were holding your head in your hands, trying to keep your vision from swimming. Fuck, you really needed to keep better track of your drinking, but you were just having too much fun.

            The door to your side opened & Jack was there, “You gonna be okay?”

            You hummed in response, not trusting yourself to speak, worried that your speech would be slurred.

            “Okay. Text me when you make it home safely. I’ll text you right now.”

            All you could manage was to give him a thumbs up.

            “Alright.” Jack nodded then he looked towards Rafe, “Make sure they get home safe, man.”

            “Yup.” The engine roared to life as he pressed a button on the dashboard.

            “I’ll see you later, _____.”

            You wanted to return the parting but Jack closed the door. The truck jostled beneath you as Rafe drove through the gravel lot.

            “What’s your address?” Rafe asked.

            Pulling out your phone, you languidly types in your address into the maps app. You hit ‘start’ & handed your phone to Rafe.

            The ride was mostly silent until the final couple minutes of it.

            “I remember you, ya know.” Rafe commented. You forced your eyes open at that. It wasn’t that you thought he would remember you or not, but you didn’t want to have one of those walk-down-memory-lane conversations with someone you knew was problematic in high school. Times changed everyone, you supposed. You weren’t always the confident & extroverted woman you were today. Perhaps Rafe had changed, too.

            “Yeah?” You responded. Thankfully, you didn’t sound as drunk as you felt.

            “Yeah, you dated that Junior kid for a while.”

            “Mm.” You had forgotten about Junior. You weren’t one of those people that considered high school boyfriends as real relationships. After all, the two of you only dated for two months your senior year.

            “What I remember most is your guys’ dramatic breakup at Phil’s prom after-party.”

            You frowned at that. That whole night was a messy blur in your memory. You remembered prom fine but the after-party was another story. You had always been a lightweight, but as you thought on it, you vaguely remembered catching Junior dancing with another girl that night.

            The memory resulted in a light chuckle from you, “Oh, yeah. Well…he was an asshole.”

            Rafe shared in your chuckle, nodding in agreement, “Yeah, he was.”

            “So, Jack, huh?”

            His sudden change in conversation made you finally look at him in the dark. The streetlights you passed under were doing little to light his face.

            “Jack?”

            “Think he’ll be any better than Junior?” Rafe questioned.

            What did that even matter?

            Searching for the right words through your addled brain proved difficult, but you eventually found them, “I don’t know… not like I’m going to date him seriously.”

            “No?” Rafe flicked his eyes to yours, “Why not?”

            Okay, you were not going to have this conversation with Rafe of all people.

            Ignoring his question, you were relieved when Rafe pulled into the parking lot of your apartment complex. But the night wasn’t quite over. You knew you wouldn’t be able to get Jules upstairs & into your apartment on your own.

            But as if he was reading your mind, Rafe switched the truck off & unbuckled his belt. He hopped out & you watched through the windshield as he rounded to your side. When he opened the door, you moved to get out but was stopped by the belt you still wore. Oh, right.

            Rafe beat you to it though, reaching around your front for a second time to release the buckle. You felt a chill riddle up your spine when his thumb grazed against your front, just above the top of your shorts. Rafe then placed a hand on your hip & guided you out of the truck. Even though it wasn’t a lifted truck, it sure felt like it as Rafe helped you climb out & down.

            “Good?”

            You nodded in response, wanting to keep your words few & far between.

            Next, you followed him around to the other side of the truck. You noticed that you weren’t as drunk as you were when you left. Your head was still pounding & your vision was still swimming, but at least you could hold yourself up now.

            Rafe swung open the door to the back & began gently pulling out Jules. She mumbled in her drunken sleep as he slung her over his shoulder.

            “If you want to lead the way, I can carry her.”

            “Thanks.” You sighed, desperate to get inside & crash into your bed.

            Inside the secure building, you used your key fob to alert the elevator of your presence. When the three of you loaded on, you pressed the lit up button for 5.

            “Thank god for elevators, right.” Rafe joked as he shifted Jules to piggyback him. Fortunately, she hung on.

            Once you reached your floor, you sped walked ahead to your door & swung it open. Rafe passed you by.

            “Take a right at the corner & her bedroom is at the end, off the living room.”

            Rafe followed your directions in the dark. You turned on the lights behind him as he went, hoping he didn’t bump into anything or accidentally drop Jules because of it. He managed to swing her door open & enter her room, you were right behind them.

            Rafe turned to face you before bending his knees to lower Jules closer to the bed. Once she was close enough, Rafe let her go. Jules groaned again at the sudden drop, her eyes fluttering open briefly before closing again. You entered her bathroom to dampen one of her hand towels.

            When you re-entered her room, you paused, watching silently as Rafe tucked Jules’ legs under the covers of her bed. He glanced up, likely having feeling you watching him, & shrugged.

            “I can’t sleep without a blanket of some sort when I’m drunk.”

            You nodded, mustering a smile. Approaching Jules, Rafe moved out of the way. You placed the damp rag on her forehead, hoping it’d help her feel less sick if she did end up throwing up in the middle of the night.

            “Would you mind doing me a favor?” You asked Rafe, glancing at him over your shoulder.

            “Sure, what’s up?”

            “Above the fridge in the kitchen are big bowls. Can you bring one?”

            Rafe nodded & left the room. You listened intently until you heard him in the kitchen.

            “Grab a glass of water, too, please!” You hollered.

            The faucet began running in the distance, so you took the time to lift Jules’ sheets. You overlooked her body, ensuring that Rafe didn’t do any weird shit when you were in the bathroom. But nothing looked out of place. Even her cowgirl boots were still on. Chuckling lightly to yourself, you quickly removed them from her feet before tucking her legs back under the covers.

            It wasn’t that you were a man-hater, you loved men. But recalling all the rumors surrounding Rafe in high school, & how even despite that he was a stranger, you didn’t want to take any chances. So far he had been helpful & friendly enough so you didn’t want to be quick to stuff him into a box labeled ‘creep’, but you’d certainly keep your eye on him.

            You heard his footfalls coming nearer so you stood up. When he entered the room again, he carried a large bowl in one hand & a glass of water in the other.

            “Thank you.” You offered him a small smile when taking the objects from him.

            Once you got Jules settled, you turned to face him, gesturing for the two of you to leave the room. You closed the door quietly behind you. In the living room, you eyed the kitchen on the opposite end of the space.

            “Did you want anything to drink? It’s the least I can do for helping.”

            Rafe sighed, contemplating your offer, “An energy drink if you got it. Feel like I’m gonna fall asleep behind the wheel if I keep going like this.”

            “I don’t have any of that, but I can make you a coffee?”

            “Yeah, sure, thanks.”

            You nodded, walking towards your kitchen. Rafe followed behind you, taking a seat at your small two person table in the corner. You felt him watching you as you pulled out the coffee grounds & began putting them into the coffee maker.

            “Thank you again.” You repeated, tossing him a look over your shoulder, “For helping.”

            “No problem.” He repeated, “Again.”

            You laughed quietly & softly at that. Once the coffee began brewing, you pulled out two mugs & left them by the pot. Then you turned back to face him.

            “How are you feeling?” He asked.

            You felt your brows crease, “What do you mean?”

            “Well, you couldn’t walk at the bar, but now you seem totally fine.”

            “Oh.” You straightened up that, also then realizing how much better you were beginning to feel, “Better, yeah. Must’ve just been a wave.”

            Rafe nodded at that but said nothing.

            “So.” you began, shrugging your shoulders. Small talk wasn’t your forte. It made you feel awkward.

            “So…” Rafe repeated.

            The two of you shared an uncomfortable laugh.

            “You looked really hot on the bar tonight.” His sudden & unsolicited comment surprised you. There was no hiding the shock on your face.

            “What?” You laughed, really believing you misheard him.

            “You heard me.” He smirked at you, his eyes trailing the length of you. You shifted under his gaze, shaking your head, “Thanks? I guess.”

            Fortunately, the coffee pot finished & you were able to distract yourself with pouring the two of you a mug of coffee. You brought Rafe’s his before returning to the fridge to pull out some French vanilla creamer.

            “Want some?” You shook the carton. Rafe waved his hand in dismissal.

            After flavoring your coffee, you joined him at the table.

            “So, what have you been up to since high school?” You finally asked, forcing yourself to partake in a dreaded topic of conversation.

            “Not a whole lot.” Rafe blew out air, “Working for my dad mostly.”

            “And what’s that?” You blew on your coffee before taking a sip.

            “Business. Real estate development. That sorta shit.”

            You nodded, “That’s good money though, right? You rolling in dough?”

            “Why? Want me to take you out on a date?”

            He was teasing but you still laughed uncomfortably, “Not exactly.”

            “No? Not the dating type?”

            Shrugging, you made a face that confirmed his suspicions, “Not really, no.”

            “Why’s that?”

            You sighed, leaning back in your chair, “No reason, really. Just haven’t met the right person, I guess.”

            “Having too much fun stealing & breaking hearts at the bar?” Rafe smirked.

            You rolled your eyes, “Something like that.”

            “You stole mine. Watching you up there…”

            The way he looked at you made your skin erupt with goosebumps. You bit your lip & Rafe’s eyes flicked to the movement. You shook your head, unable to hide your embarrassed smile, “You’ve always been a flirt, ya know?”

            Rafe’s eyes widened at that, “What does that mean?”

            You shook your finger at him, “We may not have talked in high school but you had a reputation. You were ‘the bad boy’. Breaking hearts and faces.”

            Rafe scoffed at that but chuckled nonetheless, “I won’t confirm nor deny.”

            A silly giggle left you but you immediately reeled it in the second you heard it. Were you…flirting with Rafe Cameron? Jesus. If someone had told you earlier that day that you’d end your night flirting with Rafe Cameron in your own apartment you’d say bullshit. It was funny though sometimes how the world brought people in & out of your life.

            “Oh, c’mon.” You shook your head, “All the girls wanted to date you & all the guys wanted to either be you or beat you.”

            Rafe laughed at that, nodding in agreement, “Maybe.”

            You lowered your eyes, memories of high school passing you by.

            “What about you?”

            You raised your eyes to meet his, “What about me, what?”

            “Did you want to date me?”

            There was no helping the sudden burst of laughter at his question. You bit your lip again, shaking your head, “Actually, no. If anything, I was scared of you.”

            Rafe’s eyes glinted playfully, leaning across the table, “That so?”

            “Mm.” You nodded, “I saw a few of your fights. You’re pretty hot-headed, ya know. All I wanted to do was not piss you off.”

            “You couldn’t even if you tried.” Rafe eyes lingered to your lips.

            A part of you was undeniably enjoying his apparent attraction to you. You didn’t care if it was the alcohol or whatever it was that was sexually charging the energy in the room. After all, you did want to take a man home tonight. Rafe isn’t who you had in mind, especially since he started out as Jules’, but Jules’ was lax. If you did end up sleeping with Rafe, she wouldn’t care. All she’d be interested in was how he was in bed. And now, you couldn’t help but wonder yourself.

            Inhaling sharply, you pushed your coffee to the side so you could place your elbows on the table, leaning forward so there was only a few inches between you.

            “But I’m sure I can make you happy.” You flirted suggestively.

            “I think you can, too.” Rafe stared at you through hooded eyes. Yeah. He wanted you, too.

            That being the only confirmation you needed, you rose from your seat, offering your hand to Rafe, “C’mon then. Let’s go to bed.”

            Rafe grinned up at you with that. Then he rose to his full height, but he ignored your hand. He towered over you, your head only reaching his shoulders. Before you could say or do anything, Rafe suddenly had his arms around your butt, lifting you until you were forced to wrap your legs around his middle.

            “Let’s.”

            A week passed before you saw Rafe again. And you honestly never expected to see him again. After the night you two spent together rolling around in your sheets, you passed out. When you woke the next morning, Rafe was gone. It wasn’t the first time, & likely wouldn’t be the last, that one of your hook-ups escaped into the night, but you’d be lying if you thought Rafe would be different since you two went to high school. But alas, Rafe only proved to be like most men. You weren’t miffed though. You moved on fast.

            As far Jules, her reaction to learning about you two hooking up wasn’t what you quite expected. She laughed it off at first but you could see that she felt something about it. You eventually got it out of her. She said that she actually liked Rafe. Unlike most of her conquests, she felt a natural draw to him & had thought that perhaps Rafe could be someone she’d date. It all surprised you.

            Jules, of course, didn’t blame you whatsoever since she had only met Rafe that night, & after you explained your history, or lack thereof, with him, she understood. But you could tell that she was disheartened to not get to know him more. But as the week passed, she got back into her usual good spirits.

            As for you, you heard from Jack a day after you met him. He started out giving you a hard time for not letting him know you made it back home safely that night, & you thought it best to lie & say that you passed out as soon as you got into bed rather than telling me the truth. The two of you texted for the whole day & before you knew it you had scheduled a date.

            The date itself was fun. You took Jack to some blacklight mini golf then the two of you had a couple beers at one of your favorite bars. The night ended with a hot make-out session in your car. After that, you two saw each other practically every day. Tonight would be no different. In fact, Jules was going out to the bars & you were staying in, wanting Jack to come spend the night with you. It wasn’t like you to wait to have sex with someone you were interested, so Jack was a rare case.

            But with Jules being out of the apartment for most of the night, you thought it an opportune time to have him over & you two could be as loud as you wanted.

            It was almost nine at night when Jules finally left. Jack was supposed to be there around that time, as well. But before she left, she poked her head into your room. You did a little spin for her as she tried to pick her jaw off the floor.

            “Damn, _____. Jack isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

            You smiled happily at that, admiring your lingerie in your full length mirror.

            “I hope so.” Jack was quickly becoming your Rafe. By that, you meant that you enjoyed his company beyond more than just the sexual tension. He made you laugh, carried a conversation, showed interest in your life but also wasn’t afraid to share details of his own. Plus, he was hot as fuck. The more you hung out with him the more he reminded you of a young James Franco. And Franco was always cute to you.

            “So, I wanted to talk to you about something really quick.” Jules revealed, stepping further into your room.

            You tossed her a confused but wary look, “…Okay. Everything alright?”

            “Yeah, at least, I hope so.” She laughed sheepishly, “I’m going to bars tonight, as you know, but…I’m not going alone.”

            You reeled back at that, but were smiling nonetheless, “Okay, babe, if it’s a date you know we trade info incase the guys are creeps.”

            “Yeah, I know.” She sighed, avoiding your eyes, “That’s kind of why I didn’t say anything to begin with. You already know him…”

            Done admiring yourself in the mirror, you sat on your bed, staring up at her in waiting.

            Jules moved forward to join you on your bed, “It’s with Rafe.”

            Oh.

            The revelation wasn’t what you expected but you nodded hesitantly, “Okay… that’s okay?”

            “I don’t know, is it? We’ve never really navigated these waters before.”

            You rolled your eyes at that, “Oh, my god, Jules, it’s okay! I have no claims to him. If you want to see him then see him.”

            She frowned at that, not entirely buying what you were selling, “Are you sure? I know we have a pretty lax friendship, but it’s not weird. I’ll admit, I did feel weird after you told me you guys hooked up last weekend.”

            A pang of guilt hit your chest, but you dismissed it with a forced smile. You had no interest in Rafe. He was a decent fuck, but that’s all he was. If Jules was serious about him, the last you wanted to do was have her thinking you were standing in her way.

            “God, I’m sorry. I’m such a slut sometimes.”

            Jules giggled at that but shook her head, “That’s not what I’m saying. I just want to make sure that you & I will be okay. And, obviously, if it gets weird or messy having Rafe around then I won’t mind kicking him to the curb.”

            You laughed at that, “It won’t come to that. Besides, I have my own man coming over tonight. Rafe…feels like it was ages ago at this point.”

            “Okay.” Jules grinned, her dimples appearing. You could tell she was really excited about this date. You only hoped that Rafe didn’t disappear in the middle of the night on her like he did you.

            “Okay!” You exclaimed, standing up. Jules stood with you. You hugged her, “Thank you for telling me. I’ll make sure Jack & I are all finished by the time you get home.”

            “No worries.” Jules pulled away, grinning at you, “If we do end up wanting to hook-up I’m going to try to get it done at his place, that way you two can be alone all night.”

            “Well, thanks, I appreciate it.” You smiled, letting her go, “But if you do go there, you know to text me where the address is.”

            “Yes, mom.” Jules rolled her eyes.

            With that, you exited your room & walked with her to the door. Jack would be there any minute & you still wanted light some incense & candles.

            You were unlatching the door & swinging it open, preparing to wave Jules off but a yelp escaped you at the tall, looming presence just on the other side.

            “Rafe!” Jules shrieked. The both of you were not expecting him on the other side, let alone anyone.

            Rafe’s eyes danced amusingly between the two of you as you both recovered from the jump scare but when his eyes stopped on you, staring at your chest, you glanced down. It was then that you realized you were still only wearing your lingerie.

            “Oh, fuck.” You muttered, quickly standing just behind the door out of sight as you tied the thigh length silk robe around your body. Jules realized what was happening by the time you finished & glanced up.

            “Sorry ‘bout that.” You laughed sheepishly as Jules stepped out.

            Rafe said nothing but was staring at you like he was trying not to respond.

            “Oh, jesus, let’s just get this over with.” Jules finally spit out, “You guys fucked. It’s nothing he hasn’t seen before. Right?” She looked at you to which you nodded quickly.

            “Right?” She focused on Rafe. He only mustered an awkward smirk.

            “Great. Now that that’s over with, _____...” Jules eyed you, “Have fun with Jack. I’ll see you either tonight or tomorrow.”

            At the mention of Jack’s name, you felt Rafe’s eyes flash to yours in curiosity. You blatantly ignored his wonderous gaze & waved at Jules, “Bye, have fuuun!”

            Then you hurriedly slammed the door. As much as you loved Jules for her direct nature, you sorely wished she hadn’t mentioned the two of you hooking up while you were standing there in practically nothing. But, fortunately the moment was over & you could focus on the task at hand: Jack.

            It was nearly three in the morning when you tip-toed into the kitchen to heat yourself up some leftovers. Jack had passed out. You had tired him out. You had always considered your endurance your best quality in the bedroom. It wasn’t often when a man could keep up with you. Jack was no exception, but he was fun, nonetheless. The sex was rushed at first. The second he saw you he couldn’t keep his hands off you. The after having sex that lasted for roughly fifteen minutes, you two relaxed & laughed about it.

            Then you ordered the two of you some food & while waiting for the food to come the two of you hung out on the couch watching an episode of The Boys. After eating & another episode, Jack gathered you in his arms & carried you into your room for second round. The second round was a lot more sensual. Now that the two of you had had sex in a hurry, you two were able to slow down & really learn each other’s bodies. You were winded by the time that session ended. You fell asleep as he scratched your back & when you woke up an hour later, he was still awake watching videos on his phone. You knocked his phone out of the way & straddled his lap. The third time was even more mind-blowing than the first two—being the perfect mixture of animalistic & intimate.

            After that, it was Jack’s turn to pass out. He had commented on your skills in bed & you kicked your feet about it. It wasn’t that you felt validated by hearing a man’s thoughts about what you could do but you also wouldn’t deny how good it still felt to hear.

            You tried sleeping yourself, getting only ten or so minutes when your stomach growled you awake. There would be no good night’s rest until you ate. So, that’s when you decided to go heat up some leftovers from yours & Jack’s order.

            Your apartment was quiet save for the metallic hum of the microwave. You stared at Jules’ closed bedroom door, & it was only then that you realized you hadn’t checked your phone whatsoever since Jack arrived. There was still a minute left on the microwave. You decided you’d go snatch your phone from your room really quickly then give Jules a call while you ate. But just as you entered the hallway, you heard the familiar sound of her keys in the door.

            As quietly as you possibly could, you backed up back into the living room then raced across the room to the kitchen, trying to look as natural as possible. But as you listened for Jules’ footsteps, you picked up on another.

            She wasn’t alone.

            You glanced down. You were in your robe but only your robe. Jack made quick work of discarding your matching bra & underwear. There was a throw blanket on the back of the couch. You made to move towards it, hoping to get it wrapped around you since the robe did little to really cover you, but just as you did, two figures appeared on the other end of the room.

            “Jules?” You frowned. She was slumped against Rafe.

            Your eyes flashed to his, your state of dress forgotten, “What the hell happened?”

            “Yeah, I don’t think she’s much of a heavyweight anymore. She was falling asleep at the bar.”

            Shaking your head, you approached the two of them. Rafe still held her up as you patted her cheeks, “Jules, babe, wake up.”

            But she only moaned & swatted your hand away, “Sleepy.”

            “Okay, okay.” You couldn’t help the glare you threw at Rafe. Whether or not it was his fault, she had only gotten this drunk in the last week while in his presence. You hoped it was just a coincidence but you wouldn’t settle on it quite yet.

            “Can you get some water, I got it from here.” You told Rafe before slipping her into your arms. Jules managed to use her feet to assist you in assisting her as you brought her back to her bed. Jules sighed happily at the sight of her bed before throwing herself down on it.

            You knelt beside the bed, tucking her hair behind her ear, “Did you drink a lot again?”

            “Mmm. Probably.”

            You sucked on your lip, “Jules, you can’t be drinking like that. You gotta be safe.”

            “Safe…very safe.” She mumbled, turning her head away from you as she curled into herself.

            The air in the room shifted as Rafe entered behind you. You stood up, taking the glass of water from him none-too-gently & putting it on her nightstand.

            “You can leave.” You told him without looking at him, “Thanks for getting her home.”

            Rafe scoffed behind you but said nothing. You listened as you heard his steps leave the room. Releasing a breath of air, you stared at your best friend as she slept soundlessly.

            “Jules…” You whispered to no one. Taking her shoes off, you threw one of her loose blankets over her & switched her light off. You’d be talking with her in the morning. You had to make sure that her getting so drunk was her doing & not Rafe’s.

            A muffled gasp escaped you as you closed her door, not expecting to see Rafe leaning against the wall just on the other side.

            You had your hand over your mouth to keep from waking Jules or Jack, but you glared hotly at Rafe over your hand.

            Closing Jules door, you stepped closer to him, hissing, “I told you to leave.”

            Rafe frowned, “Okay, sorry. I thought you just meant the room.”

            “You knew exactly what I meant.”

            You turned away from him, quietly stomping towards the kitchen. Rafe followed behind you.

            “What’s your problem? I thought you’d thank me.”

            “And I did.” You bit back. You were struggling to contain your anger. You had no proof that Rafe actually did anything, after all, he was helpful just last weekend & brought Jules back home tonight, but it still didn’t sit well with you. And your mom always taught you to trust your gut.

            “So why the hostile attitude? Did I do something wrong?”

            Inhaling sharply, you yanked open the microwave door. The food was steaming. But you had lost your appetite.

            “No.” You replied shortly, uncaring if you sounded convincing or not.

            You touched the plate but as you did, you hissed in pain. You were too caught up in your frustrations to remember to grab the plate of food with a hand towel.

            “You okay?” Rafe moved closer, peering down at you as you stuck your thumb in your mouth, sucking on it.

            You grunted in response. But Rafe just stared at you in disbelief.

            “If you run it under cold water it’ll help better.” He told you, his voice flat.

            “I know that.”

            Instead of approaching you, he backed up to the sink, flicking the faucet handle. Then he gestured to the sink, “Well.”

            Biting your lip in mild irritation, you neared the sink & stuck your thumb under the water. It wouldn’t burn, not visibly anyway, but it still hurt like a bitch. The cool water helped though.

            As the water cooled the sensation of your pulsing thumb, so did your anger. Shaking your head, you finally looked at Rafe over your shoulder, “I’m sorry. Thank you for helping her home.”

            “You’re welcome.” He returned, but the nicety has left his voice. He was as irritated as you had been.

            “It’s just, she doesn’t get drunk like this.” You told him, “I mean, she does! But it takes a lot. Like a lot, a lot. So, seeing her get this drunk twice in one week, just has me concerned.”

            “Well, I was there, & I’m telling you, she didn’t drink a lot. I don’t know, obviously, what her ‘a lot’ is, but it wasn’t a lot to me. A beer, three cocktails, & two shots.”

            You thought on it. That was still excessive, at least in your opinion. Jules could normally handle a bit more than that but perhaps Rafe was right. Maybe her tolerance was just changing for some reason all of a sudden.

            “Guess it makes sense.” You mumbled. Your thumb felt better at that point so you turned the faucet off.

            “So, what’s a lot to you?” You asked him, wanting to shift the negative energy between the two of you.

            Rafe glanced at you in momentary confusion before shrugging, “More than that.”

            “Guess that makes sense, too.” You chuckled softly, “You were a big partier in high school.”

            Finally, Rafe’s stone expression cracked as a smirk tugged on the corner of his lips, “Yeah, true.”

            The room was silent for a beat until your stomach growled. Your appetite had returned. Turning your back on Rafe, you went to the microwave & tapped the plate, testing the heat. It was grabbable now. You removed your food from the appliance then took your plate to the table. Rafe watched you silently before slowly approaching you.

            “So, you & Jack, huh?”

            “Hmm?” You flicked your eyes to his, before realizing what he had asked, “Oh, uh, yeah.”

            Rafe nodded, slowly dragging out the chair opposite you before sitting down.

            “And you & Jules.” You added, not wanting you or Jack to be the focus at that point in time.

            “Mhmm.” Rafe pursed his lips, cocking his head as he peered at you, “And you & me.”

            You scrunched your nose in discomfort, but offered an awkward smile nonetheless, “Yup.”

            “Does Jack know?” His question surprised you.

            You glanced away to cut into your enchilada, blowing on it, then placing it in your mouth. You chewed, staring back at Rafe. Then you shrugged.

            “I take that as a ‘no’.”

 ��          “Well, it’s not like we’re together, him & I. He doesn’t need to know about my hook-ups. I don’t ask about his.”

            “But you want to date him.” It wasn’t a question but you still treated it as such.

            “Um, no? I don’t know. Why do you ask?” You took another bite, a lump forming in your throat at Rafe’s invasive questions.

            “Ah, well, Jules was saying that she thought you really liked this Jack guy, more than normal. Said you guys have been seeing each other pretty much everyday since last weekend.” For some odd reason, you felt like you were being interrogated, like a parent trying to get to know their teen daughter’s boyfriend before ultimately deciding that they weren’t good enough for her.

            You shrugged, “Yeah, I guess. But, same could be said about you & Jules.”

            Rafe raised his brows at that, “Yeah?”

            You nodded, “She almost lied to me tonight. Didn’t tell me who she was seeing. She’s never done that before. Plus, she admitted as much that she liked you more than just for hooking up.”

            “Hmm.” He looked away, deep in thought.

            “How does that make you feel?” It was your turn to interrogate him.

            “Not a lot.” Rafe returned quickly. His cold response had your earlier anger become lightly reignited.

            “And that means…?”

            Rafe leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he gazed at you, “She’s nice, hot, fun. But…she’s not you.”

            The sound of your fork clattering against the plate as it slipped from your fingers made you jump slightly. Your body felt tense at Rafe’s confession. But you had to play it off. Quickly snatching the fork back up, you brushed off his comment with a sheepish chuckle, “Funny.”

            But Rafe didn’t share in your amusement. His unwavering stare was only evidence of his seriousness.

            “What are you trying to say, Rafe?”

            He sighed, his eyes dropping to the opening of your robe. You glanced down & quickly snatched the fabric closer to your chest. He smirked at that.

            “I’m saying that I know you’re wearing nothing under that & I want to see what you’re trying to hide from me.”

            You sputtered in shock, staring at him wide-eyed, “Are you fucking serious?”

            Rafe raised his eyes to yours, “Deadly.”

            “Alright, okay.” You stood up, your half-eaten food forgotten on the table, “I don’t know what the hell you think—’

            But Rafe stood too, quickly invading your space as you stood there attempting to talk him down. He pressed his chest against you & you didn’t have time to create space before he gripped one of your hips. A surprised hiss escaped your lips at his abrupt manhandling.

            “I think that dumbass in there can’t please you like I can.” Rafe spoke lowly, his voice even but firm.

            You swallowed, putting your hands on his chest in an attempt to push yourself away from him, but Rafe was quick to snatch both your wrists in his other hand.

            “What are you doing?” Panic flooded you. If Rafe was fucking with you, you weren’t finding it very funny.

            “I told you.” Rafe then quickly yanked on the ties of your robe & your robe fell open.

            You gasped as cool air suddenly brushed over your exposed front. You instinctively made to cover yourself help but Rafe still held your wrists in his hand. You were breathing heavily, watching in a daze as Rafe’s eyes darkened, staring at your body.

            Then, just as quickly as it happened, Rafe looked back up at you & smirked. Then he let you go.

            “Have a good night.”

            Like whiplash, Rafe was there one second then gone the next. You stood there in the center of your kitchen staring into the direction of the hallway where Rafe disappeared to. The front door to your apartment closed in the distance & you finally released a breath of air you had been holding.

            Then everything that just occurred finally hit you.

            “What. The. Fuck.”

            The next couple months were weird, to say the least. After Rafe revealed yourself to him he was around way too much. He & Jules began spending a lot of time together & before you knew it, they were dating. DATING.

            You sat on what he had done for a couple days before you finally told her about it. Or least, a little bit about it.

            First, you started by asking her if she was really serious about Rafe, like had real feelings for him. When she admitted that she did, you felt torn on telling her the whole truth or just a version of the truth. You eventually settled on just telling her variation of it.

