#like stop fucking yelling unfortunately i can hear you just fine

[theprodigxl-daughter]

the christian concept of speaking in an abrasive manner and also yelling because they believe it makes what they're saying more true

[antiwhores]

The rubble smells underneath this building. The smell of dirt, dust, and suit. It’s intoxicating, almost. What’s more intoxicating? Katsuki Bakugou’s scent as you straddle him.

About 2 minutes ago, a building started to fall down right in Bakugou’s path. You were both fighting a villain with a quirk thats almost as destructive as Bakugou’s.

The villain went down but the villain decided that so would you guys. So in one last petty move, he dropped a building when Bakugou was distracted.

You dove towards him, scared to see your agency leader die. Especially since you harbored feelings for him ever since you met him 5 years ago.

You knew that you couldnt make it out in time so in quick thinking you threw yourself on top of him and redirected yourself to an area where you didn’t think that I’d fall on you guys.

It was a close call because it was a tight enough space just to fit the both of you.

“HEY!”

Who the hell is he yelling at?

“Wake up, dumbass! Shit, shit, shit… please be alive.”

You forced your eyes, that you didn’t even know were closed, open. You’re straddled on top of him, with your head on his chest. He’s against a wall, looking down at you with a look that you’ve never seen on him before. It quickly turned to relief.

“Holy shit,” he tightened the hands around your waist, “if you would have died I’d have fucking killed you.”

You moved the get off of him but he stopped you. “Theres no room, you’ll bump your head.”

You groaned at the situation, “Fuck.”

“Ex- fucking - actly, this shit sucks.”

As your brain begins to unfog, you start to digest the situation. Panic runs through your body as you wiggle your body.

“What the hell? Stop panicking.” He attempts to still you but you continue to flail.

“Im fucking claustrophobic! I’m gonna loose my shit!”

Tears well up in your eyes when your back hits against the concrete rock behind you for the 10th time.

“Fuck, you’re gonna- fucking stop!”

You only stop when you hear a grunt escape his lips. You blush as the realization comes to you. You’d been grinding against him while trying to get out. He blushes back, grabbing your head and forcing it on his chest.

“God, here- just lay your head down. You’re right on my dick doing that shit.”

Your heart is beating out of your chest. You cant tell if it’s from the fact that your boss is hard against your clothed regions or the situation of being stuck for god knows how long.

“Im sorry, I-“

“It’s fine, it’ll go away. Just stop moving.”

But will it? The way he’s feeling right now with your tits pressed against him and his dick against your crotch doesn’t seem to be fading. He can practically feel the heat radiating from your pussy.

After 5 minutes of silence, he thinks he’s gonna go crazy. His dick is still hard and you’re still on top of him trying your best to not move. The pressure of you against him is unfortunately enough to keep it hard and its driving him nuts.

You both speak at the same time.

“Fuck, can you-“

“What if I help?”

You bury your face deeper into his chest trying to hide your entirely red face.

“What?”

He waits for you to speak, wanting to confirm that you’re saying what he thinks you’re saying. You mumble something so low he almost didn’t hear it.

“I wanna help make it go away. If you wanna.”

Bakugou doesn’t speak for what felt like an eternity. Sure, he wanted to take you out on a date. But he thought he could at least wine and dine you before you start getting intimate. His brain is foggy as he thinks about all the late nights he’s spent looking at press photos of you while he strokes himself.

“You don’t have to-“ “But I want to.”

Neither of you say a word as Bakugou tightens his hold on your hips. He pulls you down hard against his cock. You both suck in a breath.

Bakugou curses as he repeats the motion. You begin to grind with him, angling your body so your clit rubs against where you connect.

Its a back and forth effort. You both work towards chasing your highs. One hand leaves your hips and pulls at your hair. He pulls you back to where your neck is exposed to him.

He latches onto your neck, licking and sucking marks into you between groans.

You put a hand over your mouth. The moans that are coming out are getting progressively louder.

“Move your hand.” He demands.

You shake your head. It’s too embarrassing the way you’re moaning like a bitch in heat.

Your eyes almost roll back at a particular harsh thrust. He rips your hand off while you’re distracted. He puts it at your side. “Move it and i’ll bite you.”

You pull at your hero costume. It’s so damn hot.

He takes it as an invitation to pull up your shirt and grab at your tits. He pulls your bra up, “Fuckkk, your tits are so perfect.”

You borderline whine when he sucks on your tit while playing with the other. All while grinding up onto you.

You feel yourself reaching the edge, “Katsuki- Im gonna.”

“Cum for me then.”

Your whole body shakes as your orgasm runs through your body. You shove your mouth against his. The kiss is hurried and hungry.

He only breaks it when his orgasm practically punches him in the face. He grips onto you so hard that theres no way he’s not leaving bruises. He bites into the juncture between your neck and your shoulder. He bites so hard that you cry out.

His eyes roll back and a long grown forces itself out.

After you both come down you look each other in the eyes as you breathe heavily.

You’re the first one to break the silence.

“Your eyes are really pretty up close.”

He chuckles, “Go on a date with me and I’ll let you see them even closer.”

[rogueddie]

There are a lot of rumors about Eddie Munson. From his sexuality, to his religion, to him being some sort of supernatural creature.

Steve doesn’t put a lot of merit in most of them. They’re usually just bullshit people make up to entertain themselves with whilst beating down on the weird kid. Steve thinks it’s boring… usually.

He’s seen enough weird things happen around Munson to know that something isn’t right. Something about him is unnatural. And Steve is staying clear out of the way of whatever the hell he is, or whatever the hell he’s messing with.

Unfortunately, his friends haven’t gotten the message.

“Do it at your own house!” Steve complains, though he makes no move to stop them. He’s sure it’s nothing, that it’ll only lead to an annoying clean-up job, but there’s a nagging sense of dread writhing in his gut. “This shit is bull anyway.”

“If it’s bull then what’s the problem?” Tommy counters.

“Because none of you dickheads are going to help clean this shit up!”

“I promise to help you clean up,” Carol says. “There. Problem solved. Right?”

"It's still stupid," Steve mutters, glaring at the janky make-shift pentagram they've made. "And a bad idea."

It's drawn on nine pieces of paper- they wanted to draw it big on the floor, but Steve had but his foot down. He lets them use some of his moms candles as a compromise.

