#knowing he’s just been fucking waiting for me to pull the trigger and leave him

[wewontbesleeping]

I WOULDN’T MARRY ME EITHER

[sweetestdesire]

ANGRY INSIGHT

WARNINGS: hair pulling, extreme domination, spanking, mentions of masturbation, public sexual acts, exhibitionist kink, etc. 18+ readers only

PAIRING(S): Jack Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which Fem!Reader asks Jack Hughes to take his anger out on her.

Jack didn't say anything as they left the Prudential Center, pausing so he could pull his hoodie on before going out into the chilly parking lot. He didn't say anything when they got to his Range Rover, though he slammed the trunk a little harder than strictly necessary after putting his hockey bag in it.

Y/N didn't push it, assuming he might want a few minutes to collect his thoughts, but when he still hadn't said anything after they’d left the arena and were about to turn onto the highway, she had enough.

"So, that was different.” Y/N said.

Jack still didn't speak for a moment. Then, he took a deep breath and let it out. "Just say it, Y/N."

"Say what?"

His jaw clenched as he slowed at a stop sign and he went silent again. Annoyed, she waited until he'd turned, then folded her arms and looked at him as he drove.

"Say what, Jack?"

"That you hated it.” Jack snapped. "That you think I'm a complete asshole. Or that you're questioning whether you want this to continue because you don't want a boyfriend who's aggressive and rough and all the things I know you don't like in a guy."

"What are you talking about?”

"You looked horrified.” He said. "And that was exactly what I thought would happen." Jack waved his hand slightly before grabbing the steering wheel again. "It's the one fucking place I can just let loose, but everyone thinks this is all I am. And now you're gonna think so, too."

"How do you know what I think if you haven't bothered asking me?" Y/N asked flatly.

He let out a dry chuckle. "Because I'm dreading what you're gonna say. But you still gotta say it, so just tell me you hated seeing me like that and that you're gonna leave me for someone who has a better way to deal with his anger."

Y/N looked at him, but he steadfastly kept his eyes on the road. "And what if I liked seeing you like that?" She finally asked.

Even in profile, she could see the lack of belief on Jack’s face. "You're the sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life. There's no way you liked seeing me like that."

Faced with admitting it, Y/N hesitated. As guilty as she felt about it, she had enjoyed watching him play and getting rough with the other guys out there, at least for the first part. He'd dominated the game with a sort of graceful power that kept making her breath catch in her throat and visions of his hands pinning her down running through her mind.

The thing Y/N hadn't liked was watching him hurt another person, which he'd done because why? Because the guy knew he would. Because everyone in that arena except for her knew about Jack’s apparent anger on the ice. The man he'd punched had known that and played into it, purposely doing things that would trigger his temper and turn him into the pouty, sullen man currently in the driver's seat.

"I liked watching you play.” Y/N finally said, then turned so she was facing forward. "I didn't like that you're a sore loser."

Jack’s head snapped towards me. "What?"

"You're a sore loser.” She repeated, staring straight ahead.

He looked at the road again. "We didn't lose, we won. I scored two goals."

She shrugged. "Maybe your team won, but you got thrown out. If you had just let him talk his shit, he would've been thrown out and you wouldn't have. And now you can't play in the next game, right? The man beside me said you got suspended."

Jack’s jaw twitched. Y/N watched him from the corner of her eye, then looked out the passenger window.

"You're wrong if you think I have a problem watching you play rough. What I didn't like was watching you hurt someone on purpose because you were pouting about him being a jerk."

"I wasn't pouting.” He grumbled.

"You're pouting now."

"I'm not pouting, Y/N.” He repeated testily. "I can't help it, okay? This is just how I..." Jack let out a frustrated sigh. "I don't even know, okay? This is the one place, the one thing that I can take out my anger on. Should I probably get help figuring out a better way to deal with it? Probably, yeah, but I haven't, and now it's probably gonna cost me you."

"How is this costing you me? I'm not breaking up with you. I told you, I liked what I saw.”

"You expect me to believe that?" Jack said. "You expect me to believe you, the person who hates it when people raise their voices at each other, let alone actually fight, liked watching me act like some kind of asshole taking out all his shit on the opposing team?"

"I liked watching you play.” Y/N clarified. "And yes, even the parts that were a little rougher. It was hot, Jack, okay? What wasn't hot was when you punched that guy just because you were angry." Her heart thudded in her chest and she bit her lip, not quite sure if she was going to say what was on her mind until the words began spilling out of her mouth. "So, instead of taking it out on some random player when he purposely pushes your buttons, maybe you can take some of it out on me."

Again, his neck twisted towards her so fast that she was worried he might get whiplash. She pretended not to notice, instead continuing to look out the window.

"What was that?" Jack asked in a flat, icy voice.

Her tongue felt very dry. "Maybe this is something I can help you with."

"What the fuck are you trying to say here, Y/N?"

"I..."

"Jesus Christ." Jack turned away, a shaky laugh escaping his throat. "You think I'm gonna hurt you? Fucking hit you?"

It was her turn to whip her head towards him. "Absolutely not."

"Then what the hell are you talking about?”

"Sex, Jack. I'm talking about sex."

"Sex.” He repeated heatedly, then frowned. "Sex?"

"Like, as a substitute."

"Rough sex, you mean."

Y/N could feel warmth creeping up her neck from the spot on her collarbone he always said turned pink first. "Yes."

"No."

"Why not?”

"Because I don't want to fucking hurt my girlfriend!" Jack snapped. "God, half the time I'm with you, I'm scared I could break you, even though I'm doing everything I can to hold back."

"I'm not as delicate as you seem to think I am."

"And despite what you saw today, you seem to think I'm a hell of a lot more capable of controlling my anger than I actually am." He shook his head. "Just no, Y/N."

"Even though I was so turned on during the first part of your game that I was trying to figure out if there was somewhere on the way home you could pull over so we could fuck in your car?"

His eyes nearly popped out of his head. "Since when do you talk like this?"

The statement might have been bold, but her hands were definitely sweating. Y/N pressed them to her thighs and tried to pretend she knew where she was going with this.

"I told you," Y/N said. "It almost bothers me how much I enjoyed seeing you let loose and just become this sort of primal, animalistic man that I'd never seen before. I liked that they were a little scared of you. I'm sure that says something about me that I don't want to think about, but it's the truth."

His throat flexed as he swallowed.

"Then you got all pouty, and I didn't like that.” She continued. "So this could be like a solution for you. You could punch a guy in the face or you could save up all those frustrations and bring them to me at the end of the game."

His mouth was still partly open as he listened, soft puffs of breath escaping as he kept looking at the road ahead of him.

Y/N bit her lip, then grasped small handfuls of the fabric on her skirt. "Just think of it. Your next game, when some stupid jerk makes you mad, you can look up at me sitting in the stands and know that if you don't act like an asshole, you get to bring me home, pin me to the wall, and fuck me until I can't walk anymore. I think that would feel a little better than punching a guy, don't you?"

"No.” Jack finally said, his voice hoarse. "I mean, yes, but I can't do that to you."

"I mean, you could. If you wanted to."

"I don't want to."

She glanced down. "If you wanted me to believe that, you shouldn't have worn your gray sweatpants."

Jack dropped his hand to his lap, his face turning red as he tried to adjust himself so his erection was a little less prominent, but failing in the most successful way. "That isn't the kind of guy I am.” He said, his voice strained.

"It's the kind of guy you are at least once a week." Y/N looked down at his lap. "And it turns out, maybe once a week I'm the kind of girl who really, really likes that."

"I don't want to hurt you, Y/N.” Jack sounded frustrated, a pained look on his face. "I don't know why you would want me to. You saw how hard I hit that guy.”

"I'm not asking you to hurt me.” Y/N said. "I'm asking you to fuck me and take me however you want me. I know if it was too much, all I'd have to do is ask you to stop and you would. Because regardless of who you think you are when you're out on that ice, I know I can trust you."

Jack was silent, and she didn't know what else to say. She didn't know what else she could say. Part of her was frustrated with him and part of her was feeling rejected. That part, along with most of the rest of her, was embarrassed she’d ever brought up her half-baked idea of using sex to help him get his frustrations out, which had been a cover up for the fact that she wanted it rough.

But Jack didn't, and that was fine, and maybe they both just needed to walk away from this conversation so they could go back to the way things were before she insisted she wanted to watch his game. Maybe it was naïve of her to hope for that, or maybe it was delusional, but regardless of what Jack had thought might happen when she saw him act the way he had, she didn't want to break up. She hoped he didn't, either, even though she knew he was frustrated with her.

Y/N was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn't notice until after they’d turned that he'd switched lanes and taken them onto one of the many side roads along the highway. As fences and trees filled her view and something like worry filled her chest, she turned to him.

"Jack?" She asked nervously.

His throat flexed. "You said you trust me?"

Y/N had said that, and she had meant it. Swallowing, she nodded, then flattened her palms against her thighs again and watched as they went further and further down the road. A few minutes later, he turned onto another side road, and then another, until he found a road that was mostly hidden from view by trees on both sides.

Jack slowed when he saw one of those dead-end turnouts that led onto some field and pulled into it so the side of the Range Rover was blocked from the view of the road. Then, he turned off the vehicle and undid his seatbelt.

Jack glanced down at her lap, where fistfuls of fabric from her skirt were still balled in her hands. "You want me to fuck you?"

Oh. Oh, God. Her breath caught in her throat. "Here?"

"You said you wanted me to take you however I wanted you."

She had definitely said that, too. And she had very much meant it. "Uh-huh.” Y/N whispered.

"So yes, here." His voice was a low rumble. "Answer the question."

"What?”

"Now is the time to back out if you want to back out.” Jack said. "Do you want me to fuck you or not?"

"Yes.” She said without hesitation.

"Then take off your fucking seatbelt."

Y/N immediately let go of her skirt and pressed the buckle, letting the belt slip away from her body. There wasn't even time for her to take a full breath before Jack grabbed her and pulled her over the console, guiding her so she was straddling his lap. She gasped in surprise, then jumped when a loud honk echoed through the abandoned air around them as her ass hit the horn on his steering wheel. She let out a startled laugh, but Jack didn't so much as smile; he reached under the seat and half a second later, he pushed the seat back as far as it would go and she jolted forward, slamming her chest against his.

One strong arm was around her in an instant, holding her hard against his body as the other hand went up to her neck. Jack pulled her head forward, capturing her mouth in a bruising hard kiss. An unintentional moan slipped out and he grunted, pushing his hips up so his bulge pressed against her mound.

"If you want me to stop," Jack mumbled against her mouth, "you say 'stop’ as loud as you can, the second you want me to. Otherwise, you're fucking mine. Understand?"

Y/N nodded. He sank his teeth into her bottom lip. "Say you understand."

"I understand.” She whispered breathlessly.

Jack bit down again and she whimpered, but he didn't release her lip until his hand shifted and moved up, his fingers slowly raking through the hair at the base of her neck. The steady, creeping motion of his hand sent a shiver of anticipation through her, her shoulders tensing as her breath came in short, excited puffs.

Then, all at once, Jack tightened his fist around her hair and tugged, making her gasp again and forcing her head back so her neck was revealed to him. He had complete command of her body, one strong arm still clutching her to his chest and her head immobile from how tight a grip he had on her hair.

One gentle kiss was placed at the base of her throat, a complete contradiction to the way he was holding her, but that tenderness didn't last. Maybe he was timing it, the beating of her heart forceful enough that he could feel her pulse beneath his lips, but it was just enough to remind them both of the person Jack truly was — sweet, kind, loving, and generous in all things before he submitted to the person he was on the ice.

A heartbeat after he kissed her neck, he buried his face against it, his teeth dragging along her skin, not quite biting but informing her without words that he very well could, if he wanted to. Jack flicked out his tongue, tasting every inch of her neck before deciding which one he wanted to suck on.

"You're gonna leave a mark.” Y/N whispered as she felt a slight pinch.

He sucked harder, then released the spot. "And you're gonna like it."

Well, that was true. That mark was followed by another one, and then one slightly lower after he undid the zipper on her jacket and pulled the collar of her shirt down so he could leave one along her collarbone. A pleasurable tingle radiated from each of the places he'd claimed, making her shiver.

Jack tugged her head further back so he could admire the workmanship he'd put into branding her, then placed another contradictory kiss on her collarbone before he released his grip on her hair. Her head fell forward and he pushed his mouth against hers, his breath hot and needy on her skin.

"This is what you wanted?" He asked.

Y/N almost said yes, then stopped as a delightfully wicked thought crossed her mind. “I want more.” She said instead.

Jack laughed. Not at her, not in a way that said he thought she was being funny. No, it was more of a chuckle, a knowing sound that was full of promise and ego, a rumble that made her very glad she wasn't standing because her knees would have given out from the rush of electricity that surged through her.

"You asked for it, baby.” Jack growled, and then her jacket was torn from her body.

Y/N couldn't keep up with his hands. It was a whirlwind of motions: her jacket was tossed to the side as he buried his face against her clothed chest, then there was a large hand splayed on each of her hips, pushing her down onto the thick bulge beneath her. She moaned and suddenly her shirt was gone, yanked over her head and tossed away while Jack’s lips and teeth claimed the revealed skin on her chest. He groaned into the tops of her breasts, a low sound that seemed to drip through each of her nerves and down to her panties, which were already so wet that she was sure they were leaking onto his sweatpants.

Jack thrust up against her, making her breasts jiggle against his face as he pushed his arousal against her still-covered pussy. Y/N indulged in the friction, craving more and rolling her hips as much as she could beneath the unforgiving hold his hands had on her. She, however, was not in charge.

"You want this?" Jack asked, then forced her hips forward and back, making her grind against his cock much harder and driving a pleasured yelp from her mouth.

"Yes.” Y/N said breathlessly. "I want it."

"You want it?” Jack repeated, almost taunting her. "You want this cock so bad, don't you, pretty girl?"

"Yes.” She said again, nearly wailing. "Please, I want you to fuck me."

"No.” Jack said, then laughed when she made a distressed noise. "Not yet."

"But I want you inside me."

"Oh, I'm about to be inside you." Jack let go of her hips, sliding his hand to the side of the seat again. "But not the way you want. This is what I want."

With that, Jack pulled the handle that reclined the seat, tilting it back just enough that when he pushed her off his lap and onto the floor beneath the steering wheel, she had easy access to the hard cock straining the front of his pants. Even though she was hornier than she’d ever been in her entire life, Y/N had to marvel as she adjusted her position between Jack’s legs.

The people who made his Range Rover were not fucking around when it came to leg room. She was able to lean forward enough to hook her fingers into the waistband of his sweats and tug them down, noting as she did that there was indeed a wet spot on the front of them. Whether that was from her or from the leaking cock still encased in his boxer-briefs, she didn't know; those had a wet spot on them too, but she didn't have time to examine it.

"Take it out, Y/N.” Jack demanded when she paused.

Y/N did as he asked, slipping his underwear down and revealing his gorgeously thick, already weeping cock. She bit back a smirk as she looked at the veiny, throbbing erection jutting up in front of her. Jack lifted his hips just enough to let her get his boxer-briefs to the middle of his thighs before grabbing her hair again and pulling her head forward. The tip of his cock brushed against her lips and she looked up at him, his eyes betraying his need even more than the hardness of his cock did.

"Open your mouth.” Jack said.

In what she hoped was a teasing, coquettish way, Y/N parted her lips just slightly. He waited, then tightened his grip on her hair, his eyes darkening.

"Do you want this cock or not?" Jack asked. "Open it properly or I'll do it for you. I think one of those things is gonna feel better than the other, don't you?"

Eyes wide as he taunted her with her own words, Y/N let her jaw fall the rest of the way open. Instantly, Jack pushed his cock forward, driving it past her lips and letting the head drag across her tongue. There was a brief moment when she could taste the flavor of him, a faint hint of soap and salt and raw need, and then he shoved himself to the back of her throat.

The urge to gag flared up, tears springing into her eyes as her stomach started clenching. Y/N fought it with everything she had, knowing Jack would hear her choke and pull back immediately, that look of primal lust fading as he worried that he'd gone too far. And that was the absolute last thing she wanted, not when they’d just started and she was reveling in the way he was looking at her and speaking to her and using her.

Inhaling sharply through her nose, Y/N managed to repress it, though just barely. Jack seemed to notice or at least suspect something and the hand in her hair loosened. Panicked, she lifted her hand to his and looked up at him, hoping her eyes weren't watering too much, and held his gaze as she pressed down on his hand.

"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack hissed, and she let her hand drop away as his other hand moved to the back of her head.

There was no point in her trying to control the pace of the blowjob. Jack took over, staring directly into her eyes as he moved her head the way he wanted to. And as much as she hated to admit it, she loved it. Her body was singing, her nipples hard beneath her bra and her pussy dripping. She squirmed, but there wasn't enough room in the wheel well for her to properly shift.

So with her lips wrapped around him and his cock dragging along her tongue with each thrust, Y/N moved her hands from where they were sitting uselessly on his thighs. Between his thrusts, she wormed her arms down to her sides, her shoulders pressed tight against his knees as he used her face. It wasn't until she’d worked the hem of her skirt up in one hand that Jack realized what she was doing.

"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack breathed, moving one hand off her head so he could see better. "Are you going to touch yourself while you suck my cock?"

Y/N made a choked noise against the cock in her throat that was intended to be either an affirmative answer or a moan. She wasn't exactly sure, but she held his gaze as she worked her fingers into her panties by pulling them to the side, since she couldn't lift her shoulder enough to slide them in from the waistband.

Another choked noise rumbled against his cock as she felt the slickness of her pussy. Y/N was beyond soaked; everything from her thighs to her folds to her mound was coated in wetness and her pussy was so warm that she could feel the heat without even pushing a finger inside.

Her body felt hollow, desperate for something that would satiate that hungry, yearning ache, and the best she could do right then was her finger. She slipped it inside and whimpered, though the sound was muffled. Jack groaned and rested one arm against the car door while gathering her hair in his hand again.

"That's right, baby.” Jack said. "Fuck yourself while I fuck your mouth. Make yourself feel good."

Y/N pushed another finger inside herself and brushed the base of her thumb against her clit. Relief soared through her and her eyes fluttered closed involuntarily as her pussy walls squeezed around her fingers. Jack yanked her hair hard and her eyes flew back open.

"No.” Jack grunted. "I'm the one letting you play with yourself, so you let me look at you while you touch your greedy little pussy."

Hardly daring to blink, Y/N stared up at him, certain that her eyes were wide and her cheeks were flushed pink. A sloppy mix of spit and pre-cum trickled down her chin as he kept fucking her head down on his cock, dripping onto her chest and the tops of her still-contained breasts.

"Good girl.” Jack whispered. "You look so fucking irresistible right now, baby. Keep taking it. You're taking it so good."

Y/N’s thighs trembled, his words so stimulating that it was almost like they were touching her clit rather than her hand. Short, quick bursts through her nose were the only way she could breathe, though that wasn't why she was feeling light-headed. That was from the pleasure, from the way she was fingering herself, from the buildup of bliss that was radiating from that eager, aching spot in the core of her body.

It rose and spread, delight dancing along her skin and to her hips, her thighs, her ribs, her breasts — everything. Her limbs began to feel numb in the best way as that promise of overwhelming euphoria built up and up and up. She stared into her boyfriend's eyes, but keeping her own open was growing more and more difficult.

"That's right.” Jack encouraged. "Come on, baby. Let me see you cum while you've got my cock in your mouth. Let me see how fucking much you love being my pretty little whore."

Jack groaned as she cried out uncontrollably, an unintelligible noise erupting from her as her pussy clenched around her fingers and her body spasmed, bursting with the sudden release of ecstasy. Try as she might, Y/N couldn't keep her eyes open, squeezing them shut as every other muscle in her body tightened in a desperate attempt to contain the feelings rippling and rolling through her.

Once the final burst of pleasure faded and she could open her eyes again, Y/N looked up at him, aware her lips were still wrapped around his cock and her hand was still between her legs, giving him her silent go-ahead. But he didn't. A satisfied smirk made the corner of his mouth flick up, then he slowly pulled her head back until she let his still-unspent cock fall from her lips. She took a deep breath once it had, looking up at him.

"You seem a little trapped under there.” Jack said conversationally.

"A little.” Y/N said.

"I'll let you out, but once I do, I'm going to throw you across the seat and fuck you until you can't walk properly."

That recently doused fire in her core flared up again, instantly burning up any satisfaction and replacing it with more need. "Okay.” She said in a tiny voice.

Jack’s lower lip curled into his mouth. "So if you need a break to recover, now's the time to take it. Because I won't be letting up until I cum all over you, baby.”

"I don't need a break."

He flicked up one eyebrow. "No?"

Y/N sat back as much as she could, looking up at him defiantly. "I want you to fuck me now, Jack."

He smirked, then half-shrugged before throwing the car door open. Cold air rushed into the vehicle, raising trails of goosebumps along her exposed skin. Tragically, he pulled up his boxers and sweats, covering his beautiful, throbbing erection before working his right leg past her and getting out.

Shivering, Y/N ran a hand across her face and chin, but before she could ease herself out of the wheel well, Jack grabbed her and pulled her partway out of the car before shoving her up onto the driver's seat, twisting her so her legs were hanging out the open door.

"What are you doing?” Y/N asked, but he tugged her forward, stepping between her legs and kissing her as he grabbed one breast in each hand and squeezed.

She moaned as he gripped her, his fingers digging into the sensitive flesh just hard enough to be firm, but not painfully uncomfortable. She lifted her arms to his shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt as he crushed his mouth against hers.

"What am I gonna do with you, baby?" Jack murmured. "You sit there and tell me you want me to fuck you, that you want me to save up all my anger when people fuck with me so I can use it to destroy that perfect little pussy I love so much, all these goddamn obscene words coming out of this sweet mouth of yours. You know what I saw just now?"

Jack tightened his hands on her breasts again and she gasped. "No.” Y/N said.

"I saw my pretty girlfriend get shoved down on her knees, still wearing that fucking ruffled skirt with her tits spilling out of a bra. I saw her finger herself while I made her choke on my cock." Jack let go of her left breast, just to bring his hand up to her chin and cup it, holding her face hard so she couldn't pull away from him. "I've been trying so hard to be the nice, sweet boyfriend I thought you deserved, but you don't want that, do you? You want someone who will fuck you as dirty as he fights."

"Yes.” Y/N moaned, and he sank his teeth into her bottom lip. She let out a soft wail and he did it again, then sucked on the tender spot he'd bitten as he let go of her chin and wrapped both arms around her so he could unclasp her bra. It fell away from her chest and she wriggled her arms out of it, letting it fall to the ground beside the Range Rover.

Jack dipped his head and shoved his face between her breasts. From there he used his tongue to guide him to her nipple, tugging on it with his teeth. She cried out as he nibbled on it, then made a low mewling sound as he soothed it by circling the stiff nub with his tongue.

He repeated the action on her other breast, cupping the first one in his hand so he could feel the hardness of her nipple pressing into his palm. Once he'd let her nipple fall from his teeth, a pleasant stinging radiating from the sensitive buds across her entire chest, Jack straightened back up and shoved his hand between her legs as he kissed her again.

"Listen to me.” Jack demanded. "When I'm done kissing you, you're going to turn around and get on your hands and knees with your sweet ass on display for anyone out there to see while you wait for me."

Y/N gulped, even though both of them knew very well that there was hardly any chance of there being a single living soul in the field behind them. "Okay."

"Good girl.” Jack breathed, and a shiver that had nothing to do with the cool outdoor air ran through her. "You keep your eyes looking straight forward, understand? All I want to see is your ass hanging out the door of my car. No peeking."

"I won't peek.” She promised.

Y/N wasted no time doing what he asked, clambering back into the car and balancing her knees on the edge of the driver's seat and her forearms on the edge of the passenger seat, thankful that the center console was below the seat level so she didn't have to contort around it. Her breasts hung below her and cold air tickled up the back of her thighs, making the heat of her pussy seem almost uncomfortably warm.

Jack opened the trunk and grabbed his hockey bag, rooting through it for a moment before grabbing something and slamming the door closed. She almost turned her head, but he'd said not to, so she kept looking forward and waited with electrified anticipation for him to move back behind her. But he didn't.

Restlessly, Y/N tapped her fingers on the passenger seat, shivering again as more goosebumps raised on her arms. A soft breeze stirred the fabric of her skirt, blowing it up slightly. Not that it was covering much; she knew her panties were exposed, and not just her panties, but the soaked spot in the middle of them betraying her arousal.