            What you ended up telling her was that he came onto you again but you had rejected him & then he left. That was basically what happened, but you didn’t mention him undoing your robe, & you weren’t sure why. Rafe was no friend to you so you had no need to protect him, but Jules was your friend, & you had never seen her hung up on someone the way she was about Rafe.

            You had seen Rafe multiple times in the window between his harassment of you in the kitchen to telling Jules about it, & in that time he never said or tried anything again. He hardly even looked at you. You reminded yourself that he was an asshole in high school & that he likely viewed what he did as just a humiliating prank. But it wasn’t. Had you not already hooked-up with him you likely would’ve told Jules the whole truth, but since Rafe had already seen you naked & was just pulling one of those idiotic Alpha moves on you in the kitchen, you figured as long as it never happened again you could deal with seeing him & Jules together all the time.

            But it still ate away at you. It bothered you that he had the audacity to not only do that but then move forward & decide to date your best friend. But Jules was happy, more so, she was drinking less. It was the least you could ask for in her questionable relationship with Rafe Cameron.

            On the bright side, Jules wasn’t the only one to enter into an official relationship. After a few weeks of hanging out with Jack & having some of the best sex of your life, you & Jack progressed into a relationship. It felt like ages since you last had a boyfriend, but it felt nice. He was quickly becoming one of your favorite people. Even better, he & Jules got along great. She’d often join you guys on the couch when you watched a movie or show or even help out in the kitchen as the two of you made dinner. They were all good times, but they were often soured by the presence of Rafe.

            Now that you & Jules were in relationships, there was an ungodly amount of times when all four of you would hangout. It was like double dating all the time. If Jules & Rafe wanted to go out to the bars, they’d always convinces Jack to convince you. And then on nights when you worked, Jack would sometimes come in to see you, & right behind him would be Jules & Rafe. Your apartment with Jules was quickly becoming a home to your respective boyfriends.

            Your relationship with Rafe was interesting, too. Though he never made comments or did anything like he did that night in the kitchen, he still always found a reason to talk to you. It was never about anything especially important or engaging, but always just enough to have you two at least carry a conversation for some time.

            Jack still never knew about you & Rafe hooking up the night you all met & you wanted to keep it that way. In fact, you made Jules promise that she would tell Rafe to keep his mouth shut because if ever said anything, even eluded to it, you would make sure he’d regret it. And so far, Rafe never peeped a word about it. The only downside to Jack never knowing about your tryst with Rafe was that they too became good friends.

            Oftentimes, you’d see them laughing loudly with one another, like slapping each other laughing, & always having each other’s back on nights out if for some reason they came across a belligerent asshole. A small part of you was relieved that everything was seemingly working out, but a majority of you knew everything was too good to be true. It’d only be so long before the other shoe dropped. And what kind of shoe it would be had you constantly on the edge…

            But that was the least of your worries as you rushed to get ready. That morning, your mom called you to remind of the charity gala that was being hosted in her name & how you promised to be there. The event had completely slipped your mind. So, all day you were frazzled with that now being your mission. You were forced to call Rosie & explain everything to him, apologizing that it slipped your mind & you would be able to come into work. Fortunately, Rosie said he’d take care of it & that he would see the following night.

            After that, you drove to the shopping district hoping you’d find a dress that would be appropriate enough for the gala. These gala’s your mom attended were high class. No ball gowns or anything extravagant like that (though some people did wear stuff like that), but it was definitely an excuse for those in attendance to show off some of the nicer items in their closet. You had none.

            You got lucky when you found a dress that you could keep & wear again. It was equally elegant as it was just the right amount of sex appeal. Unfortunately, due to the short notice, Jack would not be able to come with you. You learned early on in your relationship that Jack moved to town to open his own café. It had a rough start but once the warmer months came it became a huge hit so he was spending a lot of his time there to help out. And tonight they were having an open mic night for comedians, poets, musicians. It was their first one so he couldn’t miss it.

            You were going to ask Jules next if she wanted to be your date but when you went to her room earlier that day, you could hear her throwing up in the bathroom. She had come down with the flu. So, she was a no go. It bummed you out that you wouldn’t have a date but it was your own fault for completely forgetting about it.

            It was thirty minutes before the gala started & you had just finished getting ready. You still had to drive 20 minutes to the venue so you would be cutting it close but at least you’d be on time. Before you left, you sped-walk to Jules’ room to check on her. She was sound asleep in her bed, a humidifier next to her bed billowing warm, wet air. You quicky stepped into the room & kissed your fingers before placing them on her forehead. You couldn’t afford getting sick after bailing on Rosie tonight.

            Then, you were out the door.

            You recognized the address as being somewhere in the industrial district on the north side of town. That thought made you groan, you hoped they had valet parking.

Traffic was a bitch but you made it with two minutes to spare. Thank you, Valet.

            Once you were inside, you sought out your mom. You found her in the middle of greeting guests as they entered the building.

            “Oh, honey!” She exclaimed, “I’m so happy you could make it.”

            “Of course, Mom. Is there an open bar?” You asked once she pulled away.

            Your mom rolled her eyes knowingly, “So much of your father in you. Yes, yes. The venue is up those stairs there, the bar portion is in a separate room across from it.”           

            “Great, thank you.” You kissed her on the cheek, antsy to at least get a glass of wine in your system.

            She waved you off to continue welcoming guests while you went to go retrieve a drink. After you succeeded in getting your wine, you entered the gala. You nodded impressively. There were a few faces you recognized as close friends of your mom’s & forced yourself to make small talk as you mingled your way over to a table by the windows. Once you made it through, you took a moment to yourself to relax. Your whole day had felt rushed & chaotic so you were happy to finally be off your feet with some sort of alcohol before you to keep you going.

            The charity event started soon thereafter, & before you knew it, you were enjoying your drink, watching as a couple hundred middle aged rich folk raised their hands for the auction portion. Once the auction was through, the host announced that dinner was served & to help yourselves & to enjoy the night while it was still young. You checked the time on your phone, noting it was only 8 in the evening. Your mom begged you to stay at least until 9 that way she can finish making her rounds then she could focus her time on you. You begrudgingly promised you would.

            When she disappeared, you decided to get your glass refilled. You were snaking your way between bodies, aiming for the doors that would lead you to the bar when you abruptly ran into another person.

            “Sorry!” You exclaimed, feeling embarrassed for not watching where you were going. But when the person you ran into turned around, the apologetic expression on your face fell.

            “Well, well. Fancy seeing you here, huh?” Rafe grinned, clearly not expecting to see you either.

            “Fancy.” You deadpanned, turning away to continue on your way. What the hell was he doing there?

            Once you made it to the edge of the room though, you felt a slight tug on your elbow, deterring you from your destination. A curse died on your tongue as you glared at Rafe dragging you through a set of glass doors & onto a patio. You didn’t even know there was a patio. Had you, you would’ve hidden out there all night to avoid Rafe,

            “What are you doing here?” He asked, admiring your outfit.

            “You first.” You battled.

            Rafe chuckled but answered, “Networking.”

            “For?”

            Rafe rolled his eyes, sighing, “My dad’s business?”

            You pursed your lips. You supposed it made sense. But Jules hadn’t mentioned it.

            “Why isn’t Jules here then?” You knew well enough that she was sick & resting at home, but since she had never mentioned it, you wondered if Rafe had even bothered to mention it to her.

            “Because I didn’t ask her.” Rafe responded like it was the most obvious answer in the whole world. But you wouldn’t accept.

            “God, you are such an asshole. She’s crazy about you, ya know. And you treat her like crap.”

            Rafe bit his lip in though, narrowing his eyes at you, “You sure about that? Pretty sure I actually spoil her. More than she’s worth.”

            “Oh, you—” All the possible offensive terms you could think of threatened to spill out but this wasn’t the time or the place, “That’s it. When I get back home, I’m telling her everything.”

            You spun on your heel then, prepared to go find your mom & apologize but you had to leave early. You couldn’t stand to be here for a second longer knowing Rafe asshole Cameron was present.

            But when you left the patio & entered the hall, where there was conveniently no one was around, Rafe snagged you by the waist before shoving you into a bathroom.

            “Rafe, goddamnit!” But Rafe shook you to your core when he pressed your back against the wall & covered your mouth. His hand going to the handle on the door & locking it.

            “I’m gonna take my hand off now, think you can shut the fuck up for two seconds?”

            You glared at him but nodded once. Rafe removed his hand but only stared at you.

            You slapped your hands together, waiting for him to get it over with.

            “I don’t know what the fuck you want, _____. You’re so annoyingly confusing. More than most women.”

            You frowned at that. What was he talking about?

            “You come onto me the night we meet then you suddenly want nothing to do with me. I never asked you out on a date because you said you weren’t interested in dating. I was fine with that, though. I could live with just hooking up. But then come to find out you’re dating Jack, fucking him, too. So, now I look like an idiot because you told me you don’t date. And that’s a lie. So, when I found out & tried coming onto you again that night in your apartment, you rejected me. All for that dumbass in your bed. I mean, what is a guy supposed to think? I’ve been very patient, waiting for you & Jack to get through whatever it is you guys think you’re doing but nope, nope, Jack’s here to stay, Jack’s such a good guy, Jack’s the one.”

            All of his words were becoming jumbled together in your brain. You could do nothing but stare at him wide-eyed & in shock.

            Rafe was huffing, his lips in an upside down smile as he stared through you, “What do you have to say, huh? Because now, all this time, pretending to be into Jules, I’ve just been trying to get close to you. To show you that I’m who you want. That you regret rejecting me. And you can’t say I haven’t been good because I have been. I don’t touch you, flirt with you, make it obvious that I want to fuck your brains out, that I want to beat Jack to a pulp every single time I see him put his hands on you. It should be me, _____. You know that.”

            A surprised but unamused sigh left you. Everything you thought about Rafe was true, but just much worse. He was only dating Jules because of you. Only hanging around because of you. You needed to snuff this man out.

            “Rafe…” You licked your lips, struggling to find the words, “I don’t know where, at any point, you got into your head that we were something more than just a spontaneous, convenient hook-up but that’s all it was. Okay? That’s it. There was sexual tension & I acted on it. Simple as that. I mean, you were gone the next morning! We had nothing more than just casual, one-time sex.”

            Rafe’s eyes narrowed as you spoke.

            “And as far as Jack goes, that’s none of your damn business. I meant what I said when I told you I don’t date but things change, & I don’t care how fast they change, I don’t owe you anything. I’m not some fucking prize that you are competing against Jack for, & even if I was, let me tell you, he is by far a better man you will ever be. A real man doesn’t use a woman to get closer to her roommate, to try & make her roommate, I don’t know, fall for him? That’s some psycho sociopathic shit, right there. Okay?! So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done. I would love nothing more than to tell her myself about how much of a piece of shit you are, but she’s my friend. My best friend. And I don’t want to hurt her. So, the least you can do is soften the blow.”

            It looked as if he wasn’t listening anymore, his eyes glazing over, but you knew he was. He was hearing every single world.

            “Man up.” You stepped forward, “And give her what she deserves.”

            His eyes finally shifted back to yours, “Careful what you wish for.”

            The look in his eyes sparked a bout of fear within you.

            But then Rafe was unlocking the bathroom door & next thing you knew he was gone. Your heart was racing, the interaction an explosion of emotions. But with him gone, you were finally able to relax against the wall. You placed your hand on your chest, willing your heart to slow down. Jesus. This day just wouldn’t give you a break, would it?

            Unfortunately, your night never improved. When you got home later that night, you could hear Jules crying in her room. As relieved as you were that Rafe called her, you were still disheartened to hear her sobs from the front door. Stopping by your room first, you kicked off your heels & tossed your keys on the bed. Then you hesitantly walked towards her room. Her door was cracked open.

            You were about to enter her room but another’s voice stopped you.

            “I’m sorry, Jules.” Rafe.

            What the fuck was he doing here?!

            Not waiting to get answers from Jules, you slapped her door open, standing angrily in her doorway. Jules & Rafe were on her bed & Rafe was holding her as she cried into his chest.

            “What the hell’s going on here?”

            Jules looked up then but her solemn face quickly turned to one of anger as she set her eyes on you. She stood up, looking you directly in the eye, “I should be asking you that! I trusted you!”

            You stared at her in confusion before glancing at Rafe who sat smugly on the edge of her bed.

            “Jules, look, I don’t know what that fuck told you but he’s ly—”

            “Lying?!” Jules questioned, her voice growing louder, “Yeah, he said you’d say that. But he told me everything!”

            You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at the unapologetic look on Rafe’s face, “And what was that?”

            “That you’ve been coming onto him for months!” Jules screeched, “I knew bringing him around was going to be weird but if you still had feelings for him then you should have told me! Now you’re telling him to break up with me so you can have him. I can’t believe you would do that!”

            “What?!” You raised your voice, “No, no, that is not what’s happening. He’s the asshole, the creep!”

            “Oh, shut up, _____!” Jules glared at you through her angry tears, “He has proof of you saying so!”

            You stumbled at that, “Proof? What? What proof, Jules?”

            She spun around, snatching a phone that wasn’t hers off the bed before raising it up between the two of you. She clacked on it & then turned the volume up. It was your voice that came out.

            So, what you’re gonna do now, is you’re gonna call Jules & you’re gonna break up with her. I don’t care how you do it, but you’re gonna get it done.

            “Motherfucker…” You whispered in disbelief. But then the recording stopped. Jules played it again.

            You shot your eyes between the two of them before settling on Jules, “That’s all he recorded? You don’t think that’s weird, Jules? There’s nothing before, nothing after, it’s all out of context. Yes, I told him to break up with you but so I could have him! He’s a fucking psycho!���

            Jules shook her head, chuckling darkly as she tossed the phone back on her bed, “I want you out of this apartment. Tonight. And then I never want to see you again.”

            “Jules! No, what? Wait!” But she was shoving you out of her room & before you could get another word out, she slammed her door in your face.

            “Rafe, you fucking asshole! Tell her the truth!” You beat against the door but all you could make out on the other side was Jules bitching about you before her room started blaring music.

            You couldn’t believe this was happening. Rafe had gotten to her. Turned your closest friend against you. Well. Fuck him. He wasn’t going to win. Not that easily. Jules wanted to never see you again, that’s too damn bad. Because you weren’t going anywhere, not as long as Rafe was in her ear feeding her lies.

            You walked into work angrily the following night. Your coworkers greeted you but you could only manage a grunt. Jules was far from happy to see you when you came out of your room that morning but you needed to show her that you weren’t going anywhere.

            “My name’s on the lease. I pay rent. I’m staying.” You told her to which she sneered at you before grabbing her coffee & disappearing in her room.

            Her door was closed but you told her through the door that you would never betray her like that. That the person who was lying to her was Rafe. She never responded, & you never saw her again before you left for work. But you wouldn’t give up.

            You threw on your outfit for your shift then left in poor spirits. Working helped you distract yourself from the bullshit of your disastrous home life & potential friend break-up. It was busy & your regulars listened to you as you told a few of them about few details of your dilemma. They all held hope for you & Jules to figure things out. That left you feeling slightly better. But around midnight, an unexpected guest appeared at the far end of the bar. You smiled for the first time in 24 hours but your smile quickly fell at the furious expression on Jack’s face.

            “Hey.” You said warily, flipping over a 16oz to pour his usual beer.

            “I’m not staying.” Jack told you, his voice hard.

            That wasn’t a good sign.

            “I just came to tell you that Jules told me everything. The recording, everything.”

            “Jack.” You sighed exhaustedly. After last night’s intense fallout, you didn’t think to call Jack & tell him what happened. But you never thought Jules would reach out to him herself.

            “Save it.” He held up his hand, “I just wanted to tell you in person.”

            Before you could try to defend yourself or even explain a little bit, Jack was out the door. You watched tiredly through the windows as he sped off.

            Jack didn’t understand either. He would, but not yet. First, you had to get Jules to know the truth, get Rafe out of the picture, then after all that, you & Jules would tell Jack the truth together. You just had to be strong.

            “You alright, kid?” Rosie’s voice sounded behind you.

            You pressed your lips together, feeling them shake. You felt like crying but you forced yourself not to. Rafe couldn’t get away with this.

            Turning around, your head hung low, you simply nodded to Rosie.

            “Why don’t you take a ten. I can man the bar, start closing duties.”

            You didn’t have the energy to debate it. You exited the bar & went to sit at the far end. Pulling out your phone, you hoped to see any messages from Jules but there was nothing. You tried calling her but your call went straight to voicemail. She likely blocked you. Good thing you lived down the hallway from her.

            Holding your head in your hands, you thought about how you got here. How the fuck did you get here? Everything was fine & then suddenly it wasn’t. You realized you should’ve told Jules about Rafe from the beginning. Told her about how he came onto you in the kitchen that night. If you had, Rafe wouldn’t be in the picture, you & Jules would still be friends, & Jack would be drinking a beer less than 10 feet from you.

            “Fucking Rafe…” You muttered out loud.

            Could this night get any worse?

            Unfortunately yes, yes it could.

            You kicked at the tire of your car, frustrated that it suddenly wouldn’t start. Rosie had already left. He closed up The Garage with you & walked with you to your vehicles. But while he started his up & pulled out of the parking lot, you sat behind your wheel staring mindlessly out the windshield. You so desperately just wanted to talk to Jules, to just tell her everything. It had only been 24 hours & all you wanted was your best friend back.

            So, when you finally broke out of your thoughts & went to start your car, it only added to your shitty night that the engine sputtered then died.

            “Fuuuuuuck!” You screamed, beating your hands against the dashboard. Your hands were throbbing afterwards but you could barely feel it. And if you thought it still couldn’t get any worse, pulling out your phone & finding it dead only proved you wrong.

            “’Course.” Tossing your phone back into your bag, you glared at the bar across from you. There was chargers inside, but Rosie had the keys to get in & you had no phone to call him.

            Getting out, you locked up your car before rounding to the front. There was no point in checking under the hood, you would have no idea where to look first. You had always said that one day you’d learn car stuff for shit exactly like this, but you had yet to do it. It would be next on your agenda. After getting Jules back.

            You glared into the darkness of the road. The Garage was on a long stretch of a two-lane highway. During the day it was used regularly, but as soon as night came, the only reason people were on it was to come to your place of work. There would be no one. It was then that you decided you were going to be forced to walk back home. It was only a mile or so walk, most of it being spent on the highway, but you weren’t stoked about walking down a dark, desolate highway in the middle of the night.

            But what choice did you have?

            Facing your car once more, you kicked at her tire, “See you in the morning, princess.”

            You were only about ten minutes into your walk, your jacket wrapped securely around you as you stomped along the pavement, when you heard an engine in the distance. Now, you weren’t one of those girls who thought to yourself ‘oh, kidnapping wouldn’t happen to me, that’s only in the news’. So, you had no plans to put your thumb out & hitching a ride. Even if it was a nice elderly woman. You had seen too many true crime documentaries. It was better to be distrusting then it was to trust the wrong person.

            Unlike Jules, you thought bitterly. But it wasn’t her fault. It was all Rafe’s.

            When the engine grew closer, you moved off the highway. There were no streetlights on this stretch of the highway, so the driver wouldn’t spot you until they passed you. It also helped you were wearing darker clothes. Otherwise whoever it was might get some sort of idea. And if they did spot you whether before or after they passed you, you were mentally preparing yourself to launch yourself into the woods & make a run for it.

            You glanced over your shoulder as you walked, spotting two headlights in the distance. You hoped they would hurry & pass you by so you could walk freely again without worrying about getting snatched off the road. You already had enough stress on your plate.

            The engine grew closer but as it did you could hear begin to slow down.

            Great.

            Still walking, not wanting to let whoever it was get closer, you spun around expecting to see a middle-aged man giving you a toothy smile. But the lights were so bright you couldn’t make out anything. All you could see was the silhouette of someone sitting in the drivers seat. They didn’t move closer, they didn’t signal for you, they didn’t do anything. Just idled there in the middle of the highway.

            “Alright…” You could feel panic begin to grip you. “That’s not a red flag.”

            But it didn’t stop you. You just kept walking. And as you did, you heard the truck begin to roll closer. As it did, you moved further off the highway until you were forced to walk on the dirt along the tree line.

            You breathing fast at that point. As subtly as you could, you reached into your bag, looking for your taser. You had never had to use it before but you always kept it charged in the off chance you’d need to. And now seemed like it would potentially be that time.

            “_____.”

            The sound of your name horrified you, but more than that, it was the voice that carried it.

            You spun around on your heel, staring wide-eyed as Rafe hung an arm outside his window, his eyes dead set on you.

            “What the fuck do you want?”

            “Need a ride?” He asked, ignoring your question, but there was no sense of wanting to help you in his tone.

            “Fuck no.” You spit, glaring hotly at him, “I am walking home. Carry on.”

            “I’m heading there anyway.” Rafe smirked, “Booty call. You know how it goes.”

            You made a face of disgust. He still had the audacity to talk poorly about Jules even after convincing her that you were the bad guy. But were you surprised? No, no you weren’t.

            “Just fuck off, Rafe.” You dismissed him with a flick of your hand before marching ahead. Much to your chagrin, Rafe only followed alongside you in his truck. You made sure to keep a good distance between where you walked & where his door was. If he decided to jump you again like he had at the charity gala the previous night, you wanted a head start into the woods.

            “We can talk.” He stated, “Work something out. I can get Jules to forgive you.”

            You shook your head in disbelief, running your tongue along your teeth in annoyance. He was just egging you on, wanting to get a rise out of you. Like always.

            “C’mon, you know you’re tempted.” His voice grew lower.

            “The only thing I’m tempted to do is rip your fucking throat out & shove it up your ass so you can taste your own shit.”

            “Well,” Rafe chuckled darkly, “I’d need my throat to taste it, wouldn’t I?”

            Stamping your foot against the pavement, you finally stopped to face him again, “God, can you just leave me the fuck alone?! You got Jules, you won, she fucking hates my guts. I’m the bad guy in this story, I get it. Your narrative is working out great for you, Rafe. So if you’re done boasting, please! Leave. Me. Alone.”

            He peered at you through heavily hooded eyes, an unimpressed smirk appearing on his face, “I didn’t win, _____. Jules isn’t who I want. You know that.”

            His words chilled you to your core. It was then that you were reminded of where you were, or weren’t, which was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. Just you & Rafe.

            “I just want to walk home, okay?” You felt your voice shake with fear. Rafe smiled then. He heard it, too.

            “Ad I’m offering you a ride.”

            You felt your eyes begin to water as you stared past him into the cab. If you got in the cab, there was no saying what he would do to you. Your chances were better outside of the truck.

            “Rafe—”

            “I’m not gonna ask again. Get in the truck, or I’ll fucking make you get in the truck.”

            You shook your head, taking a step back. His eyes flashed to the movement before flickering back up to yours. His gaze hardened, “Fine. My way it is.”

            Before he could shift his truck into park, you were already diving into the trees & running at a full sprint. It wasn’t a second or two later when you heard Rafe’s door slam shut before the sound of foliage being crushed sounded behind you.

            “_____!” Rafe yelled, “Get back here!”

            His voice, full of anger & determination, bounced off the trees as you ran past them & further into the woods. You couldn’t see shit in the dark & you could feel your ankles stumbling & whining in discomfort as you tried to keep your feet ahead of you on the uneven earth. Scared tears coated your cheeks as you pumped your legs, begging to any god anywhere to please get you out of there. But no divine intervention intervened.

            It was the worst feeling you could imagine when you felt a hand grip the fabric of your jacket & yank you backwards. The wind was knocked out of you when Rafe threw you to the forest floor.

            “We coulda worked this out.” Rafe huffed as he stood over you.

            You rolled onto your side, desperate for your lungs to open so you could breathe. But Rafe circled around you like a vulture getting ready for the kill. You weren’t sure you’d even get another breath of air before he stole whatever you had left.

            “We coulda talked, came to some sort of agreement!” He yelled in frustration, “But you’re just so fucking stubborn, so fucking defiant. You like that with Jack?”

            Rafe laughed darkly to himself, “Something tells me you’re not. You’re probably the most perfect woman with him.”

            You gasped sharply, painfully, when your lungs finally opened. Then you were coughing. But as you were coughing, you were searching for your bag in the dark. The taser. If you got your hands on that, you may have a chance.

            “Looking for this.” Rafe questioned.

            In the dark, you peered over at him as he held your purse by a single finger. He shook his head knowingly before gathering it in the palm of his hand & chucking it into the forest. You heard it thud somewhere in the distance. Fresh tears escaped you as Rafe used his shoe to roll you over onto your back.

            “Please, Rafe, don’t. I’m sorry for running.” You weren’t, but it was survival now to kiss up to him.

            But Rafe just stared down at you, “It’s too late for your apologies.”

            He bent at the knees then before grabbing a fistful of your hair & forcing you upwards into a sitting position. A pained whimper parted your lips, forcing you to bite your lip to stifle them.

            “What do you want then?” You cried out, your hands clinging to the grip he held on your hair.

            “Same thing as before.” Rafe responded, his voice flat & emotionless. You stopped crying to stare at him. He only gazed at you unfeelingly.

            “No.” You shook in his hold. “No!”

            You screamed & thrashed, trying to kick at him but Rafe easily overpowered you, forcing you back on your back as he climbed on top of you.

            “No! No! No!” You screamed, cried, begged over & over again. But all of your fight was falling on deaf ears. You beat your fists against his chest & back as he wrestled with you to get your jeans off. The chill of the forest erupted your skin with goosebumps & you felt like your heart was going to burst outside of your chest.

            Rafe was quick to remove his own jeans, shoving them down his thighs. Once he did, he focused on your upper half, yanking your arms out the sleeves of your jacket before pulling the top of your tube top down. You were practically fully naked in the middle of nowhere with Rafe Cameron on top of you.

            But that didn’t matter. You never stopped resisting him, never stopped trying to get him off you or hurt him. Everything you did though, it was like it didn’t register to him. Like he didn’t feel any of it. You knew Rafe was scary but this was a new level. He was a fucking monster.

            His fingers hooked around the fabric of your underwear & tugged on it until you heard the seams snap & tear. You desperately reached for the back of his hand, grabbing two handfuls of his hair before yanking as hard as you could.

            It was the first reaction Rafe gave. He hissed in response, ripping his head out from under your grasp. It was a short-lived win before you saw him raise the back of his hand & whip it across your face. A sharp gasp left you at the assault, & you tasted blood on your tongue as your lower lip burned.

            “This is what you said, _____.” Rafe snarled as he finished tearing your underwear from your body, “’Man up & give her what she deserves’. Those are your words.”

            Sobs racked your body as he repeated back to you your own demand of him.

            “That’s exactly,” He snatched you by the throat & raised you up enough until his face was only an inch away from your own, “what I’m doing. I’m giving you exactly what you deserve. What I should’ve done from the beginning.”

            He released you, & your head smacked against the soft earth but it did little to comfort the blow.

            You whimpered like a beaten & abused dog as Rafe wrestled your legs apart to fit himself snugly in between them. You placed your hands on his chest, using all your strength to prevent him from crushing you with his body but your strength was nothing compared to his. He forced your elbows to bend as he lowered himself on top of you until your chest were pressed against one another.

            “Don’t cry.” He kissed you on the side of your mouth, forcing you to whip your face away from him, “It’s nothing we haven’t done already.”

            A sharp pain shot up your spine as Rafe forced himself inside you. He chuckled darkly to himself as one of his hands caught you by your chin, forcing you to look at him. You desperately searched for anywhere else to look that wasn’t him but he was all you could see. That smug & evil smirk, the glint & prideful glow in his eyes. It only grew worse when he began to groan as he snapped his hips against yours.

            Your fingers dug themselves into the earth as Rafe raped you on the forest floor. You were hyperventilating beneath him, unfeeling from the waist down, but it was a nightmare you couldn’t wake up from. You wished you could do what some women had reported happening when they were raped & how they were able to shut off their mind & go anywhere else, but yours wasn’t doing that. It was happening & you couldn’t stop it.

            Rafe tucked his face into your neck as he moaned loudly & freely, like a predator having caught his unwilling prey in the world of beasts. No one was coming. No one could hear your cries. This was Darwinism at it’s finest. Only the strong survived.

            Your tears had stopped but you were still panting, staring past Rafe’s head at the tops of the trees. You couldn’t make out the night sky beyond them. Everywhere you looked was pitch darkness, & you saw it most whenever Rafe forced you to look at him while he fucked you to his hearts content.

            It felt like hours before he finally came. He growled like the beast he was as he thrusted himself inside you as deep as he could go. You groaned in pain as your hips flared at the stretch of them. Your body shook beneath him as he stilled completely above you. But you could still feel his cock spitting his seed inside of you. The fact of that made bile rise in your throat.

            Rafe rolled off you a second later, hissing as his own body shook with the aftershocks of his orgasm. An ungodly burning & stinging pain originated from between your legs & you were terrified to see what he did to you.

            Then he started laughing. It wasn’t the loud, jovial kind you often heard in your bar, but the snarky, cocky kind that reminded you exactly of who he was in high school. You had heard it plenty of times.

            “God, that was good.” Rafe breathed out, “My imagination whenever I fuck Jules doesn’t even come close to that.”

            Jules’ face flashed through your mind & you rushed upwards. You turned to the side, holding your stomach as you bent over & vomited. Tears returned to your eyes, blurring your already dizzying vision as you emptied what little contents were in your stomach. As you continued to only throw up stomach acid & a few bites of food, you felt a hand on your back.