With the lights off, sitting with the two of them in a circle, it suddenly feels too real. Even Carol looks suddenly nervous.

Tommy is the only one still smirking, though Steve is sure that it's forced. His voice shakes a little as he begins reading off the paper he'd torn out a library book. His Latin is clunky.

At first, nothing happens.

Long enough that Carol says, "did you even say it right?"

"Yes, it even has-" Tommy starts.

The candles all blow out, suddenly. The light Steve had left on in the kitchen flicks off too, plunging them into complete darkness.

After a horrible moment, where they're still and silent, Carol yelps.

"Don't grab me, Tommy, that's not funny!"

"I didn't grab you."

"Wh- Steve?"

"No," is all Steve can get out.

"I'm turning the lights on," Tommy says. "This is ridiculous."

Steve listens to his footsteps and, when he sounds like he's almost at the light switch, he yelps.

"Fuck this," he says.

"What the fuck, Tommy!" Carol yells when they both hear him running past them. She's up on her feet immediately, chasing after him.

He wants to scream after them, plead with them to come back, that they shouldn't be abandoning the circle.

But, the same gut instinct that insists he stay where he is, keeps his mouth shut. Everything in his being is telling him that if he leaves, if he speaks first, horrible things will happen to him.

Something tuts, like a parent admonishing a child.

The living room light flicks on, so bright that Steve has to blink a few times to clear away the white spots.

Eddie Munson sits in the space they left empty.

"Someone didn't read the terms and conditions," he snickers.

"What..." Steve pauses, clearing his throat. "What are the, uh... terms and conditions?"

"Oh, they're simple, really. Look," he holds up the page Tommy had read the incantations from, pointing to the little paragraph at the end. "They even translated it to English! But all you need to know, big boy, is that you are A-OK."

"And... Tommy and Carol?"

"Eh, they're fine. Lucky, really. I'm trying to relax up here. I'm only gonna pay them back with a minor curse or two. Nothing lethal."

"Fuck."

"We haven't even got to you yet!" He spins around so hes laying on his belly, resting his chin on his palm. "You didn't technically summon me so you can just tell me to leave... or."

"Or?"

"Deal with no consequence, baby. One wish, whatever you want, free of charge. Well... I'd want your silence about the whole... summoning thing. Let's consider that payment."

He doesn't need his gut or book to warn him that it's a bad idea. Munson could be lying, easily. There could be fine print. It's a bad, very bad idea.

"There's... definitely no consequences? I won't, like, go to hell for this?" Steve finally asks.

"Do some charity work for a week, you'll be fine," he says, waving his hand around. "What do you want, King Steve?"

"Could- could you make someone love me?"

"Oh, ho ho ho! Who's the unlucky lady who said no to you?"

"No, it... it's not like that. I mean, um... my mom."

Munsons smile drops. The temperature drops with it, making a chill run up Steves spine.

"Your mom," he repeats.

"They're busy like, all the time," Steve automatically defends. "And they're barely here so, uh... of course they wouldn't- I mean, it's normal, right? You can't love a stranger or... whatever. It's fine. It's just... I don't know."

"Steve..." Munson pauses.

He groans, throwing his head into his hands, dramatically. He almost immediately flings his head back up, hair flying everywhere, giving Steve wide and pleading eyes.

"I can't make people fall in love or any shit like that. I can make illusions, that's it. Love is, like... way out of my jurisdiction."

"I- I'm ok with an illusion. Like, just one day or something."

"Steve, baby, you're breaking my heart."

"Please?"

"Jesus- ok!" Grumbling, Munson shifts so he's kneeling. "And in return, you won't say shit about any of this. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Great. Ugh. This next part is... weird."

"What do you mean, weird?"

"It's weird, I don't know. Deals about, like, love are sealed with a kiss."

"You're joking."

"Nope, and that's not even the weird part. Now, come on and pucker up, let's get this over with." He gestures for Steve to shuffle closer, waiting until they're sat close enough that their knees almost bump together. "You can still change your mind. Anything at all, Steve. Anything."

"I thought you wanted to get this over with?"

"On your head..."

Munson leans forward, kissing him. It's just a peck, simple and easy. No big deal, right?

Steve feels possessed. It's like someone lit a match in his stomach, leaving him lightheaded and confused. He's not sure how he ends up in Eddie's lap, clutching onto his shoulders, desperately trying to lick into his mouth. He feels so-

He wakes up in his bed, the morning light blinding him.

"What the fuck..." he mutters to himself, grabbing at his throbbing head.

At first, he thinks he's hungover. That he'd just had a weird dream... but he's wearing the same clothes. And, sat on his stomach, is a guitar pic. It's got 'corroded coffin' written on it too- Eddie's band.

"Steve!" He hears his mom call. "Time to get up!"

He scrambles out of bed, dashing down the stairs.

She smiles when she spots him, so bright and warm. She even raises an arm, laughing when he practically throws himself into her side and hugging her tight.

"Morning, sweetheart. Good dreams?"

"Yeah. Yeah, great. But, uh... I feel sick."

"Oh no," she frowns. She puts her hand to his forehead, cooing when she brushes his hair out his face. "Is it your stomach?"

"Yeah. Just... might be better to stay home today. If that's ok?"

"Of course it is. I'm sure we can find something fun to do together, yeah? How about we get a vhs movie, hm?"

"I'd love that."

"Great. Well, if you're feeling up to it, I've made breakfast." She steps away, plating the food she's cooked up. "Oh, did I ever tell you about Paris? It was beautiful, you would have loved it. We should bring you, next time we go."

Steve can't stop smiling. He's sure that his cheeks will be aching by the end of the day.

He'll have to thank Eddie- as soon as he can even think about him without blushing. He'll need to ask if it's normal to still feel... affected, even after the deal is done.

Part of him knows it isn't the deal. Part of him is too curious about how Eddie will react.

[gloxk]

Whats the best kind of sex to have with aot men?

(Eren armin and connie?)

Best kind of sex with AOT men!

(Connie, Armin, Eren)

A/n: AHHH! Hey guys! It’s been almost a week :) sorry for my small hiatus, I am back! Have yall seen good girls? Well, if you have Connie is slightly inspired by Rio🤤. Ugh omg he’s so fine.