When she couldn't take it anymore, Y/N shifted again, letting her hip lean against the backrest so she could twist in place and look over her shoulder. Jack was standing a few feet behind her, his arms folded across his chest. When their eyes met, he raised his eyebrows.

"What'd I say?" He asked, his voice low.

Heat rising on her face, she turned back around quickly, but it wasn't enough.

"Oh, baby.” Jack said, and now she could hear him walking towards her. "I asked you a question."

"You said eyes looking straight forward.” Y/N replied in a quick, high-pitched voice.

"And what did I just see?"

"I didn't know where you went."

Warm fingers were suddenly circling her ankles and a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold overtook her. His hands slid up her calves, teasing her chilled skin.

"I went to get a condom so I can give my girlfriend the fucking she's been begging for.” Jack said in a low voice. "And I came back to see her sexy ass up in the air, so I was taking a moment to admire it when she decided she didn't want to listen to me anymore."

"Please, Jack.” She whimpered quietly.

"And then I asked her a question and she didn't give me a direct answer. What happened to my good girl, baby?"

"I..." Y/N breathed. "I, um...”

"I think someone needs to see what happens when she doesn't listen to me, don't you?"

Jack’s fingers moved up her thighs and under her skirt, caressing her ass as she realized he'd very intentionally made her turn around. Her breath caught in her throat as he flipped the fabric of her skirt up and traced his fingers along her covered ass crack.

"I asked you a question, baby.” He said.

"Yes.” Y/N said. "Show me what happens."

Jack laughed, then made her jump when suddenly there was a sharp pinch on one of her cheeks and a warm breath soothing it. She’d had no idea he was such a biter, but damn if she didn't fucking love it.

"You know how silly you sounded when you said you wanted me to slap your ass like I did with my teammates?" He teased. "That's just stupid guy stuff. I'd never slap your ass like that."

His hands were suddenly on her hips and he pulled her backwards. She yelped, catching herself as he slid her down so her stomach was resting on the seat. After a harrowing moment, her feet found the running boards so she propped herself up more easily.

Jack pushed her skirt up again, then hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties and tugged them down just past her ass. He leaned in and hunched over her body so the next time he spoke, his voice was in her ear.

"No, your ass is gonna be spanked properly." His covered erection pressed against her, hard as ever against her exposed skin. "Good and hard, like I fucking mean it. You want that, baby?"

"Uh-huh.” Y/N said.

"Of course you do."

Jack straightened up, tracing his hands down her bare back and caressing her ass again. The only indication he was about to hit her was that his touch disappeared; Y/N inhaled sharply and tensed, and a moment later his hand struck her ass cheek. It was more startling than anything.

She jumped forward slightly, but the sting of pain she’d expected wasn't present. Pursing her lips, she waited, anticipating another one, but he just traced his fingers along her ass again.

"Are you okay?" Jack asked.

Y/N turned again, looking over her shoulder at him with wide eyes. "I thought you said you were gonna spank me like you meant it."

His eyebrow flicked up, then he shrugged and slowly shook his head. "You asked for it.” Jack said, and she didn't even have time to turn back around before he brought his hand down on her ass again.

A loud crack echoed around them and she jolted forward, her stomach hitting the seat as a searing sting radiated from the spot he'd slapped. Y/N yelped, stunned at the suddenness of the pain on her ass and the rush of adrenaline that seemed to radiate from her pussy, and seconds later Jack’s fingers were soothing the burning spot on her ass cheek.

"Did that feel like I meant it?" He asked, his voice betraying his concern.

"Maybe.” Y/N gasped. "You should probably do it again, just to be sure."

His hand paused its soothing motions, a brief hesitation that she worried meant he was going to stop, that he thought he'd taken it too far. Then, a low, throaty chuckle was her only warning as he drew his hand back. A second powerful snap resonated and she cried out again.

"There.” Jack said, stroking the sore spot he'd just left on her other ass cheek as her body quivered beneath him. "A matching pair of handprints on this perfect ass of yours."

"One more?" Y/N asked breathlessly.

Jack made a soft noise and she tensed when his hand moved away, but it was replaced a moment later by the incredibly intimate feeling of his lips kissing the spot he'd just struck, his breath oddly soothing against what she was sure was reddened skin.

"Nice try, baby.” Jack said. "It's my turn to get what I want."

"And what's that?"

His lips moved away from her ass as he straightened up. Jack must have put the condom on while she was staring straight forward like she was supposed to. Maybe he'd even intended to walk up and enter her wordlessly, fucking her hard and fast and deep without even a warning that he was about to do it, before she’d felt the need to twist around and see where he was. She didn't know, but it didn't matter.

"I'm going to fuck you until you're screaming.” Jack answered, punctuating the sentence by grabbing her hips and shoving his cock inside her.

Jack didn't so much as hesitate before pulling back before slamming himself forward, so deep inside her that his hips pressed against the blazing handprints on her ass cheeks. Y/N cried out again, though it must have been obvious that it was a cry of ecstasy because he didn't pause before digging his fingertips into her hips so hard that she was sure they would bruise and plunging inside of her again.

Y/N’s nails dug into the seat of the car, bracing herself as Jack fucked her mercilessly. The sound of his hips hitting her ass filled the car, but she could barely hear it over the sound of her own heart and the noises being pushed from her mouth by the sheer force of his cock.

Hunched over her, Jack grabbed one of her breasts, which was swinging with the force of his thrusts. Squeezing, he groaned and kissed a spot on her back, just between her shoulder blades.

"Fuck, Y/N.” Jack gasped. "You feel so good."

"So do you.” She tried to say, but he used his grip on her to pull her up slightly so he could slide his other hand between her legs.

Y/N balanced herself with one hand on the steering wheel and the other against the backrest of the seat, but nearly the entirety of her weight was held up by Jack’s hands as he fucked her, fondled her, and fingered her. Stars burst in her eyes and the world around her flickered in and out; cold air and surrounding trees and the wide field behind her ceased to exist.

All that mattered was his cock and his hands and the way he felt inside her, the way his body kept slamming into hers and the overwhelming pleasure from the sensations he was giving her. It must have been obvious that she was about to cum because Jack quietly urged her on, rubbing her clit harder as he kept his pace steady and strong.

"Cum on this cock, baby.” Jack ordered. "Show me why I should come home and fuck you like this every week instead of losing it on some other bastard. Be a good girl for me. Prove to me you deserve to be fucked like this."

Y/N came apart in his arms, screaming just like he'd said she would. Her body shook, convulsing as orgasmic waves took over her, clouding her vision and her mind and turning her into nothing but a bundle of nerve endings that were firing over and over and over again. Just when she thought it would never stop, that she’d be stuck in that tortuous moment of delirious intensity, it slowly faded, and she fell heavy and limp in Jack’s arms.

Buried deep inside her, he paused just long enough to gently put her back onto the driver's seat, taking his arms back from under her before gripping her hips again. Jack started fucking her in that selfish way she was all too happy to oblige, exhilarated by the way he took his pleasure from her body.

When his breathing came faster, she knew he was close. Moments later, his cock was throbbing, and ropes of hot cum were painting her ass and lower back, though the rest of it got caught in the skirt that was still bunched around her waist.

"Holy shit.” Jack groaned, his voice staggered as he finished, his breath coming in hard gasps. For a few heartbeats, that was all she heard: his breath and hers, the car full of the scent of sex and cum, her body still in a hazy glow of satisfaction.

Then, Jack swore, lifting himself off her. “Are you okay?" He asked. "Fuck, Y/N, I’m so sorry.”

"Don't ruin this with an apology.” She said. "I'm fine. I’m more than fine. That was amazing."

Jack hesitated, then laughed awkwardly. "Okay, good. Because I was gonna... your ass looks so fucking hot, all red like that and covered with cum. But I should... let me grab you a shirt or something.”

"Don't worry about it." Y/N pushed back, balancing on the running board as she shimmied her panties back up and then flipped her skirt back down over them before stepping down and turning to face him. "It's all washable."

Jack looked at her, a crease on his forehead betraying his concern as he lifted a hand to her cheek and tilted her head up. His eyes darted as he took in her face and expression. Then, apparently satisfied that she was as okay as she said she was, he relaxed and stooped down to kiss her.

"Will you come to my next game?" Jack murmured. "After my suspension's done?"

"Depends.” Y/N said, kissing him back. "Are you gonna punch a guy in the face again?"

"Baby, if all I have to do to fuck you like this again is not punch a guy in the face, I'm the luckiest guy alive. I'd punch myself in the face to do this all over again."

"No punching anyone in the face.” She laughed as he wrapped his arms around her, enveloping her still-naked torso in warmth. "Yes, I'll come to your game, and if you don't act like an asshole, we can do this all over again."

"You're amazing.” Jack murmured. "Fucking amazing. I'm gonna take you home and run you a bath. Then, I’m gonna wash your hair for you and give you a massage and then kiss you all over and eat your pussy for hours." He kissed her again, then let go and bent over so he could pick up her bra for her before tracking down her shirt that had somehow ended up in the backseat of the car.

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[radiant-reid]

If your up to this, could you write a smut where reader picks up Reid from prison and he's awfully quiet (she doesn't know he's horny as soon as he sees her) and so when they get home the first thing he does is fuck her 🤭

I had a dream about this and I just wanted to see someone write it lmao.

no bc he's so pretty

You're handling him like he's glass, one breath away from shattering.

He hates it, but it's predictable. He's just been through something horrible, so of course, the one person who loves him most in the world would be gentle and supportive.

The problem is Spencer wants to be rough. In his three months locked in prison, he didn't see any of his usual stress relief- you.

"Are you..." You hesitate about what to add. No matter what word you said, the answer was obvious. He wasn't fine or okay or good.

"Glad to be out." He answers, reaching out to hold your hand.

You've been hesitant to touch him, unsure if it might trigger something in him, which is why you didn't during the drive. You were hesitant to talk as well, sure that he might need silence.

He needs you. So badly.

The inside of the apartment looks the same. The mug he had last used before he went to Mexico was still sitting on the coffee table.

You notice him fixating on it. "Sorry, I know you hate the mess." You explain. "I just... I couldn't-" Once you found out he wouldn't be coming home for a while, you were paralyzed, unable to touch anything of his.

"It's okay." He assures you, gliding his hand across your back. God, you missed him. Everything about him, but especially how he feels. Then he turns to look at you. "I want you." He says.

"I didn't want to be overwhelming, but I was thinking we could get Thai takeout, and I made cheesecake for dessert." You say, walking over to the kitchen. His eyes follow you, tracing the outline of your body that is so deep in his brain.

It wasn't what he meant, but he didn't expect you to figure he wanted sex first thing. He walks closer to you, grabbing your hips and pinning you to the bench.

You squeal at the sudden movement as a natural reaction, but it lights a fire inside you instantly. "Spence." You whimper.

"I want you, Y/n." He repeats, dipping his head to breathe against your neck. It's hot on your skin, leaving a wake of goosebumps. "I need you."

You roll your hips back into his. "Have me then." You whisper to him, turning your face so his nose brushes against your cheek. "Right here."

"Fuck." He groans. There's no time to waste. He hasn't been inside you in so long. "It's been so fucking long." He tells you as he quickly unbuttons your pants, pulling them down your thighs.

You help him by unbuttoning your shirt while he works on his pants. There's less foreplay than usual, just both of you stripping as quickly as you can.

"Wait, wait, wait," Spencer stops you as you lean forward.

You stop, turning to look at him. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing." He assures you, shaking his head. His eyes soften, emotion taking over his features. "Sorry, I just wanted to kiss you." He says.

You can sense the nervousness in his tone, like he's worried you'll say no. "Baby." You coo, cupping his cheek. He's yet to shave, facial hair brushing against your skin. "You can kiss me whenever you like."

In contrast to how quick getting naked has been, he kisses you slowly, tentatively. "Thank you."

"I love you, sweet boy." You remind him, running your fingers through his hair.

"I love you more." He replies.

You peck his lips once more before he turns you around, and his fingers press through your folds, spreading you open and letting the slick sounds of how wet you are echo through the room.

He's checking that you're warmed up enough, not wanting to hurt you even if he needs to get his frustration out. When you feel the head of his cock against you, you spread your legs further apart, and Spencer pushes fully inside you in one swift moment, knocking the air out of your lungs.

"Fuck, Spencer." You moan, gripping the edge of the countertop.

"I know, I know." He agrees, kissing your neck. "So good." His teeth sink into your skin, and there is no doubt going to be a trail of marks. You don't care. Anything for people to know you're his. You're sure there will be bruises on your hips as well from how hard he's pounding you into the bench.

He doesn't take it slow, thrusting in and out of you with speed and force. You roll your hips back against his each time, trying to take as much of him in as you can.

"You're so deep in me." You tell him, feeling it all the way inside your stomach.

One of his hands moves off your hips, pressing your lower stomach where there's an outline of his cock. "Did you touch yourself while I was gone?" He growls lowly into your ear.

"Mhm." You admit in a whimper.

"Show me." He demands.

You move one of your hands off the countertop and move it to your clit, circling it with some urgency.

"Tell me how good it feels," Spencer instructs.

That low, gravelly tone has you clenching around him as you stutter out an answer. "Good. So fucking good, Spencer. Please don't stop."

"I won't." He promises, snapping his hips against yours. "Not until you're coming around me."

"I'm so close." You inform him, but from the increasingly loud moans and whimpers, he knows you're almost there.

"Come for me, baby." He begs. "Please."

You moan louder as you cum around him. "Fuck, Spence!"

He's there just a second later, pumping you full of cum before he rests his forehead on the back of your head while you both come down from your highs.

He pulls out of you gently, kissing your skin, and you turn around to look at him. "Hi." You say. "You doing okay?"

He nods softly as he looks at you, despite the fact you're completely undressed. "Yeah. I just really needed that."

"You can have it whenever you want." You promise, knowing there are likely to be more times when the stress is overwhelming. "I'm so glad you're home and safe."

"Me too." He agrees.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

best friends dad part three

words: 900

warnings: 18+ only!, extreme age gap, cheating, semi public sex?, kind of caught, p in v sex, unprotected sex, daddy kink

part one / part two / part three

“what were you doing in there again?” your friend stares at you, like she knows the truth but her mind won't let her accept it.

“in where?” you question, looking at your nails like her probing doesn't bother you, like it isn't clear of her suspicion growing, asking about the incident that happened last week.

“in the bathroom. with my dad.” she clarifies.

“oh, i told you already, didn't i?” you scrunch your brows together, like she's the weird one for asking. “i got a splinter in my foot and he was helping get it out.”

you're not sure it's the best story, but it's the first one you came up with when she caught you, rafes cum flooding inside you despite his daughter just feet away, separated by a thin wooden door.

“okay.” she mumbles. 

you know despite her questions that she wouldn't dare accuse you or flat out ask if you're fucking her father. you've been through too much together, and she's far too naive.

it's why you're not worried about slipping out of her room when she falls asleep that night, sharing a bed like you always do for your sleepovers.

hallway. you message rafe. you remember the first time you got his number, it was middle school softball season. you would occasionally text him asking for rides home when he picked up his daughter.

rafe is out of his room in a second, a panicked look on his face.

“she could have been awake.” he whispers, eyes wide.

“but she wasn't.” you roll your eyes, not sure what the dramatics are about when his wife didn't see the text.

“what do you want? i told you we can't keep doing this, we almost got caught.”

“i want you to fuck me.” you pull your pajama shorts down your legs, showing rafe that you're wearing nothing underneath. “right here in this hallway.”

“god, this is so fucking wrong.” rafe shakes his head, voice still a whisper as he pulls his cock out from his pants, not disrobing as much as you out of fear of getting caught.

“you say that every time.” you roll your eyes. “yet still cum inside me.”

“shut up.” rafe grunts, pushing you against the wall, your best friends room on the other side, a fact rafe knows too well as he tries his best to be quiet.

rafe picks you up easily, your legs wrapping around his waist as his already hard cock lines up with your entrance. truth is, he is constantly half hard when he knows you're over, just waiting for you to entice him into sex.

“when was the last time you fucked someone like this, huh?” you smirk as rafe pushes inside of you, your walls being stretched by his length.

“was it when your wife was my age?” you ask. truth is, you don't even know when rafe and his wife met and if it was that young, but you love the way he fucks you faster every time you bring up his marriage.

“your pussy-” rafe grunts out, struggling to keep himself quiet. “your pussy is so fucking good.”

“mhm.” you nod. “and your cock is perfect, daddy. love having you inside me.”

rafe shoves his head into your shoulder to hold back his moans as his hips rock into yours, your nails pressing into his back over his shirt, hoping you leave marks he has to stammer to explain to his wife.

you wonder what it would take for them to divorce. what his wife's reaction would be if she caught you in the act. would it be enough to break up the family?

“touch my clit.” you command. rafe quickly listens, moving his hands from holding your hips up to wrapping one around your waist, the other moving between your legs, rubbing his thumb over your clit.

“that's so good, daddy. gonna cum for me?”

“yeah, close.” rafe warns, his cock pulsing inside of you.

“good.” you smile. “cum inside me. fill up my tight young pussy.”

rafe presses his mouth further into your skin as he moans, cum pumping inside of you in a steady stream, triggering your own orgasm as his warmth spreads, not as quiet with your moans as his thumb continues to stroke your clit through your high.

“fucking hell, that was too risky.” rafe shakes his head. “we can't keep fucking like this.”

“you'll keep coming for me every time i call. you're mine.” you tell rafe as he slowly lowers you, making sure you don't wobble as he sets your feet back firmly on the floor.

“im yours.” rafe says sadly, tucking his cock back into his pants while you pull your shorts back on, knowing you're about to ruin them with cum.

“now give me a kiss goodnight, daddy.” you pucker your lips, rafe pressing a chaste kiss against them. you don't wait to see him go back into his shared bedroom with his wife as you sneak back into his daughters room.

as you lay down back next to her in bed, your eyes adjust to the low light, suddenly haunting your movements when you realize she's awake and staring at you, a hurt look in her eyes.

she knows.

you continue your actions, letting out a sigh of relief when she doesn't say anything. doesn't confess. doesn't get mad, simply rolls over so her back is to you.

you smirk to yourself. she may know, but she won't tell.

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[samandcolbyownme]

Summary: anon request - "Hi can u do one like should've stayed home but with Sam please and can u make it so they end up fighting about leaving and not wanting to leave and so the car ride home is silent leaving Colby feeling awkward until they get home then they make up after a little bit more arguing please please pleas thank u."

Warning: This one shot will get dark at parts and contain the reader being targeted by the spirits and some actions include; being touched, pushed, choked, scratched, spoken to, and other things some readers might find a bit creepy. There will also be mentions of murder and such at the place of exploration and other bad things some readers may be triggered by and there will be a short SMUT scene at the end.

I also kinda changed around the ending a little bit, hope you don't mind!

Word count: 8.1K

"What's up guys. It's Sam and Colby."

You stand off to the side, watching as they do their intro, "Today." Sam presses his hands together and leans in, "We are at the Agatha Asylum, or better known as the worst place to be sent if you were already having a bad day."

"It's said that people who had, or thought to have had any kind of mental illness were sent here for-" Colby puts air quotes, "-help.. and they were punished by being chained to walls, stuck in cages, beaten, and most even faced death."

"We are here today to see if we can get some answers as to why the person in charge, John Agatha, would do something like this." Sam glances over at you, "We also have with us a very special guest, y/n."

You walk over, standing in between Sam and Colby and hold your hand up, "I don't know why I'm here. I hate asylums."

"You volunteered to handcuff yourself to the wall, remember?" Colby jokes and looks at you. You raise your eyebrows, "The fuck I did."

"Anyway." Sam tries not to laugh, "We are currently waiting on the owner of this asylum to get here so we can get a tour and get a feel for what we will be dealing with.." Sam looks over at the road, "I think that's them now."

A car pulls up and parks, stepping out is a man and women.

"Are you Mark and Cindy?" Colby asks walking over and the man nods, "Yes, are you Sam and Colby?" Sam holds his hand up, "I'm Sam, this is my girlfriend y/n and that's Colby."

You all say hello and they jump right into it, "So.." Cindy starts out, "This is Agatha Asylum." She motions towards the building behind the fence, "This is to keep anyone out, since we're trying to get it ready to present to the public, we have it blocked off so people don't get in without us knowing. Or we try to at least."

"Have people gotten in?" Colby asks and Mark nod, "Oh yeah. We eventually set up security cameras around the perimeter. The day we noticed a broken window and spray paint lids, actually."

"What kind of things happened here exactly?" Sam asks handing the camera to Colby.

Cindy blows air, "Oh gosh, anything from restraining the patients inhumanly to keeping them locked in cages that were maybe, if they were lucky, a little bigger than themselves."

You raise your eyebrows, "What the hell?"

Mark nods, "most of the women who came in were attacked by the staff if you know what I mean so I'm sure the women are angry. I mean, hell I would be too if I was stuck here."

"Have you guys had any thing happen to you?" Colby asks, "Like personally or maybe to someone you know that has come here."

Mark nods, "Yeah, I've had my tools messed with, moved. Cindy has been pushed down the steps, and one of my guys who are working with me on getting this ready, was pushed from his ladder."

"Pushed off a lad- oh shit." Sam shakes his head, "Is there anything we need to know before going in there? Like maybe who to try and get in contact with or what not to ask?"

"John Agatha. He's the one who ran this place. Many people have tried to contact him but they never got any real answers as to why." Cindy says, "Just make your intentions known, I know some of the spirits in there can get pretty mean, so just keep reminding them that you mean no harm."

"Has anyone stayed a full night here?" You ask and they laugh, "No."

"No?" Colby asks raising his eyebrows, "Looks like we have a challenge on our hands, guys." He looks over at you and Sam and Sam shakes his head, "I'm already shitting my pants, dude."

"You all will by the time it gets dark. It's a pretty active place during the day, don't get me wrong, but not only me, but from other groups that came through as well, said it's gets worse at night." Mark sighs, "So. Who's ready for the tour?"

"You guys have fun, I'm going home." Colby pretends to walk away before turning back around, "No, let's go before I really do change my mind."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"So this hallway leads you to where most of the women were held.." Cindy points to the right and then to the left, "Men were held that way."

"Is there any specific areas as to where the most activity happens?" Sam asks laying his hand on your back as he steps around you, "Where were the cages kept exactly?"

"This whole place, honestly. You're bound to get activity anywhere in here and there were at least two cages per room."

"Per room?" You raise your eyebrows, "How many were kept in a room at one time?"

"Two but some held up to four, depending on many were here and came in and what not." Mark says looking around. He stares down the hallway and Sam turns the camera, "Did you see something?"

"A shadow moved across then end of that hallway there." He points, "No taller than you." He motions to Colby and Colby shrugs, "Sorry. I'm just that fast."

He starts pretending to Sonic run in place. You laugh and shake your head, "You can't be serious at all can you?" He shakes his head, "Not when I'm scared shitless, no."

Mark and Cindy laugh and start walking down the hall way. They explain each room briefly, basically what it was used for until you finally reach an old wooden door that's laying on the floor.

"This is where they kept, what they called, the worst of the worst." Mark lifts the door, revealing a steep staircase, "Watch your step as you come down."

"This is a really odd basement entrance." Sam says handing the camera to Colby, "What the hell."

Mark and Cindy go down first, followed by Sam then you. He helps you down, coaching you through the steps until you reach the bottom.

"What you're not going to help me?" Colby asks looking over his shoulder at Sam. All of you start baby talking to Colby coaching him down the steps and he stands there with his lips pressed together, "Should have never said anything."

Sam takes the camera, making sure Colby is good before turning around, "What is up with freaking jail cells in the basements of these places?"

"Literally." You mumble as you wrap your arms around yourself, "It's so cold down here. Did they have any sort of heat at the time of this place being open?"

Mark shakes his head, "They had a fireplace over there but as you can see it got filled from the outside in so who knows when that happened."

There's a loud thud from upstairs and you jump, "the fuck?"

Colby points, "That sounded like the door lifted up and dropped back down." Sam nods, "Yeah yeah yeah."

"Very well could have been. Doors opening on their own is very common around here." Cindy says, "Especially the third floor, that's where lots of the killings happened."

"Why the third floor?" Colby asks, "Why not down here?"

"The patients ended up dying all over the place, but if they were ordered to be put out by John, they would drag them up the stairs, kill them then dump their bodies out of the back window, into what was said to be a big wagon and then taken about half a mile away and they would just burn them and then just cover the hole with dirt."