            A fit of fury came over you & you lashed out at Rafe as he attempting to comfort you. After he just raped you! It was a joke.

            But Rafe yowled as you swung your arm at him. This stole your attention & you peered through your dirtied hair as Rafe held his face. When he removed his hand to inspect his hand, you marveled at the three scratch marks going from his forehead down over his right eye & ending on his cheek.

            All you could do was start laughing. And then you couldn’t stop. You were laughing hysterically, pointing at Rafe like he was a kid on the playground who just got humiliated in front of everyone. He snarled at you, knocking your hand away & catching you by the throat.

            “You think that’s funny?” He sneered.

            You grinned, still laughing despite your air being restricted. Rafe growled before throwing you back to the forest floor.

            “I’ll tell you what’s funny, _____.” He yanked on your shoulder, turning you over to face him, “Here’s the deal. And its your only two options so I’d listen real fucking close.”

            You glared up at him, wanting nothing more than to finished what claws did & tear his skin completely from his face.

            “You’re gonna get in my fucking truck, we’re going to the apartment, & you’re going to go to your room. I’m going into Jules & I’m either going to A. break up with her & tell her we’re together or B. do to her what I just did to you. And I’ll do far worse to her.”

            The threat forced your panic riddled body to leap upwards, “Don’t!”

            “I won’t, unless you make me. That’s your choice, _____. I either stay with her & hurt her every fucking day, or I get you & I’ll never lay a finger on her.”

            You shook your head, staring up at him, “Please, Rafe, you got what you wanted. Just leave us alone.”

            He sighed, kneeling down to be eye level with you, “I want you. All of you. All the time. And for everyday I go without that, Jules will suffer.”

            Imagining Rafe doing to Jules what he just did to you forced fresh sobs from you. You covered your mouth to stifle the cries. You couldn’t let him do that to her. You didn’t care if it meant she’d hate you forever. You just couldn’t let him hurt her. No one deserved that. Not even you. But were strong. You may have been Rafe’s prey that night, but you were a survivor. But if you knew what Rafe was doing to Jules every day in & night out, you’d never be able to live with yourself. One way or another, someone was getting hurt. You knew it had to be you.

            “So?” Rafe tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “We have a deal?”

            You leaned away from his touch, but peered up at him through your wet lashed.

            Rafe saw the resolve in your eyes. He grinned devilishly.

            Only the strong survive, you repeated to yourself.

            Only the strong survive.

i'm fuckin' whipped, babes. like whhhhhiiiipped. i cannot believe i cranked this out in less than 12 hours but fuck. i. did. it.

this is 3/10 requests from my 500 followers celebration request opening!

as always, please share your thoughts w me via commenting, reblogging w reviews, or talking to me in the ask box. i'm super antsy to here what ya'll think of this ridiculously lengthy one shot.

thank you for reading! & thank you for the anon who requested, i hope they are happy!

oona<3

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[americanwh0rerstory]

Jack off [tate langdon] P.2

Summery: whilst trying to get off for the umpteenth time that day, Y/N walks in and catches him

A/N: thanks for all the support on part 1, somebody suggested a part two but i cant remember who it is. but whoever it was, here you go :)

content warnings: use of panties to get off, repeated use of Y/N, m!masturbation, guilt tripping, Dub-con, unprotected p in v, choking, cumming over tits, gentle aftercare

MDNI. SMUT BELOW THE CUT. CONSUMPTION IS YOUR CHOICE

“shit” tate groans as he rubs your panties against his cock, the lacy material sliding up and down his shaft at lightning speed. he bucked into his hand as he sped up, his eyes fluttering shut when that familiar feeling of euphoria began to course through his veins. he was close.

“Y/N… oh fuck Y/N” he whimpered, speeding up his pace yet again. his breathing was laboured, coming out in shaky and ragged breaths in between the whines of pleasure that escaped from between his parted lips. he was so close, fucking your panties like there was no tomorrow, when he was interrupted.

“tate?” you say with confusion, seeing your ghostly companion sprawled onto your bed and fucking your panties like a god damn perv. your eyebrows knitted in confusion as you look over at him from the doorway,

he stayed silent when he saw you, the panties still wrapped around his cock but now not moving at all. he was just caught like a deer in headlights, staring at you with wide eyes as if he expected you to reprimand him.

“i-i’m sorry” he stammered hurriedly whilst trying to control his breathing. he quickly tucked himself away back into his jeans out of embarrassment, the last thing he wanted was for you to hate him. “do you hate me? are you mad? i’ll go if you want me too, i’ll never bother you again if that’s what you want”

you stare back at him, not knowing what to say. there was billions of words you could say yet none of them would come to mind. you felt guilty for walking in on him and making him feel like you hated him, you didn’t want him to think that you hated him because it was far from it. the guilt was sickening and only one thing came to mind. so with a gentle tone you uttered only 2 words that seemed right: “don’t go”

he looked up at you from the bed when he heard that, the tiniest glimmer of hope in his eyes. it was the hope that you didn’t hate him, the hope that maybe he gets to fuck you, the tiniest slither of hope for anything out of you.

“do you… wanna help me out?” he asked with hesitance, trying to mask his happiness over the fact that you was in no position to refuse. surely the guilt would make you accept, right?

“you won’t need to do much, im close already. just this quick one, please?” he begs, looking up at you through his lashes with a look of desperation written over his face. “it doesn’t matter that i’m a ghost, we can still fuck” he adds on the end

with a gentle nod of your head you gave him the sign he was looking for, and he wasted no time whatsoever. within seconds he was sliding his pants and boxers down to his ankles and standing at the foot of the bed. you took that as your cue to lay back so once you had stripped down to absolutely nothing, you lay down and looked up at tate for what he’s planning on doing next

he pumped into his hand a few times, working a bead of precum over his shaft as a small bit of lubricant. he did that before dragging his tip along your already soaked slit, teasing you a little before he did anything. it didn’t take long for him to push into your waiting hole, slowly sliding his length into you

“so much better than i thought” he murmurs with a satisfied groan, already getting pussy drunk before he had even began. he gave you few moments to adjust before he pushed you into a mating press and began to thrust, his heavy balls slapping against your own skin with every deep thrust tate made.

he used one hand to choke you whilst he thrusted, the lack of oxygen made you feel dizzy but also made it pleasurable, your head spinning whilst the only noises you could make were whines and moans of sheer pleasure. each thrust hit your g-spot, causing you to choke a little on the loud moan that attempted to escape your throat. his thrusts were lazy but deep and rough at the same time, each thrust bringing you more pleasure than you had ever felt.

the repeated hits of your g-spot made you begin to feel that knot in your stomach, that familiar feeling akin to a volcanic eruption in the sense that you too was going to burst at any given second. through the garbled moans, you managed to stammer out that you was close to cumming, looking up at tate with pleading doe eyes.

“cum f’ me” he moans out as he pumped faster into you, bringing himself closer and closer as he pounded into you. the entire bed was rocking and shaking but it didn’t deter him from the act, not in the slightest. when on the brink of orgasm, he pulled out and sprayed his load all over your perky breasts and hardened nipples. the sight of you covered in his seed caused him to smirk in between groans of pleasure. after so long yearning for you, he finally got you.

you too also came. your cunt clenched around nothing whilst your back arched and you saw stars. the knot in your stomach coming undone in one big messy orgasm. it left you shaking, breathless, and coated in tate’s cum.

Once the pair of you came down from your joint orgasms, he grabbed a warm towel and wiped you clean, an almost caring look in his eyes. when he finished that, he lay beside you and cuddled into your warm body; a stark contrast to his ghostly cold one.

“you was great, you did great. maybe later we can go do something else? once we’ve had time to relax of course” he mumbled against your neck, a gentle reassurance that he didn’t want you just for sex, he genuinely likes you.

[yongbokology]

eren finding out he’s been beating his dick to his best friend of ten years

part two

black coded reader <3

warnings; self explanatory, not proof read

this happened on a random friday night. eren had gotten home from one of the worst shifts he’s ever endured and needed to relieve some stress. for the past few months eren found himself frequently visiting one particular nsfw twitter account.

he found it a few months ago, same scenario, needed to relieve some stress yada yada.

after scrolling endlessly for the perfect video to get off to, his thumb comes to a complete stop once he sees you riding your pink dildo like your life depended on it. his volume was on max and the sounds that escaped your lips hit him like a freight train.

your ass faced him as you let out a string of obscenities. “f-fuck.” “ngh, shit!”

he found himself instantly tightening his grip on his cock and stroking himself to the rhythm of your hips working against your hot pink toy, covered in your orgasm.

your face was nowhere in sight but eren didn’t really give a fuck about what you looked like. he needed a quick fix and you were giving it to him.

before he knows it, he finds himself getting off to your videos almost every day.. abandoning pornhub completely and not checking for other nsfw accounts he was familiar with.

he doesn’t think about it in moment but one day your phone is perched in a way where he can see a little more than what you normally show. he sees the full canvas of your back but what really catches his eyes is the small birthmark on your shoulder. his eyes linger on it for a split second before putting all his focus back to getting his nut off.

…

“it’s hot as fucking balls, we should’ve came at like nighttime or some shit.” connie complains, fanning himself while being consumed by the scorching sun that peered down at the beach.

“relax it’s not supposed to be like this all day, con,” you reassure him, shrugging off your clothes in the process. you were for sure gonna get tan lines. “historia can you get my back with the sun screen please?”

eren was busying himself with helping reiner set up the beach tent but spared a quick glance at you while reiner was trying to fix the side he was holding. his brows knit together when he catches a glimpse of your birthmark. in the moment he doesn’t know why it throws him off. you’ve known each other for so long that it wasn’t his first time seeing it but something about it in that particular moments left him puzzled.

…

it’s another night, eren is once again in his lonesome with nothing better to cope with than fucking himself.

of course, he goes to your account and sees that you posted something two hours ago. he licks his lips in anticipation as he clicks on the video.

at this point he’s a minute in and already close to cumming. eren found himself cumming faster to you than he normally did with other partners he’s been with and he isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. (he chalks it up to him being involuntarily celibate for months)

but during the 60 second mark he glances behind you and catches a glimpse of something just mere centimeters away from you. the checkered logo that eren saw literally almost everyday for the last two years.

it’s the hoodie of the autobody shop he worked at. he stops pumping his dick, panting heavily, on the brink of a beyond satisfactory orgasm. his eyes are nearly bulging out his head when you take the hoodie up to your nose and a soft moan flowing out your plush lips as you take a sniff of the fabric.

you stop riding your dildo, laying hoodie on a pillow, mounting said pillow and eren can’t even bring himself to fathom what happens next.

you begin grinding your wet cunt against the hoodie he’d lent to only one person.

in that moment eren just realized he’d been pleasuring himself for several months to his best friend that he’d known since forever and the worst part is? he nutted all over his phone without even finishing pumping his dick.

[carolmunson]

baby, as if (part 1)

recommended listening: as if - blaque (2000) summary: your on and off again situationship just so happens to be the tri-state area's friendly neighborhood drug dealer. the robinhood of the the neighborhood. and you couldn't be any more toxic with each other. does the playboy know how to play nice when you start seeing someone new? dark!modern!drugdealer!fboy!eddie (but when i say modern i mean anywhere between the 2010s and 2020s. everyone is in their late twenties in this fic tho. except reefer rick.)

WARNING: 21+, minors DNI. this is a DARK piece of fanfiction. if you are sensitive to topics regarding threats of violence, references to abuse, active fighting between a couple, severely toxic relationships, manipulation, coercion, depictions of violence, drug use, alcohol use, potential gun violence, controlling behavior, blatant endangerment, threats of financial abuse, harsh name calling, and anything regarding genuine bad relationship content i would not recommend reading this work. this is not like my sadist!eddie fictions -- reader and eddie are NOT in a healthy relationship -- he is NOT A GOOD GUY in this. this fic does NOT contain non-con or dub-con. DEAD DOVE. DO NOT EAT on all warnings tho.

Two Months Ago

The screaming had both of your throats hoarse. Yelling from inside the club to the walk to the Camaro. The bouncers were so used to it by now that they just rolled their eyes. Not that they'd bother concerning themselves with the man whose always slipping them fifties so they'll let his friends in.

The screaming had both of your throats hoarse. Yelling from inside the club to the walk to the Camaro. The bouncers were so used to it by now that they just rolled their eyes. Not that they'd bother concerning themselves with the man whose always slipping them fifties so they'll let his friends in.

"You think I give A FUCK about you?! You think I -- HEY! HEY! GET IN THE FUCKIN' CAR. I'm talkin' to you!" "FUCK OFF! 'Get in the fuckin' car' -- fuck you, don't tell me what the fuck to do," you half yell while you click through the parking lot passed the car that's just roared to life.

He barrels around the hood, grill blowing smoke in the cold air from the heat. The parking lot is wet and your heels aren’t doing you any favors while you stumble over to the asphalt to call a cab. He growls when he gets to you with a grip so tight on your bicep that you yelp.

“Always out here fuckin’ embarrassing me,” he grumbles while he drags you toward the passengers seat of of the open car, “You drunk bitch.”

“You’re drunk,” you mumble, crossing your arms while he slams the door behind you. He takes his keys out while he walks around the front, falling into the deep bucket driver's seat. When he puts the key in and the engine revs loud, you groan. He revs it again just to fuck with you.

"Can you just fucking drive?" you shrill, "God, who're you trying to fucking impress out here?"

He pulls out of his spot and squeals out of the lot onto the street, immediately seething, "Who am I try'na impress? Me?"

"Alright, heeeere we go," you roll your eyes, street lights catching in your vision -- there and gone and there and gone. It's like they go all the way back to your brain. The lights spin with you.

He presses on the gas when you make it on the highway, speeding dangerously when he gets his hand on the clutch. He swerves between cars, one hand gripping the wheel, the other sits on his thigh. His brows are knitted together in a scowl.

"Don't you pull that 'here we go' shit, you always gotta fucking START somethin'," his free hand slaps down on the center console and the sound makes you jump, "Can't you ever shut the fuck up? Huh?"

You grin, it's the tequila -- it always made you a little excited for a fight, "Ooh, look how mad you are. You don't give a fuck about me right? RIGHT?! So what're you mad for?! What're you mad for?"

"Ooh-hoo-hoo, you piss me the fuck off. See what fuckin' happens if you keep runnin' your mouth," he grumbles, eyes getting dark. He reaches into his leather jacket pocket at a red light, pouring a bump of coke out on the back of his thumb. He snorts it loud because he knows you hate the sound of it.

"If you don't give a fuck then why are you so mad I danced with that guy? You were pretty busy with Jess and Shauna in the back room so why'd you make me leave the club?" you ask, taking the baggie out of his hand. He snatches it back roughly.

"Cause you looked stupid," he says like it's obvious, pressing on the gas again, "Like some dumb easy slut, all fucking over him. And when you look stupid, you make me look stupid. I don't fucking like that, I don't need people to think I keep bitches like that around me. You're so fuckin' sloppy."

"Oh, so lines off a stripper's tits doesn't make you look stupid?" you jeer, "Throwin' ones doesn't make you look stupid?"

He turns to look at you, "You're so dumb. How's throwing ones gonna make me look stupid?"

"You know what? You're right. It doesn't make you look stupid."

He huffs out of his nose, eyes rolling, an angry smirk flashing his teeth in the streetlights. You take a second, smiling at your reflection in the windsheild.

"It makes you look broke."

“Oh, I’m broke? I’m fuckin’ — " he speeds so fast your head hits the headrest, “I’m fucking broke? Who bought the heels you got on? I’m fucking broke?”

“I don’t ask for shit from you, you’re a fucking bum!” you yell back, “You’re such a fucking bum.”

“You want me to get your fuckin’ phone shut off? I’m a bum but I’m paying for your fuckin’ phone?” he yells back, swerving as he peels down the back roads towards Hawkins.

“Oh shut the fuck up, you f—”

“How’re you gonna pay for it, huh? Tips at the fuckin' diner aren't cuttin' it — should I start sellin' those videos you send me?”

Possessed, your hand comes out to smack him hard upside the head while he turns down the street, coming to a stop at a light, “Why do you always gotta say some dumb shit?”

You shove him, hands coming at him to to it again but he grabs your wrist in a bruising grip, "You think that's smart? What happened the last time you put your hands on me, huh?"

He shakes you by the wrist, eyes flashing erratically, "Huh?!"

"Want me to break your wrist again?" he challenges, fingers wrapping tighter, cutting off the circulation to your hand.

You get quiet, still fuming, but his hold on your wrist is starting to throb. You shake your head 'no'.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," he huffs, shoving your arm back at you while the light turns, "So shut the fuck up."

You both stay silent after the threat, he slows down when he gets into Hawkins, leaning back in his seat and chewing at a hang nail on his thumb. The steady thrum of the music in his car and the liquor in your body take over and before you know it, the liquor wins. Eye drifting closed with every streetlight you pass.

Your eyes open with a start, stomach lurching while you fumble for the door handle in the car. You heave out of the crack in the door, murky hot liquid pouring out of you with each wretch. You take a deep breath through your nose when you're done and rub your eyes. It was still dark out, the lights in Eddie's trailer were on.

You reach for your phone in your purse by your feet, eyes bleary when you click it on to see your lock screen.

4:37 AM

You groan -- you were dragged out of left the club at 2, there's no way it took almost three hours to get home. It was only 45 minutes away.

So he just fucking left me in here?

You get out of the car, slamming the door so hard that you were disappointed it didn't shatter the window. You take off your heels on the stairs to the door of his trailer, feet hitting the wet grass -- it centers you for a moment. The chill in the air hits you and you shiver -- you're dehydrated and tired, but puking knocks your hangover right out of you. Maybe you could get him to just drive you home so you could get some sleep before your shift at 3.

The door is unlocked which is unusual but what you walk into isn't. He's making out with the neck of some girl who lives a few trailers down, her hips grinding against the kitchen counter she's propped up on, his ringed hand gripping her bare tits with her tank top pulled under them. He's changed into a pair of black sweatpants, tattoos dark against his pale chest and arms, his other hand teasing her over her pajama shorts. Her breathy moans ring in your ears and you let out a sigh. Of course.

You put your phone, purse, and heels on the kitchen table -- clearing your throat to get their attention. The girls face snaps to attention, red as a tomato when she sees you there with your arms crossed.

"What the--" Eddie starts when she pushes him away from her, hastily covering her chest and pulling up her tank.

"What the fuck? Who is this?!" she shrills, hopping off the counter and reaching for her white puffer coat on the table.

"I don't fucking know Trista, can you calm the fuck down?" he lies through his teeth like he was born to do it.

"You're such a fucking asshole, Ed," she barks, "See if I come here at 4 in the morning anymore. You fucking dick." Trista slips on her knock off Uggs and wrenches open the trailer door, slamming it behind her. You stifle a giggle as he turns to you, eyes angry.

"Look what you did," he huffs, "Always gotta ruin shit for everybody."

"Are you fucking with me right now?" you ask, eyes wide, "You just left me in the fucking car?! Was I supposed to just walk at 4 in the morning?"

"Your phone works, you could've called an Uber and gone the fuck home," he snaps, grabbing a half empty Fiji water bottle from the fridge, "I told Trista she could come over and now you fucked up her whole night."

"Her whole night, or are you mad you didn't get your dick wet?" you tease, "Looks like you're just pissed you didn't get to hit."

He reaches into his sweatpants pocket, opening his phone up to a text, looking at the screen while he speaks to you, "Why did Rick tell me you gave that guy your number?"

"Again," you start, "And I'll speak slowly, since I know how hard it was for you to graduate high school -- Why. The fuck. Do you care?"

"Because he knows you fuck around with me and my friends," he steps to you like you're his prey, "You don't know him, he might be working for someone else."

You step backwards, used to this kind of waltz, doing anything you can to not get trapped between him and a wall. It always ends badly for the wall. Sometimes it ends badly for you.

"He might be trying to get to me or Rick, or anyone else. And since you're always on Instragram posting where the fuck you're at, it'll be pretty easy for him to find us," he warns. Sometimes every sentence he said to you felt like an insult, but that's how you learned to be just as bad.

"Trying to find you? Who are you?" you laugh, dodging when his hand reaches out to grab you, "You swear you're special. You deal drugs in Indiana. You're barely moving big shit here."

"You love to fucking lie, don't you?" he asks, finally catching you roughly by the jaw, "You love just saying shit. You're always tryin' to piss me off."

"Don't fucking touch me," you hiss, smacking his hand away from you. He catches you again by the wrist and in the light you can see the bruises starting to surface from when he grabbed you in the car. You yelp again when he closes his tattooed fingers around you, re-awakening the pain.

"What did I say in the car? About you putting your hands on me?" he pulls you towards him so you're chest to chest, peering down at you with bloodshot eyes.

You're able to pull out of this grip, shoving past him to get your stuff off the table, clicking your phone on again, "Well he didn't even text me so, I don't know what you're so mad about."

"I know he didn't 'cause Rick and the guys made him delete all your shit from his phone," he says, leaning against the counter.

"Seriously?" you huff, turning back around, heels in hand, "What's fucking wrong with you? You're always doing this shit. I can't fuck around with any of the guys I know, I can't fuck around with guys I meet anywhere else -- you don't want me, so why don't I get to do anything?"

"What was his name?" Ed asks, crossing his arms, "The guy you gave your number to. What was his name? If you can tell me, we'll go find him and I'll let you put your number back in his phone. Fuck it, I'll put your number back in his phone." You click your tongue, crossing your arms with an eye roll, "Fuck off, Ed."

"Exactly," he responds, "You just wanted to act like a slut at the club. Don't even care who it is as long as you're gettin' some attention."

"Okay?" you shrug, "And how're you better? You were about to be balls deep in Trista for what?"

"Cause I wanted to fuck. Are you serious?" he laughs.

"You don't even know her last name."

"Oh I don't? Trista Katradowski? 24 years old in her last year of nursing school? Moved here in 2011 with her mama and little brother Trey? Daddy's in jail in Jacksonville?" he takes a careful step closer to you with every word until he's caging you in against the table, leaning in close enough that you can smell the liquor on his breath, his skin mixed with his cologne, "What is it? You jealous?"

His lips linger over yours for a moment, noses brushing, his bangs graze your eyebrows, "Wouldn't've let her come over if you didn't pass out."

"You shouldn't of just left me in the car," you mumble, avoiding eye contact with him. If you look at him you'll let him fuck you, and you're stronger than that now, "Someone coulda--"

"Coulda what? Broken into the Camaro?" he asks, letting his hand find your waist, "I think everyone over here knows better than to mess around with my stuff, right?"

He waits a moment to continue, voice softening into something gentle. He nuzzles against your cheek, "C'mon, did you really think I'd let someone hurt you? Have I ever?"

"Stop," you whine. It's hard when he starts to talk sweet to you. He's like a magnet. He smiles so pretty, he has such a way of making it feel like you're the only person he's like this with. You duck out under his hold and walk to the bathroom, rinsing your mouth out with whatever mouthwash he had left over in the medicine cabinet.

"C'mon," he whispers softly, lips dragging over your shoulder. He presses his hips against you, pinning you between him and the sink, "Stop acting like you don't want it. Lemme make you feel good." "I'm about to take a shower," you mumble, shaking him off -- like you weren't both just screaming at eachother. He looks at you in the mirror, brows knitting together, his jaw clenches.

"I need to shower, too," he murmurs, kissing your ear, "Don't make me waste all that extra hot water."

"You're not showering with me," your voice raises slightly, trying to ignore how good his lips feel when they ghost over the back of your neck. His hands find the hem of your dress, the stretchy fabric smoothing over your hips while he starts to take it off. "Don't be like that. Not after you made Trista leave. S'not fair," he says. His fingertips trail over the front of your thighs, the outsides of your hips before his big hands smooth over your waist and tummy. He pushes the dress further up over the swell of your breasts, bra tight over them. You let him take your dress off for you, sighing when he does.

The soft glow of the early morning starts to peak through the window, that dark blue to light blue to orange. His lips are pillowy, pressing against your shoulder again while his hands roam your chest over the cup of your bra. He bought it for you.

"C'mon, bend over," he urges again, you can feel how hard he is against your thigh. And fuck, you want to. You want him to make you feel good, he's the only one who knows how -- he made sure of that. You want to but you shouldn't, you don't need to. He's so bad for you. You're bad for each other. It always goes like this. He'll fuck you and treat you sweet after you fight for a few days or weeks, and then he'll forget you exist for however long until he wants it again. Not you. Whatever 'it' is you have with each other. This give and take, push and pull. Never close enough but definitely close enough. It hurts worse every time.

"I'm not doing this with you again," you shove him off and he sighs an angry sigh before pulling off his sweatpants and opening the glass door behind him. You hear the water turn on and groan.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" you ask, "I just told you I was--"

"Don't you got a shower at home?" he asks, "Bye."

"You're fucking annoying," you growl, slamming on the frosted glass.

"You can get in with me, or you can leave," he says, "I don't give a fuck what you do."

You know he really doesn't.

You slip off your bra and underwear, angry at the throbbing between your legs winning over your brain for the millionth time. You open the door, spice scented steam hitting your face and seeing his with a soft smile on it.

"C'mere," he mumbles, pulling you forward against his soapy skin. Why did he have to smell so good? Look so good?

"We're not fucking," you declare, standing in the spray of the water. He nods still covered in lather, finger reaching out to brush over the fingertip shaped bruises on your bicep from when he pulled you over to the car earlier. He tuts to himself, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry, baby," he says softly, letting his hand fall back to your waist. Your heart hammers at the word, even more so when he pulls you in close against him. He hums low in his chest when you lean your cheek on his tattooed chest, hand coming up to smooth your hair off your face.

"You only call me that when you want something," you murmur, eyes closing while his fingers trail down your back with the water. You're the only person he calls 'baby' like that, and even then it's far and few between. It's his secret weapon, his silver tongued magic spell -- you get so pliant, so dizzy. So wanted. So claimed.

"You're already givin' me what I want," he says softly, "Look how sweet you get f'me. You get so nice."

His fingers slide between the two of you, you're half expecting him to take care of his hard on but instead he slips his first and second finger between your legs. You sigh into the feeling, reaching for his shoulder. He looks down at you with a merciless grin.

"Such a dirty girl, aren't you?" he teases, voice sliding down from soft to salaicious.

"Yeah," you breathe out, face melting while he keeps a perfect pace on your clit.

He mocklingly matches your expression, voice lilting, "Yeah? That feel good?"

"Yeah, it feels good," you whine back through gritted teeth, already close from how he teases you. Your thighs shake around his wrist when the pleasure starts to build in waves in your lower belly. "You want me to use my tongue? Taste you?" he asks, a little hitch in your breath answers for him. He likes asking you so plainly 'cause that little blush you get drives him insane. He smiles dipping down to your neck, tongue striping up to catch the water dripping down it onto your collar bone, "Yeah? You want me to lick it?"

"Please," you beg, eyes rolling when his other hand slides between your legs from behind, massaging over your entrance. So fucking wet, he mumbles to himself. He takes his hands away, kissing slowly down your front while turning you over. He doesn't have to ask you to bend forward, your body does it on instinct -- pressing your face up against the tile wall, holding onto the inlet soap dish for some support. He bites the back of your thigh when he gets to his knees, hard enough for you to hiss. He groans when you do, taking a wet hand and smacking your ass hard before gripping both cheeks in his hands. You feel him push them apart, thumbs separating your lips with a slick click, tongue laving over your exposed pussy.

"Ohmigod," you gasp, "Oh that's--Oh fuck." "Mmm, yeah?" he moans into you, eyes closing when he pushes himself deeper against you, forehead pressed against your ass. You can hear the flick of his tongue against your folds, gliding through wetness. Your eyes close, legs starting to quake as he creeps further forward.

"Open up, princess," he murmurs against your thigh, "Gonna cum on my tongue, huh?"

You open your legs but he doesn't go to your clit like you expected, he stays slipping over your folds and back down to your opening, wet muscles fighting each other before easing in one finger. You let out a shaky breath as he breaches your walls, hips bouncing back against the digit. You don't see it, but he smirks at how easy it was to get you like this. He tongue ventures further back, letting his other hand spread one of your ass cheeks where he stripes over your tight hole. He grins at the sound you make, he knows how dirty it makes you feel to like when he does that. But you get so wet when he works his tongue there, getting you nice and relaxed while your cunt pulses around his finger.

"You like that?" he asks, teeth grazing the fat there. Your hips pushing back against his mouth answers enough, your hand reaching back to rake against his wet curls. He obliges happily, a second finger slipping between your legs while your moans mix with the thrum of the water hitting the shower floor.

"Turn around," he suggests, guiding your hips so your back is against the wall. He puts a leg over his shoulder to get better access to you, mouth latching to your clit the moment he can reach it. He looks up at you, brown eyes eager for you to come undone -- but he's not looking at you lovingly. He's challenging you, and himself, to see how fast he can get you to do it. You start to shake when his tongue flutters at the same time his fingers curl to press against your g-spot.

"Fuck, fuck, Ed -- m'comingm'comingm'coming --" you moan out, little squeals coming out of you while he eats you through it, taking his fingers out and collecting your cum in his mouth. He stands up quickly, pressing you up against the wall with his body, his big ringed hand reaching down to wrap one of your legs around his waist. Eddie eases in slow, watching your eyes roll back when he presses in to the hilt, holding in there for a moment so you really feel him. He takes a shaky breath when he starts to thrust into you, a barely audible ah shit, so tight coming out from the back of his throat.