Warning: smut (ovi), Plug eren and Plug connie. perv!armin…

♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡

Connie!; Bratty sex,

Of course connie pissed you off once again.

It was like he woke up every day and decided to be trifling.

“Fuck you. I’m done.” He was so irritating you genuinely couldn’t even have a full conversation without getting mad. “You don’t mean that ma.” of course you didn’t.

But hell you were committed to the act.

Blocking him on everything, even blocking his friends.

That obviously didn’t stop him from calling you on a text-now number. He even went as far as emailing you. (You don’t even check that shit.)

All day your phone rung and rung —never ending ear splitting ringing noise. Finally you answered hoping he would end his antics.

“Ma, I got a 3.5 just fa you. Lemme make it up to you.” His words persuaded you; unfortunately you gave in.

You nearly ran too the door after hearing a car pull into your driveway. ‘Act mad, Act mad, Act mad’ you thought to yourself as you opened the door.

There Connie stood with a bouquet of money with a small baggie in his hand. His face turned in a sly smile. “Can I come in?”

You started yelling as he closed the door behind him, although you were acting mad your feelings were real.

Connie started rolling the backwood for you while you laid in to him. He never interrupted you, letting you express your feelings.

He kept eye contact while his tongue glided over the dried leaves. You knew exactly what he was doing. He wanted a reaction—and he got one.

You sat beside him on the couch taking the blunt from his finger-tips. “You done with that attitude?” It was an act and he knew it was, but you didn’t care. “Nah.”

Connie felt so bad for his baby. He made you have this attitude? Of course he had to get rid of it for you!

Your legs were thrown over his shoulder, as he thrusted in to you “Cmon, I thought you knew better. You know attitudes don’t work wimme.” he teased you, you both knew the act wasn’t going to last long. So it was pathetic trying to keep it up.

Armin!; Sleep sex,

Armin was a night owl, always up and doing something productive. Reading, cleaning, taking pictures of you while you sleep-

Armin was confused why his key no longer worked, he was only gone for a few days yet the locks were changed.

He prevailed, as he always would. He was a little upset with you but nonetheless he was willing to talk it out.

His eyes lingered over your sleeping body for longer than they should. He kept his eye on your lace underwear, wondering if he could slip them off without waking you.

Armin tried to control himself and respect your sleeping body, but you were too beautiful to resist .

He kissed your neck trailing lower and lower…until he reached your underwear. He happily slipped them off and took all of your beauty in.

He started in awe, watching the way you face twitched as he slowly fucked himself into you.

Your soft moans got to him; he ran his finger over your nipple twisting and tugging at them.

You slowly opened your eye lids trying to grasp the sight infront of you. But you couldn’t see, something was covering your eyes. You slightly panicked slinging your head side to side.

“I’m right here baby.” Armin kissed your cheek trying to reassure you that you were okay. But it only made you tense up more feeling him inside of you.

“I changed the locks! How did you get in?” He placed his thumb over your lips, dragging them down slowly. “Why did you change the locks?” As if he didn’t know why…

“Because you’re fucking crazy! Because this is the shit you do!” you cried, but unfortunately your tears only turned him on more.

Eren!; jealous sex,

Eren wasn’t exactly happy to see you with a different guy. “You look pathetic standing next to him instead of me.” Eren thought to himself.

When Eren told you to go find someone better than him; he was just joking. He didn’t think you’d actually move on. What happened to be locked in? What happened to being forever?

Maybe you got tired of fighting and arguing with him every single night. But how could you? The make-up sex was amazing.

It pissed him off that you didn’t even notice he was there. Did you not see the fully blackened Hellcat parked outside? I mean who else would it belong too? Did your new “boyfriend” have a better car than him? No better yet, did he make you cum faster then Eren?

Eren and Connie found themselves on the couch together discussing your new man. “That’s wild, she fuckin with a different plug bro.” Connie kept instigating the whole thing. “If that was my girl, i would’ve let my gun speak for me.” & “Me personally I wouldn’t take that disrespect, you feel me?”.

Eren couldn’t possibly take that disrespect at all; of course he had to handle it. He handled it the best way he knew how.

Your phone rung on the bed side table; you watched as it vibrated against the stained wood. Unfortunately your hands were pinned against your back—so you couldn’t see who it was.

”He’s still calling you? It would be wrong for us to ignore your man.” Eren answered the face time call; he laughed at your boyfriends concerned voice. “Yeah, she ight. Wanna see?

He flipped the camera over to you, as requested. Your back was arched giving Eren the perfect view of your pussy. He made sure to give your boyfriend something to think about before he hung up.

“Sorry ma, he wanted to see his girlfriend!” Eren laughed, his tone was oozing with sarcasm. You hated that he always knew he could come back into your life regardless if you moved on. Because nobody could ever replace him.

♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡.♡

I luv request like these <3

[uplatterme]

all out?

—sub!scara/dom!reader, amab!reader | office sex, exhibitionism

—not beta read so excuse some mistakes if there are any TT

honestly, scaramouche should have seen this coming.

he stares at his empty cabinet, dumbfounded that there’s nothing inside it. surely not…

the balladeer wants to scream. just his luck, that it happened today too, when there’s a meeting scheduled that he cannot skip.

“fuck.”

the harbinger walks through the chilling halls of the zapolyarny palace. the cold has never bothered him in any shape or form, yet today proves to be an exception.

there are lower-ranked fatui passing by, hastily running off, not wanting to meet his gaze. an action that he isn’t unfamiliar to.

he hisses and stops when a certain ginger blemishes his view.

“looks like someone’s having a bad day!” he greets.

for a moment there, scaramouche thinks that he’s caught red-handed. not until he realizes that the youngest harbinger couldn’t have possibly seen through his facade.

“you’re deafeningly loud.” he bites back, continuing his steps despite the aching in his lower half.

“ah, still the same as ever. not that im surprised.” he says, chuckling echoing through the halls.

“the meeting’s to start in a few, although the director and the overseer hasn’t arrived yet.” tartaglia informs.

he flushes at the mention of your title, the one behind this problem that he’s facing right now.

“hello?” he calls out.