"That answers my question about what they do with the bodies." Sam cringes, "I can't even imagine that."

"The hauntings and activity started a year or two after the patients first started to die. So if you can, try to contact.. oh shit. Was was his name?" Cindy looks at Mark and he shakes his head, "Oh, you mean Warren Summers?"

She nods, "Yes! He was reported to be the first to die, they ruled his death an accident but we all know it wasn't."

"Well definitely try to contact him, find out some answers." Colby nods and mark motions, "Alright, I need to get out of here, this spot makes me feel sick."

"Whoa really?" Sam looks at Colby, "Do you feel okay?" Colby nods and Sam looks at you, "Do you feel alright?"

You nod your head, "I mean, I feel like there's pressure on my chest, but it's not like, oh my god I can't breathe, kinda pressure."

"Let's get out of here and we'll just start in the main lobby." Sam says as he walks you over to the stairs. You go up first, followed by Sam and he turns around, "Come on, Colby." His voice is high pitched, "You can do it!"

Colby glares up at him from mid stairs and shakes his head as he laughs, "Thanks buddy. I needed that."

Mark and Cindy make their way up and she points to you, "Are you sure they're the ones not together?"

You sigh and shrug, "Sometimes I feel like I'm in a competition." You laugh and look over at Colby who does the, I'm watching you, motion.

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Alright, guys. We have the REM pod here, and we're going to start out easy tonight by starting in the lobby." Sam walks over to the desk, setting the pod down, "It was said that there was a receptionist here who just so happened to be John's wife, Mabel, so she had to known everything you'd think."

"Didn't mark say that she disappeared randomly one day and no one really looked for her?" You ask looking at Sam, and he nods, "Yeah yeah yeah, maybe she didn't know what was going on and when she started to find out he silenced her?"

"John Agatha was a very wealthy man at the time of his death, so it very well could be or he offed her because she knew he had money?" Colby shrugs, "I mean, there's really only one way to find out."

Colby leans forward, switching on the pod and testing it a few times before stepping back, "Ladies first." He smirks towards you and you roll your eyes playfully, "Okay. Hello, my name is y/n. I mean no harm, I'm just here to ask you a few questions if that's okay."

The pod lights up and you straight up slightly, "If it's okay that I ask, can you touch that little light for me again?"

It lights up and you look between Sam and Colby, "Okay." You look back, "Thank you. Am I speaking to the wife of John Agatha? Mabel. If so touch that light for me again."

A few seconds go by before the light goes off, "Thank you, Mabel."

Sam hands the camera to Colby, "Hello, Mabel, I'm Sam. I come with peace and the possibility of finding out what happened here. I'd like to ask you something too if that's okay."

The pod lights up and Sam takes a deep breath, "Did your husband.. end your life?"

Right after the pod lights up, it stops and there's a loud crash from slightly far away.

You all jump, yelling out cuss words. You lean around Sam the look down the hallway, "What the hell was that?"

"It sounded like something big fell, like you know those big metal carts the food trays are served on? It sounded like one of those and everything in it just falling out." Colby moves forward, "Should we go check it out?"

The rem pod lights up three times in a row and you all look back at it before looking at each other.

"My name is Colby, I mean no harm to you or anyone else here. Was that a warning? Should we not go look?" Colby asks and it lights up one time quickly, "Make that go off for me if that was a yes."

Instantly turns on.

"Fuck, okay." Colby turns to Sam, "What do we do?"

Sam shakes his head, "If we're being told not to go there, we shouldn't."

"That hasn't stopped us before." Colby chuckles slightly, "Y/n."

You're zoned out on the dark hallway where the sound came from, you know that Colby has the camera on you, but you can't acknowledge it.

You feel Sam's hand on you, pulling you back as your body is trying to go forward, "Hey, hey. Y/n. Look at me." Sam steps in front of you, breaking your stare and you shake your head slightly.

He looks up at Colby and back to you, "What just happened? Talk to me." Sam lays his hands on your cheeks and keeps your head straight, "Hey."

"I felt something calling me towards where the sound came from." You lay your hand on Sam's bicep, "It was weird."

"What the fuck." Sam whispers as he looks back up at Colby and he shrugs, "Okay, we'll just go to the left wing, give whatever that is, time to do whatever it needs to do."

Sam pulls you with him, as you still felt drawn.

"So something just took over y/n pretty much." Colby explains, "Y/n, what happened?" He points the camera on you and you laugh slightly, "Um, I don't really know.. like you know how when you're so tired you just zone out?"

They nod and you sigh, "It was like that, but I swear there was a figure standing there, watching us and I was just having some sort of stare down with him."

"You started walking towards it, then. Like what happened with that?" Colby follows up, "Like did it say anything?"

You shake your head, "I knew you had the camera on me, and I knew Sam was pulling me back, but no. Nothing was said, it just stood there watching us and I just felt like I needed to go there."

"John Agatha?" Sam whispers, "Could it- do you think it was him?" You shrug, "Maybe? I don't know, it was the same figure Mark saw I think.. he was really no taller than Colby."

"It had to be, maybe he's trying to tell us to get out or maybe.. with a sliver of luck, he wants to explain himself." Colby shakes his head, "I don't know, let's just avoid that area until we cover this side."

Colby grabs the pod, switching it off as he turns back towards you and Sam, "Are you okay like do you feel alright?"

You nod, even though you feel like you could puke, "Yeah, yeah I'm good."

Sam rubs your arm, "You sure?"

You nod again, "Yes, Sam. I'm sure."

He could tell something was off, but he trusted you. He knew you'd stop if you really couldn't handle it.

"Where to next?" You ask as you take his hand into yours. Sam squeezes your hand and points, "I figured we could go into the day room, that's where Paul Yellow allegedly killed his roommate."

"These two men specifically had beef with each other.." Colby starts out as he hands the camera to Sam who lets go of your hand to take it, "..it was said that they would always be stealing from each other and would always be trying to get one another in trouble, but no one would admit to it, so the staff basically let them handle it themselves and that's when Paul came into the day room with a hammer that he somehow found, and bludgeoned Frank to death."

"Yeah in front of everyone but the staff were basically the only, " sam turns the camera around to him, putting at quotes, "Sane ones here, so they covered it up basically by saying that Frank fell and that was that."

"Wasn't Paul taken by the staff and tortured?" You ask as you look over at Sam. He nods, "Pretty much, yes."

As Sam and Colby explain what you guys were going to do next, you walked over to the window, looking out into the old courtyard.

"Come over here."

You turn around, walking over to Sam, "What?" He looks at you confused, "What?" You look between him and Colby, "Didn't you just tell me to come over here?"

Sam looks up at Colby and back down to you, "No I was getting the EMF ready."

You motion towards the window, "I swear to god, you said, come over here, when I was standing at the window."

Colby's eyes go wide, "He didn't say that." He shakes his head, "Oh fuck."

"So if you didn't sa-"

The sound of, what you think, is a metal trash can sliding across the floor makes you stop talking. It's quick, but you all hear it.

"Something just got drug or pushed across the floor." Sam whispers, "Fuck, fuck, okay. Let's get this thing going.." he turns on the EMF and you all step back.

"I'm y/n. I come in peace, I just want to ask a few questions. Paul Yellow, did you tell me to come over here?" You bite down on your cheek, waiting for the device to give you an answer.

"Were you over by the window with me?" You ask and it lights up green, "was it Paul?"

It lights up red.

"Are we talking to Frank?" Colby asks and it lights up green, "Did Paul kill you?"

Lights up red.

"Was it someone else?" Sam asks trying to keep the camera still and he looks over at you when it lights up green.

"Who else co-" you stop, "Was it one of the staff, Frank?"

Instant green.

"One of the staff did it then blamed Paul?" Colby looks shocked and he jumps slightly as it lights up green, "Holy shit, dude."

"I wonder if they've had anyone figure this out." Sam asks and he turns around, "Did you hear that?" You lean around to look, listening for the sound. Sam looks back, "It sounded like someone was walking and dragging their hand along the wall."

The sound Sam explained happened again and you look up at him, "That?" Sam nods, "Exactly that."

"Something is following us." Colby says quietly, "It has to be."

The EMF lights up green and you all look at each other, "Is it John Agatha?" You glance back at the EMF, "All you need to do is-"

It lights up green and you sigh, "Thank you." A thump against the wall makes you jump, "I don't think he likes being told what to do." You joke which makes Colby laugh, Sam just shakes his head.

"You good, bro?" Colby pushes his arm and looks at him. Sam smiles slightly, "Yeah, no I'm good."

You find yourself being pulled into that stare again, this time it's in the corner of the day room, but nothing is there.

"Colby. Colby." Sam says as he grabs you by the waist. You try to pull away from him, but he wraps his arm around you, "Y/n. Snap out of it, come on."

You lean back into him, "There's something over there."

"You aren't going over there alone." He fights back as he switches his flash light on, revealing just the ripped wallpaper, "See. Nothing."

"There was." You turn around, "he was watching us."

"Who? John?" Colby asks and the EMF lights up green, "Maybe we should try the-" the loud crashing sound makes him stop talking instantly.

"You don't think people got in here do you?" Sam tightens his grip on your waist, "We tweeted about coming here.. so like.."

"They have cameras all around the perimeter they said, and I'm sure they would have told us if they saw something." Sam says as he pulls his phone out, "Let me call Mark, see if he can tell me if there was anything outside."

As Sam calls mark, you close your eyes, resting your head back on his shoulder. Colby walks up, squeezing your arm, "You still with us?"

You open your eyes, nodding, "Yeah I just got really dizzy."

Sam looks down at you and puts the phone on speaker, "There was nothing outside?"

"Not since you went back inside." Mark says on the other end of the phone, "If you do decide to leave just make sure you lock the gate and we can get the key tomorrow."

"Alright, yeah. We'll let you know." Sam says and they end the call, "So it's just us in here." He looks down at you, "Are you okay?"

You nod and stand up, "Yeah, I'm good."

"You're not dizzy anymore?" He brushes hair from your face and you shake your head, "No I'm good."

"I'm thinking we move from here and we go to the third floor." Colby walks over and Sam stops you from following him, "We can leave if this is too much."

"Sam. I'm fine. I promise."

"I don't like the way you just zone out and try to walk away. That's not like you, that isn't you." His eyes scan over your face and you weren't sure if it was the place effecting you, but you just wanted to keep going, "Something is drawing us to that hallway."

"What do you mean?" Sam shakes his head, "Y/n, I don't want you out of my sight, this place is too big and too dark for you to just go off away from us."

"Then put me on a leash or something, because I'm not done here."

You've never spoken to Sam like that. Ever. So when you said it, you were both surprised, "I'm.. sorry, I don't know where that came from."

"My point exactly." Sam chews on his lip, trying to tell himself over and over again that this place is a lot more powerful than they thought.

"What's going on? You guys okay?"

"Yes." You say the same time Sam says, "No."

Colby looks between the two of you then back to Sam. Sam sighs, "This place obviously has a hold over you, y/n. So everything is not okay."

"What-" Colby starts but you cut him off, looking directly at Sam, "Sam. This is what we do. you can't expect me to just back out every time something hap-"

Sam cuts you off, "Yours being pulled by what we can only assume is a dark entity. How do you expect me to act? Just let you walk off into the sunset with it? No. No thanks."

"Guys, come on.. just take a deep breath. There's absolutely no need to argue." Colby tries to settle the situation but it only seemed to fire up the ghosts because it sounds like a table is lifted then dropped back down.

Sam instantly grabs you, pulling you to him, "You're staying close."

You don't put up any more of a fight, knowing that Sam would drag you out himself if he had to, "Fine."

You knew he was right. As soon as you seen the figure in the hallway, something switched and it was like you needed to follow it.

And you didn't know why.

"Why don't we just go there?" Colby says as you guys leave the day room, "Where the sound happened. If it gets bad we can just leave, we always have that option."

You knew Colby wanted to stay, too, but he was also worried about Sam because he was worried about you, "What do you want to do, Sam?"

Sam thinks for a moment before sighing, "If you zone out one more time and try to walk away from us, we're leaving."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

The investigation went on to be better than you guys thought. Nothing happened to you. Nothing happened to them, you thought that maybe your small argument with Sam helped, but you'd soon come to find out that was not true at all.

"So as you guys could see, there hasn't really been much activity going on, probably for the last hour or two." Colby says and motions towards the spirit box, "We brought this to the third floor, hoping to see if we can figure out what exactly happened to some of the patients."

Sam sets the camera down on the one table, angling it towards you guys and the box, "Okay, we'll sit this right here and.." Sam stands up and turns around, "Did you touch me?"

You shake your head, "We've been over here."

"My whole body like shifted and it felt like someone's hand on my side." He lays his hand right where he felt it, "like right here exactly." Colby walks over and Sam demonstrates on him what he felt.

"fucking hell that's creepy." Colby shakes his head, "You know when we were walking up the stairs, it felt like someone else was behind us."

"I thought I heard someone whistle or whisper, I don't know.. it was like a quiet high pitched sound, but I couldn't make out if it was a word or not." You look around, "This floor honestly makes me nervous, and those creepy steps didn't help."

"Those stairs the whole way up I just kept thinking about how people were actually getting dragged up and sown." Sam shakes his head, "let's just.. get this thing going."

Sam was off, and you picked up on it quickly. It was almost like what took over you, took over Sam.

"Sam?" You step towards him, "Sam... Colby.. colby."

He stares at the floor and Colby walks up to him, "Sam, dude. Hey."

You shake him slightly and he looks back up, "Let's get this thing going."

You look at Colby and back to Sam, "You already said that." He looks at you confused, "Huh?" He laughs nervously, "No I didn't."

Colby nods, "You did, man. You zoned out after, looking at the floor."

Sam looks at you, "Did it come after me now?"

You shrug, "I was thinking that, because isn't that what I did?" You look at Colby and he nods, "yes but the only thing is he didn't try to walk off."

Sam switches the box on, "What do you want with us?"

"... I want ... to know.."

"You want to know what?" Colby asks loudly, "did you take over y/n and Sam?"

"... Miss.. it ..."

"You miss what?" You ask, "Do you miss being alive?"

" ... alive ..."

"You are not welcome to touch us. You cannot control us." Sam says, "What do you want us to see?"

"... the... truth .. in here .."

"Were you murdered here?" Colby asks and it sounds like something bouncing down the steps, "Was that you making that noise?"

"... must get ... out..."

"Are you telling us to get out? Or do you want to get out?" Sam presses his fingers to his lips, "Can you tell us who we're talking to?"

"... he's in.. here .."

"Who? Who is in here?" You ask staring at the box, "Can you tell us who is here with us?"

" ... John .. murder .."

"John and murder?" Colby looks at you guys, "Did John murder you? Were you murdered by John Agatha?"

"... liar .. he lies ..."

"Did John lie about your death?" You ask and step closer to Sam, "What did he do to you?"

"... tried to run.."

"Did you try and escape? Did he punish you for that?" Colby asks and jumps next to you when the door to the one room slams shut, "Who is here with us? Reveal your name to us."

"... John .. is mad..."

"Is he mad that we're here trying to find out what he did?" You ask and Sam looks at you, "I think we should stop."

You felt the need to keep going, "Can he come in here with us?"

"Y/n." Colby looks at you then to Sam, jumping as heavy footsteps come down the hallway, "Sam's right." Colby reaches to switch off the spirit box, but you stop him, "Just wait."

Sam nods at him, chewing on his lip as the footsteps start again.

"John Agatha. If you're here, tell us why you killed those people." You glance towards the door, only to snap your head back to the box,

"... they needed to die ..."

"No they didn't. They were sick." You argue and Sam pulls you back, "That's enough." You push away from him, "Sam. We're getting answers."

"No, you're arguing with something that we're unsure of. You don't know the power of this thing. " Sam runs a hand through his hair, "I think we're done. I don't like this-"

"Colby do you want to leave?" You look at Colby and he holds his hands up, "I think I'm with Sam on this one."

You roll your eyes, "Of course you do."

"Y/n. What the hell has gotten into you?" Sam looks at you shocked, "You have never acted this way during one of these and that's why we're done." He grabs your wrist, holding onto you, "We are done here."

"... no .."

Sam shakes his head and turns off the box, "I'm not doing this. We can talk about this at home."

You turn around, finding Colby no where in the room, "Colby?" You call out, "Sam. Colby is gone." Sam's heart starts to race, "Fuck, yo Colby?"

No answer.

"Fuck. Fuck. Come on." He hands you the camera, and turns on his flashlight, yelling for Colby as you make your way to the stairs.

"Careful, careful." Sam makes sure you make it down okay before stopping at the bottom, "You don't think he went to the basement did you?"

"Or where the sound came from? That's where I was feeling drawn to." You look around, sighing, "Fuck. Fuck. Colby?!"

You hear a loud thump come from where the first crash happened, "We have to." You look at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, yeah. I know." He interlocks his fingers with yours and pulls you with him.

You both yell out for Colby, looking for any kind of sign, "Colby? Come on this isn't funny." Your voice kinda breaks as your fear builds up faster and faster.

"Colby. Come on man, we're leaving." Sam yells out and you stop when you see a metal cart laying on its side, old trays spilling out from the door that is open.

"He was right, that's what that sound was earlier when we started." Sam shines the flashlight on it and looks up, "Colby?"

"Wait." You stop Sam, "Isn't John's office over here?"

His eyes go wide, "Fuck, yeah it is." He turns towards the walkway, "Colby!?"

You perk up, "Wait. I think.." you whisper, "Yell out to him again."

"Colby?!"

"This way." You pull Sam down the hall, half preparing yourself for when Colby jumps out and scares you both, or at least you're hoping that's what he's doing.

"Colby? Please." You beg, hoping you can find him.

"If we just left when I said.."

You stop, cutting Sam off, "No. we aren't playing the blame game because right now our friend is lost and we have no idea where he is."

"Where who is?" Colby walks up, and you Sam let out a scream.

"Where the fuck did you go?" Sam yells, "You just up and left us dude. Why?"

"You guys were arguing and I thought I heard someone in the hallway, so I came out to see and then I was halfway down the steps. I thought I saw people, like teenagers run to the left and my first instinct was to just go." Colby explains, "I don't know dude. Really, I was running and then I was like wait, I'll get lost so I turned around and now we're here."

"You could have been hurt, Colby." You push his shoulder and he just shrugs.

"Sorry man." Sam lays a hand on his shoulder, "last I knew you were right behind us."

He nods, "it's fucking crazy. This place is a maze, and I don't mean physically either."

"Let's just.. go get the stuff and head out to the car." Sam sighs, pointing the camera to Colby, "We found him. He says there were people here but we aren't sure about anything, and I mean that about this whole entire place."

"I don't even know how to describe it other than what y/n said. Like that tired feeling and then I wasn't where I remember I was." Colby explains and you nod, "Yeah like you can tell what you're doing but you aren't focused on what you're doing."

"Alright well I think that's it for-" Sam stops talking and looks behind him, "There was just.. three knocks." He whips around looking at you guys when it happens again, "that.. that.."

"What the hell is that?" Colby whispers and you're pushed towards the way the office is, "Do not touch me. Do not touch any of us." You hold your hand up, "Fuck."

"Y/n. We need to go." Colby steps towards you and you shake your head, "we can't leave."

"We aren't arguing again, y/n." Sam walks towards you and when he goes to grab your hand, he's pushed back.

Colby snaps his head towards the hall, "Someone just said don't touch her." He looks at Sam, "I swear to god dude. A clear as day whisper like right behind me."

You feel something grab your hair and lift it off of your shoulder. You jump and brush a hand over, "Something just played with my hair."

"We're leaving."

As you go to collect the equipment, that's when things take a turn for the weird.

"So, maybe Colby was right. We heard things..." Sam says as he tries to control his breathing, "We aren't sure what it was exactly, right now we're just ducked down behind this desk thing."

"That's what I heard earlier, but you'd think if it was actual people they'd make a lot more noise than just footsteps, right?" Colby whispers leaning in towards you and Sam. Sam's grips on your hand tightens as the foot steps grow closer.

They stop abruptly and Colby stands up, "There's no one here." Sam pulls your arm, "Let's just make a run for it."

You guys book into the door, breathing heavy as Colby closes it with a slam. Sam pulls you away from the building, "you okay?"

You nod, "Yeah, yeah are you?" He nods and pulls you into him, hugging you tightly.

"That was fucking crazy." Colby says walking around you guys, "I've never experienced anything like that. Like we were affected in a way we can't really explain in depth."

"This doesn't feel finished, though." You pull away from Sam and he stares at you, "What?"

You look between him and Colby, "Exactly what I said."

And you meant that. You wanted to come back here, get more answers about this asylum. You knew more happened here than what people have said.

"You're going to really stand here, and tell me that you want to go back in there." Sam scoffs, "Even after what you had happen? What I had happen? Christ, y/n, Colby went missing for god knows how long."

He puts his hands on his head and spins around slowly, trying to comprehend as to why you'd want to.

"Because there's more in there, more stuff that people don't know and I want to be the one to find out exactly what it is." You point to the building and drop your hand, "If you don't want to then I'll come back myself."

"The fuck you will." Sam shakes his head, "Y/n. You could have been the one lost. You could have been the one lost in there, alone.. and I don't-" his voice cracks and he clears his throat, "You're not coming back here and I mean that."

"Why don't we -"

"Stay out of this, Colby." You and Sam say looking over at him.

He holds his hands up and walks over to the car while you and Sam still argue.

"You didn't know what you were doing, y/n. Okay? You could have easily got lost." Sam looks at you and you shrug, "But I didn't."

He stares at you a few moments before shaking his head, "The only reason you want to come back here is because whatever is on the other side of that door is making you want to come back."

You clench your jaw, knowing that he's right but since you're fighting, you don't want to let him win easy.

"That place changed you." Sam says lowly, "We have never, ever fought like this, we've never fought at all. Doesn't that mean anything?"

"Never said it didn't, Sam." You mumble as you walk towards the car, getting into the back. You glance over, seeing Sam bend down slightly before kicking the rocks on the ground and walking over to get in the passenger seat of the car.

"Home?" Colby asks starting the car.

You and Sam both mumble a low, "Mhm." Colby takes a deep breath and starts to drive out of the gate, "I have to lock up. Don't kill each other." He gets out, jogging up to shut the gate.

Sam glances back at you and you look at him. He sighs, "I'm still mad, but I love you."

You try not to smile, "I love you."

Colby gets back into the car, "Did you guys makeup yet?" You both refuse to answer and he laughs sarcastically to himself, "Oh this is going to be such a wonderful quiet ride home."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"We have like half an hour left, do you want to stop somewhere and get something to eat?" Colby looks at Sam and he nods, "Yeah, that works." He looks back at you, "Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." You say lowly with a slight nod.

"Are we finally speaking to each other?" Colby acts surprised, "Wow. It's about time."

You roll your eyes and Sam scoffs, "I'm mad, that doesn't mean I don't care about her still."

You smile slightly, looking away from him so he doesn't see it. You get out of the car and go to walk in but Colby stops you, "We weren't us back there. Don't hold it over his head."

"Tell that to him." You mumble and he nods, "I plan to, trust me. I just got to you first." You laugh as you walk in to the store and Colby walks up to Sam, telling him the same thing he told you.

As you're standing there, looking at the snacks, you feel hands slides around your waist and pull you back, "You know.."

"What do I know?" You ask as your nails gently graze over his hands, "Even though you pissed me off.." his voice goes quiet, "The way you argued with the ghost was such a turn on."

You smirk and turn around to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck, "Is that your way of saying you're sorry?" He bites his bottom lip as he looks at you, "I'll say it when we get home."

He winks at you and leans in to kiss you. You slide your fingers in his hair, humming against his lips slightly.

Colby walks up, "Now that's what I like to see."

You and Sam pull away and look at him. He has a big cheesy smirk on his face and you can't help but laugh, "What would we do without him?"

Colby buts in, "Oh i don't know, probably give each other the silent treatment until days from now."

Sam chuckles and sighs, "That wasn't any of us back there." You look up at him, "Yeah.. that was bad."

Colby nods, "I've never seen you act the way you did, y/n. Honestly it was kinda badass. Arguing with a potential demon."

Sam nods, looking down at you. You look up at him, "I learned from the best."

You grab your snacks and head out to the car, getting into the back as they get up front, "So now that this is no longer a quiet ride home, and I am no longer feeling awkward, can we please talk about what happened?"

"Mhm. Yeah sure." Sam mumbles as he stares down at his phone. Colby looks over at him before he starts driving, "What are you doing?"