He presses his forehead against yours, deep breaths puffing against your closed eyes while he pumps slowly into you, "You like feeling me like this? Nice and slow?"

You nod against him, unable to talk with how deep he's hitting. His hand cups your jaw, guiding you to look up at him. Your noses brush but you know he won't kiss you, he never does, he hasn't in a long time.

His thumb traces over your lower lip, pulling it down and then letting it go. His thrusts pick up when you make eye contact, his eyes are dark, locked on yours. Eddie's hand hoists your thigh up against his hip a little higher, using that leverage to get deeper inside you.

"Oh fuck, you feel so fucking good," he huffs, face dropping to your neck. You cry out when he pulls your skin between his teeth, sucking and biting at you, leaving marks that everyone will see at work later. Everyone will know who left them. He makes them impossible to cover up, "Thought about this pretty pussy all night."

The head waitress, Sandra, will ask why you 'keep seein' that boy', Phil in the kitchen will shake his head at you -- asking why you won't go on a date with his son. 'Atleast he's got a respectable job!'

But if it wasn't for Eddie, the diner would still have broken windows from when it was robbed last year. If it wasn't for Eddie -- the diner would probably would have closed entirely.

"Ed, I'm gonna -- oh, like that -- M'gonna cum," you gasp, gripping his shoulder. He doesn’t speed up, he knows better, he keeps the same solid steady pace — a touch rougher than before.

“Look at me when you cum,” he mutters, “Wanna watch you.”

“Eddie please,” you whine, eyes shining when they meet his. He holds your head in place by your jaw, leering over you while you babble, “OhmyfuckingGod, ohmygod Eddie — Ed, oh —“

“That’s it, say my name,” he grunts, breaking into a smile, "Gettin' me close, talkin' like that." He feels you pulse and gush hard around him, thumb getting back to your lips where you take it into your mouth obediently -- leaving him to chase his own orgasm. Every whimper out of your mouth makes his cock twitch 'cause he knows he's got you feeling good. Every clench around him is another orgasm won -- he wanted to wear you out, watch you need to hold on to him to get out of the shower. Make you immediately text your friends about how you let him fuck you again but it was 'sooo good' so it's fine.

White heat hits his belly and he pulls out, pumping himself a few times before spurts of cum paint your tummy and thighs.

"Shit, shit -- fuck, baby, that -- shiiit that's so good," he breathes out. He leans against the wall opposite down while he comes down, reaching for his shampoo, continuing to shower like he didn't just blow your mind.

You shake a little while you open the shower door to get a fresh wash cloth from under the sink, sighing when the hot water hits you again. You lather up with his soap, you'll smell like him all day now -- it's like he plans it. Like he does it on purpose.

You don't speak for the rest of the shower, just in bodies. You both stood there in the water for a little after you were both done washing your hair. Hands traveling, lips gliding, but never against eachother's. You know better than to ask if you can just sleep here.

He grabs you a towel and watches you dry off, remnants of him scattered on your skin in shades of lilac and magenta, faded yellows and taupes. You wince when you run your fingers over the hickeys he left you, examining them in the mirror. He leaves you to get dressed alone, walking into his room to tug on a pair of jeans, slipping on an old t-shirt and a black hoodie to slip his leather jacket over.

You both appear in the hallway at the same time, back in your dress from the club with your heels in your hand.

"Don't wear those heels out anymore," he says, eyes lingering on the stilletto point of the heel.

"You bought them for me," you say, looking at the ground.

"Okay, and?" he responds, grabbing his keys when you both walk into the kitchen. You grab your purse and your phone, seeing a couple of notifications but he puts his hand to your cheek before you can read them.

"Hey," he says, "Look'it me."

You look up at him, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth while he speaks.

"You gonna wear them out again?" he asks softly.

"No," you respond, still spacey from your orgasms, "I can throw them out."

"Don't do that, baby," he laughs, pressing a kiss to your cheek near your ear, "They can be just for me."

Everything always is anyway.

He yawns at a red light on the ride back to your apartment, driving much slower and level headed now. The sun was starting to rise over Hawkins, pink and soft -- cotton candy skies after a bitter pill night. You ached between your legs, your wrist throbbed, but your heart was swollen with the sound of him saying 'Baby, baby, baby,' over and over again.

"You want a coffee?" he asks softly, pulling into a drive thru.

"Uh, yeah, sure," you answer.

"Whad'dyou want?"

"Just a small hot coffee with milk," you mumble.

"You gotta speak up," he says, tapping his head back on the head rest while he rolls up to the speaker.

"Just a small hot coffee with milk and sugar," you say a little louder. He leans forward to order, getting himself a black coffee. He pulls around and his free hand finds your thigh while you wait. The touch makes you hold your breath, he squeezes and then soothes, the rings feeling colder from the lack of heat in the car. He passes you your coffee and then puts his in the cup holder.

"Just Venmo me three bucks," he says, pulling out from the window and back onto the road.

"Pfft," you huff. Three fucking dollars? You reach into your purse and take out a folded up five and put it on the center console.

"Keep the change," you spit out.

"You wanna get out and walk?" he asks, shoulders tensing.

"You couldn't cover a three dollar coffee?" you ask back, eyes narrowing. His head turns to you, knowing the streets so well he barely has to look at them.

"Thought I was broke? Isn't that what you said?" he smirks when your jaw clenches. He grabs the fiver and tucks it into his pocket, turning up the stereo -- part way through Metallica's 'For Whom The Bell Tolls'. You put your phone in the cup holder while you drink your coffee, a fatigue headache building behind your eyes with every tree you pass.

"Tired?" he asks. You just nod, forehead pressing against the cool window.

"Me too," he mutters, followed by another big yawn. The Camaro turns down your street, stopping in front of the two-family home you live on the second floor of. A small one bedroom, but by the grace of God you made enough at the diner to pay for it. Your mom still lived in your childhood home on the other side of town with your little brother. A small one family with dirt cheap rent that she still couldn’t afford since your dad died three years ago. Eddie paid your mama’s rent, too.

Your daddy was the manager at the auto shop and your mama cut hair out of your kitchen -- still does. Eddie started working with your dad when he got out of high school and treated him like a son. He’d always talk about how it was great practice for when your brother got older since he was such a handful. Outside of Eddie’s uncle, your parents were some of the few adults to really care for him. They were able to see him for his talents instead of his setbacks. They never even judged him for selling drugs (‘You gotta do what you gotta do,’ they’d say, ‘He was dealt a rough hand, he’s just making the most of what he does best.'). He’d spend a lot of time at your house, come to family game nights when Wayne was at the plant. Your dad would do all the older father and son stuff he couldn’t do with your brother yet. They’d invite his uncle, too.

But when your daddy died of a heart attack, your family didn't really know what to do. Things had always been 'almost comfortable' with finances, some months going better than others. Money went from almost comfortable to 'What're we gonna do?' very quickly. Eddie had taken care of the funeral costs, now at a level with Rick that he was moving bricks out of state. He was bordering on being a main supplier for parts of Michigan and Ohio, every cop on the way paid off with women and pills. Every cop paid off with money and a threat.

Once he was able to get Wayne set up with his own place and Eddie took over the trailer, he started paying for your mom. At first he did it anonymously, he didn't want your mom to feel like he didn't think she could do it on her own -- it's just that she shouldn't have to. Eddie felt like he owed it to your family, especially your little brother, to take care of the people who took care of him. In fact, sometimes it seemed like Eddie was a bigger pillar in your family than you were. In the whole town really. He'd sort of become the Robin Hood of Hawkins in his own way, always showing up for people who needed it more -- whether it was legal or not. Down to helping the owner at the corner store after it got robbed and he was beat up.

The cops never found the guy who did it, but Eddie had. The new cross tattoo on his knuckles three days later was an easy tell. A new cross for every body he'd caught.

Eddie turned the car off when he pulled up in front of the house and you tossed him a look, "You coming up?"

"I'm tired," he repeated, "Lemme come lay with you."

"Ed..." you started, but he was already getting out of the car. He was doing it again, building you up, up, up, just to toss you when he was bored. A pattern he loved to sew, the one you could never break -- because when he picked you it felt so good. He finally fucking chose you. You were important for at least a day, a few hours, thirty minutes. But when he was done...that's what you were trying to avoid. The ache. The wondering what you did wrong. The arguments later. You follow him out and he opens your door with the spare keys he has to your apartment. Sometimes a little terrifying to know you might not always be totally alone.

"You coming?" he asks while you answer a text at the bottom of the stairs.

"Yeah, one sec," you whisper, waving him off. You hear him open your front door and kick off his combat boots, the slink of his leather jacket coming off and being tossed on your small kitchen table. He walks heavy through the place like he owns it and you wince, hoping it doesn't wake up your downstairs neighbors.

You meet him up there with a scowl, "There's people sleeping downstairs, you know."

He rolls his eyes at you, walking to your bedroom and pulling off his hoodie, curls in a puffed mess when the fabric slide over them. He takes off his torn up Corroded Coffin shirt (though they haven't played a gig in months) and tosses it on your dresser. His jeans follow and you come in while the denim is pooling by his knees. He ignores you, climbing into your bed in his boxers while you close the blinds in your bedroom to block out the creeping morning sun. Your phone buzzes and it reminds you of the time when a text notification pops up. 6:15 AM. You set an alarm for 1 PM, at least you'd have a little time for yourself before your closing shift. You change into a big t-shirt and slide into bed next to Eddie, putting your phone on your makeshift side table face down.

He can't keep his hands off you, it feels like heaven. Nothing compared to this, not the shoes or the phone bill, not when he'd get your mom a new hair dryer or your brother a new gaming console. Not when he'd get you gifts -- because the gifts always came with a price. You always had to work hard for them. The bruises always had to fade first. They always came with your apology.

But when he touches you like this, soft and deliberate -- it's because he wants to. He wants you. You think it makes him feel safe.

"When're you waking up?" he asks, nuzzling into your neck, pulling your hips over his.

"One," you reply. He nods, a soft 'okay' coming out of his mouth when you feel his teeth and tongue graze your jugular.

"Ed," you huff, "I gotta sleep."

"You sure?" he grins, hand coming up to hold your cheek, "I can put you to bed baby, I promise."

You look at him with rounded eyes, pleading for him to just let you rest but you know you'll give in and so does he.

"I'll be quick," he mumbles, face getting closer to yours. Your noses brush, eyes bursting open and fluttering closed again when you feel his soft full lips press against yours. This is how he always wins. Giving you just enough to skate by, but taking all you have to give him.

His tongue takes no time to push past your lips, kissing you deep and slow while he climbs on top of you. If you didn't know him, you'd swear he was in love by the way he carefully presses your thighs up against your chest, the way his fingers wrap in your hair, the grunt he lets out when he pushes into you. Quiet and confident, he slams into you, covering your mouth as to not wake the neighbors. And it did put you to bed -- you were both completely worn out when he was done, so much so that he didn't move out of your sleepy hold over his chest.

He heard you click off your alarm when you woke up, going back to sleep when you started the shower. Eleven minutes later it went off again and the fuse in his chest was lit. He lifted his head up with half asleep eyes, brows furrowed and angry. Why didn't you know how to turn off a fucking alarm?

"Fucking Christ," he mumbles, flipping your phone over and hitting 'stop' instead of 'snooze', his eyes linger on your home screen for a moment. He puts the phone down and crawls out of bed, the shower in the bathroom coming to a stop. He gets dressed again: jeans, t-shirt, hoodie, socks. He checks his own phone, still hanging out in his pants pocket. Three of the girls he met last night left multiple texts earlier this morning. He couldn't remember their names if he tried. Jess and Shauna sent 'thank yous' for the tips, telling him that two of the new girls want to meet him so they can buy -- followed by multiple snowflake emojis. A missed call from Rick, but no follow up message which meant the call wasn't important.

You pad into the room, hair wet and back in your pajamas, while he scrolls through his notifications.

"I gotta go," he says, not looking at you, "Heading to Rick's for something."

"Okay," you nod, pulling your dress and apron out for the diner -- they liked the old school style there. The owner never really got out of the 60s. He steps out and pulls on his jacket in the kitchen, following him to pass him his watch. He puts it back on without saying thank you.

You reach out to hug him goodbye and he placates you with a one armed squeeze, texting someone back when he does. When you lean in to kiss him goodbye, he leans back -- looking at you quizically.

"Hey, no," he says, shaking his head with a little laugh, "C'mon, you knew what this was."

"Oh," you whisper, heart shattering, the familiar sting of his rejection sweeping over you in icy waves, "Yeah, sorry."

"I'll talk to you later," he says, shimmying out of your hug. You hear him leave, the Camaro revving loud before he pulled onto the street, the hum of his music muffled from behind the windows. You swallow the tears building in your chest and nose. How could you have been so stupid? Of course it didn't mean anything.

Eddie pulls into a McDonald's drive-thru to get lunch, cigarette held loosely between his lips while he lights it. He rubs his eyes in the parking lot, the icy white of the sky was blinding. He leans back in his seat, scrolling through his recent calls to call Gareth.

"You better be fucking awake, man," he mutters to himself.

"'Sup," Gareth's voice flows through the speakers of the Camaro, "You good?"

"Where's your roommate been the last couple weeks? Who's he been hangin' out with?" Eddie asks with edge.

"I don't know, man. His friends? We don't talk," Gare responds, "Why?"

"Find out and get back to me," he says, "Before I gotta find out myself."

"Yeah, that's fine. You sure you're good? You sound pissed."

"I'm not pissed," Eddie says, he was pissed, "Just find out where he's been and who he's talking to."

He hangs up, seeing a message from you -- something along the lines of: sorry for thinking too far into it again, have a good day. He takes a deep breath, igorning your message, and puts his music back on, eating in silence while he watches a show on his phone. He didn't really have to go to Rick's, there was a bigger reason he had to leave your apartment.

He had to find out why the fuck Steve Harrington been texting you since five o'clock this morning.

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Taking Care

Pairing: Shigadabi

Rating: Explicit, RAPE/NON-CON

Summary: Commissioned by an anonymous user. Dabi and Shigaraki didn't start their working relationship off on the best foot, and to be perfectly honest, his view of his new boss isn't exactly favorable. But Shigaraki does seem to be trying to do better by the League, and him, in his own way. It's probably not his fault that he was socialized to be a total creep too. Dabi really shouldn't have given him the benefit of the doubt.

Contents: RAPE/NON-CON, brief descriptions of violence and vomiting, suicidal thoughts/tendencies, non-consensual body modification, natural lubrication, anal sex, anal fingering, multiple orgasms, dacryphilia, creampie, brief feminization, molestation, abusive relationships, possessive behavior, obsessive behavior, yandere!Shigaraki, dead dove: do not eat

Word Count: 10871

He is never gonna say that he 'hit it off' with the boss when they first met. Though, Dabi will say that's in part to the fact he could very clearly tell that Shigaraki wasn't the boss. He was just another over-confident jackass who had a bigger villain actually calling the shots from the shadows, and Dabi can't stand working with people like that. The guy's fucking second was giving him orders and trying to coach him into making smarter choices in his villainy and stepped in and stopped their fight before they could even really get started, and Dabi was left with a bad taste in his mouth and with the constant thought that the boss was a little pathetic. But the League was offering room and board, and a chance to fuck with UA again, even targeting his father's perfect creation, and Dabi had stuck around anyway. 

And for a month, his image of who Shigaraki was did not get any more flattering. He was absolutely a puppet for AFO and a spoiled brat on top of that. He felt entitled to anything he wanted and no one had ever told him 'no' or had shown him how that wasn't how the world actually worked. Well. It's not how the world is supposed to work, but Shigaraki does get whatever he wants as long as he proves to AFO he actually put at least a tiny crumb of effort into why he wants whatever it is that he's asking after. Dabi hates that too, but he keeps his mouth shut. The rest of the League is made of people so clearly desperate for somewhere to belong, and wanting to ensure their youngest members aren't exposed to the truly heinous parts of this world, that they are softening the work for them and trying to grow into a close-knit crew. But Dabi doesn't have the time or any interest in that bullshit. If he's joining a crew backed by AFO it's all going to be in service of ensuring that he burns Endeavor alive. He doesn't bother 'bonding' with the rest of them, he just works to ensure that he gets what he wants out of this arrangement. 

He feels like that might be happening when Shigaraki ends up making him the leader for the summer camp job. He isn't sure why he chose him over Compress, but he doesn't give a shit if it means he gets to be in control of how they hit the camp and who they go after primarily. He can make sure he's the one to see Shoto. The downside of all of this is that he also has to spend long hours planning with Shigaraki. They do most of it after the others have cleared out or gone to bed for the night, assessing their skills during the day, and planning around them at night where they don't have to worry about them confusing brainstorming for their final orders. Dabi doesn't love spending hours with Duster at night, but at least when they aren't being watched by AFO or Kurogiri, Shigaraki forces himself to behave a bit better. He acts more like an adult and less like the teenager he still is. 

It's during one of those late night planning sessions Dabi stretches, cracking his back, and feels his shirt ride up a bit. When he glances back, he can see that Duster is watching him. It's automatic to flip him off as he speaks, "What are you staring at, handjob?" 

"How far do your scars go?" And Shigaraki, among many other things, is incredibly blunt, so Dabi really isn't surprised that he'd asked. 

"None of your business, weirdo." They're sitting at the bar and he's ready to get up and head to bed, the two of them having gotten to a good stopping point for the night, when Shigaraki leans over and cages Dabi against the edge. He automatically tries to twist away, his temperature spiking hotter, as four cool fingers brush his side and start to push up his shirt. "What the fuck--" 

"Hold still or I may slip." Shigaraki's voice is flat and almost bored as he slides Dabi's shirt up his chest and side, red eyes dragging over him, far too intense for the tone he'd used. Dabi goes stock still as his deadly hand moves up his body until his shirt is pressed up beneath his arm, and Shigaraki hums, the other palm moving over his skin. He doesn't know what the other wants from him but he really doesn't want to end up dead because he's careless with his quirk. "You're already so damaged--" Dabi didn't know he could bristle any further, but he feels smoke and sparks behind his tongue as he grits his teeth. "If I don't know how bad it is, then I can't help make sure it doesn't get any worse." He brushes his thumb gently over one of the lines of staples curving over his side, and Dabi's anger, his breath, catches in the back of his throat. 

That's what this is? Concern? Some deeply weird, fucked up version of it from how poorly socialized Shigaraki is, but still. Concern all the same. Duster's hand moves over his chest, flicking his thumb over his nipple with a little snort as he does, sending an uncomfortable twinge across his nerves as the piercing there makes him so sensitive the bud hardens immediately. He only has three fingers against him then, and Dabi feels safe enough to bat away the touch. 

"Hands off, freak. I don't need you to take care of me. I know what I can handle." 

"I'm going to take care of you anyway." Shigaraki tells him without a hint of irony. "So you can tell me what you need, or I can figure it out for myself." He doesn't stop Dabi as he straightens his shirt and slips from the stool, fully intending to go upstairs and get stoned before going to sleep. 

"Whatever." He doesn't want Shigaraki, AFO, or the League to know anything about him. It'll just make it harder to escape them if he decides they aren't his best option in the long run. He heads upstairs and Shigaraki doesn't stop him. 

///

After that, though, he starts to notice little things that change around the base. Only he and the vampire kid are living here for the time being, and he really doubts she's the one who put a fancy antibiotic wound cream in the medicine cabinet of their shared bathroom, sitting right next to his toothbrush. For a second, out of sheer stubbornness, Dabi considers ignoring it. He is perfectly capable of taking care of himself and he doesn't need a brat like Shigaraki thinking that he's reliant on him for anything. But the logical part of his mind knows that he should take whatever help he can get. The whole point of being here is to get strong enough to kill his father. If he wants to do that then having his skin falling off is only going to make it more difficult. 

He starts to use the wound cream and realizes over the course of a week and the wave of exhaustion and relief that comes in its wake, that keeping his body at a low fever was only keeping weak infections at bay. They were still there and fighting to really make him sick for, well, he's guessing it's been a long time. But the medicine actually kills them and starts to let him heal a bit. Which, in turn, makes him fucking exhausted and starving all the time. He's been trying to eat better here now that he has access to non-spoiled food readily all the time, but he has an appetite for the first time since he was a kid. 

And he doesn't mention that, doesn't usually eat around the others, but he starts to notice the fridge and pantry is stocked with more and more every week. Healthy things, for the most part, but tons of protein bars, fruit, and the like, some of which he recognizes as brands that his father and other heroes endorsed because they helped them to put on and maintain a healthy weight and muscle mass. Dabi is thin as a rail, a side-effect from three years in a coma and seven starving on the streets, but maybe... maybe he can put on a little more muscle if he takes advantage of this. So he uses his phone to look up how to recover from long-term malnutrition and how to safely get his body used to a calorie surplus instead of a deficit. 

And about two weeks after Shigaraki felt him up while they were alone, he tells the entire group that they have a doctor-- the one who makes nomu, but is apparently a real doctor during office hours-- who is happy to see them all for check-ups. Dabi wants to be annoyed about that, but Magne perks up immediately and asks when the soonest she can get in is. So maybe, just maybe, this isn't actually Duster taking the opportunity to show him that he absolutely meant what he said before. Maybe he just actually wants to make sure they're in better condition than the first group he took to UA was. 

It doesn't mean he isn't acutely aware of how smug Shigaraki seems when Twice is bitching a few weeks later as he re-takes Dabi's measurements, the old ones no longer sufficient because of how much healthier he's gotten since he took them before. 

///

Hitting the summer camp is exhilarating. Getting to overcome forty students and six pros with a crew of nine outshines whatever the fuck Shigaraki had been trying to do in his original debut. Being able to snatch their main target and getting to stand there and watch his brother, his father's perfect creation, desperate and failing, had put a delight under his skin he wouldn't have words for if he ever were asked to describe it. But he locks that away and acts as unaffected as he always strives for, especially with AFO breathing down their neck as they get back to base. 

They get the kid situated, debrief, prep for the next steps of their plan, and try to get some rest. Even without three of their number returning, it was a resounding success as far as their leader and his teacher are concerned. 

And when that all falls apart, Dabi is out for the majority of the fight. 

He wakes up, his head throbbing, the room spinning, and desperately needing to puke, which he does almost immediately, barely managing to roll onto his side to keep from choking on it, and definitely splashing the side of Duster's sneaks with sick. But he doesn't get decayed for that. Shig just gives him a tissue from his coat pocket and reaches over for a water bottle. He doesn't have any pain medicine, not that Dabi expected that given they're hiding out in what appears to be an abandoned warehouse, but it would have been a nice surprise. He sits up a little, and Shigaraki helps him, one hand staying at the back of his neck, palm cool, and thumb rubbing soothing circles there like that could help take away the ache in his skull. 

Dabi swishes the first sip around in his mouth and spits further away from them to clear the taste before actually drinking some of the water and wiping up his mouth. "Sorry," because he might not like the guy most of the time, but he doesn't hate him enough to think he deserves to get puked on when he clearly got him out of getting arrested while he was knocked out. "What happened?" 

Duster reaches over and sticks a hand into Dabi's coat pocket, which even through his headache, sends a mixture of amusement and annoyance through him, before he draws out his cigs. And yeah, fine, he could definitely use one of those too. He sets a spark on his finger and lights up for them both, and Shigaraki actually takes his mask off so he can smoke before he starts to speak. 

///

Which is how the kind of good thing that the League had going, turns to absolute shit. He doesn't hesitate to stress that them traveling in a big group like this is going to make it damn near impossible for them to actually move without being spotted, and since they're currently going to be on a cross-country tour to try and find someone who will actually give them an ounce of the resources that AFO promised to his supposed successor, splitting up is their best option. If he does this entirely so he can make sure he is as far away from the rest of them as possible as they get a taste of the way that he's been living for the past seven years, then that's his business. But Shigaraki only lets him go under the guise of 'recruiting', like they could get anyone that wasn't complete trash to join up with them now. 

But that's what he's off doing when Shigaraki calls him in the middle of the night. He killed a few potential recruits today, using his flames to burn their heads from their shoulders, and going through their pockets yielded him enough cash to get a motel for the night and a real meal, so he's honestly doing better than he has been for a while, and it's deeply tempted to not answer his phone and just enjoy the rest of his night in limited luxury. But when the first call goes to voicemail, it immediately starts ringing again so he huffs and snags it off the sheets, cig between his lips and taking a deep pull before he answers, 

"What, Shigaraki?"

There's a slight pause and then he hears Shigaraki let out a slow, low breath. "Magne's dead."

And Dabi is suddenly a lot less annoyed with the call. 

Shig explains what happened, Twice not communicating with him or Duster, Overhaul being more than they thought they were getting involved with, Magne and Compress rushing in to defend the group, and Magne being splattered all across the warehouse. It sounds horrifying and all, and the group is apparently using the last of their funds on a back alley medic for Compress so that he doesn't bleed out or die of an infection. 

"What about after?" 

"What do you mean?" 

"Once Compress is stable-- What are you doing after?" There's another pause and Dabi feels his temperature starting to creep a bit higher. "The fucking dregs of the Yakuza just killed and injured members of your crew-- if anyone finds out about that after the shitshow you and your teacher put on in Kamino, then we are all fucked. The League has already lost almost all of our credibility after you used us to build it up again after your first fuckup at UA." 

"Dabi--" And he can hear him scratching at his skin, can hear that venom starting to build in his voice that usually precedes one of his temper tantrums. But Dabi isn't Kurogiri or All For One, and he's not in this game to cater to anyone else's ego ever again. 

"Shut the fuck up." He snaps before the other can get going, and the hiss of his voice actually does stop the other man in his tracks. "You're the leader, no more 'second tries', no more 'do-overs', no more fucking training wheels. You either figure out how to fucking lead this group, do what you fucking said you were going to, and be worth our time-- or you cut us loose, Shigaraki. We aren't just characters in your games that you can move around however you feel like. We're your crew, you have a responsibility to take care of us and when you don't-- Your actions have consequences, and it's about fucking time you grow up and start acting like it." He doesn't even wait to see how that lands. He hangs up, turns off his phone, and goes to take a cold shower before he literally sets himself on fire again from his fury. 

///

He doesn't hear from Shigaraki or the rest of the League for nearly a month. Instead he gives up on the pretense of recruiting for the League, goes back to his old haunts and takes whatever arson jobs he can get. Unsurprisingly, after word has spread about what he did at the summer camp, he has a lot more opportunities for those kinds of jobs than he did before. Dabi doesn't like that this is what he's left doing, but he will do whatever he needs to in order to survive. He just didn't think he would be back in survival mode so soon. He thought that he was finally setting himself up to be the monster he always promised his father he would come back as. But he is making due. As fucking always. 

He probably should have ditched the phone that he was given, but he figures that if Shigaraki is so useless, then it's unlikely that he'll have gotten back any of the resources he needs in order to use it to track him. And he's not in the position to throw out a perfectly good phone when he's still squatting in abandoned buildings for at least three nights a week when he can't find or afford a shady enough motel to stay in. Dabi is in an empty apartment building, glass and worse is scattered across the first floor, and the the windows are all boarded up, but he has a pretty good idea of when a building has been in disrepair for long enough that it's likely to fall on his head, and he figures it's safe enough to go up a few levels. He almost laughs when he finds a door someone locked that whoever went through the place and cleared out, didn't bother to open, and he melts the handle right off and goes inside. The lock and whatever fear of the upper levels other people had, kept this room from being trashed, and he throws his backpack into a corner of the one room that has carpet. It's not much, but he'll be happy to have something soft under him besides his coat. 

He's settling in for the night, a protein bar shoved between his teeth as he uses his hand-crank battery pack so that his phone will be able to charge while he's sleeping, when said device begins to ring. It does that occasionally, but it's usually someone contacting him for a new arson job. This is the first time he's seen Shigaraki's name appear on his caller ID in ages. Dabi sincerely considers not bothering to answer him. It's an impulse, a whim, maybe a little bit of hubris because he's curious to see if Duster is calling to grovel for him to come back because everything's falling apart even worse since he left, but he answers anyway.

"What do you want, Shigaraki?"

"Dabi," And Shig sounds a little breathless for a second, and Dabi is about to hang up because if he is being chased down by heroes or something, Dabi is going to burn his phone and chuck it out of the nearest window. "I've been working on making sure that the League gets reparations for what happened to Magne and Compress. We're on the verge of using the heroes to destroy the Yakuza and obtaining a new weapon that is capable of destroying quirks." He takes a breath and continues, more evenly, "In two days we're going to destroy the last of the Yakuza on a public stage, we can do that without you, but I want you with me."

There's something about the intensity in his voice, something that eclipses anything that he heard from him in Kamino, and the part of his mind that has been looking out and trying to protect him since he ended up on the streets, stirs restlessly in the back of his mind. But the more immediate part of him is curious, if nothing else. "How exactly are you gonna do that, Duster?"

And Shigaraki starts to explain his plan and what the League have been up to in his absence.

///

Two days later he is warring with the exhilaration in his body from putting on such a display, seeing Shigaraki and Compress tear Overhaul's arms off, and the constant, and heavy motion sickness that keeps going through him from Spinner's awful driving. It's really a lot, and he's so glad that when they lose the cops and teleport to the base that Shigaraki and the others have been using-- an empty administration building on the edge of an abandoned warehouse district that has two shower stalls in the boys and girls' bathrooms and that they've scrounged around to find any vague cushioned furniture so they would have something better than the floor to sleep on-- Toga and Twice really do want to go shower and recenter themselves after a month undercover in a high-stress environment before the League celebrates the end of such a long plan that's finally come to fruition. Spinner goes to ditch the car and Compress goes to use his still lightning fast sticky-fingers, and his maskless face to go steal them some libations and food for the celebration. Which means he somehow ends up 'alone' with Shigaraki. 