“can you learn to shut up just at least once?!” he yells.

currently, he sits on the chair provided for him, next to pulcinella and sandrone. as long as he doesn’t get seated next to that blue-haired freak, he considers any situation to be pleasant.

the door opens with a slam and the rest of the harbingers bow their head as greeting. there you stand, that folder you always carry in your arms and a pen between your fingers.

that’s when the memories comes back to him.

flashes of each time you’ve ripped his underwear with those fingers of yours, the scene claws into his brain as he bows down his head in unison with the others.

it was fine the first time. it was only a one-time thing, after all.

oh, how naive he was thinking that.

he then realizes that it wasn’t a one-time thing, seeing as there’s none of them left in his cabinet, forced to attend this meeting with his cock slapping against his thigh each time he walks.

it’s embarrassing. he seethes at your voice, talking about some topic that he couldn’t give a shit about. he adores when your tone is like that, commanding and strict. the more you speak, the more the harbinger wants to cave in.

his cock presses hardly to his shorts, begging for any kind of attention. unfortunately, he’s forced to endure it. to sit there in agony while he stares at you, giving out orders.

oh, how he wishes that you bend him against the table right now.

he can see it visibly twitch from underneath his clothing. if you were to see this, what would you have done? scaramouche’s imagination runs wild, thinking of how you’d make him take your cock. overusing his body and milking him dry. a doll, whose only purpose is to serve you.

“balladeer?” he snaps back to reality, hearing you mention him.

he bites back a needy whine, feeling everyone’s attention now centered on him.

“yeah?” he spit out, his eyes meeting with yours.

“you’ll be sent off to a separate mission, is that all right with you?”

god, you could ask him to do anything and he’d agree.

“sure.”

when the meeting ends, his body was moving on its own, moving towards you to grab you and pinning you to the wall.

“you! you better take care of this!” he shouts.

you were confused at first but it didn’t take you long to see his cock fully outlined through his tight shorts.

“why should i? you’re the one who decided to attend this meeting like that.”

he groans. he does not have the time for any of your teasing right now.

“you kept tearing through—just, ugh!

fuck me already!”

his voice echoes throughout the room. he would have never expected this kind of situation to happen but he needed you so badly. he’s been hot and bothered ever since this morning.

he lets out a relieved groan once he feels his abdomen pressing on the table.

then, next comes the sound of his shorts being ripped apart. he would have complained about your tendency to tear through his clothes but all the complaints in his head goes away once he feels your fingers digging inside of him.

“hnngghh—fuck, finally. only thing you’re fucking good for—oh god!”

“shit, shit, shit!”

his face presses up on his hands, far too drunk as drool goes down his chin. he’s loving each movement inside of him, the satisfaction and pleasure you give are intoxicating him and he wants more.

his body squirms, his feet constantly misplacing themselves on the floor. his dick leaking precum as you stroke it at a pace, leaving him panting and breathing like a dog who had just gone for a run.

“look at you, all loose already…your body’s just made for fucking, isn’t it? always wanting to prove something when you can just show everybody how much of a cumdump you are.”

scara grunts at your insult (praise?), wanting to spit back something to defend himself. but his body is then shifted around, his back laying on the cold table as you took no time in penetrating his hole.

his mouth is left wide open by the stretch. it burns but god, he would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the pain. the pain that would soon then transition into pleasure by each. single. thrust.

pounding into him mercilessly, his mouth being covered by his own mouth to desperately hide his cries from enjoying it too much, smiling underneath.

eventually, he just decides to let go. his hands reaching up to fondle his own chest, playing with his nipples while you shape him into your own cocksleeve, his leg up as you wanted better access into fucking him as much as you can.

scara’s so damn loud. of course, he doesn’t notice it. nor does he notice a certain redhead blushing needing to do a double take to see if he’s seeing the right thing.

“f-fill me up! fuck, please!”

“haaah—! more, more!”

after a while, those sentences are no longer coherent as he’s turned to just moaning and whimpering, slurring his words that you can barely understand.

the table is a cum-filled mess, his dick spurting out white as his eyes roll back the furthest they can into his head.

and yet, he doesn’t stop.

even better, he’s started to match your rhythm and grind himself onto you.

there’s a bit of a swelling in his belly from your cum and yet that isn’t seen as a blockade.

each thrust, your cum slipping out of him and back into him and the warm feeling of your stickiness is just enough to send him over the edge.

in the end, he’s left with a satisfied smile. laughing and chuckling while struggling to breathe, his walls aching and not sure if he wants more or to just stop moving for as long as he can.

one thing’s for sure though,

he’s completely forgotten that his shorts are torn apart.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

the game part two

read part one here!

words: 3.2k

warnings: 18+ only!, drug dealing, smut, dubcon at first, f receiving oral and handjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, mentions of anal, cheating

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

it’s been six months, and you’ve mostly forgotten about your encounter with rafe cameron. you stole his drugs and his money, then hid out. you knew your brother would keep you safe until things died down, giving you ample money for your score, but not wanting to hear the details of how you got into the cameron household.

you rarely think of rafe, except when your pathetic boyfriend comes over to fuck you. he’s sweet, a nice boy, and you like him, but his cock, while average in size, is nothing like rafes, and you find yourself missing his length, craving the feeling of him stretching you out again, even if it was just that one time.

“i think i’m gonna head out on the boat today.” you hum to your brother, looking out the large modern windows of his mansion at the shining sun, making the ocean glitter as it reflects the light.

“mmm, fine. take security with you.” he says, barely looking up from whatever document he’s working on.

“oh come on, i’ll be fine by myself.” you roll your eyes. your brother became even more protective of you after what you did to rafe. he even encouraged you to stay with your boyfriend, who he originally didn’t like. you know that means only one thing, and your boyfriend is now in his pocket as well, probably tasked with your safety.

“baby sis, you stole from rafe cameron. he hasn’t forgotten that shit.” “and he won’t be looking for me out in the fucking ocean.” you roll your eyes, stomping away to put on your bikini as your brother yells, “i don’t care, security is going with you either way!”

you get yourself ready anyways, knowing you need some time away from everyone, including whoever of your brothers henchmen have the unfortunate task of taking you on the boat. you walk out to the dock alone, but one of the men is already out on the pier, standing waiting for you.

“hello.” you mumble, climbing onto the boat and getting it ready, untying it from the dock and turning on the engine, keeping it idling as you make sure you got your necessities, snacks, water bottles, and a towel in case you decide to take a dip.

“oh shit, i forgot a life vest, can you grab one of the other boat?” you ask the man, you think his name is james. or maybe henry. you can’t bother to remember.