You phone vibrates and you see a message from Sam, "Colby don't look at his phone. I beg you."

"Why can be so-" he reads over the message that was sent from Sam's phone, you've had me low key turned on this entire night, when we get home I'm going to show you just how sorry I am.

"Well, okay." Colby sits forward, "That awkward part is back."

You laugh, replying to Sam, just how are you going to do that?

Colby clears his throat, "Can we.." he laughs, "Can you stop sexting each other for one second so we can do the outro please?"

You sigh, resting your phone down on the seat next to you, "anything for princess Colby." He lays his hand under his chin, "As it should be."

You and Sam both laugh and he gets the camera rolling, "We are currently on our way home. Tonight was.." Sam sighs and looks at Colby, "I don't even know how to explain it."

"A big mess." You laugh and Colby sighs, "It was definitely something like that. I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact that we were .. taken over basically."

"Yeah, yeah no. That part was absolutely fucked up. I luckily didn't have it happen like y/n or Colby did, but it was still a surreal feeling to have people telling you that you zoned out with absolutely no recollection of it at all." Sam points his thumb back to you, "And then you got Mrs I like to argue with ghosts back here, but that's a story we'll post on our other channel, maybe, who knows, but we are done for tonight, like I said, it was a whirlwind of events and we are so excited for you guys to see what we experienced tonight at the Agatha Asylum."

"Drop a like if Mrs I like to argue with ghosts should be made into a sweatshirt." Colby gives a thumbs up and Sam yells, "Ayyyy yes. Y/n." He points the camera to you, "How would you like to have your own collection."

"That would be pretty sick." You smile and nod, "I actually like that a lot."

Sam points the camera to himself, "Well have to work on it. See you guys in the next one."

Sam cuts the camera off, "Mrs I like to argue with ghosts." He laughs and looks back at you, "I'm getting you a hoodie that says that."

You smile and nod, "I'll wear it everyday."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

"Have fun. I'll be down here editing away from all the noise." Colby says as he grabs his laptop off the counter.

Without any hesitation, Sam grabs your hand and up the stairs you go, laughing with him as you try to keep up.

You run into the room you share, falling on the bed with him on top of you, "You drive me insane, but always in the best way." His lips press to yours as his hand pulls your head close to him.

You drag his sweatshirt up his back, telling him you want it off. He leans up, slipping it off in one perfect motion and you pull him back down to kiss you.

He grinds himself against you, "I'm sorry for yelling at you." You moan slightly, shaking your head, "We weren't us." You cup his face, "This is us."

He smiles and kisses you again. You quickly grow into a heated make out, clawing the rest of each other clothes off and slipping under the blankets.

"If I ever yell at you like that again, just sacrifice me to the demons, babe." He chuckles slightly, brushing hair from your face before sliding his hand down to pull you closer.

"I'd be coming with you. We're inseparable." You nudge your nose against his and he nods, "Damn right we are."

He rolls on top of you, rubbing the head of his cock against your pussy, "You were so.." he lets out a low moan as he slips his cock into you, "..fucking hot back there.."

He pushes his hips to meet yours, "You always amaze me."

You run your hand through his hair, biting down on your lip as he starts to thrust, "Fuck.." you whimper and look up at him, "I'd do anything to protect you."

"I'd die for you." He stares at you for a few seconds, still thrusting deep and slow, "I mean that wholeheartedly. You mean the most to me and I'd do anything to keep you safe."

You smile and lay a hand on his cheek, "I love you."

He kisses your lips, whispering a low, "I love you."

He leans up a little bit, "Now roll over so I can punish you for yelling at me." He winks and gives you a cocky smirk before pulling out. You smirk as your stomach does an excited flip.

You roll over onto your stomach and Sam's body is immediately on yours, his cock back in to where it was before, "I wanted to shut you up in anyway I could."

You moan as he thrusts slow, "Why didn't you?"

"Would have had to cut a lot of the footage out." Sam says lowly in your ear, "Plus I don't really want Colby seeing how pretty you look while you're gagging on my dick."

Your eyes roll back as he pushes all the way in, "Because you my love, are fucking gorgeous."

You grip the sheets, moaning as his hand slides around to your throat, squeezing as he whispers, "Or how pretty you look while I'm in between those legs.."

"S-Sam." You squeeze his cock with your walls, "Fuck, I-I'm so close."

"Go ahead, baby." Sam groans lowly, "Fuck, I'm not going to last much longer either." He hooks his thumb over your bottom jaw and you immediately suck.

He moans lowly, pounding into you, "That's my girl."

You moan around his thumb, trying to move your hips but you can't go anywhere. Your moans are growing louder as you reach your point, squeezing him as you claw at the sheets.

"Come on, baby." He pleads, "Cum for me."

You whimper and moan his name over and over again, letting your head fall back as you cum, "Fuck fuck fuck."

Sam suddenly pulls out, his cum spilling on your back, "Fuck, babe." you let your head fall forward, resting on the bed as your breathing is heavy.

"You okay?" Sam asks getting up to get you a towel. You look back at him, "Oh yeah. I'm so much better."

He smiles and shakes his head, "You know, I wonder how much of us arguing was actually caught on camera."

"Probably all of it, Sam. And if I'm being honest, it'll probably turn me on again." You roll over once he wipes you off and smirk up at him.

"You too, huh?" He smiles as he bites his bottom lip as you nod, "Uh huh. Very much." He pulls you up so you're standing in front of him, "I really don't want to yell at you again, but if it's something that'll get you going then.." he leans in, kissing you, "then we might just have to work something out."

You suddenly hear Colby yelling, "Oh shit. No fucking way!"

You quickly throw on clothes and run down, "What? What? What!?" Sam asks going over, you hand still in his, "Bro what the fuck is that?"

"That my friend is what was controlling us tonight." Colby turns the laptop towards you and Sam and you gasp, "That's exactly what I saw."

.·:*¨ ✘ ¨*:·.

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

[ceilidho]

prompt: repressed bi ghost who won't admit he wants to fuck his girlfriend and soap so he keeps making soap watch him with reader and thinks he just has an exhibitionism kink. definitely puts on a bit of a performance for soap tho (ns/fw) (ghost/reader/MAYBE soap)

-

He won’t say it because it’s not true.

He won’t say it because there’s no room for it in his world. He won’t say it because even the threat of it not being reciprocated is enough to make his chest go tight and sharp like a set of claws raking down his front. He won’t say it even though when Soap is assigned to his team, he spends months sitting ramshot straight in the Humvee next to the sergeant, forcing himself to focus on anything aside from the way Soap’s big fingers wrap around the hilt of his knife or the trigger of a gun.

Besides, it’s not like the possibility of love is closed off to him altogether. Ghost knows that from the moment he lays eyes on you; little slip of a thing that works on base, an analyst from a department that doesn’t intersect with his own so there’s no conflict of interest there. It doesn’t take much to get you into his bed and then keep you there—a couple of soft words, arm on the wall next to your head, looming over when he pulls the mask over his lips and he sees the way your eyes go wide at the sight of his mouth and he grins—

Still though, for how deeply entrenched you are in his heart, Ghost can’t shake the feeling that bubbles up in his chest when Soap sneaks up behind him on base or covers him on missions, like they’re a single unit. There's something he needs there, but he can't say it, not even to himself, but it's real and it exists in the fleeting moments when Soap's body is lit by the sun or gunfire or smoke from a cigarette. 

Interestingly enough, it’s actually Soap that brings it up the first time. Outside the bar, the landscape is soaked with light in the dusk; there’s a thin trail of smoke from Price’s cigar off in the distance, only the red butt glowing in the dark announcing his presence, far off as it is. They're otherwise alone though, unwinding after a lengthy mission that left the two of them exhausted and aching, but still alive, so good.

They’re standing outside of the bar leaning against the porch railing that wraps around the front, taking turns making little quips between sips of whatever they’re drinking. 

Soap makes a comment about you, something offhand about where he can find a little thing like you for himself. Ghost’s face doesn’t so much as twitch, even under the mask, but he doesn’t reply, throat tight. Not jealousy. It’s not jealousy or bitterness because if it was, then that would mean something that he doesn’t want to think about, never mind mull over. Never mind dwell in. Soap can fuck whoever he wants—if there’s a girl somewhere like you for him, that’s none of Ghost’s business. 

Doesn’t mean his teeth don’t clench. 

“Bonnie lass at home,” he goes on, pausing only to take a deep drink, smacking his lips when he pulls the glass away. “Warming my bed, waiting for me to get back. Gaun yersel' for getting a little thing like tha’.”

Still Ghost doesn’t respond. 

“Bet you make her work for it, L.T,” Soap teases with a grin, cockiness belied by the blush that stains his cheeks. He gets shifty once the words leave his mouth, almost like he can’t believe he said it, looking off into the distance instead of up at his superior officer.

Ghost hardly registers the words at first, his brain going staticy, thoughts slipping away fast because he realizes that Soap must have been thinking about—Soap must have been imagining you and him like that to say that. 

When he turns to him, his eyes are dark, only a sliver of blue visible around his pupil. “Why? Something you’re interested in?”

Soap goes still and silent, breath rushing out of him. His fingers tighten around the glass and Ghost sees it for a split second. A way in. 

He fucks you extra hard that first time. Lays you out and drags your pussy onto his cock again and again, hips bucking back against yours and your screams get hoarse like it hurts a bit. Just on the side of too painful. It’s always on the side of too much for you because he’s near twice your size; even as used to his size as you are, Ghost still had to tuck two fingers into your cunt to stretch you out enough for him. Got his tongue in there too, just to make sure you were nice and wet. His mask and clothes have long since been stripped, laying in a rumpled pile at the foot of the bed.

Soap’s on the other side of the room, big hand around his dick, lube squelching in his hand. Ghost allows himself to glance over once, eyes glazing over when he sees the way Soap’s hand tightens at the sharp whimper you make when he fucks you just right.

“Like you imagined it, Johnny?” he goads. Your soft gasps drag Ghost’s attention back down to you and he says something crooning and delicate in your ear, making your nails dig into the meat of his back. 

“Fuck no, Ghost—it’s— fuck, suck her tits, please.” His voice rends Ghost down the middle, makes him hot enough that it’s no trouble at all to duck his head and run his tongue over your berry nipple. 

“How’s she takin’ a big yin like you,” Soap grunts, entirely unaware that his words rattle around in Ghost’s head and make him pump between your thighs all the more unhinged. “Tiny thing. Looks fuckin’ tight, Christ. You’d have to drag me offa her—”

He won’t admit that he comes when Soap digs his heels into the carpeted floor and tilts his head back, come striping his belly and tagging across his brown nipples. He watches Soap come and feels something slot in his chest like everything is right for the first time. 

Ghost fits a hand around your neck and holds you still, ducking his head into your neck and watching you and Soap through slit eyes. When you come, clenched around his cock, breath coming out in high, tight pants, Ghost knows that he won’t be able to give this up. Neither of you.

[thatanimeramenchick]

Yandere Vox x Secretary Reader Pt. 2

Eh, what have you guys done to me. I swear, we Vox fangirls are the thirstiest on the internet right now. Also, officially, I’m making this a three part series, but that’s it. So much for a oneshot. I'll make a title for this series, eventually. Also, if you want to be tagged, please put your age in your bio.

Part One - Part Three

Triggers: Dubcon-y vibes in scenes. Violence and threatening. Read responsibly, stuff is gonna get a little dark this chapter.

Word count: 3,142

---

Vox thought you looked perfect. For once, you were wearing something decent that he bought you instead of one of the plain outfits from before you had moved in. Somehow, you had been convinced to put on actual jewelry and makeup as well. The only flaw you held was the dirty look on your face, which you refused to face towards him directly, and it only got dirtier as you downed more and more wine.

“You know, you could at least attempt to have a good time after all the effort I put into this evening,” he said, “You haven’t even touched your food.”

“Not hungry,” you said, voice ice cold. It always was nowadays.

“If you’re not in the mood for dinner, we could watch a new production I oversaw,” he said, “I think you’d enjoy it.”

You snort at that.

“I’d rather listen to Alastor’s radio program than watch any of the hot trash your production company creates,” you said.

“I’m sorry? What was that?” he said, putting a warning hint into his tone.

“You heard me,” you said, “I’ve gotta say for someone supposedly so modern, you’re still just an old man. Alastor is what? Like twenty years older than you? And you think he’s elderly? You’re practically a decrepit bygone as well. You think anyone gives a shit about cable nowadays? At least Alastor has the decency to make stuff with class and not just forgettable, cheap cash grabs.”

Against his will, he felt a circuit spurt. His hand clenched around the glass and slammed it onto the table, causing you to jump. A small noise left your mouth, as panicked as the look in your eyes was now. You looked like you knew that you had pushed a little more than you probably should have.

“You know what?” he hissed, “You think you can just talk to me like that? Fine. You wanna play rough with me? Well guess what, I’m going to fuck that bad attitude right out of you!”

“Excuse me???”

You didn’t even look scared at that just shocked and baffled, as if that had been the last thing you had expected to hear.

“You heard me!” he grabbed you by your shoulders and shoved you flat onto the couch, “I’m sick of you fighting me. Well, you’re not going to after this.”

“W-wait, Vox, stop-”

He smashed his lips to yours, purposefully being harsh, biting you when you tried to keep your mouth closed. When you attempted to turn your face away, he grabbed your chin rough enough where he knew it would leave a mark before kissing you harder. You pounded your fist against his chest, but he ignored it, straddling you. He eventually used his other hand to grab your wrist and push it into the couch.

He didn’t know when it happened, but at some point in your struggle something shifted in the air. Changed. You had finally stopped fighting, slowly wrapping your arm around his neck, kissing him back. It was heavenly, you finally submitting to him. Yes, yes, yes… He paused to look you in the eyes, to see your timid gaze and red face. There was still a look of anger glazed across your features, but it was fading. He brought his hand up to play at the buttons on your blouse. You looked at each other for a second longer before you initiated a kiss for once, using the arm around his neck to pull him close. Your tongue felt so hot, so right, as if your body was as electric as his own and-

Vox gasped, a spark running through his head. He woke up alone in bed, a literal hot mess. He felt like his head was overheating, running a million miles a minute, despite the fact that he should feel cold from sleep. Mixing this with the slick sweat and fluid he was covered in, it was an uncomfortable feeling. Groping for the robe hanging next to his bed, he climbed out. What a dream. He needed a second to wire down from that before trying to go back to sleep.

He picked up his phone and opened it to check on you. The camera in your room showed you curled up on your mattress, blanket half off your body and arms wrapped around one of your pillows. It pressed into your dozing face, which held a peaceful, relaxed look that he rarely saw now that you had decided to go to war with him. His finger absently stroked your image on the screen.

Why did you have to be so difficult? He didn’t know what had been the powder keg that had kicked off your little rebellion, but whatever it was, all his attempts to nip it in the bud had made you more temperamental. Clearly his irritation with your behavior had seeped into his mind enough to create some… darker fantasies deep in his sleeping subconscious.

He shook his head. It was just a dream. It didn’t mean anything.

Besides, he already had been thinking about what to do next, to give you that little push you needed to be more agreeable.

---

Later that day he scoffed at how ridiculous his own morbid imagination was. The idea of you dressed all pimped up like one of Valentino’s whores. You barely got out of bed nowadays. If he was being honest, your imprisonment had caused your mood to swing between defiant temper tantrums and a hopelessly depressed sloth. Today, you were in the latter mood, still in pajamas that he swore you were wearing two days ago, lying on the couch and mindlessly eating as you watched some random reality show.

“Hello there, beautiful,” he said, trying to sound pleasant, “Looks like you’ve had a relaxing day.”

You glance at him for a second before looking back at the television. The blanket is pulled tighter around you, as if you were trying to hide any inch of yourself from him. Ever since his last attempt at showing his affection had ended in you headbutting him – hard – you had been particularly prickly at even the slightest hint that he might want to touch you.

“What do you want, asshole?” you said, voice lacking emotion.

Charming as always.

“Well, dearest, I was thinking. Now that you’ve had some time to think things over, I was hoping we could finally come to an agreement that would make us both happy,” he said.

“I highly doubt that’s possible,” you said.

He sat beside you, which caused you to curl your legs in tighter. You inch up on the arm a little, as if to sit as far away from him as possible without having to actually put any effort into getting up.

“We both have something that the other person wants, something that could be easily settled with a written contract,” Vox said, “You would like to be allowed to roam around this cesspool of a city and I-”

“Let me guess, it includes a whole paragraph about me never leaving your sight as well as a clause about how often you get to stick yourself in my various orifices?” you grumbled.

“You’re so melodramatic sometimes,” he said, “You always assuming the worst about people, F/N. Makes me wonder if you were double crossed a lot in your previous life.”

You don’t even respond to this, just continue to stare ahead. He’d noticed that lately you’ve been avoiding his gaze. He wasn’t sure how much you had figured out about his abilities, but you seemed to have pieced enough together that the more you avoided his eyes, the less direct influence he had on you at the moment. He was sure that it was one of the many reasons you were so moody lately; you stubbornly refused to be soothed by him. Regardless, whether you were trying to avoid his hypnotic gaze or not, it’s no matter. It’s not like you’re going to be able to avoid the overall influence he has over this city, especially if you spend your free time watching television he’s created.

“It’s rather tame, considering the situation you’re in. Contract or not, it’s not like you’re going to be going anywhere anytime soon,” he continued, “You’re lucky I care for you as much as I do, trying to work with you like this.”

“Hooray for me,” you said.

You really were a brat sometimes. Vox at times wondered if it was because he was too soft on you, and you didn’t realize the amount of actual power he held over you. Either that or you just didn’t care anymore. Whatever. It was all big talk because at the end of the day, you both knew you couldn’t do anything about your situation.

“You already have lots of benefits, which you would retain. Nice apartment, clothes, up to date tech. Besides that, you can come and go regularly, as long as you’re back here within twenty-four from when you last left. You can do whatever you want during that time. You also would be working for me a minimum of forty hours a week, with the occasional granted vacation at my discretion. That’s pretty much it, along with you occasionally being cooperative with my… desires,” he said, “So you’d have plenty of time to yourself. I didn’t put in anything that would force you to do anything too unsavory with me.”

Though he certainly would have liked to be more pushy in that department, he knew going too far could result in the kind of hate fueled relationship Valentino and Angel Dust shared. He honestly didn’t have the energy to have that much drama in his own life. Good night, he could hardly handle the drama that was in his life now. Besides, he was sure you’d come around willingly, even if it took a few centuries.

You glared at him as he finished speaking, as if to say, how generous of you.

From inside his vest, he pulls out the contract and holds it out to you.

“So, we have a deal?” he asked.

You sit up and take the paper, still avoiding his eyes. You seem to be reading it over, though your hold on it is lazy.

“… This still says you can fuck me at least once a week if you want to, or else I’m not allowed to leave the building,” you said, “Did you really think I wasn’t going to notice shit like that?”

He laughed a bit awkwardly.

“I mean, I did say I would like you to be at least a little cooperative,” he said, crossing his legs, “We could wait a little while if you’d like. I mean, you’d still have more freedom than you do now, even with that minuscule restriction. You should know by now that I’m a patient man.”

You stare at it again, forehead wrinkled.

“You know what… I see where you’re coming from,” you said, finally making eye contact, “Tic for tac, eh?”

“That’s a crude way for you to put it,” he said.

You shrug.

“Crude or not, it’s the truth,” you said, a sardonic smirk appearing on your face, “You want me to give a little to get a little.”

Before he could say anything you hold up your hands with more energy than he’s seen you have in days.

“No, no, no! I understand. I’ve been in hell long enough to know how people like you work. I get where you’re coming from, I really do. I’m not stupid! So trust me, I’m being completely serious when I say that I think you should take this lovely contract of yours and shove it up your glowing blue ass!” you ripped it in half on the last word, your smile still present but a nasty look in your eyes.

Vox felt his eye twitch as you continued to smirk at him, tossing the paper at him like you would throw trash across the room. You then lie back down and turn back to the TV, ignoring him again as if the last few minutes hadn’t even happened at all. Though you were attempting to pull your face back into the blank expression of earlier, he could see in your eyes a mixture of emotion, rage, yes, but also a certain smugness. What, did you really think you were tough shit for mouthing off to him like that?

He felt like his head was going to explode. Before he even registered how he was reacting, he had grabbed you by the hair and was pulled you back over.

“Ow! What the hell are you doing, Vox?” you yelled, the smug look gone from your eyes, “You’re hurting me!”

“You think you’re so smart, don’t you? I’m trying to be generous to you because I actually like you, but you know what? I’ve clearly spoiled you rotten already!” he fumed.

He was practically seeing red as he dragged you over, causing you to yelp. You try to kick him, but he only grabs onto your ankle and pulls you closer to him, spinning you around so that you were pressed against the back of the couch, his arms on either side of you. His fingers are still gripping your hair, forcing you to turn your head towards him.

“You know, you’re right, who needs a contract?” he said, “I can do whatever the hell I want with you, and what are you going to do about it?”

Your voice cracked as you attempted to speak, but he didn’t pay any attention to what you were trying to say. He could feel his systems overloading with the amount of rage he was feeling, shouting over you.

“I hope you like the view from up here, because you’re staying here for the rest of your miserable eternal exist. You can work and live here 24/7,” he said, “Anything else we should change in the arrangement? You didn’t like the idea of fucking me once a week? Fine by me. Why not once a day? Twice a day? Every hour? Would you like that better? Huh? Answer me!”

As he finished speaking, he finally heard what you were saying, “-m sorry! I’m sorry, please, stop!

As he heard your pleading, he felt himself being brought back down to earth. While his rage was still present, your begging brought him back to reality, and it was finally registering how upset you were. Hysterical. Terrified. You were sobbing, more afraid of him than he had ever seen you, even on the worst days of your fighting.

“D-d-don’t hurt me. I’m s-sorry, I’m sorry! Please, don’t hurt me!”

He released your hair with a rapid exhale, and you automatically moved your head away from him, arms shielding your face. Shaking, it was sinking in just emotionally distraught you were, as well as the damage he had done to the couch. He hadn’t even noticed he had been digging his claws into the polyester, a row of gnashes beside your head. The situation was completely getting out of control. He pushed himself off of you and turned away. He didn’t even say anything, just left the room and went through the wires to his office. His head was overheating, and he was going to crash at this rate if he didn’t calm down.

Damn it! He hated how out of control you made him feel. It was pathetic. There was only one other person he could think of that made him get near as frustrated as he was feeling with you at the moment. He wasn’t the kind to act out, and here he was acting almost as ridiculous as his business partner did. The only saving grace was that Vox at least tried to keep his infatuation as quiet and private as possible.

It was more than his emotional irregularity though. The fact that he felt this way at all about you was humiliating. Affection, fondness, it was a weakness, and he knew it. Valentino got away with just having simple lust and taking what he wanted, but genuine affection demanded gentleness and tenderness. It was beyond him just not being able to do as he pleased with you, he didn’t want to. He wanted you to come to him willingly. It was the thing holding him back from just hypnotizing you into his arms or using a “love” potion, and now he had probably set any progress towards your affection back significantly.

He rubbed his forehead, which was starting to cool down a little. What was going on up there? He was going to end up doing something rash, something he regretted, if he didn’t get things under control and under control fast. Something needed to be done, but he didn’t know what. Nothing had gone how he had wanted it to. He would need to rethink his approach.

---

You spent a long time shaking on the couch, arms and blanket wrapped around you, crying. You were an idiot. Clearly your brain was turning to mush just sitting around the house all day. Did you actually think you’d be able to get away with speaking like that to an Overlord of Hell?

There had to be a way out of this place. Had to. But the more you thought about it, the more impossible it felt. Even if you did manage to get out of the building in one piece, Vox had this entire city under constant watch. Every corner of Pentagram City was crawling with his tech and media. It would take minutes if not seconds for him to find you and bring you back by force. At this point, maybe you should just sign a contract with the douchebag. Surely, he’d get bored of you eventually, right? Maybe if you got lucky he’d even get killed off one of these days in an extermination, and you’d be off the hook completely.

But how long would that take? Decades? A century or two? What if he never tired of you? Eternal death or not, you didn’t want to spend that much time living and sleeping with some psycho you hated. No. That wasn’t an option. You weren’t going to do that. But what then? You had thought he was going to literally rip your head off just a few minutes ago for telling him no. You were pretty sure things weren’t going to get less volatile around here if you kept rejecting him.

You wiped at your tear soaked face with a tissue and tossed it across the room. It’s light material just sent it floating to the ground though. It looked as pathetic as you felt.