He hasn't been alone with Shigaraki since he walked into this shitty little hideout yesterday afternoon, and that had been kind of by design. He still doesn't know what to think about the fact that the rest of the League treated him like he's been out trying to recruit and gather resources for the group this whole time, like he didn't just fully abandon them and make his own way when he realized how utterly fucked they would be under Shigaraki's leadership without AFO at least funding them in their downtime to make that worth it. He is fully planning on just going into the corner and taking a nap while Duster plays his game or something, when Shigaraki catches him with four fingers around his wrist. Dabi's temperature creeps up, ready to turn the hand into ash if he tries to close his fingers around his wrist. 

"Let go." 

"You're not going to leave again." He tells him, and Dabi is reminded again that he and the League are the first people Shigaraki has ever had to deal with who could say 'no' to him if they wanted to. He thinks this socially inept loser is actually asking him, maybe pleading, for him to stay after being down a valuable player for over a month. 

Dabi eyes him. Shigaraki isn't wearing his mask at the moment and his eyes are intense as they search his face. He pulls at his hand, and Shig's grip tightens for a second before he lets go. But his fingers follow his skin even as he pulls away, the pads of his fingers brushing down the back of his hand. "Depends on if you can make this arrangement worth my time again." 

"I'll be worth it." He promises. "I'll take care of you." 

The intensity of the words makes something in him wary, but a larger part does feel some measure of smug satisfaction that his words, of all things, were what were able to snap Shigaraki from the pampered delusion of his youth. Good. Still. Dabi scoffs and rolls his eyes, going to claim the cushiest couch for himself. "Yeah? We'll see about that, Duster." He grumbles before getting on the couch and turning away from him. He fully intends to sleep while he can. The rest of the League hasn't figured out that they need to take rest whenever they can get it because at any second they could be on the run, but that's not his responsibility to teach them. 

Duster leaves him be as he curls up, but Dabi swears he feels his eyes on him the entire time it takes for him to actually pass out.

///

He does stick with the League after that. He isn't sure he meant to, but Shigaraki always keeps him close. He never lets on to the others that Dabi is always a split second from abandoning them, and they seem to think he's part of their big happy 'family'. He's only allowed to go out recruiting when the League is getting ready to leave a location, and then he meets up with hopefuls in an assigned location that Shigaraki has picked out, close enough for the League to be nearby, just in case he needs assistance. Dabi can't say he loves being babied, but he understands why Shigaraki and the rest of the League are so worried about him going off on his own. He just hopes they get over it soon as he burns another group of eight hopefuls to death. He uses the last of his flames to light a cig and starts to head down the alley. 

"Well, if that's the rejection process, I might have my work cut out for me." He doesn't recognize the voice immediately, and that means he isn't shy about sending a blast off in that direction so hot that he knows it can cause concrete to crumble. There's a blur of red and yellow and his eyes track it to the opposite end of the building, a blur that he is not happy about seeing is the number two hero lands there. He has his hands up in surrender as he crouches on the edge of the building, a dumb, goofy smile on his lips. "Whoa there, hot stuff! I came for a chat, and you're really gonna blow both our covers if you set fire to half of the street." 

"Back off hero, or I'll turn you into fried chicken." 

"That is my favorite food, but not really what I'm going for." He resituates himself on the edge of the building, sitting on the ledge and kicking his feet like he's got nothing to worry about. Like Dabi doesn't know that birds burn. "I was hoping we could have a chat about how interested the League of Villains would be in having a hero in their ranks." 

And Dabi knows heroes better than any of the League. He knows the awful things they get up to behind closed doors, he knows how corrupt the HPSC is, and he knows that no matter how talented he is, Hawks should have never climbed the charts so quickly after his debut, and definitely didn't do it without someone's help. "You want to join the League?" He wonders if the others are close enough today to hear that. 

"Sure do, hot stuff. I--" he definitely has his whole speech ready to go and whatever, but Dabi cuts him off. 

"Then you can go through our official channels and prove you’re worth my time." He takes a few steps forward, very clearly still heading to leave. "You start proving you want a working relationship by letting me fucking leave." And the bird's wings fluff a little, twitching with his agitation as this very clearly doesn't go the way he was trained to expect it would. Dabi raises a brow at him and ashes his cig. 

"And how do I go through your 'official' channels?" 

"If you're worth the League's time, then you'll figure that out like even those ash smears did, pigeon." He says blandly and starts to walk. 

Thankfully, Hawks lets him go, and Dabi makes sure he's lost his tail before he goes back to the others. 

///

He's not expecting Shigaraki to look half-crazed when he gets back to base, but as soon as he's inside, the other man is catching his wrist and dragging him right off into the nearest mostly private area in the base. Duster has gotten worse and worse about invading his personal space, but he doesn't put up a fight this time as he cages him up against a wall, eyes wide and desperate as they look at him like he doesn't know if Dabi is real. 

"You aren't going out on any more recruitment jobs, you're staying with me." 

"If I don't go out you're gonna have to send Twice, and we all know how well that went last time." He only lets himself be that cruel because he knows that no one else is around. "Besides, having a spy-- even an untrustworthy one-- could help us get access to more--" 

"No." And he has never heard or seen Shigaraki have such vitriol in a word, not even when talking about destroying All Might at the beginning. "He's the fastest hero in Japan. He could have killed you, he could have taken you away, I am not risking losing you, Dabi. We're leaving tonight, and you're going to stay close so that I can keep you safe." 

A part of Dabi really wants to protest that. He wants to snap at Shigaraki and tell him that he doesn't need to be watched like he can't take care of himself, but there's another part that can't help feeling a little... good from how protective Duster has been since he started to get his shit together. He may have swung hard in the opposite direction of treating the League like pawns, but the fact he changed his outlook at all means that he really is listening to them when they talk. He needs to find a happy medium, but Dabi thinks he will the longer that he has to figure things out. "...Fine." It's not like he really thought Hawks was a good idea. 

Duster lets out a breath, slow and even, and hides away the desperate thing he just showed him. Dabi expects that to be it, but Shig reaches for his face. He's pretty sure he's the only one who Shigaraki touches so much, but he tries to ignore that as his cool knuckles brush over the back of his cheek. "Stay with me?" 

"You're such a freak. I'm not going anywhere." He rolls his eyes, batting away his hand before he feels how his temperature started to creep higher. 

But he keeps his word. He doesn't go out recruiting again, he ignores the calls from an unknown number that try to come through, he sticks with the League. Shigaraki always seems to be hovering around him and in his space, orbiting him like he's the center of his whole world and the new version of himself and the organization that he's starting to build. Dabi can't say he hates that. He hasn't been important to anyone for so long, so he stays, and the League grows, and Shigaraki changes. 

///

They take over the MLA, they heal from their injuries, they are able to gather resources and plan their attack. And when they do, it's with Shigaraki fully nomu, with all of AFO's quirks at his disposal. It's a year of planning and everything else, but in one year, they are ready for their war. It only takes Shigaraki one hour to kill Best Jeanist, Hawks, Eraser Head, Mirko, and half a dozen other less well-known heroes. He even harvests the ones that he can, their broken bodies being snatched from the battlefield by the doctor for future nomu. And in the middle of all of that, Shigaraki having teleported around to find his targets and get the heroes more and more on edge and scrambling, their soldiers were moving in, destroying local police and hero agencies, cutting into infrastructure and wiping out power in large sections of the country. But in all the ones that do still have power, when Endeavor is called to the HPSC building because the world is burning all around them, Dabi airs his video, he tells the world his name. 

And he and Endeavor die together just the way he'd always planned. 

///

There is a persistent, and unfamiliar, ache under his skin. The air feels like it's a little too warm, and there is a heavy exhaustion throughout him. Hands move over his skin, firm and bringing with them a soft towel that he realizes is wiping away something from his body that feels oily and is filling his nose with an unfamiliar chemical smell. But he doesn't hurt. All he remembers from the moment just after he watched his blue flames boil Enji's eyes out of his skull until the sockets were spilling cerulean fire, was a sharp satisfaction and an overwhelming pain as they both crumbled away to ash. He opens his eyes, surprised that he still has his, and finds himself looking up at an unfamiliar ceiling. The lights aren't too high, and he tries to figure out what's going on. 

Shigaraki is leaning over him, washing away a thin purple liquid from his naked skin, and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. He was definitely missing limbs by the time he had his father pinned, his skin was gone in so many places. But it wasn't smooth and black like it is now. There are patches of skin, like there were before, that are still his original skin tone, but the rest of it doesn't look like the knotted scar tissue he knows to expect. There are no staples either, just faint lines of pink scars around where the different sections meet.

"You're finally awake, firefly." Duster's voice is breathless as he sees his eyes open, as he shifts to feel how this is his body, he can feel it all, can see himself. 

"What--" 

Shigaraki's hand curls around the back of his neck and Dabi is speechless as he leans down and presses a kiss to his forehead. "It doesn't matter. You're here, and I promise I'm never going to stop taking care of you." He rests their foreheads together, and Dabi is still and silent because he has no idea what he should do as he grapples with the fact he's still alive. 

///

Shigaraki, seeing as Dabi's awake, helps him into a fancy bathroom off of the side of the lavish room, making him sit on a shower stool, but letting him wash away the lingering liquid as he calls in the doctor. Dabi knows what happened to him before he speaks to Ujiko. Looking in the mirror, seeing the sections of his body that have the distinct skin of a nomu, seeing out of eyes he's certain should have been destroyed-- he knows that Shigaraki or someone must have pulled him out of the crater that was supposed to be his and Enji's gravesite, and send him to be fixed. They brought him back from the brink of death. Dabi isn't sure if he's happy about that or not. 

But he cleans himself up and submits himself to testing. He's the same kind of nomu Shigaraki is. His physical strength will be insane, he shouldn't have any worries about rejecting the other tissue that was grafted on him. He will be ageless, healthy, and stable for as long as he lives, and as long as he checks in with the doctor from time to time if he does notice anything strange. And then the doc leaves and it's just him and Shigaraki alone again. There's a strange numbness that has gone through him throughout his waking and he doesn't know where to even start with it. All he manages to do is turn to Duster and ask, 

"What happened?" 

Shigaraki threads their fingers together, no longer needing to worry about his quirk destroying anything he doesn't want it to, and smiles at him, warmer and realer than any he's ever seen on the other man's face before. "We won, firefly." 

///

He finds out over the course of the next two weeks that the League, Shigaraki, didn't just win, he devastated Japan, and every foreign military that tried to come into the country to stop him. He ensured that all of his people would have exactly what they needed and over the course of the twenty-two months that Dabi was in the tank and being treated by the doctor, Shigaraki has started rebuilding Japan with himself as its king. He is actually the king now, and the only heroes left in the country are the ones who are being systematically hunted down by his people. He took the world for himself and shattered it into pieces, but he's creating something new now. The others are all off doing their own work to those ends, and none of them know about Dabi surviving what was supposed to be his final fight. 

"I knew I would bring you back," Duster tells him. They're sitting out on the porch that wraps around Shigaraki's house. It's not a palace, though it's essentially treated as such by the rest of the world, it's just a nice house sitting on top of a mountain. On top of Sekoto Peak. Because Shigaraki wanted something here for him after finding out who he was. They don't have to stay here if he doesn't want to, they can go anywhere, he can have whatever he wants. But Dabi just feels numb. He wasn't supposed to live to see the end of the war, the rebuilding efforts, and it feels like every ounce of drive that was in him from before has been stolen away. He keeps wondering if he could burn himself again faster than this new body could regenerate. He wonders even if he did, if Shigaraki would just spend another two years fixing him. "But I didn't know how long it would take. I wanted them to go out and build their own lives now that they can without fear." 

Shigaraki is holding his hand. He holds his hand a lot. Runs his knuckles over the back of his cheek, catches him around the back of his neck and presses kisses to his forehead. Dabi keeps meaning to rebuff whatever weird familiarity Shigaraki is displaying, but he feels like all the things he notices about his surroundings are being filtered in through a fog, and he forgets about saying something because he doesn't even think to until hours after the touch happened.

"I can call them back, when you're ready to see them." 

Dabi doesn't know if he's ever going to be ready for that. He hasn't even asked what happened to the rest of his family after he killed Endeavor, and Shigaraki hasn't offered the information either. If he can't manage that, he doesn't know how he's going to even pretend to not be numb when the others see him. 

///

He's been awake for a month in this haze, so thick that he actually did ask Shigaraki to bring the doctor back again because he was kind of worried that his brain was going the way that the gray and black nomus do. But Ujiko had just looked at him with barely constrained pity and informed him he was showing symptoms of depression. Dabi had let out a bark of laughter at that, and it was the first time he'd laughed since he woke up. It felt like glass shards in his throat, and did not convince anyone that he was alright. He tries to get given work to do, something, anything to try and make this awful numbness go away. But working on how to run a country is no more or less exciting than running the PLF, especially since Shigaraki is still keeping him secret. 

He tries to train, and when Duster sees him going outside, he catches both of his hands and pulls him to a stop. 

"What?" He asks, barely registering it as he pulls him in closer, and brings his knuckles up to his lips. He needs to tell Shigaraki to stop doing that. 

"You can't train, firefly." 

"Why not?" 

"After how badly you hurt yourself, do you really think I would let you have your quirk?" Shigaraki says, pressing his cheek to his knuckles. "No, precious. You can have it back when you're all better and I know I can trust you again." 

And the first flicker of something cuts through his numbness. A sharp, hot indignation that-- that doesn't make his temperature creep higher from his quirk. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" He snaps, yanking his hands away from the other. "You don't get to choose if I deserve my quirk or not--" that anger, that spark, takes away the numbness that he has been drowning in for so long now. "You don't get to decide if I live or die! You shouldn't have brought me back! I wanted to die! I meant to die! You took everything from me!" His face doesn't hurt when the tears start to slip down his cheeks and he wipes at his cheek with horror, seeing translucent, healthy tears on the back of his hand. Duster took away every inch of him, replaced the things that were broken but were his, with something that so clearly–

Shigaraki catches his wrist again, squeezing hard enough that Dabi gasps as he feels his bones grind against each other as he does it. Red eyes burn into his as he yanks Dabi closer, his other hand clasping around the opposite bicep in the same bruising grip. "I took care of you. I took care of the League. I made certain that you would be safe. You're mine," he tells him, and there is a madness in his eyes as he says it. Something that puts a sharp spike of fear in him and-- and reminds him of how his father used to look at his mother before Shoto was born. 

Dabi only lets out a thin whimper, a sound he's never heard himself make before as he's held helpless in Shigaraki's grip. It doesn't matter if they're the same breed of nomu, Shigaraki has All For One, he's holding him. He could kill Dabi right now if he wanted. And then he could bring him back and do it again. 

The mania in his eyes dulls a bit. He pushes it away, and they go to that unbearable softness again. Duster sighs quietly and loosens his grip before shifting a hand to his chin. "I know that you're not feeling well, precious." He says, pressing a kiss to his cheek, breaking a stream of his tears. "I'm sorry for yelling. Why don't you come with me to the kitchen and I'll make you some tea?" 

Dabi tests his limits, and is allowed to pull out of his grip. He doesn't have words as he shakes his head slightly and flees back to his room, but at least Shigaraki doesn't stop him from going.

///

It takes him hours after dark for him to be able to curl up in his bed and try to go to sleep. He kept ignoring Shigaraki's weird behaviors before because he just thought the guy was poorly socialized, but now he realizes that he's the only one he touched like that. That he never did it in front of any of the others either. He doesn't know what the others would think about this, but he wants out now. He just doesn't know how he's going to get it. Shigaraki owns Japan. He's in charge of everything, which means that unless he is willing to learn how to get by on his physical strength alone, lose his quirk forever, and be willing to kill the League and whoever else Duster sends after him, there is nowhere in all of Japan where he can go. 

He isn't asleep, not when those thoughts are rolling around in his head, but he is dazed and bleary when all of the sudden his bed dips. Dabi jolts, turning, trying to lash out with his quirk, and not finding it again as Shigaraki gets into bed with him. He catches his arm as he swings it towards him and barely blinks before he leans over him, his other hand against the mattress and caging him in. "It's just me, precious." 

A sharp fear he's never felt before starts in his gut and Dabi tries to pull his hand away, but he's held in place so that he can't sit up, "Shigaraki, get out of my room." His voice sounds thinner with that fear. He needs to break whatever delusional claim the other man thinks he has over him before this gets any more out of hand. "I don't want you in here." 

"I know you're upset, sweetheart," Dabi is far more than that when Shigaraki calls him that as he shifts closer. He tries to squirm out from under him, but the other man is so much stronger than him, and he keeps him exactly where he wants him on the bed as he forces a leg up between one of Dabi's own and pins him to the bed with his weight. Terror sears across his nerves and he tries to fight harder, tries to tap into the strength that this body is supposed to have, but he doesn't make the other flinch in the slightest as he does. "But I don't want you to go to bed angry." With him pinned from the waist down, Shigaraki reaches for his chin and holds him still. "I know this isn't what you planned, I know that taking away your quirk doesn't seem fair, but, precious, can you blame me?" 

He sounds like this is all perfectly reasonable, like Dabi is the one who is being insane. 

"When you had it before, you were going to kill yourself, baby. You were going to leave me. After you promised you weren't going anywhere." He leans closer and Dabi's breath catches in the back of his throat. "You said you would stay, firefly." There is a sharper ache in the look that he gives him now. "I need you with me, precious." He doesn't wait for Dabi to try to find his words, he just holds him still as his lips seal over his. 

Dabi keeps his lips pressed tight, he tries to turn away, but the grip on his chin holds him still as Duster kisses his mouth. He kisses him like this is something he's been waiting to do for so long, and a horrible sickness goes through him as he wonders if he did wait to do this, or if the reason he had been so unfazed by cleaning him up and helping him shower, was because he's already had his fill of his body while he was sleeping. Shigaraki doesn't care how unresponsive he is, he shifts his fingers up his jaw so he can press hard at the hinge of it, until Dabi knows his bones will break, or he'll have to open his mouth. The sharp pain is enough to have his eyes watering again, and his mouth opens with a sob. 

Shigaraki doesn't care. He licks into his mouth, holding his jaw open so that Dabi can't even try to bite him, as he licks deep inside. Duster takes like cold rain, and Dabi feels like that flavor is somehow sinking through his skin and all the way down to his bones. He wishes he were still feeling so numb as he lets go of Dabi's wrist to shift closer instead. Dabi tries to push against him, tries to pull on his hair or scratch his nails through his shirt, he tries to get away. He tries. Shigaraki doesn't even seem to notice. 

He pulls away, resting their foreheads together. "I've been waiting for you for so long, precious. I was so scared that I wouldn't get to make this new world for you."

Dabi shakes his head, weakly, tears dripping off his cheeks. "Shigaraki, let go of me, please." 

"Never again, firefly." He promises, kissing at the tracks of them again. "The whole world is mine now, and I've been waiting so long to share it with you." He strokes his thumb over his cheek and kisses the edge of his lips. "My queen." 

"I'm not yours--" Dabi yelps as pain lances through his cheek. It's not the same as burning, not the same as a bruise or broken bone. It feels different and wrong. And the pain comes with a soft crack as his skin shatters under the effects of Decay. He tries to thrash away, and Shigaraki holds him to the bed, but doesn't make his head crumble into nothing as he lets out a strangled cry. 

"Shit, I'm so sorry, precious. I'm sorry, baby, I'm so sorry." Shigaraki grabs him again, not in the same places as before, catching him in a hug and pulling him in, onto their sides so that he can hold him close, tucking Dabi's head against his chest as he strokes his hair and Dabi sobs, his own hand going to his shattered skin as he shakes. It takes about half an hour for the new healing to knit his skin back together, and he can't stop crying the whole time. He cries for his quirk, he cries for the body that hasn't been his own since the moment he was conceived, he cries for the end he was denied so someone else could use him for their twisted delusion. He cries and cries, and Shigaraki holds him and strokes his hair. He kisses the top of his head, and he tells him softly, again and again, "It's alright, precious. Nothing is ever going to hurt you again. I'm going to keep you safe, baby boy. It's all going to get better, firefly. I love you so much." 

It takes a long time for him to find words again, and when he does he only manages to say the other's name. "S-Shigaraki--" because he is terrified if he tries to protest again, if he tries to tell him this isn't love, this is something sick and twisted, that he'll be hurt again. 

Duster doesn't make him find words, he just tries to pull him into whatever soft hazy place he believes that he's living in, by kissing him again. He kisses him over and over, only parting enough for him to suck in a breath and let it back out on a fresh sob as his hands start to move over his body. He hadn't really dressed for bed, he'd just taken off his t-shirt and lounge pants and climbed in, and Shigaraki takes advantage of every inch of his naked skin. His hands move over his back, stroking around his sides and up to his chest to tease at his nipples. His piercings were all removed when he was in the tank, but his nerves, all of the new nerves all over his body that aren't broken and constantly screaming his pain, they somehow feel even more sensitive than before. 

Dabi's stomach floods with sickness as he realizes what he's angling for to put this 'argument' to bed, to prove how much he 'loves' him. "Shigaraki--" 

"Use my first name, precious. I want to hear it. I've been waiting so long to hear your pretty voice again, sweetheart." He breathes against Dabi's lips desperately as he kisses him again as he pushes him back onto his back, this time forcing Dabi's thighs wide around his hips. He can't help it when his breath hitches again as he feels Shigaraki's cock pressing against his as he's forced to this angle. He hates himself for the way that a jolt of pleasure goes through him there even as this only makes his fear sharper. 

"Tomura, please, I don't--" He pinches a little more roughly at Dabi's nipples and he whimpers but shuts up. Shigaraki wants to play this game. He wants to pretend, and he's going to make Dabi pretend too if he doesn't want this violation to be as physically painful as it already is in other ways as Shigaraki licks and nips along his jawline. 

"You don't have to be nervous, precious." He breathes against his skin. "I'm going to take such good care of you in our bed too." 

He doesn't bother to protest again. He knows it's not going to save him as his mouth settles against his throat, licking and biting like he wants to leave marks that he can't now because his skin is black there. Shigaraki starts to rock his hips into his, slow rolling movements that Dabi wants to twist away from, especially when they... start to feel good. He bites on his lip hard, trying to keep the only sounds coming out of him his soft sobs, as his cock begins to stir. But Shigaraki feels him, of course he does, and he smiles sweetly at him before his mouth moves down his chest to replace one of his hands. His other slips lower, catching the back of his thigh, pushing his boxers higher so that he can have his hand against his skin and drawing soothing circles there as he grinds against him. Dabi is pretty sure the petrichor taste of him is sinking past his skin and going all the way into his bones, settling there into a heavy, inescapable chill as his body, untouched for so long, starts to warm to his touches. 

The tears never hurt as they slip over his cheeks like they used to, and they never stop. Shigaraki's touches never hurt, and he never stops either. He pulls back for long enough to pull away his shirt and then he is kissing him again, his hands going down Dabi's hips and forcing them up so that he can pull away his boxers. Dabi tries to twist away instinctively, his body unable to suppress the urge when he doesn't want that. Shigaraki bites his lip so hard that he starts to bleed and he makes himself be still under him again. His erection doesn't even have the decency to flag as that fresher fear and pain go through him. His skin is so desperate for a touch. Even before he was supposed to have died, even before the League, it had been at least a year since anyone was willing to go to bed with him, and no matter how much his mind recoils, his body longs for pleasure. Shigaraki licks away the blood from his lip and murmurs, 

"You look so beautiful blushing like that for me, precious." His hands move over his body and he leans back to really look at him. "I wish I could have seen you before, but we were always so busy with work. I promise things will be different now. I'm going to make sure that you never have to lift a finger for anything else ever again." 

"Tomura, we don't have to," do this? Change how things were before? What? It's so sharply clear that this is all Shigaraki has wanted out of him since Overhaul. 

"I want to, precious. I want to make you feel good. I want to make every part of you mine. I want to make love to you, Dabi." He wishes so badly that he had burned hot enough to have only been ashes in the wind, and for the first time in his life, he doesn't know if he means when he was twelve or when he killed his father. 

Shigaraki kisses him again, his hands moving down his body, one wrapping around his cock and stroking him slowly from root to tip and Dabi hates himself for how loudly he moans. It feels so sickeningly good that his toes curl against the sheets and his cock starts to drool so much so quickly. He bites into his lip this time and tries not to squirm and have that pleasure turn to agony as Duster's eyes stay so pleased and adoring on him as he strokes his cock a few more times before he, thankfully, lets go of him. 

Then his hand moves over his balls and behind him. No, no, no-- His fingers, only wet with his pre, circle his hole, and Dabi grabs onto his shoulders, his nails biting into his skin. He's not even bothering to try to push him away, he's just bracing himself for the pain of being opened, or being raped by the thick cock he can see outlined in Shigaraki's pants, without proper preparation. But when Duster starts to rub around his hole, Dabi feels a surreal, unfamiliar ache in his pelvis before he feels-- he yelps as something warm and wet starts to slick his hole and Shigaraki's fingers as he rubs them over him. 

"Wh--" 

"That's it, precious. Getting so wet for me," and his voice is thicker with his lust. "I knew my baby girl would be so needy after having to wait so long to have me." 

He understands then, as Shigaraki circles him one more time before he pushes his finger deep inside, sliding along his wet walls without the discomfort he was expecting, that he didn't just have the doctor fix him. He had him made perfect for his delusions. He had his 'queen' made so that he could fuck him whenever he wanted. Dabi squeezes his eyes shut as a fresh wave of tears spill down his cheeks as he realizes that he probably tailor made his body to react to his touches. Made it impossible for him not to... like it as he's violated. 

Shigaraki rubs his finger along him, until Dabi is panting and keening softly as his cock leaks heavily against his stomach, and his hole is all but gushing slick as he puts in another. He sinks them inside and scissors them just enough to get him used to a stretch, strokes just long enough to ensure that his prostate is sensitive and making him moan with each little brush against it, before he kisses Dabi again and pulls his fingers out. 

"Tomura, please," and he wants to think that he's begging for him to stop. He knows he doesn't want this. But his body is lost in the heady, unwanted pleasure that is being forced across his nerves. He wants to die. He wants to be fucked. 

Shigaraki won't let him do the first, not when he thinks he owns him. But he takes the second for himself. He strips away the last of his clothing and Dabi shifts, twisting his torso so that he can hide his face against the pillows so he at least doesn't have to look at the other man as he wraps his hand around his thigh and holds him open and at the angle he wants, as his other hand steadies his cock so he can press inside. Dabi hates himself for how good it feels, how much wetter he gets, how loudly he moans, as Shigaraki feeds his massive cock into his body. He's breathless and soaking the pillow with his tears as the other man bottoms out.

"Fuck, precious, you're so tight." He leans in and kisses his cheek as he starts to rock his hips into him in slow, gentle, rolling thrusts that make certain every one of Dabi's nerves is stimulated and suffusing his body with pleasure. He laughs softly and Dabi wishes he could burn him alive. "First time you've had something inside since I brought you back, huh, precious? Guess that really makes you mine." He teases like they're lovers. As far as he's concerned, they are. 

And Dabi's body agrees as he starts to shift, angling his thrusts deeper, dragging their skin against each other slowly, kissing and touching wherever he can reach. He forces his pleasure to go higher and higher, and no matter how good it all feels, Dabi knows that it's wrong because his quirk isn't racing to meet him. His body gets warmer, but only the way a normal person’s would. Only reminding him with each sobbed moan and whimper as Shigaraki wraps his hand around his cock and begins to stroke, that his body isn't his. It never has been. It belonged to his father's ambitions first, then it belonged to his revenge, now it's Shigaraki's and he's never going to be able to escape. 

It's not an escape, but it is a relief when his pleasure goes so high that he can't fight it back any longer. His mind goes blissfully blank as he arches and cums, his insides tightening around Shigaraki, and pulsing just as much as his cock as he spills his release. His whole body feels consumed by the pleasure and he cries and cries as Duster keeps moving inside of him. He pushes him past the oversensitivity, telling him the entire time how beautiful he is, how much he missed him, how much he loves him, how he's never going to let him go again. He talks, and touches, and rapes him, and Dabi's body doesn't have the decency to be disgusted. He gets hard again, and this time, Shigaraki only lets him cum when he finally does, lacing their fingers together and kissing him sweetly as he fucks him full of his cum, until Dabi's mind gives him another few seconds of reprieve as his orgasm drowns him again. 

///

Shigaraki barely lets him be alone after that. He is with him in his bed-- their bed-- when he sleeps and wakes. He is with him when he eats, when he goes anywhere in the house, and if he has work to do, he brings Dabi to his office and he does his work, while holding one of Dabi's hands so that he can't go far. Dabi has to ask to even go to the bathroom when he needs to, and if he's not back in a timely enough fashion, Shigaraki comes looking for him. Now that he's shown his hand, proved to Dabi he is insane beyond anything he could have guessed, he doesn't bother to hide his obsession anymore. He keeps Dabi close, he pulls him into his lap for kisses and wandering touches that could turn deadly, or at the very least, painful, at his slightest whim. He slips his hand into his pants whenever he feels like it, either stroking him off or fingering him until he's dripping and trembling through his orgasm. He kisses away his tears and tells him how beautiful he is, how much he loves him, as he does, and Dabi lets him.��

He's not numb anymore. 