“sure.” he climbs off the boat and the second both of his feet are on the wooden pier, you shoot into the drivers seat, gunning the speed and taking off away from the shore before he can stop you.

you don’t bother turning around as he shouts for you to come back. you feel a little guilty about whatever punishment your brother is going to give him, but it’s not like any of the dudes hanging around are good guys, after all they all work for a drug dealer.

you navigate the backwaters seamlessly, having grown up on the water. you head further towards the ocean, away from the grassy islands, letting all of your worries and troubles go as you keep the boat moving at max speed, letting the wind whip through your hair.

you curse when the boat suddenly slows down. you hadn’t even thought to check the gas before taking off, you know your brother usually keeps everything filled. you angle yourself towards a small island, letting the nose of the boat push into the sand, but its better than being stuck free floating.

“fuck, fuck, fuck.” you groan, rubbing your hands over your face, checking all of the storage departments for extra gas, but of course theres none.

“just my luck.” you mumble to yourself, throwing yourself down on the seat. you can call your brother and have him, or more likely one of his goons, come and rescue you, but you still want some more alone time, so you shuck your coverup off and lay back, figuring you might get the best use of your time stuck by soaking up some rays.

you lay there for half an hour before you hear a boat engine. you’re in a pretty secluded area so it’s quite the surprise. you stand at the back of the boat and wave your arms, hoping whoever it is has some extra gas they can lend you.

the boat is blacked out, windows tinted dark so you can’t see what the driver looks like as the pull up to the sandbar jutting out of the water, also lodging the nose of their boat to hold them steady.

“hey! i ran out of gas.” you shout as the door opens.

“oh, sweetheart.” the voice has your body freezing up as rafe cameron steps into the light.

“ra-rafe.” you take a step back, legs bumping into the side of your boat. you have nowhere to go as he leaps from his boat to yours. “please don’t hurt me.” 

“hurt you?” rafe questions, shaking his head as he steps closer. “hurt you like you hurt me? you used me.” rafe sounds almost hurt before the angry mask takes over his face again.

“i was forced to! my brother made me!” you explain, even though its a lie. it was completely your idea, but theres no way for rafe to know that.

“and you still went along with it. you could have told me, when you were in my house. i could have helped you. but instead, you let me fuck you. you let me inside your pussy. just to steal from me.”

rafe is now hovering directly over you, and you know from his smirk that he’s noticed your shaking body, and the way that you are staring up at him in fear.

“is that how much of a slut you are? you enjoy being whored out by your drug dealing brother?” rafe takes your chin in his hand, not being gentle at all as he tilts your head up to keep eye contact. “you certainly enjoyed bouncing on my dick.” “fuck you.” you try to pull your chin away, but rafe moves faster, shoving you down onto the sofa, the plastic material hot from baking in the sun.

“i won’t hurt you princess, no.” rafe hums, stopping you from squirming around my pressing his weight down even more. “in fact, since you love being a slut so much, i’m gonna fuck you.”

“rafe, please, no.” you whine as his hands grip your chest, ripping away the thin material of the bikini that was barely covering your tits to begin with. rafe ignores your pleas, dropping his head to suck one of your nipples into his mouth while his fingers pinch the other one.

“oh fuck.” you moan, legs widening and allowing rafes body to slot between. you press your hips up, seeking his body as you grind against him, upset that your body is betraying you as your pussy wettens the more rafe sucks and nips at your chest.

“see, this is exactly what i mean.” rafe laughs against your skin, biting the side of your breast and leaving teeth marks. “you were just saying no and now you’re grinding against me. such a little whore.” “please, i have a boyfriend.” you whimper as rafe sucks deep purple marks into your chest and neck, not caring that he’s leaving hickeys behind for anyone to see. he wants to claim you, mark you.

“does he fuck you good?” rafe asks, tugging at the strings of your bikini bottoms, pulling them off of you to reveal your messy cunt. “is his cock as good as mine? what about his mouth?” rafe questions, dropping to his knees to the teak flooring, not needing to hold you down anymore, he knows you’re not going anywhere.

rafe buries his head in between your thighs, moaning when he gets a taste of you, what he missed so much since that one night all those months ago. his tongue laps over every inch of you except for your clit.

“can’t have you feel too good, baby.” rafe laughs, biting your thigh. “not when you stole from me.” “i’m sorry.” you whine, feeling tears pool in your eyes as you reach down and tug on rafes hair, pressing his face back into your cunt.

rafe eats you out greedily, tongue traversing over every inch of you that he can, moving between wide sweeping licks and fast rapid flicks of his tongue, still keeping away from your clit.

“oh my god!” you shout when his tongue prods against your hole, lifting your hips up off the seat, unable to keep yourself still as you place one hand on the back of his head, moving your hips and rubbing your pussy against his awaiting mouth.

“such a slut.” rafe laughs, his words vibrating through you as he finally finally moves up to your clit, sucking harshly at your bud, not caring that you’re screaming from the pleasure.

rafe closes his eyes, focus solely on your cunt as he brings two fingers to your entrance, plunging them into your hole as he attacks your clit, taking it between his teeth and tugging on the sensitive skin, making the tears now roll down your face.

“please, please let me cum!” you scream for rafe, your entire body shaking as your orgasm builds, his fingers starting to thrust in and out of you as he doesn’t let off of your clit, sucking it between his lips as your orgasm hits you.

you cry out rafes name, body going taunt as you squeeze your eyes shut, the pleasure overwhelming your senses as rafe slows his licks on your clit, moving down to lap around his fingers that are still shoved deep in your cunt.

“taste yourself.” rafe commands, moving so you can kiss him. you don’t hold back, taking rafes face in your hands as you kiss him, jutting your tongue up to lick the juices away from his mouth.

“my little slut.” rafe deepens the kiss, starting to thrust his fingers again.

“ra-rafe stop.” you try halfheartedly to push his hand away, “too sensitive.” “you think i give a shit?” rafe laughs, eyes roaming your chest, taking in the bruises dotting your tanned skin. “you stole from me, bitch.” “i’m sorry.” you cry out, knowing tears are rolling down your cheeks, but you can’t stop them, the pleasure is too overwhelming.