“Damn it,” you cursed, smashing your head into a throw pillow and lying back down, “I hate this fucking place.”

[unholyhelbig]

new oversight will be everything! i can’t wait!

Title: Work Life Balance [an Oversight Oneshot]

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanoff

Summary: When reader gets hurt during a job, she starts to worry about how her girlfriend, the infamous mafia boss that controls the city, will react

[a/n: while this isn't a new chapter of Oversight (I am working on that), it is set in the same universe as the Oversight. It's based off of a Private Practice episode, and something a little lighter & silly. Enjoy!]

Warnings: Gun violence, blood, spit, threats, blood, hurt/comfort, No spell checks

Check out the full Oversight universe

[ Part one | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six | Part Seven ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

The metal bat had slammed against the side of your face with enough force to blind you momentarily in the right eye. It knocked the sense out of you too and your bearings were scrambled until that darkness started to ebb away into a blurry image of the alleyway.

There was a pungent scent in the air, rotted food in dark green trash bags that had been torn by tiny teeth, or elongated claws. Crumpled napkins and discarded soda cups littered the damp ground.

Before the man could swing the bat for a second time, you caught it half an inch from your face and shoved it away. He was disarmed and you were able to shove his back up against the wall, holding him there despite his squirming. His lip was split, the blood drying quickly from the bright red to a deep black.

“Come on, man.” You twisted your hand into the fabric of his shirt, bunching your fingers around his collar. “We fronted the product, so you have to front the cash.”

“Fuck off,”

He spit on you, a gummy mix of tobacco and sugar. There were a lot of things you could handle; the ringing in your ear, and the pain in your knuckles from the first four blows you threw. But spit was where you drew the line. It had bugged you since you were in fifth grade and Amy Sheldon dangled a long string of it inches from your nose before slurping it back up through the slit in her buck teeth.

“Alright,” you breathed out, making sure you kicked the fallen bat out of his reach. “You agree to push product on that little street racer of yours in exchange for twenty five percent of the cut. You get sloppy and sample the product and don’t have the cash to give to my boss?”

You lifted him from the brick and shoved him back down onto it with enough force to push the putrid breath from his lungs. “That doesn’t feel very fair, now, does it?”

He smiled at you with a laugh that rivaled a cackle. His teeth were orange with diluted blood. There was no getting through to him. Your free hand dipped into the side of your jacket. Over the last two years, you’d grown well accustomed to the feeling of a gun in your hand.

You pushed the tip of the gun under his chin into the soft spot of his skin. He stopped laughing, the sound getting stuck in his throat with a choking sound.

“Do you know what they call me?” You gritted.

“A raging bitch?”

You made a buzzing noise in the back of your throat, much like the signaling of a wrong answer on a game show. There was a soft click as you pulled the trigger of the gun. The man in your grasp tensed and hissed.

“Wrong. You know, at first, I just forgot to load my gun. Got me into some pretty hot water, scalding actually. But eventually it became a bit of a calling card. Roulette. I can pull the trigger as many times as I want, but only one will hit it’s mark.”

He swallowed hard, you felt it in the side of your hand. He was sweating and you were growing tired of the empty threats. Yelena wouldn’t approve of something like this, and you were sure Natasha wouldn’t have had a second thought about putting a mark between his eyebrows.

“Most men aren’t lucky more than twice,” You pulled the trigger again, met with another soft click. Of course, there were no bullets in the chamber; they rattled in your front pocket like your keys. “Three times at most.”

His voice cracked. “Please,”

There was a sharp scent in the air that rivaled that of trash. You were losing blood fast. It had streaked down the side of your face from a gash on your temple and crusted the collar of your shirt.

“You have a week to make up the difference. A week and I’ll be back with a gun that has more than one bullet in the chamber. Am I clear?”

“Yes, but-“

“Am I clear?”

He nodded aggressively and you sheathed your weapon, releasing him. His legs gave out and he sunk to the damp pavement. You picked up the weighted metal back, entirely content to take it with you. It would make your next encounter a hell of a lot easier.

It was impossible to sneak into the house without giving yourself away. Even if you were to park down the block, unlace your shoes and pad into the foyer barefoot, and leave the front door open a crack, you were at risk of creating a scene.

That didn’t mean that you couldn’t keep the injured side of your face away from Natasha for as long as possible. She would know that something was up, and despite her throwing you into this life in the first place, her heart broke when you were on the deep side of any injury.

You set the metal bat down with a bucket of black umbrellas and a bench that was mostly unused. There was a dull metal thump that aggravated the headache that was coming on. You attempted to sneak up the stairs, but the second your fingertips hit the mahogany handrail you were stopped by an irritated voice with a Russian lilt to it.

Yelena was sprawled out on the sofa, a book was face down on her chest, lifting and falling with each breath. She’d given up on it in favor of the warmth that Kate provided her. Kate’s head was on Yelena’s shoulder, her arms wrapped around her midsection. Yelena looked perfectly comfortable in between Kate’s legs, both of them were about ready to doze off and if you had waited an extra five minutes, maybe you would have gotten away with sneaking in.

“Did you get hit by a bus?” Kate asked.

You leaned against the entryway of the sitting room. “Ricky got a good hit in with a metal bat.”

“Oo, Natasha is going to be mad at you.” Yelena chuckled, taunting you like a child. You would have thrown a pillow at her if Kate wasn’t in the line of fire.

She was going to be mad at you for not using the buddy system that was proposed and certainly for not dodging the hit that was coming your way. Natasha hated when you got hurt and that sad look in her eyes was worse than whatever pain could be inflicted on you.

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”

“It looks pretty bad.” Kate said.

You shot them both the middle finger before turning away and padding up the stairs towards your shared bedroom with Natasha. Most days, she was holed up in her office and you didn’t bother her until the ache for her touch, for her presence, bothered you both enough to cave.

That was most days.

Some days, Natasha could be found in your room in sweatpants with a laptop propped up on her crossed legs. She was dwarfed in the silk bedspread, her hair in a messy bun and a pair of glasses on the bridge of her nose.

This was quite possibly your favorite look on Natasha, this quiet version of her. She’d let you hold her in this state instead of the other way around. You hated to break the mood, hated that she glanced up from her laptop not once, but twice.

Wordlessly, Natasha set her work aside and walked over to you. She cupped your face, her fingers cold against your cheeks. Her voice was soft and when she was angry enough, there was the slightest bit of a Russian inflection to her words. “What happened?”

“I… didn’t use the buddy system.”

“Mm, you didn’t use the buddy system.”

Her thumb moved against the black and blue wound against your eye. She pressed every so slightly, testing its durability. You winced, drawing in a breath through clenched teeth. It wasn’t bad, really, her touch soothed you just as quickly as it had bitten you with pain.

Natasha was good at taking care of you and she pulled you into the large master bathroom that the two of you shared. There was an abundance of white and beige. It was always a few degrees cooler than the rest of the house and offered a form of comfort as such.

There were nights where the two of you would simply brush your teeth shoulder to shoulder, and there were nights where she had her arms wrapped around you amongst the deep scent of lavender. Bubble hit her touch as her fingers roamed over the most intimate parts of you.

Now, she guided you to the edge of the sink and lifted you up in a fluid motion. She stood between your legs, making you feel even more like a child when Yelena had scolded you downstairs. Still, there was a degree of affection in her movements. Natasha frowned as she pulled a med kit from the bottom of the sink.

She tutted “Zaychik, this looks bad.”

“Image wise or the actual wound because-“You let out a small noise when she placed the frigid and stinging antiseptic against your face. It sent electric down your spine. “I didn’t know he had a bat.”

“A bat?”

“Right out of left field.”

Natasha’s frown deepened. This was supposed to be an easy job, and by all means, it was. You had accomplished your assignment of scaring up. You were sure he had released his bladder as he slid down the wall into a fetal position. Getting the money from a frightened man was going to be no problem.

Tonight was intended to be calm. You’d come home and shower and eat pizza and spend the entire night curled up in Natasha’s arms while she typed away on the computer. You’d listen to her breathing, her heartbeat.

Instead, she was roughly patching you up, buzzing with anger under her stare. “Why didn’t you take Clint?”

“Nat, I have a fantastic idea.”

“If it involves gutting that man alive and hanging him from a flagpole, then I am all in, darling.” Her words were light, distracted, as she wiped away a good portion of dried blood.

“What if we left things at the office, metaphorically speaking. What if we didn’t bring stuff like this home? Shut it all off.”  

She pulled back far enough to stifle her floral scent. There was an adorable crease between her eyes. “My mind doesn’t work like that, Malysh. This home is my office and vice versa. Someone hurt you and that is my business. That is my work.”

“I know,” you said, tucking a strand of fallen hair behind her ear. She glowered under her thick-framed glasses. You wanted nothing more than to kiss the frown off her face. “I know, but sometimes I just want to be with you.”

“Huh,”

“Huh?”

“Huh.”

This wasn’t exactly a constructive conversation. You figured as much when she ripped a bandage out of its waxy packaging and slapped it onto the gash against your temple. You let out a disgruntled noise and she grasped your waist and maneuvered you back to the floor. Your legs had fallen asleep and you were a little unsteady.

Natasha flicked on the sink and started scrubbing her hands of your blood. “No sex,”

“What?” You blinked at her, scratching fruitlessly at the adhesive on the bandage. It was incredibly itchy.

Natasha dried her hands on the nearby towel, “You heard me, no sex.”

“You… You’re withholding sexual pleasure because of something that happened at work?”

“Not something that happened at work, your refusal to talk about it.”

“Natasha,” You nearly whined.

“No sex!” She huffed, pointing towards the exit of the room “Go sleep on the couch.”

You dropped your shoulders in defeat. You had been banned to the couch? Your girlfriend didn’t’ withhold most things and the two of you had a very healthy and active life. There wasn’t true anger behind her words, instead she was testing you. Watching you until you give in.

“Fine,” You huffed, crossing your arms “The couch sounds lovely.”

“Good,”

“Great.”

“Fine.”

You grabbed the fuzzy blanket at the base of the bed and started to stalk towards the door. You could feel Natasha staring at you, waiting for you to turn around and apologize but it wouldn’t happen. Not this time. You were setting boundaries and if that included…no sex… then that was fine. It was fine.

“Zaychik?”

You turned back to Natasha, one eyebrow lifted, “Yes?”

“Leave the blanket.”

She gave you a sugary sweet smile before settling back into her previous position, pulling her computer into her lap. Your jaw was agape, but you tossed the blanket at her nonetheless and stormed out of the room.

The nerve, the absolute nerve!

Natasha wasn’t particularly hard to have a conversation with, but work was nearly untouchable with her. You knew that. She knew that. You did as you were told and protected her and her assets at all costs.

When you got back downstairs you fixed yourself a sloppy peanut butter and jelly sandwich before sulking back into the living room and flopping down onto the recliner in the corner. Yelena had since fallen asleep, and Kate was reading the book while her eyes grew heavy.

“You got kicked out, huh?”

“Kicked out, banned from sex.” You waved the sandwich around in the air “doghouse.”

Kate scoffed “the Romanoff sisters aren’t always the most forthcoming, are they?”

She was looking lovingly at Yelena, stroking her hair as the smaller woman curled deeper into her, fingers clenching at Kate’s flannel and then releasing as she settled back into a comfortable sleep.

“They make it hard to love them, but the moments where the mask slips and they’re vulnerable. Moments like these make everything worth it. And despite everything, you know they care. They’ll always care.”

“Sometimes too much,” you took a large bite of your sandwich.

“No such thing.”

Yelena stirred in her arms, nose pressed against Kate’s pulse point. She clenched her eyes tighter, her next words mumbled “Kate Bishop, if you don’t stop talking you will be sleeping on the couch with y/n.”

“Doghouse,” You said with a long sigh.

“Mm,” Kate hummed, letting out a quiet whisper “Doghouse,”

[Taglist🕷♡: @dumbasslesbi, @lostremind, @toouncreativeforausername @autorasexy @eringranola @mikookaaaaaao @marvelwoman-simp @pacmanmiles @mostlymarvelsstuff, @mrsrushman, @milfsandtittyenthusiast, @random-raccoon4, @ravenromanova, @mysticalmoonlight7, @ahintofchaos@cowboyboots236 @lissaaaa145, @natsxwife]

[urrockstar-xe]

if u leave me - j.m x fem!reader

posted jan 4th, 2024 2:08 pm

anon asked: hii can I request a fluffy jj x fem reader fic inspired by the song if you leave me by niall horan?  thank u!

this was so cute omg. I'm so sorry for the long wait but thank u for requesting<3 again so so sorry abt the wait

summary; jj can imagine life without you, which is how he knows he'd be miserable.

masterlist

word count: 1.7k

It was all so innocent

Well okay,

You did steal something from the store but! In your defense, it was not something the cops should be chasing you for!

That didn’t stop them though.

So suppose you shouldn’t be that surprised now as you ran down the road, just barely stopping yourself before you rain head first into JJ Maybank.

JJ was walking out of a store when you were suddenly two inches away from him, you knew each other of course. Both born and raised on the cut, both having some sort of reputation around the OuterBanks.

Both known by their first names by all of Kildare’s Sheriff’s Department.

“Oh shit” JJ muttered to himself once he realized who you were running from, watching as you laughed and then continued running. 

“Maybank! Should’ve known you were involved!” JJ turned his head towards the voice of one of the officers. “I knew I smelt bacon somewhere!” He called back, not quite getting the amused reaction he was aiming for before JJ turned back in the direction you ran, following after you.

Your accidental partner in crime.

You don’t what point you both had lost them but as you hid behind some old shack, all that was heard was out-of-breath giggles from the both of you, catching his breath JJ finally asked

“What’d you even take?” 

Another round of laughter was triggered after he watched you pull the small tube of pink lipgloss from your pocket. 

Something shifted that day, an actual friendship blossoming after the chase, dragging each other to parties, JJ picking you up from work on his motorbike, Spending most nights on the old trampoline in your backyard or in John B’s old hammock. 

“I don’t think I trust this thing to hold the both of us,” You remarked once, laughing as JJ pulled you into his arms anyway. “Do you trust me?” he asked, a smirk on his lips as you settled into his side. 

“No” 

That landed both of you in the grass after JJ pushed you off, not expecting you to pull him down on top of you. You both lay there, the sweet laugh falling from your lips as JJ shook his head, smiling down at you as he held himself up with his hands. Before you had time to react the feeling of JJ’s lips on yours flooded your senses, hands flying to his hair while almost desperately kissing back.

It’s getting repetitive how all but a handful of your memories together result in giggle fits 

and soft kisses.

speaking of handfuls though.

You and JJ never had an official label, not at first. You assumed of course that it was JJ’s choice, if he wanted you to be his girlfriend he would’ve asked, right? And he hadn't, it’s free game.

Especially when every time you looked over at JJ tonight, he was cozying up with some tourie and he has been the entire party.

It's your turn.

So, naturally, you shoved down any envy over the pretty girl next to your JJ and found yourself a kook. It’s not that you were trying to tick off JJ, really! You weren't! 

But if you had been trying to tick off JJ, what better way to do it than with a kook?

It was a matter of minutes, you had barely learned the kid’s name before JJ showed up behind him tapping his shoulder. You didn’t need to know JJ Maybank personally to know what his plan was as Jacob previously mentioned Kook turned to look at him. 

“You can fuck off man, she doesn’t need you to save her and take her to the dark side,” JJ said, his words with sarcasm as he got closer to Jacob, too close. John B’s attention was shifted to the situation JJ was starting from Kiara pulling on his sleeve and pointing, Pope and JB both moving forward slightly, just to pull JJ off or help if needed.

“Oh, you’re scared she’s gonna run off with someone worth it huh?” Jacob argued, earning your attention as you went to cut in and argue with him yourself but you were quickly cut off by the sound of JJ’s fist colliding with Jacob’s jaw.

The night ended with you cleaning JJ’s bloody knuckles in John B’s bathroom. 

“He was wrong” You muttered, gently wrapping the bandage around his hand. “What?” JJ’s gaze was soft as it landed on you, having previously been too occupied staring at the floor to give you so much as a glance. 

“Jacob was wrong-” JJ rolled his eyes, scoffing quietly, cutting you off in doing so. “Jacob? You remember his name?” “JJ will you just shut up for a second and listen to me please?” You all but got on your knees as you begged him to just listen. 

Finally, his eyes met yours, sliding himself off of the small bathroom counter so he was directly in front of you, hands going to your forearms and rubbing up to your shoulders in the comforting way he’d always do to you. 

He had shut up now, allowing you to take a breath and settle your hands comfortably on either side of his waist. “JJ, you are worth it, and Jacob’s a piece of shit, and had you not thrown any hits I probably would have because you are the most worth it” You explained quietly, nearly whispering, allowing the small space between you two to be filled with soft breaths and your words. 

And he kissed you again, with more feeling than ever before, and a silent promise of proving himself to be as worth it as you had known he was.

The summer before the big gold hunt had beaten any summer before it, and you failed in believing it wasn’t just JJ’s presence that made it so great.

You cheered for JJ as he tried to take on his biggest wave yet, watching as he instead crashed straight into the water you cautiously kept an eye on his flipped board before he came up from the water and flipped it upright, heading straight for you as you moved just slightly forward in the water so he wouldn’t have to swim so far. 

JJ pouted as you took off your sunglasses, keeping a hand on his surfboard so it wouldn’t move away as he leaned up just enough to press a soft kiss on your lips, more for his comfort than yours. 

“You almost had it, baby” You mumble against his mouth, before letting out a short squeal when JJ picked you up, hooking a hand under your knee to guide your legs around his waist as he looked up at you with a soft look that JJ always reserved for you. 

“I’m gonna get it next time” he mumbled back, tilting his head back when you ran your fingers through his wet hair to get it out of his face. “Yeah, you will. And I’ll be waiting here with your victory kiss” You smile at him as he moves slightly, turning you with him as he tries to get the sun out of his eyes.

“It helps havin' my cheerleader here” He responded, matching your smile when you set your heart-shaped sunglasses over his eyes.

What would he do if you left him?

That’s all JJ could think about after that day, what if you just up and left? Leaving him behind to beg on his knees every day for the rest of his waiting for you to come back,

Hoping you’d come back.

It kept him up some nights.

How easy it could be for you and how hard it’d be for him.

But this particular night was one spent in your bed. He had come over only 4 hours earlier, around 10. Knocking on your window and wordlessly leaning into you when you asked how he got a black eye. He knew how you’d react, you hugged him with all your strength, smoothing comforting hands up and down his shirt and muttering sweet words into his shoulder. He knew that you’d know exactly why he came over.

He needed you.

And like always you were right there.

JJ had only managed to sleep for 3 hours, waking up in a cold sweat after a shitty dream. He distracted himself with the way you looked, sleeping peacefully beside him, the moonlight coming through your window hitting your face just right. 

JJ was never one for really cuddling while he slept, he’d typically end up on one side of the bed, passed out laying on his stomach but somehow his arm always ended up across you, or his hand would be your back or stomach, no other part of him touching you but something touching you. 

He reached for you even when he was sleeping. 

But now, all he wanted was to be cuddled up next to you, on top of you, or sprawled across you, hugging you in any way he possibly could.

He really couldn’t help himself as he moved closer to your sleeping frame, carefully moving one of your legs and settling between them, laying his head on your chest. 

JJ really hadn’t meant to wake you up but he couldn’t help but sigh with relief once he felt your hand in his hair, hearing the difference in how your heart was beating, typically it would bring a sense of pride at the thought and confirmation that he could still make your heart race. 

You both lay there in silence, playing with JJ’s hair as he mindlessly toyed with the hem of your shirt. 

“I think I’d lose my mind if you left me” JJ’s soft and tired whisper broke through the comfortable silence you had created. “What?” Your voice was just as quiet as if speaking any louder was forbidden.

“Just” He started, pausing to sniffle, “just promise you’ll stay this close okay?” He asked, words almost getting stuck in his throat. 

“Baby-” 

“I just don’t know who I’d be without you” He sniffled again, one of your hands moving to his cheek and gently caressing his. Although you couldn’t see his face you could still feel the tears hitting your chest through your shirt. 

“JJ, my sweet love, I’m not goin’ anywhere, I’m right here with you.” You assured, feeling the soft kiss he left on your wrist as you continued running your thumb up and down his cheek. 

“I could never leave you”

[k2ntoss]

USING LIPSTICK

a/n ⭒ i saw this and i had to write it down, okay??? this first one with jason todd bc i can't help it, later i'll do one with dean (i'm insane, i know)

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, jason todd x f!reader, dirty talk, fingering (f receiving), degradation, size kink, spitting, slapping, hair pulling, breeding kink, unprotected sex, p in v, mention of jason's scars, etc.

word count ⭒2.774 (this was supposed to be short 😭)

jason is almost begging for you to go as his date to another wayne gala since the week started, you like them but not enough to attend so often as he has to go; wearing nice dresses and pretty makeup, the jewerly you have to pick and everything that comes with putting effort in looking good to spend time on a fancy party.

it's early, you've been all evening getting ready and now the burgundy dress sits pretty on your body, fixing it so the slit on your right leg is straight, your hair is done too all tied up in a pretty half up hair style and you're just missing the final touch for your makeup when jason comes into your room "you look fucking amazing, love" you turn around to find his eyes running along your curves, taking in every detail as he walks up to you "is it okay? it's not too much?" you ask while turning around again to give yourself a look on the mirror, smiling softly when jason gets behind you, hands on your waist while he towers over you.

"mhm, it's just perfect" his voice is low, eyes fixed on your reflex while you start doing a small winged eyeliner, the cap of your liner between your lips is making him think a bit too much until he lets out a soft grunt "do you think i should wear lipstick?" you ask him, the question triggers something inside of him when he looks at your lips, slightly parted as you pick up a lipstick from your drawer "or maybe lipgloss, what do you think, jay?" and jason thinks, he does have an answer but he tries to remain calm "lipstick can be smudged, doesn't it?" he asks, there's a light hint of tease on his voice and it makes you reply with a soft hum.

"then lipgloss, but which one" you wonder as you look at the things scatered over the drawer while jason looks at you, a small smirk on his lips before he leans in to press a playful kiss on your neck "i think i know which one" his hands wander on your waist, lifting your dress a little bit before letting the fabric fall just for his hands to run to your back, pulling down the zipper until your dress falls, pooling at your feet "jay..." you warn with a soft chuckle when he growls, looking at your body on the mirror.

"no bra, is it because of the dress or for me to touch you?" he asks in a sultry tone, finger gently tracing the outline of your figure until his big hands are cupping your tits "mhm, mostly because of the dress" you answer in a soft sigh, eyes closed at his touch on your body until he pulls away, taking your hips to make you stand a little closer to your drawer, jason kneels down and picks up the dress and leaves a playful kiss on one of your thighs "sure thing, doll". you see jason on the mirror, he walks until he leaves your clothes carefully placed on bed before he walks behind you; he looks amazing too, dressed on a black suit and a white button up shirt, a bow tie undone on the neck of his shirt is waiting to complete his fit but he's now pressing his hips against yours, half-hard cock grinding on your ass while jason's hands play with your lace panties, pretty red fabric being pulled softly as he bends you slightly against the drawer "i think you look fucking better like this, makes me want to use you until you can't keep your legs on the floor" his eyes are almost predatory now, fixed on your reflex as you wiggle your hips playfully.

"are we gonna arrive late again?" you ask him with a small pout, you know damn well you won't be on time but that's usual for you two because jason is always eager to fuck you before leaving to a gala. a soft scoff escapes his throat before he starts taking off his suit, followed by the sight of him undoing his shirt and then his pants; it has always been a dream to see your boyfriend naked in front of you, broad shoulders and chest, built body and that slim waist that made your mouth water, skin painted with scars but the most calling was that big Y shaped scar on his chest, you always loved to trace it with your fingers or to leave a trail of kisses before you sucked him off "like your views, princess?" jason's words are teasing, he knows the answer but he enjoys seeing you bite your lip and nod as your eyes roam over his body. one hand trails from your waist to your tummy, fingers drawing soft circles on your skin as he kisses your neck, nibbling on it softly and making you tilt your head to give him more room until his hand slides under your panties and his fingers start to caress your cunt, a small smirk when he feels your body reacting to his touch "you're so tempting, baby, that dress makes you look like you're begging to get dicked down... i wish i could just rip it and make you scream like a whore" his thumb is pressing on your clit as two more fingers slide up and down between your lips making you moan softly.

your hands are pressed against the wooden furniture, lips parted as a few sighs escape your mouth to his touch on your body driving you crazy, making you rock your hips on his hand "jason..." you call his name softly but it only earns you a quick glance and a raised eyebrow, you know what the man wants and it makes you shiver "sorry... sir, please" you ask softly and that makes jason's grin go wide "pretty little girl, want me to stuff my fingers on that greedy pussy? i bet you'd love to have my dick deep inside of you but you'll settle for my fingers, don't ya, bunny?" his voice is low and raspy, two digits teasing at your entrance and pushing ever so lightly before he slides them in, a laugh rumbling on his chest when he feels how wet he got you just with a few touches and a bunch of dirty things whispered into your ear but it's always like that because you can't help how much he turns you on, he knows what to do to get you on the mood and it takes jason just minutes until your legs are shaking a little, breath heavy while his fingers twist and move inside of you making a couple of noises that bring a bright blush to your face.