No, Shigaraki keeps him close, he dotes on him and adores him, and Dabi moves past the anguish. He moves past the regrets and wishes that he had just died when he had the chance. Wishing for those things won't save him now any more than it did when he was a child. He learns what Shigaraki wants from him, and when he wakes up in the morning a week after the first night that Duster forced his way into his bed, Dabi rolls into his chest and nuzzles his face up under his chin, pressing a kiss there, just beneath his jaw. 

"Morning, Tomu." He mumbles. 

Shigaraki's hands against him twitch, tightening just the slightest bit. "Morning, precious. Did you sleep better last night?" No secret now that they're sharing a bed that he has nightmares. Of the fire, of his father, and of Shigaraki too now. Dabi doubts he'll ever stop having any of those, but he shrugs. 

"Do you have a meeting this morning?" He asks instead. 

"Why, baby?" 

He kisses up his jaw until he reaches his ear. "Wanna see if I can take your cock without having to prep. You made me perfect for you, didn't you, Tomura?" 

"You were always perfect, firefly." Shig breathes, catching his chin and looking into his eyes. Dabi doesn't know if he'll ever learn to fake whatever he's going to need to in order to make Shigaraki believe his words are real. But he has time. He'll never get older, never be hurt again so long as he plays along. He can pretend. He wonders if Shigaraki can see those thoughts in his eyes as he looks at him, his gaze calculating. Dabi will play along. He'll do it until his mind shatters and he really does fall in love with this monster, or until Shigaraki sinks so far into his delusion that he never sees it coming when he burns him alive. 

Dabi knows how to bide his time to destroy someone. When he does it this time, he's going to make sure that no one is around to ruin the finality of that action. "I love you." He says on a breath, and Shigaraki smiles at him sweetly even though his eyes are still sharp. 

"I love you too, precious." They're both lying when they say it, but Dabi at least understands that his own words aren't just a lie, they're a promise. He will either love Shigaraki, or he'll kill him. Time will tell. 

[ciaoteamo]

please more period shit with Miguel oh my god but him as dom

pairings: Miguel x reader

summary: Miguel gets his revenge on you for last month

warnings: 18+ content, hard dom

Honestly, every month your cycle came around, you’d just imagine your life without it. It had its pro’s and con’s. The majority being the latter.

This time it was just as bad as the month before. You were feeling dizzy, your legs ached, and of course the cramps were far from subtle.

You groaned in the bed, thankfully, Miguel was on his way. You were watching the red dot that marked his location and he was getting closer by the second.

Thankfully for you, he’d noticed that it was coming beforehand and started coming home earlier.

You tried to make yourself some dinner but ultimately gave up. It wasn’t worth standing in the freezing kitchen vs. your comfortable bed.

A portal with red and yellow accents appeared in front of you. Miguel came through it with a bag with what looked like a box inside.

You smile at him and he grinned. “i’ll be right back” He pat your leg before leaving the room. You heard your microwave open downstairs and shortly after, the fridge.

Then footsteps were climbing your steps and entering your room. You see Miguel come back with a few things gathered, clearly trying to keep them from your view.

“alright, i know what you need, so of course i’ll help you first” He tucks everything at the foot of the bed, leaving you curious.

He walks to your nightstand and opens the secret drawer, pulling out a few of your toys.

“which one is easiest to clean?” He asks, examining the devices. You point to the simple black cylinder shaped like a lipstick.

He puts the rest of the toys to the foot of the bed and climb atop. “look, after you cum, i’m probably gonna turn and be very merciless” He starts in a serious tone.

“tell me now if you don’t want to go the extra mile” He pulls back your covers and gently lifts your legs before speeding them.

“i’m fine with it” You answer, breath hitching once he pulls off your bottoms.

“okay” He turns on the vibrator and kisses the back of your knee, he was slow with his movements, and gentle with his touch.

You watched his every move. He looked hungrily at your leaking vagina, rubbing the tip of the vibrator around the area. He finally placed it on your clit and your body flinched at the sudden intense speed.

You put a hand over your mouth and closed your eyes. He moved the toy in tights circles, causing you to shake every second.

You suddenly sit up, holding his hand in place to get you to your high while moaning shamelessly. Your orgasm washed over you, making you instinctively look up at Miguel with an open mouth and knitted eyebrows.

He hummed and kissed your legs again as you came down from your high, he still had the same hungry look on his face.

You relax your legs and catch your breath. “feeling better? let me know when you’re ready to move forward” He puts the vibrator down and gently rubs your legs.

“i’m ready” You say, feeling the aftermath of your orgasm fade away.

He looks up for a brief second through his eyebrows, as if to protest. He sits up straight and puts his hands on either side of your head.

“what’s your word?” He starts to kiss your neck.

“oh wow” You say. He must be serious. “we can just use the colors, no?”

“i’m fine with that” He whispers into your neck before giving it a harsh bite. You hide and grab onto his hair.

“i hope you didn’t-“ You start.

“don’t worry” Miguel cuts you off, giving your neck a nice long lick. “they weren’t protracted… yet” He half heartedly reassured you.

He trailed kisses up your jaw and stopped to give your ear a nibble. You kept your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling of him exploring you.

You hear a sharp like noise and see his claws protracted. He used his pointer finger to slice through your (his) t-shirt and the band of your bra with ease.

His hands roamed your chest with care. You gasp when he suddenly rolls your nipples between his teeth. You put your hands on the back of head and tugged on his hair.

You were at the boarder line of pain when he finally let go, leaving them and swollen and hard.

He then gave you a quick peck on the lips before sitting up straight with his hard on leveled with your entrance.

He picked up the things ont he floor from earlier with his webs and sat the bag and a bowl by you.

He pulled out a long silk blindfold and sat it on your leg. You were curious to see what else would come out but he stopped there.

“do you mind this?” He asks. You shook your head no and he gently wrapped the smooth fabric around your eyes.

Everything went back but you could feel him still close to you.

“i don’t think we’ve done this before, blindfolding, that is.” He starts, his voice making your ear tingle.

“no” Your voice came out as a whisper to your surprise.

“you disable one sense, and the others are heightened” He was now ghost his lips over your neck.

Suddenly you feel the cool air again and hear rustling. You swallow thickly as you wait for the next step. He quickly flips you over making you curse at him for the sudden movement.

“damnit Miguel!” You got silence as a reply from him and felt your wrists and ankles being covered. What this… web?

Your arms were suddenly pulled up and so were your legs. Were you hanging from the ceiling right now?

“am high up on the air right now? am i still over the bed at least?” You question, doing your best to not move from the panic.

“relax amor” You felt him kiss your cheek. “all that matters is that you’re safe” He reassured.

You only sigh and you stiffly stay in place. You feel something cold touch your stomach and jolt. It felt like ice.

There was another piece placed on you that made you jolt again, nothing moving in opposite directions. One was moving toward your chest, and was on your nipple in no time, the new feeling making you squirm in the air.

It felt good, cooling off your abused nipples. The other was on the hood of your vagina, slowly moving to your clit until it was quickly pushed into you. Your back arched and you tugged at the webs.

Miguel’s fingers were deep in you, pushing the ice as far as it would go while your hums were turning into moans.

“don’t let that fall out” He says, focusing back on the ice on your nipples, moving is around so that it wouldn’t get too cold in one spot.

You could feel the ice melting and slipping down. You start to clench your hole the best your could.

“what a sight… your hole and the ice are making a beautiful lube” He cooed while squeezing your thigh. He gave both cheeks a harsh slap, making you focus on the ice for a moment.

“fuck!” You wince and catch the ice. You could feel the cold liquids seeping into your crack, making your butthole clench as well.

“you enjoying this?” He asks,still stroking your legs. He puts in another cube before you can answer and you feel the previous water leak from you.

You groan and try to close your legs to no avail. His hands came crashing against your ass again.

“FUCK- you-“

“answer me” He kisses your inner thigh while you shook. “are you enjoying this?”

“yes…” You almost whine.

“good girl” Good girl? Since when did he say that? You didn’t hate it coming from him though..

The bag rattled once again and this time you heard a cap open and close.

“i’m gonna be nice and tell you that this is to warm you up for later” You feel him lick the never ending fall coming from your vagina and spread the juices over both holes.

You could imagine what he looked like. Tongue shiny and coated in your blood and ecstasy. His eyes were probably as red as your blood by now, hungry for you.

You feel something cold rubbing at your butt hole before slowly being pressed in. “try to relax” He says as he eases a toy into you.

"shit-" You curse, feeling yourself stretch.

This was going to be a long night for the both of you.

(A/N): I'm trying to push out as many posts as possible since I was behind amores, lmk if you would like the rest of this one anon! &lt;3

[narcissarina]

Darkened Desires

Prologue and Chapter 1: The sun || Chapter 2: The moon || Chapter 3: The moon || Chapter 4: The sun || Chapter 5: The sun || Chapter 6: The moon || Chapter 7: The moon || Chapter 8: The sun || Chapter 9: The sun || Chapter 10: The outsider

Pairings: Mafia!Scaramouche × Barista!Reader

Word count: 2,306

Tw: praise kink, degradation, kidnapping, tourture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, gore, deaths, age-gap, corruption, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, mentions of human trafficking on the near chapters, slowburn.

Warning: This fanfiction may contain kidnapping, torture, dub/non-con, forced breeding, dismembering, age-gap, corruption, vigilante Scaramouche, use of force, trauma, use of drugs, stalking, and more. This fiction will continue grow darker as chapters goes by.

Your mental health matters.

CHAPTER 11:

THE MOON

I sigh and lay my head low, I left her alone in her own home—I shouldn’t worry too much since I know she’ll be safe and can protect her own. But I can’t help but feel my gut that tells me the opposite of it.

I’m not ready to talk about it, I’m not ready to share my criminal life and leave her uncomfortable.

She’ll ask me questions and probably press me why I didn’t become an agent like my mother is.

I lean back to my chair and tap on my armrest, papers been stacking up—got a few calls, few emails here and there.

Letting out a frustrate sigh, I look up my ceiling—there’s been a gut feeling that’s bee stabbing me to check up on her, see her, feel her.

I fight the urge and stood up from my chair, fixing my tie and brushing off dust from my vest.

I took out my phone and look through my messages, Ajax texted me: “Are you still gonna refuse what we had planned?”

Rolling my eyes and a scoff left my lips as I tuck my phone in.

Although I am worried, I know she is safe since I did sent out a few guards to check in on her. I assure myself and walk walked out of my office to stretch my limbs and stiffen body.

I let my head hang up in the air and silence filled my surroundings, muting any sounds as my eyes shut and take a deep breath. I hear faint footsteps… getting louder and louder and closer.

I took out my gun and point to my right, halting someone as I assume they would come knocking me out or attack me while I let my guard down, turning my head to see who they are. They’re one of my men, I groan and put back my gun.

He was frozen in fear and shock, I snapped, “what the hell do you want?”

“Sir…” his breath hitches, his voice quivering.

The moment I hear those words, the moment I felt my heart drop through the ground.

“She’s gone.”

Immediately bursting through her house door, I was met with eerie silence. My brows knitted together as I search the living room, I called out her name… No response.

“Sunshine?” I say out in a panic, my chest rising up and down as I head upstairs to her bedroom—I open the door and saw her messy bed, she was taken when asleep.

My head started hurting and my breathing starts to pick up, too much is happening all at once.

I called to one of my men while heading downstairs in a panic, I gripped on his collar and bring his face closer to mine.

“you had one fucking job.” I say in gritted teeth, he was still and his fist clenched, “how did this happen?” I asked and pushed him down, safely landing on her couch—god fucking damn it!

I clench over my hair and brush it back, letting out a frustrating sigh as I kick down a fucking chair.

Too much is happening and it’s happening all at fucking once.

“Where were you when she got taken?” I asked, trying to keep my cool and flatten my tone, he open his mouth to respond but his partner answered for him, “he was taking a fat shit.”

I closed my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose, “couldn’t you shit faster?” I sat down on the nearest and clasp my hand together, I lean forward and rest my elbows onto my knees.

“if you don’t find a piece of clue of her whereabouts within twenty-four hours, I’m going to have each of your fingers taken off.” I spoke, loud and clear—he nods and had a death grip of his own knee. If his nail could pierce to that piece of fabric and skin, he would be bleeding by now.

I lean back, groaning in pain and defeat.

Out of anyone, why would they target her? She hasn’t done anything wrong, she’s just a simple I clench over my hair and brush it back, letting out a frustrating sigh as I kick down a fucking chair.

Although she likes to poke her nose and ears where it doesn’t belong.

I need to find her fast, or all will be too late.

I sat in my car seat, my hands gripping on the steering wheel as I hit it repeatedly to let out my stress, I already made my men go back first without me since they’re doing shit at their job. I need a time alone before I couldn’t contain myself and kill them all.

Ping—

The sound of my phone notification grabbed my attention for a second as I look to the messages with a picture attached.

It was Ajax.

I read the message carefully and felt my heart stop for a few good minute.

I put my hand on the wheel and took off, speeding up to get to my destination, I’ll be breaking Ajax’s neck if his explanation did not satisfy me.

I arrived in front of his house as I slam my cars door shut and bolt inside his home, “where the fuck is she?!” I yelled and took his collar, making him meet me eye to eye. I would love to cut that grin off of his face as he only held his hands mid air and chuckle, “chill, she’s safe.” He said and grip one of his hand to my wrist, “if it weren’t for me, she would’ve been taken by… You know.”

“The hell you talking about?”

“It’s better if you go see her first then we’ll talk.” Ajax snap his finger to one of his men and got behind me, signaling me to follow them—my grip on Ajax collar loosen as I slowly turn my back and followed them.

My mind swirls with questions and how would I approach her and what her condition is, I never knew fear exist in me when one of my men says that she’s gone…

We arrived downstairs as his guard open the door, isn’t this Ajax torture room or something? Why did he kept her in here? Is he sick in the head, what the fuck…

Impatiently waiting and tapping my shoe, they opened it and I burst into the room and look around the dimly lit room, I see a couple of blankets and pillows on the ground and a tray with a plate that was once filled with food.

There she was, sleeping uncomfortably on the freezing ground as she toss from her left to right and the blanket wrap her like a burrito. I rush to her and held her in my arms, she was snoring and mumbling in her sleep, I held her tight and my hand on her cheek.

“Sunshine.” I mutter, my lips connected to her temple as I softly rock her in my arms. She’s also hugging a pillow and curl up into a ball, “wake up, darling.” I called, she whines and turn her back on me while still being in my arms. I chuckle at her tactics and carried her bridal style as I walk out of the room with her sleeping soundly in my arms.

I lay her down in one of Ajax’s luxurious couch and sat down beside her—sleeping soundly as if she doesn’t sense the danger in this world and that in her dreams, she’s safe and happy.

I adjust her position and let her head use my thigh as her pillow, she grunt and whines a little but proceed to smack both of her lips and turn her back as her forehead made contact where my healing wound is. I smile down at her and remove some of her hair from her face.

Ajax is right across me, legs cross and drinking his tea.

“I won’t cut to the chase.” I hear him clear his throat, his tone serious but his smile not disappearing. I look up at him and remain eye contact, “I called you for a reason, Scara.” He added then continue, “actually, when me and the boys did our job, you know? The usual—breaking in, shooting, murdering the wanted people. You know?” He chuckle to himself and lean back to relax his muscles.

“But there’s something that caught my eye when I broke in to my targets office,” his hands clasp together, “there was a file that stands out the most and most familiar,” he then snap a finger as his men gave him the file that he was talking about, “it's about your previous Sunshine, Scara.” He handed me the file by tossing it to the table between us, the file slides close as I manage to grab a hold to it.

I scan and read each word carefully while still listening to what Ajax’s saying, “she was being targeted, I don’t know who nor what do they want but they just wanted her.” My brows frown, muttering under my breath every sentences I read.

Name: Y/N L/N

Age: 24

It was one of her personal backgrounds, the same one I also have but different… It has the approved stamp on it and the date when they’ll be taking her, my eyes widen and filled with so much rage that I could fucking kill every single person in this room…

But I remain calm, as waiting my darling up would be every upsetting.

He could just watch me stress this out, “I know you have a lot in your plate right now, but I feel like you should know and that why I took her in the first place.” He explained, “she’s a lovely girl, but we can’t have her be taken away now. Not when she’s your sun ray and that the Tsaritsa just want to question her.”

My eyes shot up to him, “she wants to question her..?” Ajax nodded and smiles more widely now, “I mean, just a harmless question, she’s going to be fine!”

My eyes darkened, annoyance visible on my face, “now, now… Let me explain.” Ajax laughs, as I feel her again turning and letting out a sigh of relief as she knew she’s in a warm and comfortable spot to sleep on.

“You know… She low-key looks like the Tsaritsa’s diseased child, but more older and mature now.” His tone became soft and calm, “you know, since her lover got killed in an intense battle in war.”

“Isn’t her lover in the military?”

“yes and the Tsaritsa is part of the most powerful and resourceful mafia family…”

“Why and how did she fell in love with a soldier?”

Ajax thought for a moment and let out a deep breath, “she ran away to be with him, then his deployment came when she’s pregnant. Before she knew it, he’ll never return. And he doesn’t know that she’s the most wanted mafia’s daughter.”

I nodded, look down at her sleeping soundly and caress her cheek.

“how did her kid die?”

“When the Tsaritsa’s little princess was running around the house, greeting every servant and giving them smiles. She’s a lovely girl, like her—” he points to my sleeping sunshine, “—like her, the Tsaritsa calls her child her sunshine. Her ray of light when she was out of hope, but she continue pursuing life because that day, she has a child.”

I smiled, I know it’ painful to lose a kid. But I knew, because I lost not one but three kids because I failed to save them from their abuser and predator…

“But when hope was building, it collapsed when her ray of light got into a flight accident—along with the Tsaritsa’s trusted servants to guide her sunshine back home. Back where the kid belongs, not only did the kid lost its life, but also four or six people died there too. Most of them survived, but not the kid and the servant.”

I listen, as I feel this pain in my heart. I continue caressing her face as I look up and see Ajax wiping off tears from his eyes, he laughs and dismiss this matter. “N-No, sorry. Quite unprofessional…” I could hear him sniffle and smile again, “it’s just awful to lose someone that young and that they’re your only reason why you’re keeping it together.”

He inhales and tries to stop tears from falling off, he took a fan and starts flapping it in the maximum speed he can. “It’s just that, when the Tsaritsa caught a glimpse of her file. She immediately knew that she found another reason to keep it together and finally had someone worthy of her protection.” He smiled while battling with his tears, even though in those dead eyes of his—there’s still a hint of emotion in there somewhere, just finding it’s way to wave and finally come around eventually.

“So, I’m only doing this for her request, not a demand—but a request.” He clarify twice, assuming that I would hear it right. “it’s okay to refuse since the Tsaritsa only asked if she had a chance to meet her, and maybe talk to her too.”

I’m free to refuse, but how could I refuse when I finally knew what the Tsaritsa’s intentions are? There’s a side of me that’s really soft and this is one of them.

“I promise you, comrade.” Ajax lean forward, his elbow resting on his knee and hands clasp together, “that the Tsaritsa will provide her everything, will do anything to protect her. Even though she’s not her daughter—she found yet again a sole reason to keep it together.”

I sigh, pinching the nose of my bridge and look down at sunshine. Ismiled and try to lean and kiss her forehead, “alright.”

“Arrange an appointment for us to meet Her Majesty.”

Link:

Chapter 12: THE SUN

[neowinestainedress]

DEEP WATERS

TITLE: DEEP WATERS | part of the INFERNO event

PAIRING: tentacle monster!haechan x fem!human!oc/reader

GENRE: smut, monsterfucking

SUMMARY: all your life you heard stories about the monster that lives in the lake, but they never scared you. You were looking for him, hoping fate was going to lead you to him to prove yourself you’re not crazy for believing in his existence. And when it happens, he seems to be afraid of you.

WARNINGS: smut, tentacles sex, aphrodisiacs (but to make the whole thing possible and not painful so everything is consensual), public /outdoor sex, nipple sucking, nipple orgasm, shibari with tentacles (i guess), oral sex (f/m), anal sex, vaginal sex, spitroasting, triple penetration, belly bulge, multiple orgasms/overstimulation, brief mentions of free use, breeding (but not really), cum inflation (and a lot of cum in general), unrealistic sex (do i really have to write this??), aftercare (don't ask)

WORD COUNT: 8.004k

A/N: don't really know how to feel about this one and I hate writing things in a rush, but it's here. Let me know your opinion with comments, reblogs or asks!! Enjoy ♡

if you click 'read more' you agree you have read the warnings and take responsibility for the media you consume.

“I truly don’t think we should be here,” Jaemin whispered, looking around in the thick forest that was getting wider with each step as they approached the lake. 

“Yeah, that’s one of your countless dumb ideas,” Renjun added, trying to stop his body from shaking so much at the slightest of sounds. 

“You’re so annoying,” she commented, walking around with too much enthusiasm if you asked her friends that were behind her, almost using her body as a shield from whatever was going to jump from the waters. 

“Why can’t we just go back to our tents and stay there?” Jaemin complained. 

“Because it’s boring, yall keep telling the same stories over and over again and most of the others are asleep.” 

“You know he doesn’t exist, right?” Renjun said, finally addressing the elephant in the room. 

She sighed, “Then why are you shitting your pants?” 

Renjun let out an offended gasp before knitting his brows, “I’m not. I just think it’s not wise to wander around in the middle of the night here, there could be wild animals.” 

She laughed after rolling her eyes and then stopped when the lake came in their view. 

“God, it’s so pretty. I can’t believe people barely come here.” 

Jaemin coughed, “Yeah, there’s a reason.” 

She glared at him. “So why do you call me crazy?” 

“Nobody calls you crazy, it’s just… it’s creepy, okay? The vibes of this place are creepy, can’t we go back?” Renjun insisted. 

“What are you doing?” He asked when she bent to the ground to search for something, taking a step out of the bush. “Please, don’t do anything dumb, don’t do — you did something dumb,” he sighed when she threw a rock in the lake, circles forming on the surface as the rock slid on the surface before sinking. 

“Okay, I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Jaemin said. 

“It is,” she did it again, and again. 

“Why do you want to anger it?” 

“I don’t, I just can’t believe that nothing makes him come out.” 

“Mh, I don’t think your rock was that big,” Jaemin said, taking a step back when the water started moving. 

“What have you done?” Renjun asked terrified, seeing something coming out of the surface.  

“Got what I wanted?” She replied, shrugging, and he could hear the happy smile on her face.

“You’re insane,” he replied, shaking his head. “Let’s run,” he screamed, grabbing Jaemin’s hand and turning back, not even looking back to see if she was following them.

“Yeah, I’ll reach you,” she replied, but instead of following her friends, she moved closer to the water and her breath stopped for a moment as she could see a figure emerge from the surface. 

Finally, after years, it was happening. 

The monster moved his tentacles and slithered some in front of her, but she barely flinched. 

“You’re not scared?” The monster in front of her raised a brow in utter confusion, he was standing still now, waiting for a reaction that wasn’t coming. 

“No,” she replied and he could feel the same serenity in the way she was acting in her voice. 

“You think I’m not scary?” 

She shook her head, biting her lips, and studying the blue appendices swinging around his body, water still dripping down, damping his hair and his scaly blue skin. “You’re interesting… curious, but not scary.” 

The monster laughed, a sharp mocking laugh. “I won’t spare you just because you’re pretending to don’t be afraid.” 

“You don’t kill,” she replied calmly. “I’ve been reading so much about you. Read all those tales about you. You terrorize people, certain tellers believing that it’s because you don’t enjoy people invading your personal space. It’s like Shrek.” 

He frowned, truly shocked at how calm she was, or even casual, as if she was chatting with a friend and not a monster that lived in the depths of a lake after terrorizing the people of her village. “Shrek? Who’s that?” 

“Oh, you wouldn’t know. But that’s not the point.” 

“Don’t touch,” he groaned, pulling away one of his tentacles when her hand lifted up and moved closer to the limb. “You can’t touch me.” 

“Will I burn? Is it like holy water on demons?” 

He rolled his eyes and then started moving in circles around her. She truly wasn’t afraid a bit. How was that possible? But she didn’t seem armed, and also looked rather short and fragile compared to him, and her clothes, a white sweater, and grey pants weren’t made for a fight, so what were her tricks? Was she able to mind control or something? 

“Why are you here? Don’t you know it’s dangerous being all alone in the middle of the night at the sides of the haunted lake?” 

She puffed, eyes squinting as she studied the creases of his body, he was mostly naked, just a drape covering his lower body while his skin was covered in scales that disappeared on his hands, feet, neck and face. 

“I wasn’t alone. My friends are weak and ran off when they saw you emerging from the surface.” 

He stopped moving around her, panicking for a second, “They saw me?” 

“They didn’t. But just the idea of the tales being true terrified them. Can I say you let me down?” 

“I let you what?” His voice came out higher than he wanted to but he couldn’t deny he was dumbfounded by her behaviour. 

“I wasn’t going to be afraid of you but… damn, I thought you were going to be scarier. Bigger. Ugly,” she commented, still studying him, and admiring how beautiful he was, sure, some things could’ve — should’ve — been considered weird but he had a handsome face, and his colours, deep blue mixing with purple and bright pink were simply beautiful. 

He blinked repeatedly, thinking it had to be a weird dream, a hallucination given by all these years of being alone and far from his home planet, but she was still standing there, closer than before, once again trying to touch him. 

“I could kill you.” 

“Would you?” She raised a brow, testing him with a smug smirk on her face. 

He gasped, shaking his head. “Why would I not? If you’re so smart and curious as you say you are, you should know what happens to people that know about my existence. They can’t survive. They can’t put my life at risk. I’ve been hunted all my life, and this is my first safe place and I have to hide in the water.” 

“You think I can run back to town and talk about you? They would call me crazy.” 

“They might, but they will also come here and hunt me.” 

“Why don’t you try to talk —” 

“You’re so naïve, really think that they would listen to me? Think they would listen to what a monster has to say? I can turn scary if I want to, I’m sparing you.” 

Instead of baking away her eyes lit up, her mouth opening in surprise and excitement. “So you can control it?” 

“Of course, I can. My original form wasn’t even in the water. I had to adapt.” 

“So, you’re an alien? The books don’t say it. It says that you’ve always been here and you’ve been scaring the town since the dawn of time.” 

“Leave,” he only replied, voice sharp and deeper. 

Her eyes moved to his. “I don’t want to hurt you.” 

He snorted. “You couldn’t even if you tried.” 

“Well, physically I can’t but emotionally.” 

“No, little girl, not even emotionally. And now leave. I’m keeping you alive as a favour.” 

“But why? I’m just curious…” 

He moved closer, touching her chin with a hand, making her gulp and shiver at the sensation of his skin rubbing against hers. “You think I’d be so dumb to be vulnerable in front of you? To tell you more about me so you can run to your village and tell them you found out how to finally get rid of me?” 

She shook her head. “But that’s not what I’m curious about.”

“And what are you curious about, then?” He asked, raising a brow and when she looked away, he furrowed.

“I have some abilities but unfortunately I can’t read minds, speak.” 

She gulped, coughing to clear her throat. “About your tentacles.” 

“My tentacles?” He tilted his head to the side, watching how her attitude shifted as soon as his body surrounded hers. 

“Yeah… if I touch them, can you feel something?” 

“Of course, I can, they are protuberances of me.”

“No, but like… pleasure.” 

He stood there frozen for a second, shocked once again by her boldness. That was what she was thinking about? But he shrugged it off and a teasing laugh rumbled out of his chest. 

“That’s what you want to know?” He teased, caressing her cheek. She nodded. “Want to know if I do this,” another tentacle came out of his body, “and put it between your legs,” she whimpered when the wet tentacle teased her over the pants, “if I feel something?” 

She nodded, breath getting shorter as the limb moved on her thigh, wrapping around her waist and lifting her up on the ground. 

“I don’t know, but now I’m curious too. Do you feel something?” 

She hummed, looking down at him, biting her lips to don’t let the small moans of pleasure come out. 

“You know I could let you go right now and make you crash to the ground, right?” 

“I know.”

“And aren’t you afraid?” 

“You won’t do it.” 

“Are you sure? I have all the reasons to do it. You know about me, not much but more than anybody else on this stupid planet ever did, and are also trying to fuck me.” 

“Isn’t that good? For how long have you been alone?” 

“For how long have you been alone?” 

She grunted, throwing her head back in frustration — and a bit of pleasure since the tentacle was still rubbing against her. “God, stop stealing my lines. Come up with something yourself, or answer.” 

She gasped when he let her go, but caught her before she could smash onto the ground. 

“I told you,” she winked. 

“It’s just because you’re entertaining. So dumb, you will get hurt.”

“But any way you didn’t kill me, and your tentacle is still between my legs.” 

The monster groaned, leaving her on the ground and moving away, the tentacle slithering back into his skin. 

“How do you do that?” She asked, watching in awe as his body got back to its original form. 

“How do you breathe?” 

She rolled her eyes. “God, you’re so annoying. Ever thought that maybe your terrible communication skills are the reason why people wanted you dead?” 

“Shut up, and leave.” 

“No.” 