“show me how sorry you are by cumming on my fingers.” rafe says, increasing the speed that he’s moving. you moan despite your best judgment.

rafe is somehow able to stuff a third finger inside of your cunt, stretching you to almost painful levels. you thrash on the sofa, the harsh sun beating down on you. you almost forgot that you were on a boat in broad daylight, so wrapped up in rafe pleasuring you.

rafes lips slot around your nipple again, sucking it repeatedly as you arch your back to push your chest further into his mouth, feeling overwhelmed by the attention he’s giving you, so purely focused on your body.

“i thought about you.” you tell rafe, making him pick his head up to look you in the eye, but his fingers don’t slow. “i thought about you when he fucks me. i wished it was you.”

rafe smirks, twisting his hand so his thumb can rub at your clit while he finger fucks you. “i knew you’d miss my cock once you had it. you could have stayed and been my little slut, my personal fuck toy, but instead you had to steal my coke. do you know how much money you lost me?” “i said i was sorry.” you sob out.

“cum then.” rafe commands, and your orgasm builds rapidly, too quickly, and before you realize what’s happening, wetness is squirting from your cunt, soaking rafes hand and splashing onto the teak floorboards.

“holy fuck.” rafe groans, gripping his cock with his free hand, squeezing through his shorts to give himself some relief.

“st-stop.” you say weakly, and rafe finally listens and pulls his fingers out, pushing your legs wider to admire how pink your abused pussy now is, completely dripping in your juices.

“has he ever made you squirt?” “no, never.” you shake your head. 

“it’s a shame.” rafe tsks. “i could have made you feel so good every day.” rafe stands up, glancing around the surrounding waterways, making sure there are still no boats around before unbuttoning his shirt, revealing the muscles hidden beneath.

you are boneless on the couch, body completely relaxed and near numb from the orgasms rafe just pulled from you, but despite that you still feel your cunt pulse when rafe throws his shirt onto the ground, quickly unbuttoning his shorts as well and tugging them down along with his underwear, revealing the hard cock that you’ve missed so much.

“tell me you want this.” rafe commands, stroking his cock while keeping his eyes on you.

“i don’t.” you whimper, but your thighs clench together, watching the precum bead at the tip of rafes cock.

“you don’t want me to fuck you?” rafe asks. “but you’re such a slut, baby.” he coos mockingly. 

“please, i have a boyf-”

“don’t mention him again.” rafe cuts you off. “unless you’d like for me to ruin your other hole as well that way no matter how he fucks you you’ll be thinking of me.” you whimper at the thought of rafe abusing your ass and keep your mouth shut.

“turn over.” rafe grabs your hip, forcing you to move on the couch. you place your knees on the cushion, letting rafe bend you over the back of the couch, your head hovering over the water below.

“gonna fuck you so good you’re gonna be begging to come back home with me.” rafe says, hands slapping against your ass, making you yelp.

“such a pretty pussy, fuck.” rafe groans, throwing his head back as he pushes the tip of his cock against your entrance, not pushing in yet, wanting to prolong his teasing.

“please.” you beg, trying to push back onto his cock, but rafe grabs your hips and keeps you still.

“are you asking me to stop?” rafe questions. “or are you asking me to fuck you?”

“i don’t know.” you sob, gripping onto the plastic cushion the best that you can.

rafe hums, “that’s too bad.” and then thrusts forward, burying his cock completely in your cunt in one firm push.

“rafe!” you scream out, pussy clenching down, your walls being stretched by his length.

“no wonder i fell for your act, this is the best pussy i’ve ever felt.” rafe grunts out, snapping his forward, the skin of his thighs slapping against your bum.

“faster.” you moan, but rafe does the opposite and slows instead, keeping his thrusts deep but moving steady and deliberately, letting you feel everything as he takes in the squeeze of your cunt, the tightness of your pussy.

rafe grinds his hips against you, his cock making space for itself, pushing against your sweet spot that has you crying out, past the point of embarrassment about your noises.

“so good.” you moan, knowing that you’re drooling onto the couch.

“i know, baby.” rafe moans as well, pushing his cock in and out of your sloppy cunt, dripping with wetness and coating him.

“can tell how much you’re liking it.” rafe moves faster, hands tightening on your hips, certain to leave marks behind. “can feel you squeezing around me.”

you bury your head in the couch, relieved by the cool press against your forehead, pushing back against rafe, rocking your body backwards to the best of your abilities, your knees sweaty and sticking to the couch.

“need your cock.” you swallow the lump in your throat. “need it every day, please rafe, forgive me, i need you, i don’t care.” 

“don’t care about your boyfriend? or your brother?” rafe questions.

“no.” you whine, “just care about your cock.” 

rafe fucks you harder, somehow able to find more depth and space. “well, i guess you should have thought about that before stealing from me, slut. i’ll soak my cock in your cunt this once, but you won’t get it again.” “no, rafe, i need it!”

rafe bends over your back to whisper in your ear, “then you work for me now until you pay back what you lost me. you can steal coke from your brother to repay me and then suck my cock. once you’ve paid off your debts, i’ll start fucking you.”

“i’ll do anything.” you don’t even think about what he’s asking, you don’t care, you’d promise anything to keep getting fucked like this.

“i know, baby.” rafe hums, angling his hips so every time his cock presses in, it hits the most sensitive part inside of you.

rafe reaches one hand down, around your hip, to rub over your clit, placing two fingertips on top moving quickly, trying to get you to cum because he can’t last much longer.

“gonna cum inside of you.” rafe warns, and you whine, clit pulsing under his movements.

“fill me up.” you tell rafe, aching for his cum warming your insides. 

rafe moans out your name repeatedly, pushing his cock as deep inside of you as it can go, letting his cum fill you up. at feeling his release, your orgasm pushes through your body, seeing stars as you squeeze your eyes shut, cunt fluttering around rafes cock, milking everything out of him that you can.

rafe slumps forward, his cock slipping out of you as you both collapse onto the couch, breathing heavily.

rafe grabs your waist and flips your position so you’re laying on top of him. you rest your head against his chest, letting out a low moan in appreciation as rafe strokes his hand over your hair.

“you mean what you said?” rafe asks, his hand not halting as it glides over the strands of your hair and then down your back.

“yes.” you whisper. you’ve felt far too cooped up these last six months. it’s not like you want to be a drug dealer, so hopefully once you settle your score with rafe and pay him back for what you stole, you’ll be able to absolve yourself from everything.