"look at you, baby, how small and vulnerable you look like this... with my fingers playing with you" jason's voice is almost a low growl as he squeezes your cheeks with his other hand making you look at youself all worked up in front of him, you do look smaller and then you're just wishing jason would pick you up to fuck you like a toy "uh, looks like someone is already thinking about what she wants me to do with her... this little pussy is clenching around my fingers" he taunts before pulling his digits out of you, a soft whine leaving your lips before he delivers a sharp slap on your cunt making you gasp and tremble. he laughs, pulling your panties down before he stands up again, his hand resuming on your pussy as he rubs your puffy lips, the wet sound making you want to look away "sir... i need you, please" you ask, obediently because you know that being a brat right now would only earn you being left all needy "need me, princess? you're being so good, aren't you?" jason asks and smirks when you nod enthusiastically, leaning in to press a quick kiss on your neck he pulls away to pull down his boxers and you can see him fisting at his hard rock dick, the sight making your mouth water and your pussy clench around nothing.

he stands right behind you, his hand guiding his tip to your entrance to start teasing you when he lets his dick slide between your folds grinding his hardness against you, it makes you moan but it's still not enough "i need you inside of me, please... sir, i need you to make me take your cock" a small pout decorates your lips as you look at him with pleading doe eyes, biting on your lip hard when he takes a handful of your hair, pulling it at the same time he thrusts in with a rough movement making you squirm and moan loudly " 's that what you wanted, baby? my dick inside of you?" jason asks into your ear as he starts moving his hips, free hand going to squeeze one of your tits, fingers pinching on your nipple while he strokes slowly and torturing for you to grow desperate "y-yes, sir, yes" you nod, your head falling back as he keeps hold of your hair messing it up, making your back arch in a weird angle that will probably let you sore the next few days but you can't help moan with a satisfied smile once he starts to move faster, his hand still kneading on your breast "fucking thight... your body is so perfect for me, doll, even your tits fit perfectly on my hands" jason tone is filled with pride and ownership, that only makes you mewl because you know your body is almost like made for him to fit on you in every possible way "you love how i talk to you, what a pretty dirty slut you are" he grunts in a harder thrust that makes you whine loudly, jason's hand leaving your chest to roam back between your legs to circle roughly on your clit for a few seconds before giving a hard slap against your swollen bud, it makes you clench like a vice dragging a gutural growl from your boyfriend's throat.

"you little freak! you enjoy when i slap that pussy, don't ya?" he mocks you, his cheek pressed against yours as he keeps pounding harder and faster almost as if he will never be able to fuck you again and oh, how it makes you even more needy "you're a sick whore, baby, bet you'll be squirting so hard if i slapped that pretty face of yours while i fuck your brains out" he has a filthy mouth but it only turns you on more and more, making you whimper in a silent plea for him to slap your cheek, desperate to see his hand print red on your face but instead he gives another sharp smack between your legs earning a tortured whine from you "jay! f-fuck... need you to slap my face, please" but he grunts, hand tugging your hair again as his gaze grows stern "how did you just called me, mhm? that's not how you should adress me when i'm giving you what you want or are you already too dumb fucked to think?" his voice is serious and it makes you shake your head "no, sir! sorry uh, i'm sorry" you pout, voice soft suddenly but it's probably a little late "your brain must be turned into a puddle already, how pathetic... just a needy whore, a sick brat" and jason gives hard and deep thrusts with each word, voice low and dominant.

"open your mouth. now" he demands as he pulls your hair again at the same time he smacks your pussy one more time, hand lingering over your sensitive bud as you do as he asked. mouth open and tongue sticking out while jason towers over you, he looks so intimidating it makes your inner walls thighten around his dick, a dry scoff escapes him before he spits into your mouth "swallow it, maybe that dirty mouth of yours deserves that if you want to speak like a slut" he grunts, eyes fixed on yours and a glint of lust when you swallow what he just gave you, letting out a loud moan when he presses a bruising kiss to your lips, biting and sucking on them.

jason brings his hand to your face, calloused fingers squeezing your cheeks again to make you open your mouth again for him to spit into it "that's better... obedient little whore" you moan, fingers scratching on the wood where your hands are still pressed, the mirror allowing you to watch your tense body from your hips to your head and jason behind you, his hips hammering against you while he keeps your head thrown back, crown almost pressed to his chest "can't even talk back, just a fuck toy for me to use and abuse" the words are messing with your foggy mind, making you tremble as you nod absentmindedly muttering jason's name like a mantra, his hand squeezing your face making your words sound muffled and sloppy but you stop when he spits over your sealed lips, leaving them shiny and looking just as filthy as the rest of your body when it was being used in this way; right then is when jason lets go of your hair, his hand moving your face to look at yourself on the mirror "your pretty lips look so good like that, mhm, better than any of those stupid lipglosses" he grins devilishly at your reflex and you can feel your body about to burst to his implication, your climax almost over you and he notices it in the way your inner walls convulse around his dick.

"it turns you on, huh? fucked up little slut, you're about to cum all over my cock for being treated like a stupid whore" he growls in a whisper behind your ear "go on, baby, cum for me" he urges with deep strokes that make him grunt at how thight your pussy clenches around him right before you scream his name when your climax washes all over you, body gripping on jason as a vice "that's a fucking good girl, huh, want me to fill up your needy cunt?" and you nod, breath heavy and struggled. his arm goes around your waist, keeping you on your feet when your legs are about to give up and his other hand goes back to play with your clit.

his thrusts grow sloppy, hips stuttering as he comes closer to his high "mhm, you love it when i breed you, right? gonna put a baby on you one of this days, gonna make you a mama" jason says in a sedative tone as he leans in to talk into your ear, it makes you cry from pleasure and need, his hand on your sensitive clit is making you squirm "god... yes please, sir, i wanna have your baby" a soft whimper escapes your lips turning into a full loud moan when he reaches his climax, his cock bursting inside of you as he paints your walls white with thick load of his seed, a grunt leaving his throat before he presses a long kiss on your shoulder.

"you're so fucking good for me, princess" he mutters with a smirk on his lips, jason's arm is still wrapped around your waist as he holds you on your tiptoes while you're both looking at your reflex "see? your lips look prettier like that... swollen and red from my kisses and shiny too" he teases before kissing your chin making you giggle softly "you're sick too, jay" you say with a bright blush on your cheeks before he lets you down and looks at the hour "we should get ready again now if we want to make it to the gala, baby"

you still have to get on your dress again after cleaning yourself, do part of your makeup again and brush your hair because "it looks better all loose, babe" is what jason says when he's ready and finds you struggling to get your half-up nice again. at least you know that your lips will remain red and swollen for a good part of the night and the gloss, that's something jason will have to fix every now and then when nobody around is looking at you both.

[deathbecomesthem]

You, Me, and Baby Make Three, Pt. 1

Pregnant!Reader x Partner!Eddie Munson | 3.9K

Summary: You and Eddie are at the end of your first pregnancy. Things take an unexpected turn. This story starts on day -3 to birth and will go through ~day 42 postpartum. It will be a realistic portrayal of first time parenthood.

Warnings: Pregnancy, blood, childbirth, pregnancy complications, gross body things that come along with childbirth and parenthood, financial insecurity, medical trauma, and all of the wonderful and terrible feelings that are a part of having a child. The good, the bad, and the very ugly. This story will have smut in the end. I'm only telling you this because I know that information sometimes means a person will otherwise not bother with a story. I should warn you, though - it will be an accurate portrayal of postpartum sex.

A/N: This is largely based on my own experiences as pregnant person and new parent. I'm writing and publishing this story without a whole lot of tidying of the story. It is what it is, and I'm very ok with that. Don't read this if you think it will trigger you in any way.

---

Day -3 to 0

You can almost reach it. You got down on your hands and knees in front of the large stainless steel refrigerator before you really thought about it. It was just a small thing, reaching under the behemoth cooling machine to get the errant bagel that fell off the baking tray. You’ve done it, or something close to it, hundreds of times before. Except this time, you can’t lay flat on your belly to reach under and grab at it with the tips of your fingers. You’re wondering if you’re even going to be able to get up off the tile at this moment.

“What the fuck are you doing?” An annoyed voice asks. You can’t even find it in yourself to be embarrassed, only relieved that someone is here to help you up. “Whatever’s down there can stay there. Don’t need you going into labor over a danish.”

“A bagel,” you answer back. You reach your hands out and let Beth, the opening barista, help you to your feet. “I didn’t think about it. I know, it’s stupid.”

“Well, I’ll leave a note at the baking station. ‘You’re super pregnant, you idiot. Stay off the floor.’”

You cock your head to the side and roll your eyes. You hate this. You hate people treating you differently. No, it’s more than that - you hate that you need to be treated differently. It’s not right. It’s just not. You are still in this body, and you can take care of it yourself. It’s not right that everyone gets to have an opinion about what you do with it.

“Well, I’m glad you’re here. I have an appointment with the midwife this morning. I came in early, I’ll be gone for about an hour. You’ll have to hold it down til the other girls get in.” You’re hanging your flour dusted apron on the handle of the already cooling oven doors, not waiting for a response from Beth. 

“You know, you can just take the day -” Beth doesn’t get far before you cut her off.

“You know the fuck I cannot just take the day. I need every second of work I can get before this kid pops outta me.” You’re telling her while still making your way to the back door, grabbing your bag on the way.

“I can’t believe Eddie lets you work like this.” Beth gets her last jab in, earning her your middle finger before you slam the large metal door closed on your way through the door and into the parking lot. 

You consider your hip pain on the ride to your doctor. It’s been getting worse. Every part of your body is heavy, all of the time. You wish you could be done with spending 9 hours on your feet 5 days a week. Truly, would a few hundreds of dollars matter? Probably not. There isn’t enough money for what’s coming, that’s something you’re certain of. And Eddie.

Eddie. Your sweet man. Oh, he does worry, it’s all he does right now. It’s why he’s pulling 50 hours at the factory, delivering pizzas 4 nights a week, and still doing guitar lessons on Saturdays. You want to tell him that it’s too much, that you need him to be happy. You need him with you more, holding and caring for you. Except. Except that there’s a baby on the way, and what you need is as much cash as possible. This is how the world works.

Your legs feel heavier than when you left the cafe as you swing them out of your car in the parking lot of the midwife’s office. Today, your ankles feel like full balloons ready to pop. Your feet hurt, but not from standing on them - they hurt because they feel too big for your shoes. You try not to think about the last appointment, when your midwife told you to keep an eye on the swelling in your legs, and how you ignored the advice. What could you do? Tell your body to stop retaining so much water?

The empty waiting room is a blessing, you don’t even have time to waddle to one of the cold, plastic chairs that line the walls of the waiting room. No time to flip through the glossy paged parenting magazines. The nurse brings you right back. You turn your face away from the scale as it registers your weight, follow her back into one of the rooms at the far end of the office.

“Alright, get a gown on, and then open the door. I’ll come back for your blood pressure.” The nurse is making her way out before you even have a chance to respond. You undress clumsily. You can’t get used to the way your weight is distributed, every day something changes in you. Your body expands and makes space for the thing that’s growing, that’s sucking the nutrients from your blood. You’ve come to think of them, the baby, as a kind of parasite. An unkind thought that you’ve kept to yourself.

You tuck your bra and underwear beneath the maternity pants and oversized blouse, and waddle to leave the door open a crack to indicate you’re once again modest. As modest as you can be with the back of your gown open to anyone that might move behind you. The paper under your butt crinkles as you move your thighs around to try to get comfortable. The nurse is back, and you wonder if she was standing in the hallway waiting for you to be ready for her.

She pulls the cuff down from the wall, and wraps it around your arm. With a finger at your wrist, she pumps air into the cuff. And pumps. And pumps. And pumps until it starts to get painful, and you feel a vague sense of panic, as if your arm might break open at the pressure. She mercifully releases the air just as you're gearing up to tell her it’s too tight. You look at her face, feeling your own features relaxing, waiting for her to tell you the numbers that are meaningless to you. Her eyebrows are pinched together, the first sign of anything more than vague politeness and professionalism.

“Why don’t you lay back, let me get you a pillow.” She pats the paper covered table behind you, and pulls out the extension at the foot end. She pulls a pillow, covered in a similar paper to your gown and the table cover, and sets it down by your head. “Janice will be in very soon.”

You do as you’re told. You lay back. You think about the look on the nurse’s face, and start to feel small rumbles of concern surge through you. Your heavy belly sits in your eyesight, so that when the midwife comes in, you can only see her cheerful face. The prickling of panic fades when you see her. A 65 year old woman that has birthed a countless number of babies, a motherly figure you’ve come to trust, she guides you through the strange wilderness of pregnancy.

“How’s mom feeling today, hm?” She asks as she wheels over the backless stool to sit next to you. Unlike during a doctor’s visit, Janice likes to sit and talk to you before she begins her examination. She told you on your first visit with her that it lets her understand what she should be looking for. Today, though, she’s looking at your ankles, and testing the skin while she waits for your answer.

“Oh, I’m tired. My skin itches. I can’t sleep. I can’t eat.” You’re listing your usual complaints, and see Janice nodding along. Normal complaints. 

“How’s baby? Have we been keeping track of movements?” Janice looks at you, her hand still feeling around your lower leg. She’ll know if you’re lying, so you don’t even try.

“I mean, I haven’t kept notes or anything, but I feel like it’s moving around all the time. Just before you came in, I swear there was a dance party going on in there.” As if to reiterate your point, a movement could be seen across the top of your belly. An elbow? A knee? 

“Good, good. That’s what I like to hear.” Her words seem a little hollow, and you know she’s holding back something. “You’re very swollen, though. I’m more worried about mom than baby right now. Have you been keeping your feet up when you can?” Janice is already on her feet, and heading to the counter to pull out a pair of vinyl gloves.

“Well. Sure, when I can. I’m still working, but after work I try to keep them up. Eddie found a recliner a couple of months ago, did I tell you that? It rocks when it’s upright, good for the baby, he said. It’s been a godsend to have that thing.” You’re just talking now, but Janice is still nodding along with your words.

“That’s good. It helps to have a supportive daddy at home.” Janice sighs, and smiles. Her lips are a thin line, and you feel your muscles brace for impact, “your BP is pretty high today, and I don’t like the look of your ankles. Your urine sample was normal, though, so we might just be looking at a bad day.”

You don’t say anything. You’re trying to remember what that means. It’s in the book, the one that Wayne bought you as soon as he found out about the baby on the way. A potential complication, oh shit, what was it called. It could be really bad, you’re remembering - low birth weight, birth complications, postpartum seizures, fetal and mother death. Shit, shit, shit, what is it called -

“Just to be safe, we need to treat this like it’s toxemia. That means partial bed rest for the next few weeks. You can come in three days from now for a BP check. We have a wonderful OB that comes in once a week, and we can squeeze you in to see him.” You can hear Janice’s words, but you lack understanding. You pick out one bit, and ask,

“Partial bed rest? I can’t work?” You ask Janice’s back. She’s rifling around in the cabinet about the sink. She finds what she’s looking for, bringing out the measuring tape so that she can see the fundal height of the baby. She gives you the same tight lipped smile as before as she works the tape around your middle.

“No, you can’t work. I’m sorry. We’ll know more when you see the doctor. For now, you’re staying with your feet up unless you’re going to the bathroom.” Her voice is soft, but firm. No room for argument. 

—-

You hear the van pull up outside the trailer. It’s Wednesday, that means he’s home tonight, not driving around town delivering pizzas to the people of Hawkins. You hope he won’t notice the puffiness around your eyes, you cried for an hour after you stopped at the cafe to turn in your keys. You looked at the checkbook balance while you sat in your car and wondered how you’d be able to afford groceries by the end of the month. This wasn’t in the plan. 

“If you happen to see the most beautiful girl in the world,” Eddie’s singing as he swings open the door, “tell her I’m sorry, tell her I need my baby!” He’s smiling and swinging his old lunch box. You can’t help but laugh at him, still dressed in his coveralls and hair pulled up in a ponytail. The hairnet and earplugs were left in the van, along with his safety glasses.

“You goon. Charlie Rich, huh? You’re edging closer to becoming Wayne’s twin every day.” 

Eddie comes over to you, and kisses your forehead, careful to not get his still grease stained hands on the chair. “Hello, beautiful. How are we doing tonight?”

“Mm, ok. I saw the midwife today.” You don’t like the way your voice sounds. You’ve thought about how to tell Eddie this news, and have decided that ripping the bandaid off is the best approach. No point in trying to soften things, especially if it ends up being serious. 

“And?” Eddie asks, looking down at you with expectation.

“And, go wash up.” You tell him, “we’ll talk over frozen pizza.”

You click the knobs on the oven to let it heat up. You decide to throw together a salad - just some iceberg, tomato, and cucumbers - as an attempt to get some vegetables into Eddie’s system. You try not to think about how you’re supposed to be keeping your feet up right now. Unless I’m going to the bathroom, you think. You shake your head and chop up a tomato. What an unreasonable expectation. 

You see the way his lips jut into a small and concerned frown, but he doesn’t say anything else. He just makes his way down the hallway to take his after work shower. You’re surprised to find that your legs feel even heavier now that you’ve spent the last several hours reclined on your chair. Eddie found the chair at an estate sale, and it’s been a godsend. It keeps you upright enough to ease your heartburn, you sleep better in the chair than your own bed these days.

Eddie’s back, smelling of Irish Spring and fabric softener, just as you’re putting the pizza into the oven. He walks up behind you as you shut the oven door, and wraps his hands around your belly. The baby, Eddie’s sure that it’s a boy, moves around as if to get its father’s attention. 

“He’s really movin’ in there.” Eddie’s rocking you back and forth, slowly. You close your eyes and lean your head back into his chest. If you could live your life between his arms, you would do it. This is your home.

“Yeah, ready to make a break for it.” You tell him. You turn the dial timer to 15 minutes, and say, “the midwife says the baby’s fully cooked now. Just putting on some extra weight. I could give birth tomorrow, and it’d be ok.”

“Oof, tomorrow? Let’s hope not.” Eddie kisses the top of your head and slaps your ass. “Go sit down, woman. I’ll bring you some lemonade.”

You do as you’re told, you waddle your way over to the lumpy couch and put your feet up. Eddie follows behind you at a much quicker pace, glass of lemonade in his hand. It’s sweating already, the ice can’t keep up with the warmth inside the trailer. You look over to the small air conditioner in the corner and wonder if it’s even worth running the thing. The space is too big, and it just adds more money to the electric bill. Eddie sits at the end of the couch, and hands you the lemonade before taking your feet and placing them on his lap.

“So. What are you not telling me?” He asks, working his thumb into the bottom of your foot. You sink lower, giving him better access to your sore feet. They’re so swollen tonight, you feel like your skin might burst.

“Don’t overreact,” you pick up your foot and point a toe at his face. He grabs it again, and sets it down on his lap. “My blood pressure was high. I’m on partial bed rest. I have to go see the OB in three days.”

Eddie hands freeze for a second, and then his thumb begins to work on your foot again while he absorbs the information you just gave to him. “What does that mean? Partial bed rest? Do they think you have - shit, what’s it called?”

“Toxemia. Yes, the midwife said maybe. But it’s ok, because we’re fully cooked,” you point two fingers at your swollen belly, reminding him that the child inside could come out at this very moment and be fine, if a little small. “We’ll know better in a couple of days. I just need to keep my feet up and keep track of any really bad headaches. But I haven’t had those. I really think it’s fine, Eddie. I just hate that I can’t work.”

“You should’ve stopped working a month ago,” he looks over to you with an expression of slight exasperation. This is not the first time this idea has come up between the two of you. “I told you, that’s why I started working at Gino’s. You do too much.”

“Stop. Do not lecture me, Eddie Munson. I’m fine. I’ll do what the midwife says, and lay on this couch, or in the bed, or in the recliner, until I can get this thing out of me.” 

“Yes, you fucking will. And no more making dinner. I’ll figure that shit out.” As if to put an exclamation on his statement, the kitchen buzzer goes off, and he’s up before you can even consider moving. “Stay.” He puts a hand out before making his way across the room and behind the counter that separates the living room from the kitchen. 

—

Day 0

Eddie took the day off of work. When he told you he was coming to your appointment with you, you had put up a fight. You had argued. You had gotten unreasonably annoyed at the idea that he thought you needed him there. The pain inside your skull, a sneaking thing that had begun to keep you up at night, beat a steady rhythm at the idea of Eddie seeing you in that vulnerable position. 

It’s so unfair. The days of bed rest have done nothing but steadily increase your irritation about everything. Your situation. The too warm trailer. The fact that you can’t make yourself anything more than a sandwich to eat, or Eddie will scold you like a child when he comes home after work. He’s like a detective, looking for any clues of potential bad behavior. The worst of it all, though, is that Mrs. Reynolds has been assigned to take care of you. The elderly woman that lives in the trailer between Wayne and the Johnsons comes down every day to bring you egg salad, or tuna noodle casserole, or whatever other concoction she’s decided is appropriate for the poor pregnant girl.

You had not expected Eddie to pull 10 hour shifts, followed by extra hours at Gino’s following the news of your bed rest - but you should have seen it coming. The financial anxiety is getting to him. Where you carry the weight of your unborn child, he carries the weight of expectation. You see it written all over his face, and no amount of reassurance that you’re fine, and you’ll be back to work in no time, eases the deepening creases on his beautiful face. 

This morning, you don’t think about that. You don’t think about the fear that he’s feeling. You ignore your own fear, and allow irritation to take over. That irritation gives you a sense of control, of power over a situation in which you have no authority. Your body is not your own, and its betrayal is something you can never forgive. Today, you will go see this doctor, and he will show you exactly how out of control you really are.

—

“Good morning. I’m Dr. Seiver.” A man about your age comes strolling into the exam room. He zeroes in on Eddie sitting in the chair beside the exam table and offers his hand. You fight against an urge to scoff. “Let’s take a look. Scoot down, please.”

You scoot down, holding onto the paper blanket that covers your naked lower half. Eddie’s seen your naked body many times before, but never like this. And, this doctor, Dr. Seiver, has probably seen hundreds of naked women. You wonder if he looks at the naked body of his lover with cold medical appraisal.

You look over and see Eddie’s eyes are wide, and you can feel your skin burn with embarrassment. He must have known that his insistence at being present for this appointment meant that he would watch a doctor stick his fingers into your vagina, but maybe not. You hadn’t prepared him beforehand, too annoyed to bother.

Speculum, vinyl gloves, and lubricant on two fingers, the doctor continues to talk with no preamble, “your blood pressure is more elevated than the other day, and I’m sorry to say that your urine dip this morning showed protein. So,” he’s looking over to Eddie now while his fingers dig deeper into your vagina until they hit a wall, “we need you to leave here and go straight to Mercy to be induced today. No need to risk it, not while you and baby are in good shape.”

The pain shocks you to your core, a deep ache that you are not at all prepared for. Tears flow down your cheeks, and you let out a small sob. Eddie’s hand is on your arm, and he’s looking at your face with confusion. The doctor is unaffected, and pulls his now bloody fingers out of you and says -

“That should get you going. I manually dilated your cervix, it will make this process go a lot quicker and maybe we won’t need to load you up with too much pitocin. Just head over to Mercy, the maternity ward is on the 4th floor.” The doctor is up on his feet, peeling bloody gloves off and disposing them into the red biohazard waste bin on the wall, “there are pantyliners in the top drawer over here, you might bleed for a little while.”

And just like that, the doctor was gone, leaving you with your legs spread on the table and tears streaming down your face. You’re going to have a baby today. You turn to look at Eddie, his hand is still clenching your arm. He’s pale, the blood drained from his face completely. You would swear that the lines of his face are even deeper than they were when you got in the car this morning. You wipe your face with your free hand, and sit up.