“No?” He raised a brow, glaring at her, looking scary for a second but she had no intention of stepping back. 

“I’m not standing into the waters of the lake, I’m not breaking any rules. On the other hand, you decided to come out of the waters knowing full well that I was there. So maybe, you need something too.” 

“I need peace, and I’d need to get away from here. I surely don’t need you.” 

“But you’re all alone, how doesn’t that get boring? What if it wasn’t me? What if there was a hunter that wanted to kill you? You risked so much tonight.” 

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance,” he sighed, rubbing his temples.  

“You have the chance. You just don’t want to.” 

“Oh, damn, just… what do you want?” 

“You.” 

“Me? Like my head on a silver plate?”

“I’ve been passionate about you since I was a kid, all my fellow classmates were terrified hearing the stories about you, but I was so fascinated. I couldn’t wrap my head around it, and then… then growing up it just got worst.” 

“So you’re obsessed?” 

“No, I’m more like a fan. Do you know what that is?” 

He shook his head. 

“Well, it’s someone that’s very fond and passionate about somebody else.” 

“Obsessed.” 

“No. Listen,” she sighed. “I… I’ve been called a freak all my life for believing in you, and I think that it’s so dumb that I’m the weird one when nobody ever comes to this lake at night. So I guess people believe in you but are too ashamed to admit it. While I never cared about it, like, even if you weren’t real, was I hurting somebody? No. So can you please just answer my doubts? I promise you won’t see me again.” 

“Do you really have doubts to answer?” He asked after sighing loudly. “Or do you have needs you think nobody else can satisfy?” 

She didn’t reply immediately, ashamed he had caught the main reason why she wanted to find him. Because if at the start the curiosity was almost scientific, with the years it turned into a fantasy she truly couldn’t tell to anybody. “What if I had both?” 

He chuckled. “And what do you want to solve first?” 

“My needs?” She asked shyly, tilting her head to the side. 

“I doubt you’ll have the strength to answer your question if you follow that path. I doubt you will make it out alive at all.” 

“It can’t be that bad…” 

“It’s not made for you,” he replied, hovering over her. “Nothing about me is made for you.” 

“We could try.” Her voice was low as she looked up at him, eyes falling on his lips. 

“Don’t play with fire if you don’t want to get burned.” 

“Maybe I could get just a little taste? Let me, let me touch one of your tentacles, please?” 

He chuckled, lifting one closer to her hand, watching as she grazed it gently. “Why are you so attracted to them?” 

“I… I don’t know. There’s something fascinating about this,” she confessed, letting her fingers run on it, it was smooth and wet, maybe even sticky. She had noticed that they all had different textures, some had veins, others suckers, and some others were like the one she was touching. She could feel his breath falter for a moment. “Do you feel something?” 

“Not really, those are not made for pleasure. Honestly, nothing in my species is made for pleasure.” 

“No pleasure?” Her hands stopped, her attention back on his face. 

He smiled. “Reproduction.” 

She gasped, biting her lips. 

“It was easy to change your mind.” 

“I didn’t change it.” 

“Okay, you are hiding something from me, what are you?” 

“I’m human. I’m me.” 

“How… How are you not afraid? I can emit corrosive acids, I could strangle you, I could drag you in the pits of that lake and drown you and your family would never find a body to mourn on. And here you are?” 

“Because humans are scarier than monsters and I’ve been surrounded by them since I was born? You think that people don’t commit atrocities just because they don’t have tentacles, fangs, or wings, or claws, or powers, and toxic fluids?” 

He couldn’t deny he did find humans disgusting and terrible but it was different. “But that doesn’t make me any less scary.” 

“Hate to break it to you but you are… hot.” 

“Hot?” 

“If you were ugly probably I would find you scarier, but those tentacles, your skin, your tongue and your eyes are not scary.” 

He hummed, trying to hide how happy he was to hear those words. “Are you sure you want to play? I can’t promise you will make it out alive, but I got that you have no intention to leave anyway, so instead of wasting the night with useless talks…” 

She hummed, it couldn’t have been a bad idea. She wanted this so badly. 

“I promise I’ll try to be gentle at the start. And don’t come inside you, I’m not really sure the kid that will come out of us will be a good mix.” 

She chuckled and that made him roll his eyes. “Do you hate your life or something? Why are you not afraid of me in the slightest?” 

“Why do you want me to be afraid so bad?” She asked, running a hand on his skin, it was still wet, but the scales had a good sensation at the touch, they resembled snakeskin. 

“Sometimes fear saves your ass,” the monster replied, touching her chin with two fingers, and caressing her skin. “I could be poisonous, I could strangle you…” 

“Or drag me in the deep waters, yeah, I know. You could also take control of my mind. I’ve been studying you and your powers for years, that’s why I wanted to know what is true and what’s not. But if you propose something funnier, I guess education can wait.” 

He groaned when she touched his face and pulled away. She raised a brow. “You are afraid,” she pointed out, walking toward him as he started taking small steps back, finally realizing why he was acting like this.  

“I’m not afraid, I don’t want you to touch me like this.” 

“But why?” 

He hesitated, his feet reaching the shore, the human skin on his feet being replaced by blue scales. “I don’t trust you.” 

“Would it make it better if you knew my name? You still didn’t tell me yours, you must have one.” 

“Hideous monster, terrific creature, I don’t know, pick one your people decided to give me,” he retorted bitterly. 

“Those are not names. Please,” she begged. 

And her sincere eyes were the only things that made him say his real name for the first time ever. “Haechan.” 

“Haechan?” 

“Yeah, do you have anything to say about it?” He asked annoyed, already regretting the confession.

She shook her head, walking closer to him, they were standing face to face. “I love it, it fits you.” 

He scoffed. “Are you really that desperate?” 

“I’m being honest.” 

“We can’t,” he replied when her chest pressed against his.  

“I thought you said you couldn’t promise me to be gentle, but not that we couldn’t.” 

“What if people see? What if they think I’m hurting you and… it’s too dangerous. And the only way I know to do this is even more dangerous.” 

She smirked, looking past him, the dark water painted silver by the moon shining behind him.

“Don’t even think about it.” 

“Why not?” 

“You’re insane.” 

“I’d say I like a challenge.” 

“A challenge that could kill you, and then kill me once they find your dead body on the shore.” 

“Then don’t risk it and let’s say above waters,” she replied, touching him once again. “Did they move?” She asked when the scales on his arms bricked up.

“No, they didn’t,” he replied sternly, pulling his arm away. 

“They did! Are you turned on? Do you like it when I touch you?” 

“You know nothing about how I work, just shut up,” he said, wrapping a hand over her mouth. “Stop screaming, you will draw attention.” When Haechan looked down she was staring at him, the light reflecting in her eyes, making it look as if a million little stars were inside, and he pulled away when he felt his skin brick up. 

She smirked when she noticed, but didn’t tease him verbally. 

“You know nobody dares to come here at night,” she said, “as much as they love to call me crazy for believing in you, they shit themselves thinking they could encounter you.” 

“If something bad happens to me, but doesn’t get me killed, I’ll make sure I’ll come to haunt you wherever you are.” 

“Sounds good, so we will see each other again,” she smiled, touching his tentacles again, making him groan. 

“No touching,” he hissed. 

“How are we going to do it if I don’t touch you?” 

“You can only touch if I start it, or if they come closer to you. They are… sensible.” He gulped, looking at her. “Not like you mean it, not the ones that are out now. Damn, you’re so annoying with your little cocky gazes, that’s why you’re single and you have to beg a monster to fuck you.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” she said, rolling her eyes before she kissed him. She was tired of this beating around the bush, she wanted things to start. She gasped in the kiss when his tentacles wrapped around her frame and lifted her up from the ground. “Oh, finally started loosening up?” 

“I told you to —” Haechan tried to retort but she shushed him again with another kiss. 

“You’re so annoying,” he huffed when she pulled away. “And kisses are weird.” 

“Weird? What about touches? Your tentacles are all over me, can I touch them?” 

“Doesn’t it feel disgusting? They’re sticky.” 

“It’s weird, but I like it.” 

He quirked a brow, moving them more, exploring her curves. “Do you?” 

She hummed when one of them brushed between her legs and the other on her breast. It was weird, but not disgusting. 

And when he heard her moan, the put up façade he was showing crumbled apart, it was like her soft moans were telling him the truth, he could feel her body, he felt the pulses in her vein, he felt that she was being honest, that for some — weird — reason she truly wanted this, but mostly, she wanted him. No, he couldn’t read minds, but he, unfortunately, could feel so much, and all his life on that stupid planet he only felt hatred, disgust and anger, but this… this was different, this was good. 

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tentacles retracting from her body, leaving her surprised for a second, blinking at him with confused eyes. 

“Yes,” she still replied with no hesitation. 

“How much?” 

She hesitated for a second, not getting where this was going. Was there somebody behind her and he wanted to make her say something to don’t get them both killed or were his doubts haunting him again? 

“Enough to try this with you.” 

“Then can you let me try a thing with you?” 

“Define a thing.” 

“This,” he said, tentacles moving again, two of them reaching for her hands and blocking them over her head, the hold tight enough to make her stay still. “And this.” The other two roamed on her body, sending shivers all over it. 

Her head fell back and her lips parted to let out moans. “Yes, do —do whatever you want.” 

His eyes sparkled at the consent, and two more tentacles came out of him, securing around her ankles and lifting her up, it was as if she was laying but underneath her there was just air, and the cold, hard ground if he only let go of the grip. 

Her body stiffed when he grabbed her clothes and ripped them off her body with strength. 

“Don’t look surprised by my strength, you wanted this.” 

She hummed, nodding and biting her lips nervously, the cold air making her shiver. 

“I will warm you up,” he joked, “need more tentacles to keep you warm?” 

She nodded, moaning when two others reached her breast, squeezing her boobs strongly. 

“Fuck.” 

Haechan smirked, content with her reaction. “You look pretty down here,” his breath huffed against her wet pussy, and she tried to close her legs, but the tentacles were keeping her spread open. “Well, never seen a human one but yours is beautiful.” 

“That’s a weird comment,” she groaned, feeling so exposed because it was as if he was studying her, but well, could she be mad when she was just as curious of him? 

“Is it? Humans don’t compliment each other?” 

“Well, fuck, not exactly like this.” 

“Oh, well, I don’t want to be like you anyway so take it.” 

She was about to say something again but his tongue laying flat on her cunt stopped the words in the back of her brain, head falling backwards, dangling in the air, and nails digging into her own palms. 

“Fuck,” she groaned when he started moving it, long tongue teasing her entrance before his lips started sucking her sensitive clit. 

“Never imagined you’d taste so good,” Haechan groaned against her, hands cupping her thighs, as his tentacles moved to bend them and leave him more space between her legs. The new position, with her knees bent and slightly closer to her chest, made her feel his fast movement even more. 

Haechan pulled away, staring in awe at her dripping juices mixing with his spit and dripping down her ass. “Let’s see,” he whispered, lips curling in a smirk, “if I do this, will you like it?” Two smaller tentacles came from his back and reached for her pussy lips, pulling them apart. His tongue rolled out again and this time slipped in again, fucking in and out. 

She groaned when her eyes met his, staring at her with a lustful gaze, his tentacles now moving faster around him, and holding her tighter. She tried to close her legs again, sure that he must’ve had something in him that made everything feel ten times better because she had never been so sensitive. 

“I’m gonna come,” she cried out, squirming in his hold while she reached the first climax. Her skin was already pearled with sweat, and at this point she feared she was going to get sick because of the low temperature of the night, but her health wasn’t exactly her main concern right now. 

“Oh, you love this,” he smiled. “Didn’t think you would be so sensitive.” 

“Hae-Haechan,” she called breathlessly. 

“Yes, honey?” 

“The — the tentacles, can they, can you stop them?” 

He raised a brow, “Thought you wanted this?” 

“I do — I do, want this so badly but,” the breath got stuck in her throat as the tentacles on her nipples started sucking harder. “Too much. Too good.” 

“If it’s good it’s never bad, isn’t it?” He joked, placing a tentacle on her clit, and rubbing the head in circular motions. “But I don’t know how I want to fuck you yet, let me think.” 

“I’ll come again,” she cried out, voice breaking into a scream. 

“I warned you.” 

She groaned, letting her head fall back, giving in to the pleasure, it wasn’t bad, and that was the problem, the shocks of pleasure running in her body were so strong she feared he was going to tire her up before she could get a bigger taste. 

“Oh, I think I got it,” he exclaimed. “You’ve got a really nice ass, I want to have a better view of it.” 

She screamed when he swiftly turned her around, tentacles moving so fast her heart dropped when they let go of her to trap her in another position. But the fear of the precarity of it all made all her blood rush between her legs, pussy throbbing hard in anticipation. 

“So, so pretty like this,” he whispered, she was now facing him with her back, ass perched up, arms tied up, standing straight above her head, calves flat against the back of her thighs as two tentacles secured her legs in that bent position, almost as if she was kneeling standing mid-air. “Silver looks good on you,” he added, caressing her skin, and watching the moonlight reflect on her. “Are you cold?” He asked when his fingers grazed her back, running along her spine and felt goosebumps. 

“A — a bit.” 

“I’ll warm you up soon.” 

“Fuck,” she moaned, head tangling in front of her when he parted her ass cheeks, jumping back against him when he left a kiss on her rim. “I don’t —”  

“Shh,” he shushed her up. “This hole looks inviting.” 

“You can’t fuck me there raw.” 

“Why not?” He asked, and when she looked back he seemed genuinely confused, it would’ve been cute if only she couldn’t feel a tentacle already prod at the entrance. “Aren’t all holes made for that? To get fucked and filled?” 

“Kinda,” she replied, voice faltering as she tried to ignore the effect those words had between her legs. “Wait,” she stopped him when the appendance pushed in. “You need to — you need to get it wet and ready, it’s not like my pussy.” 

He raised a brow, not really getting the point of it, and she wasn’t going to explain to him the real point of it now. 

“Just — eat me out like you did before and push the smallest tentacle in,” she explained, hoping she wasn’t going to regret it considering the most daring thing she had done with her ass was put a shy finger inside of her. 

And he obeyed, tongue licking a stripe before he started to move with eagerness just like before. But he was eager, he had barely got a taste of anything and he couldn’t wait longer, so he slipped a tentacle inside, moaning when her warmth clenched around it.

She couldn’t reply, mouth gaping as she tried to realize what had just happened. “Feels weird,” she choked on her words as she tried to adjust to the sensation, smooth on one side while on the other she could feel suckers rub against her walls, ignoring the slight discomfort because he didn’t prep her at all. 

“Want my cock instead?” 

“No, I just — fuck — need to get used to it,” she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut. 

“Good, ‘cause you feel so good.” Haechan was getting high at the way she was moaning, pretty sounds and squeals. And in a second he moved closer to her, moving her so her pussy was right at his dick height. She yelped, not expecting him to move her around like that, so easily, as if she was nothing. 

“Are you going to take my cock?” 

She blinked, turning her neck, trying to get a glimpse of it, eyes widening when she saw it, bigger than anything she had ever taken, a dark blue at the base that turned lighter at the tip, full of ridges along the length, curving up perfectly, big heavy balls hanging tight under it. 

She whined, suddenly realizing she might’ve bargained more than she could take. “Sure, I’ll take it.” 

But Haechan laughed. “No, you won’t. You’re too fragile, little lamb. I told you this was going to be too much for you.” 

She didn’t answer, choking up on yet another moan as the tentacles in her ass started moving faster and deeper. 

“You’re so lucky I can and want to help you.”  

“You can make it smaller?” 

He let out a mocking sound, “Bigger, if I wanted to,” he smirked. “But I don’t feel like I want to destroy you… not yet.” Her smile dropped and he chuckled. “I’m kidding, I’m just joking. I wouldn’t want to break what could be my favourite plaything.” 

“Plaything,” she huffed. “You wanted me gone. Changed your mind? It does suck to be here alone?” 

She screamed when a tentacle latched at her clit, sucking hard, it almost felt like it was vibrating, no… it couldn’t be. 

“I need you to shut up,” he said, another tentacle coming out of him to reach her mouth and fill it with no grace. When he could only hear muffled moans, he smiled. “Better, sounds get irritating easily when you’ve spent so much time in silence.” 

She whimpered when she felt something wet against her opening, it was sticky and wet, but she couldn’t turn around and see, not that she could’ve anyway, but her head was being kept still by the tentacle fucking into her mouth. 

Her eyes closed when the tip of his fat cock started rubbing against her cunt, smearing the substance around. “Need you to be relaxed or no amount of aphrodisiacs will make this possible. I don’t like when my toys break.” 

She breathed deeply through her nose, cringing at the mess of spit that was drooling out of her mouth, and tried to relax her body. 

“That’s it,” he grunted, easing his tip inside her, ass bucking up at the intrusion. “Fuck, you’re so warm here,” he groaned when he slipped all the way in, fat, ridged cock stretching her wide, but it wasn’t as painful as she imagined it would be. Still, she could feel him so deep inside of her that she wondered how he wasn’t splitting her or hurting her. Large enough to fill her like nothing ever before, the scales rubbing against her walls, the new texture making shivers run down her spine and curl her toes already, stomach closing in a knot as the feeling emptied her brain.  

The sounds filling the chill, calm night of October around the lake were disgusting. Lewd squelching sounds, cum splashing between their bodies, tentacles dripping so much of it already that the brown earth was starting to turn white. 

And as much as Haechan told her to keep quiet, the one that was having a hard time holding the moans in was him. He never felt anything as good as that, all her holes feeling so good, bringing him closer to the edge before he’d love to. Not that he was scared of that, he could come over and over again, last for days if he wanted to, but her? Small body shaking into his tentacles hold, squirming and at the same time fucking back asking for more, small holes barely taking him, stretching out so widely just for him. 

“Should’ve fucked a human first, fuck,” he moaned. “Feels so good.” Probably the sight of her holes opening just for him was what he last needed to reach his orgasm. He didn’t warn her, though, coming inside all of her holes, filling her to the brim, sticky white cum overflowing, bringing her to the edge too. 

She coughed, spitting it out of her mouth, too much to even think of swallowing it. 

“Too much,” she cried out, feeling her muscles sore as she squirmed uncontrollably as she reached another orgasm. 

“You think I’m done with you? I want to see your pretty face while I make you come, see your pretty belly bulge,” Haechan snorted, still lazily pumping inside of her.  

She groaned. “Fuck me against the ground, I — I’m too tired, these positions are,” she blabbered, still spitting some cum out of her mouth, struggling to let out what she was thinking about.  

“Against the dirty ground? I don’t think so,” he said before he turned her around, this time holding her against his body, tentacles wrapping around her to shield her from the cold of the night, eyes staring right into her watery ones. “But I think we can try something else. You said you’d let me do anything, didn’t you?” 

She nodded, suddenly fearing what he could do to her. 

“Is it better?” He asked and she looked around in panic when felt herself floating, tentacles holding her up but she could feel they weren’t the main reason why she was laying in the air. 

“Yeah,” she whimpered, feeling her skin burn as the tentacles brushed against it.  

“Good,” he smirked, staring at her leaking holes in awe. “You’re so pretty, are all humans like this?” 

She nodded, half-lidded eyes looking into his. 

“As pretty as you?” 

“I — I don’t know.” 

“I don’t think so,” he replied, cock slipping into her cunt again, stretching her again. 

Her head fell back, but it was like something was keeping her up, almost as if he had put an invisible surface she could lay on. 

“You feel so good, fuck, should’ve come here sooner,” Haechan groaned, slipping another tentacle inside her ass, this time thicker than the one that had fucked her before. “Would’ve filled many lonely nights.” 

And she would’ve loved to reply that she did try, searched for him everywhere but he was too good at hiding, her brain though didn’t let her mumble a single word, nothing else that wasn’t a moan or a whimper. 

It took him nothing to make her come for the third time with an orgasm that simply didn’t feel real. It sent pleasure flooding through her entire body, making her scream in the night, cunt and ass clenching around him barely giving him space to still pump his thick fleshes in and out of her holes. 

But Haechan had no intention of stopping. If it felt good before, now it felt even better. Her face drunk on his cock and tentacles, mouth open, tongue rolling out and eyes rolled in the back of her head. He also would’ve loved to be gentle and let her lay like that, but he wanted her closer and wanted to have a better view, so once again he moved her body, angling her so that she was almost flat against his chest but not close enough that he couldn’t see the bulge of his cock in her belly. 

“Shit, can you see me through your pretty belly?” Haechan moved a hand behind her back, forcing her neck to look down, eyes snapping open in surprise, awe, and slight terror as she once again wondered how the hell it was possible and how deep he was reaching. 

“You look so pretty with a round belly, baby. Should I fill you more?” 

She nodded eagerly, broken moans slipping past her lips. 

“Yeah? Want all my cum deep inside your nasty holes? Want it to be so much it overflows and drips out of you for days?” 

“Yes, please, fill me, stuff me of your cum.” 

Haechan groaned before he emptied himself inside her again, stilling against her, tentacles stopping their frenetic movements as the pleasure ran all over his body. 

Her head rolled back as yet another orgasm washed over her, and she felt her brain hazed with pleasure. 

“Hae — Haechan,” she called out, voice breathy and tears trickling down her cheeks. 

“What, babe? Can’t take it anymore?” 

She nodded, biting her lips when two suction cups place on her nipples again, sucking avidly. 

“I’m sure you can.” 

“No, I — I — fuck,” she screamed, wriggling in his hold, hips involuntarily fucking into him. 

“I’m sure you can take one more for me, can’t you?” 

“I — I, not too much.” 

He shook his head, slipping out of her, cold air hitting her burning holes as his body moved back for a few seconds, cum dripping in a pool on the ground. 

“Want to fuck your tight ass with my cock and your pretty pussy with my tentacles.” 

She hummed before the words registered in her head. 

“Tentacles?” 

Haechan only smirked, pushing into her rim with force, knocking the breath out of her lungs. Her mouth open and drool dripping on her chin. “Haechan.” 

“Fuck, nobody ever screamed my name like that,” he moaned, head falling forward in the crook of her neck. “Not even in terror, they only call me a monster.” 

She only whimpered in reply, closing her eyes when she felt the first tentacle make its way inside her pussy, it wasn’t incredibly thick, but it filled her enough that she didn’t even want to think about the intrusion of another one. Not a single thought in her brain as pleasure buzzed in her veins, she was sure she wouldn’t have been able to walk back to the tent, not now and probably not even in the morning, but it felt good. 

“You take me so well, little lamb,” he praised, eyes staring right where he was fucking into her with force. “Should I add another one? See how much of me you can truly take?” 

She nodded, “Please.” 

“Please?” He snickered, a thick tentacle raising in the air before it reached her clit, sucking to help her dilated more around him. “Thought it was too much just a few seconds ago.” 

She shook her head, tears spilling down her eyes like a fountain. “Need you, need more.” 

“As you wish,” he chuckled before pushing the other one inside. The stretch was inhuman, enough to make her come on the spot, body freezing at the mercy of the shocks of pleasure that were rushing in her. 

“Fuck, fuck,” she cried out when the feeling dimmed, looking down, watching the two blue, veiny tentacles make their way into her poor abused cunt. She could clearly see them through her tummy, and feel them too. She should’ve found it scarier but she could only think that it was hot and felt so good she feared no other human was going to make her feel like that ever again. 

“So tight, little lamb. Can’t believe you came all the way here to get fucked by me. Used and filled by a monster. Begging to get ruined.” 

“Nggh,” she replied in a broken whimper. “Just for you.” 

He smirked, leaning in, long tongue rolling out to lick a stripe of her tear. “Everything about you tastes so good. Maybe you should stay around,” he hummed. “I should keep you with me to keep me company, always ready to get fucked.” 

She nodded, eyes opening to meet his. 

“Want that? Want to be my little toy to fill and fuck anytime I like? Only used for my pleasure?” 

“Yes, please.” 

Haechan groaned, “You can take all my cum as proof you’re not crazy, there will be so much in and on you that you won’t forget about it. It’ll leak out of you for weeks.” 

“Mhh, please.” 

“Gonna give it all to you, my favourite girl, aren’t you?” She nodded, a dumb smile on her face as the nth orgasm rose again. “You know, fuck, thinking about it, you would look so pretty carrying our babies, don’t you think so?” 

She only mumbled in a reply, too dizzy to truly listen. 

“Yes, you would, all round like you are right now, fuck, look at you.” He had already fucked so much cum into her that her belly was bulging not only from the tentacles but also from that, so round that she looked pregnant already. 

“Fill me, give — give it to me,” she begged, voice coming out like a mess of broken cries and high-pitched moans. 

“If you want that so much, fuck,” he growled, head falling backwards, eyes closed as pleasure overtook him. 

When he came inside of her it lasted longer, and this time more tentacles spilled cum everywhere, completely coating her body with the white, sticky substance. But she had no strength to squirm away or complain because the orgasm washing over her almost knocked her out completely. Vision white and ears buzzing while her back was arched, letting Haechan’s last pumps ride the high until it stopped. 

She didn’t hear or comprehend much of what happened next, she guessed he was still cursing and moaning while her holes still clenched around him, making it impossible to slip out. 

She soon passed out for a while and when her eyes opened, she was confused. She looked down and saw that she was clean but her hair was wet, still, she wasn’t cold, the warm light of the fire heating her up. When she looked up she saw that Haechan was still there, sitting close to her and playing with some wood, the red and orange lighting up his handsome features. 

“You can light a fire?” 

“Apparently, I can,” Haechan replied with a small smile on her face. 

“Tried to drown me?” She chuckled, regretting it when she felt all her muscles hurt. 

“Tried to clean you but I think you will leak my cum for weeks,” he commented. “I’m sorry, I even promised I would pull out but… you felt too good.” 

She laughed, “No worries, men do it all the time. And I’m on the pill, so no, I don’t think we’ll get a baby monster in nine months.” 

“I don’t know what the pill is but I put my trust in it.”

“Yeah, we all do.” 

Some silence passed before the monster broke it, gathering some courage to keep a conversation going. 

“How do you feel?” 

“Tired, and cold,” she giggled, rubbing her hands on the skin of her arms, and shifting closer to the only warm source. 

“I don’t have clothes, I could only lay you on that blanket because somebody dropped it in the bushes.” 

“One of my friends,” she rolled her eyes, suddenly reminded of them again. She hoped they didn’t run back to look for her, honestly. 

“It will be weird to explain,” Haechan whispered with a small chuckle on his lips.  

She shrugged. “Are my clothes ripped that badly?” 

He picked them up, they were torn in two with no hope of even putting an idea of clothes together. “I can’t control my strength.” 

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’ll try to find the strength to walk back to the tent and pretend nothing happened,” she said, rubbing her hands together, feeling that her limbs were freezing now that she didn’t have his body radiating so much heat, and moving even closer to the fire, trying to don’t pay attention to the discomfort. 

“Was it like you imagined?” Haechan finally dared to ask, shyly meeting her eyes, terrified of the answer. He was so good at screwing up, he didn’t even want to think about the few times he tried to get close to a human.

“Better,” she said, smiling when he looked down to hide the happy smile that was curling his lips too. “You’re so weird for being a monster.” 

“I’m just… not used to people like you,” he confessed, lifting his gaze. 

“Horny as fuck?” 

“Dumbass, I didn’t mean that,” he rolled his eyes. 

She laughed, shaking her head, looking up at the sky and thinking that it was so late and the walk back to their small camp was longer than ever in her condition. “Well, I better get going. As fun as it was, you also wrecked me and I think it will take some time to go back to the tent.” She stood up slowly, squirming in discomfort, forcing her muscles to do things they had no intention of doing. 

“Wait, will you come back?” 

Her lips curled into a teasing smile that then shifted into a tender one. “You want me to?” 

Haechan hesitated, what was the point of lying? “Yes. I still want to strangle you sometimes but I like you.” 

“Let’s do this, since this,” she pointed to her body, “is your fault and you still didn’t answer my questions. You’ll carry me back to my camp, we’ll chat about you, and then, we can even come up with a meeting plan.” 

“A plan? It sounds serious,” he joked but he was already standing up to reach her.  

“Isn’t it? Was I truly just a toy for you?” She winked, grabbing the blanket and wrapping it around her body. 

Haechan rolled his eyes, two tentacles slipping out of his back to lift her up in bridal style after he blew off the fire. 

“It may all depend on the questions you’ll ask me. And I’d like to remind you that I can always kill you.” 

She smiled, leaving a peck on his cheeks that made him pull away as he started to step into the forest, tentacles retracing, except the ones holding her up, his body heating up to don’t make her freeze. 

“You won’t. We have some things to discuss and I think it could take a while, maybe when I’m not covered in your cum and in a nicer place.” 

Haechan laughed, looking at her face, the usual teasing smirk barely curling her lips, and her eyes still looking at him with the same shine even if he could clearly tell that she was tired and was barely holding up. It would’ve been a miracle if she didn’t fall asleep in his hold on the way back. 

“You are so weird. Are all humans like this?” 

She smiled, snuggling closer to his chest, feeling his heart beating in his chest, “Only the best.” 