“then you’re coming home with me.” rafe says, helping you sit up.

“i-i can’t rafe.” you sigh, pushing your hair out of your face. “i need to get back to my brother, i’m not even supposed to be out without security.”

“mmm, you’ll have to figure it out.” rafe shrugs. “you’re coming home with me to start sucking my cock like you promised.”

“okay.” you whisper, not having any energy to argue with rafe, looking down at your destroyed body, covered in bruises and soaked in sweat, cum dripping out of your pussy.

“hey.” rafe says, placing his fingers under your chin and forcing you to look at him. he presses a kiss against your lips, so unlike your other kisses, not devoid of passion but far sweeter, almost like he’s trying to comfort you despite what he just did to you, what he just made you agree to.

“come on.” rafe sighs, standing up. “put your bikini back on, we’re taking my boat.” “okay.” you stand, figuring it’s best now to just follow rafes instructions, not worrying about any consequences as you put your bikini back on, letting rafe help you off of your brothers boat and onto his own. 

you take a seat at the back while rafe goes to the helm, watching the abandoned boat as you drive away, wondering what the hell you just got yourself into.

[cal-flakes]

hey so I was wondering if I could request a rafe fic where the two don't really like each other (maybe she's sarah's friend but he picked on her growing up) and reader is walking home alone one night and realizes someone is following her and panics and walks faster and everything until she sees rafe ahead of her and catches up with him and he can see she's genuinely worried so he goes into full protective mode and walks her home

if you want to change it at all, feel free, I'm just a sucker for a knight-in-shining-armor moment haha

I LOOOOOVE THIS!!!!!

╰┈➤ protective!rafe takes you home

warnings: nothing tbh.

summary: rafe walks y/n home after she’s followed by someone in the dark.

the cool breeze in the air blew past her as she clutched her arms to her chest. the wind whistled through the trees around her while she walked down the poorly lit street.

her footsteps slowed as she attempted to catch a noise she thought she heard. her breath hitched as she glanced behind her, a strange hooded man followed behind a few feet away.

“it’s fine, it’s just a coincidence..” she muttered to herself, walking at a slightly quicker pace.

this carried on for a little while as she went out of her way to take off down side streets and shortcuts, essentially doing a full loop of the neighbourhood she was walking through.

her heart thumped furiously in her chest, all sorts of scenarios going through her mind. as she turned the corner, she looked back to the man, still following her.

her eyes brimmed with tears as she scanned the streets for people, there was nobody around, why would there be? it was four m-thirty in the morning.

the only reason she was out at this time was because of an argument with her dad, they’d gotten into it back at home and he told her to get out. with this, she’d quickly packed an overnight bag, thinking of somewhere to go.

unfortunately, in the rush, she’d left her phone behind, so the only place she knew to go was sarah’s.

y/n has always been close with the cameron’s, she’d stay with sarah whenever her dad was out of town, and rose and ward were always happy to take her in for a few days.

her shoulder ached as the bag strap dug into her skin, her eyes were frantic. it would be a miracle of someone appeared, anyone.

and a miracle it was, when she spotted rafe cameron outside the wreck. “fuck..” she whispered.

he was her only option right now. she hated the idea, but what else could she do?

rafe and y/n didn’t particularly hate eachother, but they certainly disliked eachother. he was always mean growing up, going to great lengths just to piss her off. but surely he’d do her this favour, right?

between glancing at the man, who was gaining on her, she mustered up the courage to yell for him.

“rafe! hey, rafe!” she shouted, throwing her arms up in a wave. the man in the distance turned, brows furrowed as she sped towards him.

“y/n?” he questioned, utterly confused.

as she got closer, he noticed her glassy eyes, tear marks trailed down her cheeks. she engulfed him in a hug, pulling her mouth to his ear.

“i need you to pretend to be my boyfriend, please?” she begged, breathlessly holding onto him for dear life.

peaking over her shoulder he spotted a man following closely, eyeing the pair. his jaw clenched as he watched the guy cross the road, staring directly at him.

the man stopped at a bench across from them, glaring at rafe.

as there bodies separated, y/n’s eyes widened as rafe pulled her into a kiss, tangling a hand in her hair.

pulling away, the shock subsided as he intertwined their hands. “i’ve been waiting for you forever y/n! where’ve you been?” he asked, raising his voice enough for the man to hear him.

rafe’s car keys appeared in his hand as he lead her around the corner, towards his car.

once they were out of earshot, he turned towards her. “what the fuck are you doing out at this time?”

y/n burst into tears before he could finish, leaning into his chest. “thank you! thank you so much! that guy, he-he was following me the whole time, m-my dad kicked me out!” she wailed, sobbing as he wrapped an arm around her.

he ushered her into the passenger side, doing her seatbelt for her. “where am i taking you?” he asked awkwardly, her sobs invaded his mind as his knuckles whitened against the steering wheel.

god knows, he didn’t like his little sisters friends but the thought of someone trying to bring her harm? he was absolutely furious.

“oh, um, your house please? that’s where I was trying to go in the first place.” she muttered, her words muffled slightly as he cupped her own face.

he reached over tentatively, pushing some stray hairs behind her ear. “okay, your safe now okay? i’ve got you”

[honeytama]

Across the Fence

Neighbor!Matt Dierkes x Fem!Reader

A/N: I might pass out because of this. Need Matt’s drummer arms to save me. Ty to @areuirish for the pics! Extra tags: @abiomens @exitwoundsx

Summary: Matt and you have been house neighbors for two years and have never got along. Recently, the wooden fence that you two share is damaged in a storm. This dilemma finally makes you both face your hatred head on.

Content and Warnings: Enemies to lovers, Matt’s POV included, smut 18+, arguing/yelling/name calling, hate!sex (they’re in love idc), light degradation, throat fucking, choking/asphyxiation, raw p in v

Word Count: 3k

The day you met Matt was the day you moved into your new house. It was two years ago.

Unfortunately, you didn’t have anyone to help you that day; it was just you, your two dogs, and your packed, rented U-Haul. That Saturday morning also presented a storm, one that didn’t show up in the forecast, and you were soaked, frustrated, and just pissed off. It was supposed to be an exciting milestone and it wasn’t going as planned.