“Ed, come on.” You’re suddenly anxious to get moving. Get on the road, and into a hospital bed. Let the professionals take over. “It’s ok. Why don’t we call Wayne on the way out. He can meet us at the hospital.”

Eddie stands up, helps you to your feet. You see him sway a little bit and wonder if it was the sight of your blood that did this to him, or if it’s the thought that this baby is actually real and he’ll be holding it in his arms in less than 24 hours.

“I, uh, are you ok? That guy was an absolute asshole,” Eddie’s helping you get your clothes back on. He helps you with your jeans, and then sits you in the chair and starts working on getting your shoes on your feet. You are overwhelmed with love for him, bent down on his knees in front of you, jaw clenched in anger and frustration at the way you’ve been treated today. 

“I’m ok. I’m glad you’re here, baby. I’m sorry I was such a bitch about you coming.” 

Arm in arm, the two of you walk through the hallways and through the front door of the medical building. You think it might be your imagination, but the child inside of you feels like he’s lower than he was when you entered. The doctor, with his cruel fingers, cracked the door, and the baby is making its way down.

[aphroditestempleimagines]

The Strongest

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x Reader x Suguru Getou - 18+

Words: 3419

Warnings: language, passionate sex, rough sex, vaginal fingering, oral sex (fem! & m! receiving), orgasm denial, overstimulation (tiny bit), threesome, satosugu , orgasm delay, nipple play, established relationship

Summary: Your engagement to the heir to the Gojo clan has been arranged since you were young. Yet you can't help but realize that Satoru himself does not seem to care, neither about duty nor about you. In your sorrow, you slept with his old, now criminal, friend Suguru Getou. That finally got Gojo to admit his love for you. But now that Getou had a taste of happiness he simply cannot let go. This is the smut part.

Colour: Hot & rough (Guess who's rougher)

His love series - part 4

Author's note: I'm guessing this is what y'all been waiting for. Also apologies to the people who made the gifs.

"Hello?", you cried at the empty house. You looked door by door in the Gojo's family estate to find nothing but silence. As you arrived at the master quarters you felt the slight vibrations of sorcery trigger your body. You turned, spell in hand, only to stop inches before striking your fiance in the face; perhaps you should not have stopped yourself, you thought, given how he snuck up to you.

Satoru smiled. He clasped your hand in his and planted a kiss on your palm before pulling you against him. "I heard my girl got promoted to special grade today", he wrapped his arm around your waist.

"Yeah, they just told me", you chuckled as he showered you with kisses up and down your neck.

"I don't know about grade, but you were always special to me", he whispered in your ear.

His hands roamed down your torso as he used his body to push yours on the wall. He hiked your leg over his hip, pushing his knee on your clothed core. His other hand unbuttoned the top of your uniform, his lips leaving a trail of red blossoms as they travelled further down your chest.

"You know", he said, "I'm starting to feel threatened by you my love"

You chuckled. He was not being serious, you knew that, and yet when you looked into his crystal blue eyes you could not help but doubt your own reason. A shadow fell over you. You looked to your right and was met with Suguru's large frame, leaning over the wall next to you with one arm resting over your head. You shook Satoru off, trying to cover up as you laughed in embarrassment, but the sorcerer held you in his arms. You only managed to twirl around in Satoru's embrace, him pulling your back flush against his chest, placing more kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

"Suguru", you laughed nervously, "I'm really sorry, I don't know what's gotten into him"

Suguru raised one of his eyebrows. "Don't you?", he said suggestively.

"We had a disagreement", Satoru rested his chin on your shoulder, "See, Suguru here believes you deserve a reward for your new position. I on the other hand cannot help but be overcome with a need to fuck you until you can't stay awake anymore"

Your breath caught. "So-"

"So we decided to do both", Suguru leaned over you. He glided his thumb over your skin, from the tip of your chin down your neck and collarbone until it dug under your bra, pulling it -and you- forward. "If you'll have us", he said. He kneeled down in front of you, pulling your right leg over his shoulder. He kissed your thigh over your black tights, his lips dangerously close to the trim of your skirt.

"Of course she will, she's been craving this since the day you moved in with us", Satoru unbuttoned your top all the way down. His hands dove under your bra to cup your breasts. He pulled you flush against his chest, close enough for you to feel everything he felt for you. His teeth nibbled on your ear. "You're so greedy", he groaned in your ear, "I love it".

You threw your head back when Suguru's thumb pressed over your clothed entrance. "She needs to somehow compensate for your small-OW", Satoru kicked Suguru's leg.

"What do you think my love?", he made sure you knew Suguru was lying.

You chuckled. He was just asking for it.

"Suguru's bigger", you smiled at him.

"OH IS HE?", Satoru chuckled as he picked you up. You yelped and laughed when he threw you over his shoulder, carrying you off to the bedroom. Suguru shook his shoulders. You had brought it on yourself.

Satoru let you down lightly on the bed, immediately climbing on top of you. His hands cupped your face, his legs caging your body. His lips captured yours in a deep kiss that seemed to last an infinity. "Wanna put it to the test while I eat you out?", he growled as he nibbled on your lower lip.

Suguru peeled him off of you. "You're going to let her sit on your face", he said, his hand on Satoru's throat.

"And why would I do that?"

"Cause I wanna see it", Suguru kissed Satoru before pulling him away and forcing him onto the bed. He gave you his hand and pulled you against him, taking your lips in his own. "I'll make sure he behaves", he gently lifted your chin before turning his gaze to your fiance. "Won't you Satoru?", he cried.

Satoru clicked his tongue in response. He sat on his knees, his hands tracing the curve of your waist until they wrapped around your torso, pulling you once more against him. His hand reached from behind to lift your chin and let you face him. His lips hovered over yours, close enough to feel his breath yet too far to reach. "Do it", he said with a smirk, "See what happens".

Before you could respond he let his body fall back on the mattress, crocking his finger at you. You hesitantly moved your hips toward him before his hands pulled you over his face. A yelp escaped you as he tore your tights at the crotch to reach the wetness of your panties. He pulled their soft fabric to the side, his tongue reaching to trace the lips of your folds.

Suguru's hand cupped your cheek. He drank your next moan and all the rest in a fervent kiss. Your lack of attention turned Satoru livid; he plunged his finger inside your core, scraping and curling at all the spots he alone knew would have your knees trembling. He lapped at your juices like a starved man as he pinched your bud. Soon, you could not concentrate on Suguru anymore, your body falling forward as you panted over Satoru's abs.

"Sat...or...sator...", you tried saying his name, but your breaths were too erratic to let you form words.

Getou's crooked finger hooked underneath your chin. "Is he doing a good job princess?", he whispered, placing a soft kiss on the bridge of your nose, "Shall we make him feel good too?"

Suguru palmed Satoru over the trousers. The latter groaned as his length grew harder, his voice vibrating against your folds. You bit back a moan.

"Let him hear you, baby", Suguru breathed as he sucked on the skin of your neck. He held your left breast in one hand and freed Satoru's length with the other. His thumb brushed over the tip.

Satoru breathed hard, but he did not want to stop; he would not let Suguru distract him from proving his point. He adjusted you on top of his, spreading your folds with his thumbs before plunging his tongue inside. You could feel him smirk as he pulled moan after moan from your body. Suguru wrapped his arms around you, his lips attacking your nipple until he scattered all logic from your mind. Satoru continued pumping two of his long fingers inside your core and pretty soon you were unravelling on his plump lips.

Your body bent in half, chest heaving as you rested your head on his hips. You felt Satoru's lips kiss your inner thigh and you shot up from the bed, fearful of crashing him. He reached out for your waist as you turned to check on him and pulled you back on the bed. He crashed his lips onto yours.

"Look at the mess you made", his thumb brushed over his lower lip, gathering some of your essence that dripped from its rim. He made a show of licking his thumb, his face only inches away from yours.

"Is our girl feeling nice?", Suguru gathered your hair away from your shoulder, revealing a patch large enough to kiss.

"Yes", you breathed.

Suguru leaned over your ear, his fingers tracing the front of your torso. "Will you let me taste you next?", he whispered.

Satoru pulled you away. He kissed you as he lifted you up, his length teasing your core. "No way", he said against your lips, "We're not done here"

"Satoru", you combed his silver hair before taking his face in your hands. You gave him a sweet kiss before pushing him down on the mattress.

You continued kissing him as you pulled open his uniform, all the way down to the waist of his trousers. His length was still hard and painful. You planted a kiss on the side before giving it a couple of pumps. Satoru trembled a bit. You moved your kisses until you reached its tip. You gave a knowing look at Suguru. He smiled before he plunged two of his digits into your core, his lips kissing all around your entrance.

You turned back to Satoru. "I want you to feel good too", you took his length between your lips.

Satoru tensed. He threw his head back as you hollowed your cheeks. "God, y/n", he covered his bright blue eyes with his hand. His hips chased your lips every time you pulled away.

Suguru scissored his fingers inside you, stretching you enough for his tongue to snake inside your folds. You moaned against Satoru's length, causing him to toss his trembling hand on your hair. Gojo did not hold any sound back; he made sure you knew exactly how you made him feel, either by vocalizing his lust or pulling you closer over his member.

You felt Getou's silent chuckle as it broke on your skin. He picked himself up, his hands still pleasuring you, and began planting kisses on your spine. Your back arched as his teeth scrapped along the bone-line. You let go of Gojo, your head dropping down to pant Suguru's name.

"Don't distract her Suguru or I'll put it in your ass instead"

Geto's sweet laughter rang in your ears. You moved your hand up and down Satoru's length. "I'm fine", you kissed him on the side.

"Oh are you", you jolted as you felt Suguru's length press on your entrance, "Now that just won't do". He traced your lower lips with the tip of his length, never breaking in, until he had you shuddering. "I want you ecstatic", he said, "I want your mind washed blank from pleasure"

"Suguru", you whined, "Please"

"Please what, princess?"

"Ple-ah"

He slowly plunged his length inside you. He let it drag over your walls as he pulled out only to thrust further in. It took him a couple of times doing that before you had fully enveloped him and he set up a pace that had your toes curling.

Your mind tried concentrating on working Satoru's length, but Suguru felt too good inside you to form coherent thoughts. A hand cupped your cheek; Satoru sat up to peer into your eyes. The light in his bright blue trembled with need.

"You're so beautiful", he breathed as he pulled you in for a deep kiss.. "God", he groaned as he bit your lip, "I could look at that face every day"

You arms wrapped around Satoru's body as Suguru picked up his pace. Your ear was pressing against his heart, its beats louder than anything you had ever heard. Gojo ran his hand over your back, soothing his friend's hard thrusts. Between half-lidded eyes, you noticed Satoru's pain and remembered what you had been doing. You bent down and took him back between your lips, eliciting a groan.

"GAh...you better make our girl come Suguru", he said, his head falling back, "Fuck, y/n!"

"If you keep squeezing me like that princess I'm not gonna last", he said but picked up the pace.

His grip was gentle as he held you, trying his best not to bruise your delicate thighs, yet he moved his hips in a feverish rhythm that escalated in tune with your voice. He lifted your hips a little, the new angle hitting your G-spot. Your shriek was muffled as you gagged on Gojo's length. Geto reached down to press circles on your bud, his hand moving fast.

"Suguru!", you cried before Satoru pulled you back on his length.

Gojo's hand held your head, his fingers softly twirling your curls as he moved his hips. His face twisted in pleasure at every moan you let out on his length. You could not remember the moment Getou broke the knot that he had tied in your core, but you could certainly tell when Satoru was thrown into a world of ecstasy. His hand grabbed you tighter as he panted your name, your mouth filling with the product of his love. He pulled you up, still breathing hard, his thumb tracing your dripping chin. His lips conquered yours and he tasted himself in your kiss.

"Oh Suguru look at the view you're missing"

Satoru slightly turned your head. To the already desperate Suguru that was enough to send him over the edge. He stilled inside you, his hands holding your hips flush against his. You felt the warmth of his essence fill his condom as he pulsated within your walls. His warm breath exploded on the skin of your back, his loving lips planting kisses on your tailbone.

"Think you can take me too, my love?", Satoru pulled you off Suguru.

"Give her a moment prick"

"I will", Satoru kissed your forehead as he softly laid you on your back. He opened your legs and sat between them, his fingers tracing your fluttering folds. He observed your expressions change as he filled your thigh with hickeys. "That was weak, Suguru", he smirked, his thumb pressing on your clit, "There's barely anything here"

"Oh really?", he tossed a condom at his friend.

"Yeah", Gojo gave you light kisses as his hardness pressed on your entrance until it snaked inside. He observed your face as he moved all the way in. Your hands wrapped around his torso, your legs straddled his waist from below. "Y/n, look at me"

You turned to look inside the blue depths of Satoru's eyes. He touched his forehead to yours, his length slowly thrusting inside you.

"Look at me", he said again, breathing against your lips, "Look into these eyes that want you"

His kiss was desperate, his pace phenomenal. Your ears filled with Suguru's "fuck"'s and moans. His head thrown back on a chair, his hand on his length and his eyes fixed on your form, he breathed hard and called your names as pumped himself in tune with Satoru's thrusts.

"Ah, you're squeezing me", Satoru said against your neck, "If you make me come too early it'll be over for you". He stilled his hips, his fingers digging in the skin of your thighs to keep you in place. "Just like that", he said. He had not come. His eyes were blazing with last, his cheeks hot and red. Yet his hands would not let you, or himself, move.

"Satoru...", you struggled

He leaned close, trailing kisses on your collarbone. "That's it, say my name again", his thumb caressed your cheek.

"Satoru..."

"Say that you love me", his hand wrapped around your neck, "Promise you'll never leave my sight"

"I won't. I love you S .."

He pumped his hips once. "These eyes can't survive without you gazing at them", he said as he nipped on your chest. You heard a chair move.

"You're too rough", Suguru shoved Satoru away.

"You're too nice", Satoru continued nipping at your breasts with his hand around your throat.

"Satoru....move", you tried to wiggle your hips towards him but to no avail.

"Don't worry, princess, he will", Suguru stood behind Satoru and pulled him back by the shoulder. He planted a love bite on his neck at which Satoru groaned. Suguru pulled your leg around Satoru's waist, his clothed hardness rubbing against his back.

Satoru pulled your hands over your head. He breathed hard as Suguru entered him. You trembled as he twitched inside you. And every thrust of Suguru, Satoru had no choice but to move inside you. Your hands grasped at the silver locks of your fiance.

"Fuck Suguru", Satoru groaned, "Let me make my point, I'll do you later"

Suguru pulled him up. "Be nicer", he gave him a kiss.

Satoru frowned. He took a look at your heaving form before pushing Suguru back. He leaned closer again, planting sweet kisses on your face. "I don't know if you mean it when you say you love me but I don't give a shit anymore", he whispered, "I love you. And I can't live without you". He picked up a steady pace. "Don't you see Suguru?", his thrusts grew hard and precise, marking his every word, "She's a special grade now. And you want me to be happy? She'll take more difficult and dangerous missions. I already worry about you, now I have to worry about her too?"

"I'm...I'm not made...of glass", you struggled to put together as Satoru's length kissed your G-spot.

"I know. I don't care. Shit happens", Satoru cupped your warm cheek, "I want you. I want us, all of us, to be like this forever. Don't you?"

"Satoru"

"Open your eyes, baby"

You had not realised you had closed them. Satoru's face was peering over you, close enough to touch. "Promise me you'll put yourself first", he panted, "Fuck the world"

"For once we agree", Suguru came up behind you, planting a kiss on your swetened forehead.

"Promise me you'll be selfish", he kept your legs in place around him as he pounded inside you, "Promise you'll come back every time"

"You wouldn'-"

He stopped thrusting, keeping his length inside you as he circled his hips. "I need two words from you baby", he leaned closer, "Two words and I'll have you creaming on my cock"

"Suguru"

"No princess he's right", he kissed your hands, "I need to hear it too"

"I- I promise"

"Good", Satoru captured your lips again. He drunk in your shriek as he resumed his thrusts, his hips slapping hard against yours. "I need you", he said, "If you stray from your word I'll just fuck you so hard before every mission that you won't be able to walk there"

"Satoru"

He groaned as you squeezed him. "And if you ever die on me I ll find you in the next life and fuck you stupid"

"SATORU!", your orgasm hit you hard, your form shaking underneath Satoru's body. He kissed your neck as your arms searched for his to hold. "Fuck Satoru", tears fell from your eyes as you tried to calm your trembling body down.

He showered your nose with kisses. "I'd say that was the best I've done my love"

"More than...oh my God'

He bit your lip. "Remember your promise", he whispered, "I'm being serious"

"Either let me finish or come suck me off", Suguru nudged Satoru.

You weakly sat on your elbows. "I'm sorry Suguru I-"

Satoru's lips stopped the rest of your sentence from spilling. "No you don't go kneel to that bastard", he said. "These lips are mine alone", he traced his thumb over your mouth before doing the same to your entrance, "It already hurts me sharing these".

"You're both mine", you pulled him close by the nape, "Not the other way around"

"Fuck yes we are, you vixen", he bit your lip before pulling away to face Suguru, who had returned to spreading his body on the bed, back on the frame. Gojo leaned down to take Suguru in his mouth. "You're enjoying this too much", he told Getou, "You're next on my list you know"

"Oh you have no idea-ah", he breathed out a sigh of pleasure when Gojo ran his tongue down his length.

You lay on the bed, too weak to stand. Yet you could not help but rub your legs together at the sight of your mens' faces as they fell apart. A hand crept its way between your thighs. You startled. You looked to the side and saw Satoru winking at you, his fingers pressing on your entrance before your legs allowed him inside. You flipped on your back so he could pleasure you with ease.

"God, y/n", Suguru groaned, "I'm never gonna get rid of this ha-"

"Shut up", you moaned as Satoru sped up his thrusts. You ran your hands over your breasts, your hips riding his hand. The night was only just beginning.

[buckysbabygorl]

Punching Bag (Bucky Angst)

Summary: As much as Bucky can't stand Y/N, he's tired of her taking all the blows on the field. They have to come up with a plan.

Word Count: N/A

“Get your hands off me.”

She shoved him away, as best she could given her state.

“I can do it myself.”

She took the med kit from his hands, in her drunken stupor she stumbled to the dining table, fumbling with the latches on the case.

Bucky was tired. All he wanted to do was sleep after a long—god awful---day and put the mission behind him.

He dropped his mission bag at the doorway.

“All you’re going to do is make it worse. I don’t need you waking up tomorrow complaining about your drunken hack job.”

She glared at him, pulling out supplies.

“Sober or not, I can stitch myself up fine. Just because I’m not an army vet doesn’t mean I don’t know basic field medics.”

She mumbled something more under her breath; probably dick or asshole, some of her common artillery when insulting him.

He didn’t need this. He really didn’t need this right now. Today had been hard, and for Bucky that was saying something. Whether it was being back in Russia, during its coldest and iciest period of the season; or being stuck with the person he loathed the most, he wasn’t sure what had triggered him.

But he was on edge and exhausted, and he wanted this night to end.

Then she had to go and get stabbed of all things, and now this dark hour was dragging on and on and on...

It was then Bucky realized that this sad excuse of a safe house would not give him enough space from her. It was a bachelor style apartment, something small enough that would never catch the eye of enemies, tucked away in an complex that was filled with much more shady individuals that them. There was a kitchenette, a dining table with two chairs, and a couch that pulled out. There was also a rickety old rocking chair, which looked far from comfortable.

This night wouldn't get any shorter.

“Ow.”

She stabbed her self softly with the needle, swaying slightly as she tried to stablize herself.

“Jesus Christ," Bucky said, "did you even wash your hands?”

“Fuck you.” She retorted.

His jaw tensed as he stopped himself from raising his hands, he wanted to tear his hair out strand by strand.

Why was she always so fucking argumentative?

“Would you stop saying that?”

He strode across the room, kneeling in front of her chair and grabbed her arm.

She attempted to pull away from him, which was stupid to do with a needle in hand.

“Let go.” She demanded.

She pulled back, hard, and Bucky gripped her forearm.

“Will you just—enough.” His voice stern and commanding.

She halted, slightly hazey and swaying. But she stopped.

Bucky let out a frustrated sigh.

“For once, can you just shut up and listen? For five seconds, can you do that?”

She blinked slowly at him, pursing her lips.

He recognized that look in her eye; it was always followed by a sly grin, a tilt of her head that said “what are you gonna do about it, Sergeant?”

This time, she slumped back into her chair. She relaxed her arm and used the other to shove the kit towards him.

“Fine. Do your worst. I don’t give a shit if you leave a scar.”

He waited a moment, to see if she’d say something more or change her mind, maybe smack his hand away one more time.

But she didn’t.

So Bucky picked up the needle and went to work.

She didn’t look at him while he stitched her up, remaining in her dead stare as she looked straight at the wall.

She winced a few times but said nothing.

After a few minutes, the quiet made Bucky’s skin itch.

“Why did you jump at her, anyways? I had it covered.”

Y/N closed her eyes, inhaling through gritted teeth.

Responding wasn’t worth the effort, so she shrugged.

“Really? You’re not going to say anything?” He asked.

She groaned. “Does it matter? Not like I can do anything about it now.”

He shook his head, continuing as if he hadn’t heard her. “--And downing a bottle of tequila won’t make you feel better.”

She bit the palm of her hand as he worked his way along her side.

Her breaths stuttered as she inhaled.

“Hurts less.” She mumbled.

He paused a moment.

He remembered what that felt like. How much these kind of things could hurt you. He could imagine the pain she was going through, he could see it in her face. But he tried to ignore it. He was still mad at her.

“I don’t get you. You do this every time, you’re not invincible you know—”

She slammed her hand on the table.

“I know that! Jesus, you tell me every time—AH!”

She pulled away from him, hurting herself as he had tightened a stitch.

He looked up as his hands steadied her, and his voice softened.

“Y/N, sit still...”

Her head was turned away from him, but he could still see the corner of her eye and the downturn of her lip.

He hadn’t realized she’d been crying.

He tilted his head down, biting on the inside of his cheek. Best to just get this over with.

“Just… sit still. I’m almost done.”

They fell into silence again. The winter snow was building up on the safe house windows, the wind pounding against the panes.

He tried to shut it out. But it was either listen to the howling storm or rehash the scenario in his brain.

Her voice came over his ear piece, she told him to watch his six; that agents were entering through the south wing of the building. He ignored her, he had it covered.

She must’ve taken his silence the wrong way; she figured he was in danger. She was like that, she’d assume the worst and abandon her post to cover. Fuck, why did she have to do that…

“Did you get a hold of Sam?”

Surprised by her question, Bucky looked up from his hands. She still wouldn’t turn to face him.

“Called him while I was walking back. Said he can get a jet in a 4 am. With the storm it’s hard to get here—”

She winced again. He groaned.

“Stop moving.”

She awed at the ceiling and clenched her hand into a fist.

“My god, would it kill you to have some sympathy?”

He tied off the suture and snipped the thread.

“I don’t have sympathy for idiocy.”

She scoffed, “Fuck you.”

Which she had said for the umpteenth time today.

He decided to ignore it. But he was still fuming, still angry at her… why, why would she do that?

He should’ve watched his six, he knew he should’ve.

They came up behind him, 4 out of the 6 agents had decided to cover his wing.

He was holding his own, but the one was smart. Patient. Waiting while the others hammered Bucky with brute force to deliver a fatal blow. She had been aiming for his right side, probably trying to stab between his right ribs or his into his spine…

“You know, normal people say thank you.” He nodded to her left side, where 10 stitches sat neatly in line.

“I could say the same thing to you.” Her words were icy, she nearly spat them at him.

Bucky scoffed. “Why should I thank you? I had it covered, you jumped in and now I have to patch your drunk-ass up—”

“I did it because it’s instinct. I saw my partner outnumbered and I saved your ass. Sorry it’s an inconvenience to you because I’m not a goddamn super soldier.”

The slam of his hand on the table made her jump, and her eyes went wide at the thought that he might actually make her shut up for once.

"You can't throw yourself in a fight where you'll get more hurt than I will."

His eyes faltered when he looked at her, "We... we talked about this Y/N--"

Silence fell between them again.

She fumbled with the bottle cap on the table, and Bucky stood still at her side.

He didn't know what more to say, and she didn't know how to respond.

Because he was right, they had talked about this before many times.

There were never tender moments between the two, but the closest they'd ever gotten to something like that was usually Y/N's recovery. They were paired together more often than not; aside from them loathing one another, they were extremely compatible.