TAGLIST: @kpopgirl124127 @kwnshi @auroraichimaru @kundann @gaonsgf | let me know if you want to be added by commenting under the INFERNO masterlist

A/N: hope you liked it! let me know with comments, reblogs or even asks ♡

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Physical Graffiti

Author: entropic_saudade

Artist: BasketcaseBetty

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Endgame Dean Winchester/Castiel, Brief Dean Winchester/Ash, Brief Dean Winchester/Max Banes, John Winchester/Kate Milligan, Past John Winchester/Mary Winchester, Past Dean Winchester/Lee Webb, Past Dean Winchester/Cassie Robinson, Past Dean Winchester/Others, Past Castiel/Others, Implied Bobby Singer/Rufus Turner, Past Bobby Singer/Karen Singer, Harper Sayles/Vance, Edward Carrigan/Madge Carrigan, Jenny Sorenson/OMC, Larry Pike/Joanie Pike, Background Max/Stacy.

Length: 75000

Warnings: Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings. Additional Content Warnings: Self Harm, Alcohol Use Disorder, Recreational Drug Use, Child Abuse, Past Non-Con, Past Underage, Past Drug Addiction, Minor Character Death, Mental Health Issues

Tags: Case Fic, Murder Mystery, Horror Elements, Slow Burn, Journalist Dean Winchester, Detective Cas, Eventual Hopeful Ending, Families of Choice

Posting Date: November 4, 2024

Summary: The only ghosts and demons are the ones inside his head.  Fresh from a prematurely-ended stint at an inpatient psychiatric facility, ‘former’ self-harmer and functional alcoholic Dean Winchester returns to Sioux Falls, where he works as a crime journalist. His editor, Bobby Singer, sends him back home to Lawrence to gather the story on the murder of a teen boy and the recent disappearance of another. Painful memories from growing up resurface as the missing boy turns up horrifically dead and another goes missing.  The investigation is further complicated by the town’s gossipy tight-knit nature, Dad’s judgment, and botched attempts at making inroads with his estranged half-family, Kate and Adam Milligan.  Dean crosses paths with Castiel Novak, a renegade detective from Kansas City with a troubled past of his own. As they work together, they slip past each other’s defenses, unearthing each other’s secrets and digging for the truth.  As it turns out, monsters just might be real—and they just might live at home.  A Sharp Objects-inspired AU.

Excerpt: A dumpy parking lot, leaning against Baby’s hood, looking to the stars—it reminds Dean of doing the same with the football jocks. The way he’d smuggle stolen beer cans in Dad’s jacket pocket, turning him from ‘homo’ to ‘hero’ in their eyes. Stupidly, it reminds him of Lee.  Dean sneaks a glance over at Cas’ profile, tracing the angle of his jaw as he tilts his head up. The same stupid butterflies flap in his stomach. He suffocates them with a few swigs. “So, our arrangement. I’ll answer a question for each one you answer,” Cas offers, his adam’s apple bobbing.  “Deal.”  “What was it like growing up in Lawrence?” Dean whistles. “Starting with hardballs, huh? You don’t pull any punches.”  “Would you rather I ask for your favorite color?” Cas teases.  He groans. “No, none of that grade school shit. Gimme the real scoop.” Cas raises a pointed brow. You first. “Alright, Lawrence.” He sighs, bracing himself. “Mom had… my brother when I was four.” His voice wavers slightly when he brings up Sammy.  “Adam is much younger, though, isn’t he?”  “Different brother, Kate’s my stepmom. Me and Sam, we’re our Mom’s. She died when Sam was six months old. House fire.” Cas’ eyes sadden, but he doesn’t say anything. “But, as far as growing up—normal, I guess. Went to the school district nearby, was in wrestling for a little bit. I wasn’t some prodigy but I did okay, grades-wise.” “I bet you were Mr. Popular.” Dean barks a laugh. “Uh, no. Sorta depends on who you ask.” Depends on what year. “After graduation, I left for college.” Dean skips over the rest of the highlight reel.  “And Sam?” “Hey, you gotta answer at least one question first,” Dean pokes him. “Why is a detective from Kansas City down in Lawrence?”  “My supervisor likes to send me out on solo cases for assists. I don’t exactly work well with others.”  “Well, you and I make a pretty good team—a little chaotic, maybe, but at least we ruled two suspects off your list.”  “That we did. It’s a shame you’re not a detective.” “Reporters are detectives of sorts. We both look for narrative, just in different ways.” Cas gives a thoughtful hum. “My turn again. What happened to Sam?” Dean’s throat convulses. “He died. We were in our teens.” “What happened?” “He was sick all the time. One day, he just… kept getting worse. His body couldn’t take it.” Sammy’s ghost observed them, sadly, flickering in an in-between state.  “I’m sorry, Dean.”  They sit in silence for a few moments. Panic builds in Dean’s chest, and he worries that he’s ruined whatever rapport they’d been building.  “I’ll tell you something if you swear to not tell another soul?”  Dean nods, relief settling over him. He eats secrets for breakfast.  “The real reason I work Homicide is because it’s better than what I used to do.”  “What’s so bad that working Homicide is better?” Cas looked down and didn’t answer.

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[cmdrfupa]

i. Not Today

Toji x Reader

Working alone was always the rule. No one to slow you down when you had to run and no one for him to save when shit hit the fan. That's until the best in the game were needed together.

Former Mercenary/Hitman Toji Fushiguro only wants to make enough to disappear in the next year as the job is no longer worth the risk. You’ve found a way to just enjoy the thrill of the con as a professional grifter and former mafia fixer. Now forced to find out just how deep the world of art dealings goes as your next mark is far more twisted than you realized.

an: I wish I could tell you that I'll stop thinking about Toji but we know that’ll never happen. I've been revisiting games and media lately where the lead is some former army man with little to lose and I saw our dark-haired dilf immediately. Something felt right about it and here we are! A JJK AU where some of our faves will make an appearance.

CW for the series: adult themes, use of alcohol and drugs, sexual undertones, violence, full blown mature themes. Will be updated as necessary.

Dividers from the lovely @/saradika-graphics

Shiu made the mistake of scheduling Toji’s meeting at the same time as yours. He says your meeting was the mistake but let's be real. 

The only thing you wanted to do was avoid the smug bastard in the hallway. Which worked til now.

“Kong. I know I owe you, but this can't be what you're cashing in on.” the up and down you gave Toji made him grin.

“Ouch, princess. What if I'm the man you've been waiting for?”

“Then I’ll off myself and try again in my next reincarnation. Kong.” you looked back over to your already stressed friend of over a decade.

“Sorry kid. I need the best and both of you are my best. It won’t hurt to play nice.”  Shiu opened a fresh pack of cigarettes, effortlessly shaking one out and putting it in his mouth. 

Toji grabbed the lighter, igniting the flame for Shiu. “If you’re worried about your safety, you’re safe with me, doll face. It’s only for one night.” 

Bewildered was an understatement as Shiu shook his head, “A month.” 

“No can do, Shi. A month is fucking nuts.” 

You smiled, sitting on Shiu’s desk as Toji paced to the window. “Worried I won’t be able to protect you, Prince Charming? You're safe with me.” 

If the daggers in his eyes had their way, you would’ve felt them pierce your chest. “You’re cute but don’t push me.”

“Is someone getting angys?”

“Angys? Are you a child?”

“No, but I can beat your ass like a grown man.”

Grabbing the largest book on his desk, Shiu slammed it down with little effort. “Fucks sake, shut up. The both of you.” 

You swiftly jumped off his desk, shifting your attention back to the cigarette hanging from his lips, Toji came and stood beside you. It began to feel like a disciplinary meeting with the headmaster. 

“Look. It's a month-long job minimum. Per diem with an 800,000 payout at the end. They need a charmer and a fucking beast to retrieve some goods and get intel so you two need to work as a couple to get this done. Either you both take it, or it's off the table and you won't have shit to do for the next 3 months.”

“800 split?” you questioned.

“No. Per person.” 

800,000 would give you a more than comfy cushion to sit on for maybe a month. Then you'd get tired of the cushion and beg Shiu for something to keep you busy. There was never an end to the thrill of scamming the ultra-rich and occasionally watching the life drain from a few. 

“I will not be your babysitter during this. You're a grown-ass woman and I refuse to have a brat slow me down. Understood?”

He was so pretty in the off-white cable-knit sweater that swallowed him but that mouth was going to have you punching his throat in a matter of minutes. 

“I'm willing to do the job as long as your chained puppy can treat me like an adult. I can handle myself.” 

“Already the first steps towards being a loving couple. You're gonna be fine, kids.” Shiu stepped between you two, smiling as if he were a proud parent. He squeezed your shoulders. “Everything you need will be sent over in 2 hours. I have the twins working on your background stories and covers. You leave at the end of the week.”

Strength. Resilience. Mindfulness. Breathe.

“Why don't we get matching shirts so they know that you're mine? Sound good, sweetie?" The vibrato in the pet name gave your resolve a run for its money. Fortunately, the smug look on his face once you looked at him dried you back up. 

“Yeah! I think ‘I’m with dumbass’ would look cute in bubble letters on a baby tee, no?” 

The flight was more than perfect. Business class with every accommodation known to man thanks to Shiu knowing you would never do anything less. You settled into the second half of your flight preparing to get a little rest before landing. 

“Toji? Can you wake me when they come around with dining options?” you lowered the partition to find Toji intently reading a home improvement magazine.

“Just tell me what you want and I’ll order so I can wake you when it's here.”

“I don't know what they'll be serving. Just wake me—”

“There's an International and Japanese cuisine menu. Either beef filet steak with a red wine sauce and a side autumn plate or pasta gratin with chum salmon & black truffles with roasted pumpkin.” finally looking up from the magazine, his deadpan gaze met your face. “The Japanese cuisine has Wagyu curry with eggplant and mitsuba and sansho peppers or grilled black cod, a crab omelet with grilled shiitake and taro. What sounds good.” 

Taken aback, you bat your lashes trying to digest this robotic answer to your request.

“Did you not hear me?” 

“I did. You just.. Did you study the menu or something.” you rolled the partition down completely, studying the expressionless man. 

“It rolled across the screen earlier and I took a mental note of it. So, can you tell me so I can tell the cute attendant when I call for her to come back? She's a busy woman.” 

A sigh so deep you felt your nervous system reboot as you rolled your eyes. 

“Tell your girlfriend I’d like the grilled black cod meal please.”

“Will do. I'll try to get you an extra omelet for being such a supportive wife as I date around. Thank you, sweetheart.” Toji winked and rolled up the partition with a grin like a Cheshire cat spread across his mug. “Sweet dreams.” 

“You’ve gotta hurry up, doll face. The race starts in 30 minutes and the driver is pulling up any minute now. Let's go” Toji yelled through the hall as he made his way to your room in the villa. His loafers lightly clacked along the polished granite floors as he walked into your room. “You don't need a whole canister of paint for makeup. Just put some blush on and let's get moving.” 

“Can’t rush perfection, Fushiguro. And I'm just putting on my earrings. Relax.” you popped your head from the bathroom and raised your brows. “Wow. You clean up nicely. I thought you could only wear those tight-ass Uniqlo t-shirts.” 

A crisp, light blue button-down that could only do so much to hide his muscular build, and a pair of deep indigo chino pants to round off the fit. “Funny. Now can you please come on? We’re on a time crunch and I don't want to be around those old rotting money bags for longer than necessary.” 

Rolling your eyes as you went back to looking in the mirror one more time, you walked out to the bedroom. “Alright. Let's go.” 

Toji didn't have to say anything when his eyes did the talking for him. “You gotta wear shit like this more often. I'll be more open to actually listening to your words if you do.” 

You grimaced as you walked past him to the front door. “Please stop talking.” You smiled as you walked out, the driver holding the car door open as you gave him a warm thank you before sliding in.

Toji got in behind you, getting strapped in as you did. When given the clear, the driver pulled off. 

 “Doll face.”

“What, Toji.”

“Being married to you is fun. Best open relationship ever.”

Toji winked before going through his phone, going over the files one more time.

  “God. If you exist, please turn this shit over right now,” you whined as the car whirled down the road.

The sun hangs high over Monza’s glittering skyline, casting a golden sheen over the harbor and its rows of yachts. The thunderous roar of F1 engines echoed through the streets, as sleek cars zip past. The race is in full swing, but the real spectacle isn't on the track—it's in the VIP section.

The third row to the left of the podium sat your target: KK. 

Notorious organized crime affiliation who tends to dabble in high-stakes art deals, illicit trades, and other illegal acts. 

He smiled like a kid in a candy store watching how everyone tried to please his every desire. Two men stood behind him as he continued to conversate with the crowd around him.  

You both weaved through the crowd with practiced grace. Toji exchanges pleasantries with a collector while you check your reflection in the mirrored windows of the luxury suite, your gaze never drifting far from KK.

Feigning boredom, you let out a resounding sigh, twirling around to face Toji. “Formula One. I’ll never understand the appeal. It’s all so... mechanical.”

Expressed loud enough for nearby guests to hear, you elicited a few amused looks.

“You said the same thing about abstract art and now New York and half of Japan want your opinion on it.”

Toji’s laugh is light, effortless like he's done this a thousand times. 

Your banter catches the ear of Hashime, one of KK’s bodyguards, who’s leaning against a railing with an air of casual authority. 

His interest now piqued, he glances between the two. Toji catches Hashime’s eye and offers a polite nod. He returns the nod and steps toward you both.

The pale blue-haired minion seized you up “You’re into art, huh? Never understood it myself. What’s the secret to knowing if something’s worth millions or not?” 

“Everyone’s chasing an enigma. If you can give them a story full of mystery and wonder, more will want it. If you can do that, then you can sell a painting to a blind man.” 

Joining smoothly, Toji wrapped his arm around your waist smiling. “Rare pieces, hard-to-find items, things worth killing for. They have a way of getting it all.”  

“I've heard Mr. KK over there has some of the best pieces to never be seen by the public. What I would give to just catch a glimpse.” Your voice lowered.

“He doesn't just let anyone see the collection.”

Leaning in slightly, you dropped your tone, whispering more intimately. “Of course not. Someone with his... connections... would appreciate only the most discerning eyes.”

Hashime's eyes narrow, his guard raised. You felt the energy shift, but remained calm, letting Toji take the lead from this point. 

“Stay here.” Hashime stepped away, walking towards KK.

Apprehension settled into your gut as you watched KKs dark eyes find you and Toji. Refusing to falter, you smiled and placed your hand on Toji’s abs. “You think this’ll work?”

“Of course it will. We just have to sell him on the most dangerous art deal of his life. He can't say no to what we have.”

A brief moment of calculation crosses his face, and then he stands, straightening his jacket. KK approaches you, a smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes forming on his lips before he reaches out to take your hand. You obliged as he kissed your knuckles before shaking Toji’s hand. 

  “I tend to know everyone who breathes air in the art world yet neither of you look familiar.” KK smiled, placing his hands back in his pockets. 

  “If everyone knew us, I’d say we were doing awful at our job.”

KK looked over at Hashime and gave an almost girlish laugh as he raised his champagne.

“Hard to find. Good. After the race, let's talk.” He nodded, giving Hashime the go to give you his business card. Mozying back to his seat, you looked down at his card:

  Retrieval Services

Kenjaku

IT/JP/US

[lemon-russ]

I got carried away, and I think the fact that the last like, 7? books I read were Brandon Sanderson has made me long winded and afraid of sex /s

But we are back to Cato's POV, this is kinda turning into a slower burn than intended, but it will eventually become horny lmao

also, thanks everyone liking it! Did not think anyone would see it, love this like 50 person community of niche warhammer fic and smut lovers <3

Part 3/ ???

part:: 1 :: 2 :: 3 :: 4 :: 5 :: 6 :: 7

Cato Sicarius x F!Reader

(Cato POV 3rd person though)

CW: Violence, blood, descriptions of a vehicle crashing, no sex yet but there will be later, Cato being a bully (like, verbally only)

Summary: Shit hits the fan, Cato and Diplomat have to skedaddle.

word count: 2,208 (the man has possessed me)

Cato tosses the stupid woman into the seat of the thunderhawk, stomping over to the pilot seat. The small crew of 3 humans that had brought them here seem startled by his sudden appearance, and then by his actual appearance as he is coated in blood.

“Go. Now. Back to The Honour.” He commands. The pilot nods and starts punching in things on the terminals, and the two gunners look concerned. Stupid baseline humans, were they all so slow? “Rebellion.” He says, deigning to explain it to them. They frown and look between them, then man their guns. Finally. He looks back at the woman. She was bruised, and now covered in blood. Pretty sure it was from him carrying her- stupid thing can't keep up so he was forced to sling her like a sack back to the thunderhawk. The corner of his mouth twitches down a bit. No it was definitely blood from his armor.

But Guilliman would be upset if she was bleeding and he didn't fix it. Her impractical gown was torn a bit now, blood stained, and dirty. Damn it. “Woman.” He barks at her, making her jump a bit. “Are you injured?” He says, making sure to sound appropriately unconcerned. Because he isn't concerned. Obviously.

She frowns and knits her brow into that throne damned look of confusion she always seemed to have. By the Emperor her brain was smooth. “I said, are you injured?” He drawls out slowly, like he's talking to an especially slow child.

She shakes her head. “Uh, no, nothing besides some scrapes and bruises-” She says in a stupid, puzzled tone. Before she finishes Cato is turning away. Good enough. He sighs a little at the answer- wait why is he relieved at that? Right, his duty. If she was hurt he'd have failed his Father and he hates that. Of course he's relieved she's unharmed.

“Are you almost ready to take off?” He snaps at the pilot impatiently. It'd been nearly a whole minute since he ordered them back to the ship. Why was everyone incompetent but him here?

The pilot frowns and shoots him a look as the small ship starts whirring and taking off from the ground, ramps receding and doors closing. Finally. The ship lurches a bit and the Ambassador falls to the side in her seat at the movement. By the throne, did he have to do everything for her? He stomps over and rights her in her seat, strapping her in with the safety harness. “Can't you do anything but breathe and waste time?” He grumbles at her, tightening the straps a bit too hard and making her wince. “You'll break your skull unbelted, even if it's so hard it might hurt the craft first.” He huffs, stomping out to a window. She wears that stupid confused face still, but he ignores her.

His mood is soured further as he actually sees outside. Human rebels are pouring from the manor they had just left, heading to the Thunderhawk. Which wouldn't be a big issue, except there were so many. The gunner on this side starts mowing them down, but they just keep coming, and the ones in the back are preparing an artillery mortar. Fuck- “The back! Target that mortar, now!” He barks at the gunner.

The gunner tries to move his shots toward the artillery, but the panicked lurching of the craft as the Pilot is flooring it ruins his aim. Throne damned baseline humans- he pushes the gunner off the controls, taking over. His superior reaction speed and aim should be able to handle this, and he turns the gun toward the back line-

There's the familiar thumph of an artillery shell launching. Fuck fuck fuck- “DOWN, BRACE FOR IMPACT-!” He barks, and in two strides he's covering the stupid, soft, breakable-bone filled ambassador with himself. The ship lurches hard as the mortar shell crashes into the back engine.

Lights flash red, there's screaming and alarms, another thumph and another crash into the front of the ship now. He affixes his helmet and curls around the woman, who is bracing herself and curling into a ball to fit better under him. Maybe her brain has a wrinkle of survival instinct in it after all. Flames and shrapnel sweep through in a concussive wave, bouncing off his armor in sharp tink tink tink sounds, and he feels the gut lurching effect of suddenly losing gravity- no, falling, the ship was falling-

His senses hone and time slows as he bunkers down over the diplomat. He stares down at her as they hit the curve from accelerating up, to zero G, and then to falling down. Her hair is floating up around her face, and she looks terrified, looking up at him with wide eyes. Tears are rolling down her cheeks- oh shit she's crying. Oh Emperor he hates women crying. He should say something, or it will distract him.

Bracing himself around her seat, he shouts over the cacophony of terror and panic. “You're okay- I got you.” His voice comes out modulated by his helmet's vox speakers, but her expression shifts just a little at his words, from terror to, well still scared and shocked but at least she might stop crying now. Holy Terra he hates crying.

Suddenly they are crashing into the ground, and he has to focus on not flattening her as his 1000 lbs of plasteel and ceramite clad self suddenly goes from falling to stopping in a second. He braces himself into a cocoon and her seat cushions her impact a bit, though he winces as she immediately gets whiplash from the recoiling force. He quickly moves a hand to brace her head a little so it doesn't snap back again so hard.

As soon as they are no longer actively crashing, he's unbuckling her and scooping her to his chest. Scoping the damage, he grimaces. The crew are dead, thunderhawk is in ruins, and there's a small army of rebel humans heading their way. cradling her to his chest, hand still on the back of her head- he's unsure if that whiplash cause any spinal damage and he'd rather her not die of a broken neck in his arms, his genefather would be furious, of course- he starts charging out the broken hull of the ship, away from the army and towards some rock formations in the distance.

He sprints as fast as he can go, which is pretty fast, even in his armor, but he slows when he feels the ambassador bump against his chest plate. Mortals and their soft, breakable bodies. Why is her neck so thin? A stiff breeze could snap it, and why is her skin so bruisable- should he be worried about the purple splotches already staining her arms and face? Does she have internal injuries he needs to worry about? Fuck she was annoying.

He groans in frustration and slows his stride to something he can maintain while cradling her safely and smoothly against him. It's fine, the rebels are so slow they are already a blob in the distance. He's got this. He's Cato Sicarius, he's always got this. He spots a rocky hole he hopes is a safe cave, but frowns. They're running over fine dirt, his foot prints clearly visible.

He halts his stride, making the woman make a soft noise of surprise. She outright yelps though when he grabs her stupid, long, trailing gown at the knee and yanks on it. The krrchh of tearing fabric startles her. “Hey-! what are you-!” She squeaks out, but he's already tossing his power sword into the fabric. He places her on the ground gingerly, laying her head carefully, and pulls utility cordage from a compartment of his armor, tying it to the satchel he just made.

He picks her up in one arm, holding her like a child to his shoulder with hand on her head, and starts walking, dragging the sword-dress-bag behind them, erasing his footprints in the dirt as they walked. She peaks over his shoulder at his creation. “Oh- Okay, that's actually pretty smart.” She says, sounding surprised. He scowls in his helmet. “Of course it is-” he snaps, “Do you underestimate me so much that you think I'd lead enemies to our location? Or are you merely so vacant that you are surprised it is even a worry?” He growls. How dare this mortal woman doubt his ability to fulfill his duty to protect her stupid, squishy, useless body.

She huffs an annoyed noise. “Are you capable of not being a complete asshole for five minutes, Captain?” She snaps back. He bristles a bit. “Watch your tongue, woman, or I'll have to tap that empty little skull of yours and simply drag you about unconscious. Honestly, that'd be easier.” He adds, actually contemplating it. He already made a bag, he could just stuff her in it, like a safe little hammock… A little diplomat sack, for easy handling. He nearly chuckles at the mental image.

She mumbles grumpily, “That broom on your head must be from shoving it so far up your ass-”, but he ignores her insolent whining, focusing on getting to the cave he spotted. He ducks into the rock formation, grateful to see it is only a pocket and not a whole cave, so no surprises, and when he’s satisfied it is clear of dangerous fauna, he moves to drop her on her ass on the floor.

But he stops himself, frowning. He wasn't sure if her neck was injured or not, and he needed to asses for internal damage. “Emperor, you're such a pain in the ass.” He huffs as he carefully lays her on her back, supporting her neck. “you'd certainly know about pains in your ass with that broom-” she grumbles, trying to sit up. He frowns again and holds her down. “Stop that. Your neck may be inured. Just stay still for a moment.” he scolds.

He peeks out of the cave. They left no tracks, and he sees no troops. He quickly gathers some foliage- brown and dry, what a hellscape planet, did they even want them in the Imperium- and uses it to cover the cave entrance. He sits down next to her, removing his helmet and sighing a deep, tired sigh. “You are the worst thing to ever happen to me.” He states plainly, glowering down at her. She frowns up at him. “Really. Me. Out of all of your Centuries of battle and bloodshed, the worse thing to happen to you is having to guard me for a single mission.” She retorts.

He nodded once. “Yes, exactly. Glad you're keeping up.” He says, trying not to smirk at how angry she seems to get at that. “Cato Sicarius, I swear by the Emperor's holy light you are the single most infuriating person that I have ever been forced to deal with, and I am including the Chancellor that just sicked an army on us-” She starts to yell, trying to sit up again. He pushes her back down carefully by the shoulder, making her growl in frustration. “Neck.” he says, smirking at her tiny rage. Like a puffed up kitten, spitting and hissing at a guard dog.

“Also, that Rolf whatever man is dead. Obviously. So, planet is ours basically when we get off here.” He adds casually. She blinks up at him. “You killed him?” she asks, and he furrows his brow and frowns down at her. “Yes? of course. I killed them all. and half the place on my way to you.” He says, smiling at the memory. Ah, the glory of battle. It would have been better had they been better armed, and maybe if there were more of them. He prefers a challenge. Instead he decided to challenge himself to how many he could dispatch within 20 seconds. That made it more entertaining.

She sighs and rubs her face. “Fine, I guess doing this diplomatically was off the table anyway when they took our ship out. Oh- did you vox up to the Honour yet?” she asks. He shakes his head. “No, I saw signal towers on the way in. I worried they would intercept the vox and find us. I'm going to wait a bit for that army to disperse so they aren't on top of us if we're triangulated.”

She sighs and stares at the ceiling, looking exhausted. Was that normal? she looked pale, could that be internal bleeding? His stomach flipped, and he immediately recoils at the feeling. Why did he worry so much? Of course he wants to do his duty and obey his Primarch, but really if she died of medical complications he probably wouldn't even be punished. Yet when he thought of having to leave her corpse on this backwater wasteland of a planet, his chest tightened. He simply would not allow that to come to pass, then he never had to unpack the feelings. There, boom, done. Psychology solved. He smiled to himself and settled back against the wall. Was there any field he could not master? Of course not. He's Cato Sicarius, he's simply the best at everything.

[sintiva]

Ooooo CONNIE CONFESSING HIS FEELINGS TO YOU WHILE HIGH PLSPLSPLS I NEED IT PLS

MY KINGGGG, i haven’t written for him in so long, so i hopw this is okay 😭

content: they’re both high, a cute confession, connie rambles when high

connie’s been waiting for ages to tell you how he’s felt. every time the words burn at the tip of his tongue in anticipation to get out of his mouth; he does a big inhale to swallow them back. but not this time, this time it would be different — it had to be! so as he swirls the blunt in between his fingers. flutters his eyes shut as the smoke creeps it’s way into his lungs. he grimmaces as the burning herb sneaks up his nose, and burns right in his sinus area. hand flying to his mouth to hold back a cough from a terrible pull. his nerves made his breaths deeper and his body antsy.

he sits, eyes flicking back and forth as he avoids your gaze. he can feel your eyes burning holes into the sides of his head. but this is his time to shine. he has to do it now, or else you’ll be gone in the blink of an eye. tired of waiting for a confession that wasn’t promised, but it was on its way.

connie

he taps his fingers against his thigh as it bounces. the blunt lays still between his fingers; ash drifting to your carpet, bits of it flake off and fall on your bean bag.

connn’

hmm, his mind stills, but his heart beats a ferocious rhythm in his chest as he plans on his confession. something simple that’ll still strum at the strings of your heart — maybe if you aren’t too high — then his feelings of “one-sided” pining would have a chance at being well received.

the burning embers still, and the slim line of red that wraps around the blunts end is out. connie’s grey eyes are lazily staring into yours. the whites of them red and laced with a desire so vast he can not formulate the right words. his head feels fuzzy, eyes scoping in on every single individual aspect on your face. your lips, eyebrows, lashes; then your tongue that pokes at your cheek when you’re anxious.

“connie! you’re not listening! you’ve got ash all over my fucking floor and bean bag.” your fist ball up on his knees and now your hovering over him as you scowl at him. “how are you gonna clean this shit, y’know it gets messy.” you whine and rock back onto your heels.

then somehow your stumbling onto his lap, entranced by a smirk and his light-airy persona. then he’s cupping your cheek, and smacking his lips against yours. sucking your tongue and dropping the blunt onto your carpet; ashes every. fucking. where. he pulls away, utterly stricken with that crazy phenomena that makes a person want to get on one knee cause they’re that in love with you. “fuck,” he runs the back of his hand against his lips that’s now sticky with mint lipgloss, “i’ve always wanted to do that.”

you smack your lips, let out a gasp, and then you’re letting out teeny giggles that make con’s heart burst. “yeah? you’ve been thinking about that all this time?”

“if it wasn’t for the weed, i’d think you’d like me or something.” you chuckle and tap your indexes against his chest. then you cup his cheeks and press the pads of your thumbs against his lips. they quiver before an — i do comes out.

“you… what?” your eyebrows knit together. “i mean, yeah?…i like you, is there a problem with that?”

“is this connie talking, or the weed?”

connie rolls his eyes, and flips your hoodie onto your curls, knowing it’s something you hate cause now your hair is gonna be super frizzy. but before you can say anything; eyes wide and lips posed in agitation, he slides his hand over your mouth and starts off by clearing his throat, “i, connie springer, do in fact have feelings for the girl who mysteriously ended up in my lap. was i not supposed to fall for the girl who i talk to everyday?”

“you’re fine as fuck, i’m not gonna hide from that fact anymore, and i’m tired of acting like i don’t like you. if you wanna take it as the weed talking you can, but i know for a fact that this is how i feel, and i didn’t have the guts to tell you cause when i get with you my head feels all fucked up and i can’t think. but i’ve always been sure of it, and i’m not gonna hide that fact anymore. sure, i’m an idiot, but i can be your idiot <3”.

and just know he said that with the dumbest grin and the softest puppy eyes.