But each time they teamed up, something like this happened.

Y/N would get stabbed, she'd get shot, she'd break a bone or two, she'd pick a fight that was out of her depths.

He'd get mad and so would she, then a day or two would pass and he'd watch her struggle with something. Whether it was taking the stairs, or doing her physio, or getting back into training...

Somehow they'd end up alone and they fell back into this same conversation.

You can't always put yourself at risk for me, I know you're skilled but there's situations where you need to be more careful.

She'd sit with it, and usually come back with the same response.

I know you're capable of taking more than most people, but it doesn't mean you get to be a punching bag. If my partner is in trouble, I'm going to step in.

There was never a solution made, because he was the immovable object and she was the unstoppable force.

In short, they were both too stubborn and too proud.

Normally, she wouldn't bring it up. But feeling brave, or drunk enough to be brave, she did.

"We're going around in circles, Barnes."

She didn't look up from the table, but he continued to stare.

"We can't fight about this every single time we go on a mission. We've requested to be separated, and that's not happening. So tell me what the fuck you want me to do, because I'm not just gonna take a seat every time it gets ugly."

He sighed, "What I'd like you to do is not be an idiot out there--"

"Hm," She took another drink, "And I'd like you to stop being an asshole."

His jaw clenched again. Every time with this girl...

"Do you not see where I'm coming from?" He gestured to her ribs, "Look at you, Y/N. How many scars is that now? From our missions alone?"

She shook her head, fiddling with the cap.

"I don't know Barnes, that's not the point."

She did know, it was nine now.

"The point is I'm not going to change my mind and neither are you. So figure it out with me instead of fighting me every chance you get. Pick a different fucking solution."

It seemed Bucky couldn't stop sighing, he wanted to walk away from this night and be done with it. But he knew they'd be back in this position a month from now, and a month after that, and so on.

So, begrudgingly, Bucky sat down at the table.

"Fine. If you won't stop being reckless--"

"--And you won't stop being a dick--"

He pointed at her, "Okay first. Stop doing that. I get you're frustrated but you swear at me a lot. I hate it. It feels like you try to pick a fight."

She went to speak, but all she could think of were insults involving curse words. He'd proven his point.

Her lip curled in a scowl, "Fine."

He nodded. "Okay."

She shifted to sit with her arms crossed on the table, eyes flicking up to him.

"Stop telling me I'm an idiot. And stop saying I'm reckless. You think it's reckless 'cause I'm not Steve or Thor, or whoever else was enhnaced on the team... just because I'm not like you guys doesn't mean I'm being stupid when I'm out there."

God, he wanted to fight her on that.

Different capabilities meant different actions in certain situations, at least in his eyes.

But he kept it to himself, at least they were starting to work on something.

"Okay..." He drew out the word, subtly saying he wasn't okay with it, but Y/N didn't care.

He could think what he wanted, but he didn't get to throw it in her face every time he wanted.

"I can't control what you do on the field." Bucky started, "You make your own calls and you... you know what you're doing out there."

Y/N smirked at the look of pain on Bucky's face, she know he hated to admit it. But she was damn good at her job.

"--but if there's a situation that I think you need to stay out of, respect me when I ask."

"What if I think I can handle it?" She questioned.

He lifted his hand off the table slightly, halting her to let him finish.

"If I need you, I'll tell you."

She rolled her eyes, "So I'm supposed to wait until my coach puts me in?"

His fists balled in frustration. "No, I'm saying be there but..."

He leaned back in his chair, looking up to the ceiling.

"I don't know, maybe we have a call sign when we both need each other."

He said that to appease her, he didn't think there would ever be a time he'd need her, but maybe she would need him. And at least it would keep her from jumping in and getting sliced to bits.

She snorted, "What, like a safe word?"

He huffed slightly, "I guess so, yeah."

That seemed to be enough conversation for her, as she stumbled out of her chair and clambered over to the musty pull out couch in the corner. She was still nursing that damn bottle in the crook of her arm.

Bucky sat, somewhat surprised that that was the end of it.

"I'm tired." She mumbled as she slipped onto the mattress, kicking her go-bag onto the ground.

I guess I'll take the floor, Bucky thought.

He raised his hands in an exaggerated shrug, his words laced with contempt. "Any thoughts on the safe word?"

Y/N pinched the bridge of her nose, already feeling the early effects of a hang over.

"Yeah," she muttered, "Punching bag."

Bucky waited for more from her, but after a few moments of silence, her snoring began and he accepted that as the end of their conversation.

It wasn't much, but it was a start.

He accepted his place in the awful rocking chair, but not before picking the bottle of tequila out from beneath her.

He took one final look at his patch up of her ribs, before settling into his seat, eagerly waiting for Sam's arrival.

~

They didn't speak more of their truce after that night, but there had been an unspoken agreement on both ends to keep their promise.

They'd be less hostile towards one another; and they'd work their roles independently during missions unless someone asked for help.

And, oddly enough, their "safe word" popped up more and more with each mission. It was easier than saying the words "I need your help", because both were so stuck in their pride to ever admit that. But "punching bag" worked just fine.

In fact, they had gotten so comfortable using it during their duo missions, that it became an oddity to the rest of the Avengers in team missions.

"Barnes, what's your location?"

"Intersection of Francis Street and Main."

"I'm west of Francis by one block. Alice Street. Punching bag."

Within less than a minute, he was there.

It was rare for Bucky to use it, but every so often he had.

One time, it had been used because Bucky's metal arm had adhered to the FOD magnetic sweepers of their combatant's tank.

Y/N had laughed when she arrived, but never brought it up afterwards.

That was another thing, an interesting development so to speak. In its month's of usage, "Punching bag" somehow became "come, no questions asked."

Sam, Joaquin and Sharon had all taken notice of this new addition to their lingo; but decided not to press it. Ever since it had been implemented, the two were actually getting along. Sam would argue they were somewhat friendly with one another.

It was a peaceful three months since their Russia mission, and the team was going to ride it out as long as they could.

~

Bucky felt numb. Which was bad, because usually that led to an anger spiral or a drawn out dissociation episode. Neither were good options for him.

It was a bad day. A really fucking bad day.

He had called his therapist, but at the fourth call with no answer, he had assumed she was asleep.

Of course she was, it was 2 in the morning.

Bucky tried to remember what she had taught him; their so-called "game plan" when things went south.

He didn't want to listen to music, he had tried going for a walk, he had tried using that dumb journal she recommened he'd buy but he couldn't write anything down.

Call someone, she had said, your line of work has a select few that understand what you're going through. And those select few happen to be your friends, you can lean on them . That's what they're there for.

He had hovered over Sam's contact for—about—15 minutes. But he didn't want to.

Some nagging feeling in the forefront of his mind pulled him back, to lean towards someone else.

He scrolled down, clicked the contact, and sent a quick message.

Punching bag.

And then he waited.

-

Bucky had left his location on in their group comms chat, and Y/N was surprised to see that he was in his own apartment.

Her mind jumped to an intruder holding Bucky hostage in his own home; or him being kidnapped, leaving his phone behind and it was the last message he had been able to send before being taken away.

She got paranoid like that. She was working it out in therapy, or whatever.

Bucky rarely used their safe word, which she resented him for, but when he did she knew it was serious.

She was there in 10 minutes.

Bucky heard shuffling outside his door; as stealthy as she was, he had the fortune of super-soldier hearing.

Then she gave their call sign, an additional one that was in early development. One knock, a pause, then four knocks.

You're, one syllable, an id-i-ot, four syllables

He'd respond back with two hard knocks to signal it was clear; two syllables for "fuck you".

Apparently their old habits died hard.

He had left the door unlocked, and she entered slowly.

With a quick scan of the room, she deemed the coast was clear. Even more surprising considering the text she had received less than 15 minutes ago.

She looked at him with question, "Our safe word is usually for emergencies, y'know."

He nodded, but said nothing.

She pursed her lips, more confused but coming in regardless.

"...Alright."

She slipped off her coat and kicked off her boots. She found it odd to see him on the floor, then noticing the pillow and blankets laid out on the hardwood, she realized that's how Bucky slept.

Late at night, she put two and two together; he'd tried to sleep and couldn't.

She folded her coat and sat down across from him.

She stayed silent, patiently waiting for him.

He continued to say nothing.

She waited for a few minutes longer, prompting him to give some sort of explanation for his text.

But again, nothing.

She clapped her hands once on her knees, and stood up. Bucky panicked, fearing she would leave---

"You got back at 10, right?" She asked.

Bucky was taken aback by her knowledge of his returning home, but nodded after his pause.

She hummed, "Okay. Have you eaten?"

"Uh--" Bucky thought for a moment, realizing he hadn't. "--No."

She nodded. It was a start.

"Okay. Then uh---I'm gonna get you some food."

After digging through the cabinets whilst Bucky sat on the floor, she mustered her supplies; butter, cheese, and bread.

Grilled cheese wasn't the fanciest of meals but considering the situation, it would have to do. Besides, she didn't know how to cook anything else.

5 minutes later, a plate plopped down in front of him, and she sat cross-legged as she started on her sandwich.

He watched her for a moment, before she looked up at him with a mouthful.

"Don't let good eatings go to waste Barnes," she wiped crumbs from her lips, "I put my blood, sweat and tears into this meal."

Shockingly, even to himself, Bucky laughed. And then he ate.

"I would've added onion," She said, "But you don't seem to have... many ingredients in your fridge, Buck."

He was surprised at her wanting to use onion, and even more surprised at her usage of his first name. But he let the latter slide.

"Onion?" He questioned.

She sent an odd look back at him, "What? You've never had onion in your grilled cheese?"

When he shook his head no, she went into a ramble.

"My god, you're missing out. I'll tell you this; one time, my Pops went into this diner, you see--"

Bucky felt himself smile as she went on, telling a story of her grandpa recommending the restaurant make it a special of the day, "grilled cheese with onion", and how it had been such a hit with the locals, that they gave her grandpa a free grilled cheese every day from that day on. Which was how she knew how to make it.

She told more stories about her grandpa, then about her family, and Bucky realized he'd never heard more about her in one sitting. In fact, he realized he had known nothing about her personal life the entire time they had been working alongside eachother.

He sat happily listening, grilled cheese in hand, and even took her up on seconds as she continued to talk.

Y/N figured that, sometimes, that's what someone needs. To fill the silence, to feel the normal, especially on days that were less than good.

And eventually, the other person would start talking too.

People need distraction. Sometimes they need to talk, they need advice, or they need help and action. But when someone needs you, and they can't find the words, talking of nothingness can be the best thing.

Y/N could be good at that, something Bucky never knew about her. And, something Bucky never knew he liked.

A silence fell over them, but not like before. Not the tense words-unsaid sort. But comfortable. She washed dishes and he sat on the floor.

She flicked her hands at the sink before drying them, Bucky wondered if she did that all the time.

"So," She said, "do you want to talk about it?"

The question might have been jarring to others, but to him it wasn't. Bucky just shrugged.

"I don't think so."

He didn't need to, he thought. This was enough.

She nodded. "Okay. Do you want me to go?"

He was shaking his head before he knew it, and she smirked.

Not the spiteful one she used to adorn with him, but more of a cheeky one. One a friend might give to another.

"Alright. Do you want me to stay?"

He picked at his ratty blanket he had tucked beside him.

"Kinda." He thought before adding, "If you don't mind."

She checked her watch, "I've got nowhere to be."

She said something about a deck of cards, and went to search his house, which for some reason he didn't mind.

She found a deck, Bucky hadn't known he owned one.

"So, I'm gonna teach you how to play King's Corners, kick your ass at King's corners, and then we're gonna talk about this bed situation which is unacceptable..." she trailed off in her teasing, and Bucky found himself laughing more.

She did teach him how to play, and he ended up kicking her ass, which she claimed was beginner’s luck.

She stayed all night.

More nights like that began to happen, sometimes Bucky spoke and sometimes he didn't.

Sometimes they fought, most times they didn't.

The fights happened less and less. The all-nighters happened more and more.

And Bucky noticed more things he liked. More than her grilled cheese, more than her comfortable ramblings, and soon he found there were more things he liked than not.

She trusted Bucky to hold his own on the field, and he tried not to be as protective of her, letting her choose her own actions. They found out that was what he was afterall, and she realized she had been too.

She had been staying longer and longer. The next thing they knew, she wasn't leaving at all.

~

@dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable

@dumb-ass-3

@cuddlycalcifer @babyblue-07 @babybluereads @lonewolf471 @agni-l @niiight-dreamerrrr @julipmoon @fandomsfallnomore @elliee1497 @godspeedlover @sexwithhiddlesbatch @annestine @shower-me-with-roses @yougottalovefandoms @rebekahdawkins @gentlybarnes @emmabarnes

[miniwheat77]

Anger. (141 x Reader.)

!cheating, violence, blood, guns, military talk, 141 is there for reader during hardship. NO MINORS!

*not edited*

Your hands shake violently as you sit on your couch.

You’re waiting for him to come home, you’ve got every bit of proof you need sitting in front of you.

You hear his car pull in the driveway, and you gather everything off of the table. Holding it in your hands. You hear his car beep as he locks it. The door opens and he steps inside, freezing when he sees you sitting there. The TV is off which is unusual. “Uh.. hey.” He says, confused.

“Come sit down.” You entwine your fingers together, resting your elbows on your knees. “Is.. everything okay?”

“Just sit down.” You sigh. You’re surprised when he listens. He sits down in the chair off to your right. You slide the hoop earrings from beside you and lay them out on the coffee table in front of you. “Who’s are those?” You ask. “I think they’re my sisters.”

You nod your head. Standing up. “Than I suppose these are hers too?” You raise the panties up, setting them down near the hoops. He stands up too. He knows he’s caught by this point, but hopes he can still weasel his way out of this. “Cause that’s pretty weird. But I’d get it, if I hadn’t found this too.” You throw down the burner phone. The one he’d been using to contact other women while you’ve been out on deployment. He’d been meeting up with random women for months now.

He’s quiet. “Y/N. Listen to me-“ he makes a move to touch you. You raise your shirt up, flashing him the pistol that lies in your waistband. “You come near me and I swear to god I’ll shoot you.” He takes a deep breath. Stepping back.

“Get out.” You cross your arms.

“Y/N. No. We need to talk about this!”

“There is absolutely nothing to talk about. I’m gonna get out of the lease, I’m moving out. Your name isn’t on it anyways, so get your shit and go. You have 10 minutes.” You sit down. He looks down. Knowing there’s nothing he can do to fix it. He gathers all of his stuff which isn’t much and as he’s passing the couch, he tries to start but you don’t acknowledge him.

The door opens and a girl walks inside, and you can feel the rage starting to boil inside you. “Who is that?” You turn to him. “Why do you care?” She makes her way inside closer, seemingly to help him carry his stuff out. “Looks like I’m your replacement.” She smiles. “Oh yeah? You’re proud of being a home wrecker?” You stand up. He can see you’re getting stiff, taking a step closer with your fists balled at your sides. A clear sign that if she doesn’t back off she’s going to leave in an ambulance. “Hey, come on. Don’t.” He tugs her back. “Nah, she’s stupid.”

“Oh, I’m stupid.” You laugh. “I’m not fighting over a cheater, he’s all fucking yours sweetheart.” You laugh.

“But you better remember who’s house you’re in.” You stand tall. “I don’t care.” She moves closer, getting into your face. Her nose is nearly touching yours.

“Hey! I said don’t!” He goes to pull her back. That’s when she takes a swing at you.

She hits you right in the nose and you take a step back, holding onto it. You can feel it starting to drip down your face. You wipe it off, seeing the blood on your hands. The hair on your body stands up. Maybe it’s what you’ve seen in the military triggering you. But she’s a threat. And threats get neutralized.

You lunge at her, taking a swing.

Training in the military means you pack a punch. You knock her back onto the ground and climb on top of her. You get a few good hits in, deciding you were done. You stand up, giving her a good kick to the ribs before drawing your pistol from your waistband and pointing it at your now ex-boyfriend. “You’re fucking stupid for bringing her here.” His hands are raised up in surrender.

He’s genuinely scared that you’re going to shoot him. “Get her and all of your shit. And if I hear one word, one fucking thing. You’ll both leave here in body bags.” You point the gun at her. Seeing tears start to stream from her eyes. “GO!” You scream. They both scramble, picking up his bags and leaving. You pace back and fourth, setting your gun down on the coffee table. You turn to the side. Taking a deep breath. You’ve trained to be in stressful situations. You kill people and watch innocent people die every day and you can’t take this.

You swipe everything off of the shelf by your tv. Destroying any and everything in your wake in your fit of rage. Your knuckles are bloodied and you’re sure you’ve got glass in them from the tv by the time you’re done. You slide your gun back into your waistband and hurry outside. Lifting your phone up. Your hands shake violently as you look for your captains contact. He would know what to do. He always did.

“Y/N?” He asks. “Hey.”

“What’s going on? Is everything okay?” He asks.

“Uh.. well.” You laugh. Holding back the pain that seeps through your every pore. “Not really. Is it okay if I come back to base? I won’t need that week off after all.”

“I’ll see you in 10 sergeant.” He sighs. He could hear the pain in your voice. You can’t hide it from someone like him.

“Everything okay?”

The other 4 members of the task force sit around the oak table in the conference room. “No. Something happened. She’s on her way back to base.”

“Shit. I hope she’s okay.”

“She’s fine. She’s a fucking brick wall. Probably just that scumbag she’s with.”

You don’t think to clean up. Your upper lip and around your mouth have blood around it from the hit you took. Your knuckles are busted and bruised. You’re sure you look like shit. You speed to the base, you shouldn’t but you needed to get there. The only people you could even handle anymore are them. Your family. The only family you’ve ever had that give a shit about you.

After identifying yourself on base, you pull into the parking lot. Parking where you usually do. Next to Johnny’s truck. You lock your car up and make your way inside. You don’t know what awaits you. You don’t know what they’ll say or if you can even keep it together.

“Hey.” A voice drags you out of your thoughts. It’s Laswell.

“They’re waiting for you in the conference room sweetheart.” She smiles sympathetically. “Thank you Kate.” You smile. Your heart aches in your chest.

She would talk more, but she knows who you’re after. Your bothers.

You open the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself. “Shit- you okay?” Gaz stands up immediately. Soap follows suit. “Yeah, I’m alright.”

Price beats him to it and he steps closer, tilting your face to get a good look at your nose. “It’s not broken but it’s gonna hurt like a son of a bitch for a while.” He mumbles. “Did he do this?”

You shake your head. “No.”

“Start talking.” He pushes you further up with his hand in your lower back. Helping you sit down in a chair. You sigh. He disappears out the door for a second, coming back with a washcloth. He washes the blood from your nose first, moving to your knuckles. It takes you a few minutes before you can talk without breaking down.

“I.. got home before he did. Found a phone on my coffee table.” You sigh. “It was.. a burner phone. He’d been using it for the last few months to meet up with other women online.” You look down. “Jesus.” Soap mumbles.

“Asshole.” Gaz groans.

“Prick from the start.” Ghost rolls his eyes.

All of their commentary makes you laugh. “I told him to pack his shit. He had a girl come help him move his shit and she sucker punched me. So I.. I guess I blacked out. I was on top of her, got a couple hits in. And than I-“ you freeze up, “I just told them to leave and they left.” You flinch slightly as he picks a piece of glass from your knuckle. “But.. maybe it’d be a good idea that someone keeps this for a couple days.” You tug your gun from your waistband, setting it down on the table.

Soap laughs. “I’ll keep it safe for ya lass.” He slides it closer to him. “Why do you say that?”

“Ah, it’s how I made em leave.” You mumble, looking down. Captain Price nods his head.

He nods his head to the door. “Boys, a minute?” He asks. The three of them stand up. Each patting you on the shoulder as they exit.

John licks his lips, he’s got your knuckles cleaned up. They need some bandaging but you’ll be alright. “You gonna be okay?” He asks. You nod your head. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” You look down at your hands. “I’m gonna have to stop myself and the others. To not go track him down and disappear him.” He laughs. “I wouldn’t stop you.” You laugh. “Things haven’t been good. Obviously. I took a week off to see if we’d be able to work things out. Take some time to work on our stupid relationship and that backfired like a motherfucker.” You laugh. John shakes his head. “I hate to break it to you.. but that’s why none of us are in a relationship. Relationships and the military just don’t mix. I think just about every single one of us have been in your situation.” He sighs. You nod your head. “I think I’ve learned my lesson.” You laugh.

The room settles into a comfortable silence.

You break it.

“Something weird happened to me.” You mumble.

“Hm?”

“When she hit me, my nose started bleeding. And I wiped it off. When I seen I had blood on my hands.. my brain just got foggy. And I blacked out. Couldn’t control myself.” You look confused.

“It’s probably just the aftermath of our last mission. It was a pretty tough one on all of us. You know?” You nod your head. “It’s hard to adjust back to the real world when you’ve been out on the battlefield. You know how it goes. You’ll be alright though. The strongest girl I know.” He rests his hand on your knee. “Thank you Captain.”

“Hey, this is 141 we’re talking about. We got you, nothing to worry about. And this hardship, it’ll pass. Just like it always does. Your wounds will heal. Physical and Mental. You’ll be alright.” You nod your head. “I think you should get some rest for now, sweetheart. Get those bandaged up and head on to your room.” He pats your thigh. You smile, standing up. “Bloody knuckles and a broken heart aren’t good enough to get out of drills either, see you in the morning.”

“6am sharp Captain.”

“Good girl.”

[rafeandonlyrafe]

clicker

words: 600

warnings: 18+ only, smut, kind of pet play but it really is just the clicker, clicker training (duh), female recieving oral, p in v sex, semi public sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation

your eyes are squeezed closed, so you don’t even realize the source of the sound as your eyes blink open, body still shaking from your high as rafe is smiling between your legs, one of his hands raised, a clicker held between his long fingers.

rafe leans in, pressing a kiss to your puffy clit, making you whine when his lips make contact with your red sensitive skin.

“what is that?” you question, gesturing to the clicker, but rafe just smiles, moving to kneel between your legs, his cock rubbing over your wet folds before thrusting in.

you hear the clicker a second time that night when he makes you cum again.

--

you are trying to stifle your moans, palm pressed against your mouth, praying you won't get caught. you should have known rafe wouldn't be able to resist you in the tight dress, but you thought he could at least wait until you got home.

instead, he guided you back into the dressing room and pulled the dress up to reveal your cunt.

“r-rafe.” you whimper, eyes rolling back in your head as his cock repeatedly enters you, careful not to push all the way in and have the sound of skin slapping reveal what you are doing behind the door.

“cum for me baby, come on.” rafe whispers, moving your hand to your clit, encouraging you to touch yourself.

you rub at your clit, moving your head further into rafes shoulder, teeth gently sinking into his skin to keep you silent while he thrusts. you feel him swell inside of you and know he won’t last much longer.

you feel one of his hands leave your hip but don’t pay much attention until he releases inside of you, triggering your own orgasm, suddenly realizing that he has the clicker in his hand as he presses it at the height of your orgasm. 

“oh fuck.” you whine into his skin, body shaking as you come down from your high.

“shh.” rafe smiles, shoving the clicker back into his pocket and giving you a kiss on your pouty lips.

--

“give me a number between one and ten.” rafe presses a kiss to the top of your head as he rushes around the living room, getting his things ready to go.

“uhh, six.” you shrug.

“thats how many times i’ll make you cum tonight then.” rafe says, wishing he could just stay with you today, but he’s been neglecting his guy friends and promised a golf outing as well as drinks at the country club.

rafe makes you cum six times once he gets home, one with just his fingers, three with his mouth, and two on his cock, each time your high peaks, he reaches over to press the clicker. you’re so exhausted and blissed out by the end of the night that you can’t even muster up the energy to ask about the clicker.

--

“come on.” rafe whines, pawing at your dress.

“no, rafe, i’m busy! give me an hour and i promise i’ll be done.” you continue to type out your essay, knowing you need to get it done. rafe is incredibly supportive of you taking online college classes, but it can be hard for him when you don’t give him your undivided attention.

rafe just frowns, leaving the room only to enter a few minutes later, this time with the clicker in hand. 

“rafe, no-” you warn, but his fingers press down and your thighs clench together, a rush of wetness flooding your cunt as you let out an involuntary moan.

“wanna fuck now?” rafe asks. you glance between him and the essay open on your laptop, sighing dramatically before shutting the screen.

rafe has a proud smile plastered on his face at the success of his clicker.

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