What upset you also, was that your two pit bulls, Daisy and Coco, had to stay in your new bedroom all day while you moved in.

At one point, you saw your neighbor just watching your demise through his front window. His arms were crossed over his chest and he gave you furrowed brows. You resented his nasty, judgmental glare.

You remember carrying one of your nightstands. Even that was heavy, and you couldn’t keep it from continuously bumping into your shins as you walked from the back of the truck to your front door.

He left the window and stepped out onto his front porch.

“You know if you carry it more like this—,” Matt started.

You stopped in your tracks and interrupted him, loudly, “Did I ask for your opinion?”

“I’m just trying to help!” He yelled at you through the sound of rain falling.

“If you want to help, come out into the rain or shut your mouth, you asshole!” You snarl. You remember your cheeks burned afterward.

You didn’t mean to call him names or scream, it was just the nature of that day and all of the obstacles you faced. A part of you wanted to apologize, but you watched as he threw his hand up to dismiss you, went inside, and slammed the door.

—

PRESENT DAY

Matt and you had a mutual hatred.

You two had not got into an argument like that since the day you met, but he’s found many other ways to get under your skin since then.

He plays loud music in his backyard while he grills or gardens. His friends take up parking space in front of your house without him asking.

The way he talks makes you so angry. He can be cocky and arrogant.

He hates that your dogs bark at squirrels that run along the top of the fence in the mornings. He hates that you like to stay up late and watch movies, so he complains that your TV light comes into his bedroom through your windows. Ugh.

This is why you two will never get along amongst a long list of other examples.

His tour dates are times you constantly look forward to and you would not be surprised if he became a tour manager just to be in a different city than you.

Last night, there was a storm just like the one you moved in with. It was loud and your pups were anxious, but it passed and this morning you relaxed with them on the couch.

“What the fuck?” You hear a male voice groan from your backyard.

You hop up and quickly go to your back window.

Matt’s there with his head in his hands standing next to a section of your shared fencing lying flat on the grass.

You leave out the back door and meet him.

“Our fence is so fucked,” he kicks the wood and reels back, “Ah, shit!”

“Are you okay?” You ask, truthfully.

“Don’t act like you care,” he grunts.

“Fine, then kick it again. That will fix it,” you taunt.

“Whatever. Just, help me move it out of the way,” he requests under his breath.

You two begin to lift both sides of the section to lean it against the standing fence.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he groans.

“If you try to tell me what to do again, then you can do it yourself,” you spat. 

Matt rolls his eyes. “Why do you have to be so annoying?”

“I’m annoying?” You reel. “Look in a mirror, Matt.”

You two manage to move the section safely. You begin to walk away from him to head inside.

“You’re always coming to my door to complain about shit,” he says from behind you.

“Don’t forget that you do, too,” you turn halfway to face him. “It makes me wonder if you just want an excuse to see my pretty face,” you raise your brows teasingly.

He looks at you in disgust. “Not in a million years would I think you’re pretty, Y/N,” he retorts. 

“Mhm,” you hum before turning away to return to your couch.

—

The same day, it’s dinner time and Daisy and Coco need to use the restroom and take some time to play outside. You think that as long as you keep an eye on them, then they won’t go on to Matt’s side of the backyard.

Trusting them as they’re always well-behaved, you look away for five minutes to gather things from your pantry and refrigerator to begin preparing your meal.

You’re evening is so serene until you hear the voice of your neighbor, again.

“Y/N!” Matt angrily calls to you from your backyard.

Ugh. You toss everything in your hands onto the counter and rush outside.

“What?” You raise your voice before noticing him standing on his side of the fence, his fists holding your dogs’ collars. “Matt, what happened?”

“Your dogs got into my garden and ruined my plants! Why aren’t you watching them?”

“I was watching them, you dick.” You walk over to take your girls’ collars into your hands before ushering them back into your side of the yard. “I looked away for five minutes!”

“You’re not watching them well enough, then!” He argues.

With your hands on your hips, “How do you even know they ruined your garden, huh? Did you forget the storm that took down our fence?” 

“I saw them—,” he starts.

“Yeah, yeah. If you’re going to be so anal about my dogs coming into your yard while our fence gets fixed, then I better not see your dogs in mine,” you begin to lead your dogs back into the house.

“Fine!” He yells behind you.

“Fine,” you say under your breath.

—

MATT’S POV

Boo and Zeus are in Y/N’s yard. Fuck.

The sun has fully set, maybe two hours after Y/N and I had our argument over her dogs finding their way into my backyard. 

I was sneakily making my way off of my patio onto her side of the yard to go search for them while thinking about how I talked to her earlier this evening.

I didn’t actually see Daisy or Coco near my garden. I think I just wanted an excuse to be angry over it being destroyed by the storm. Her dogs can be loud, but those girls are precious and I admit that Y/N is a great dog parent.

Also, I think I just wanted to see Y/N’s face again. That pretty, fucking beautiful face. I have to admit to myself that I tease her and complain to her so that I can get her reaction. I hate that I love hearing her voice.

“Boo! Zeus, back in the house!” I whisper to them once I find them. I follow them back to my patio, let them inside, and close the door behind them.

From behind me, Y/N’s living room lamp light softly illuminates her yard. My feet take me back there, involuntarily.

Looking into her home, she walks through her kitchen and living room in her underwear and bralette, shamelessly. 

God, she looked good. Also, I should not be doing this.

When I finally look up from boring my eyes into the curve of her ass, our eyes meet.

I’m fucked.

“Matt, what are you doing?” Her voice is muffled but she walks over to her patio door in strides. “Come inside, now.”

—

READER’S POV

Matt kicks off his shoes once he’s inside. You want everything to scream his head off for violating your privacy, but all you can do is glare at him in silence.  

“What are you staring at?” He questions you.

“Excuse me? Matt. I’m not the one peeping through your window, while you try to have a relaxing night,” you jab.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to get my dogs back into the house and then I saw you—,” he explains and trails off with his eyes glued to your chest.

“I knew you had a crush on me,” you tease.

“What?” He raises his voice. “No!”

“So, you wouldn’t like it if I kissed you right now?” You step forward into his space.

“Not at all,” he chokes out.

“Or, touched you here,” you reach under his shirt and your fingertips graze his lower stomach, just above his waistband.

Matt’s breath catches, “No, because—.”

“Because why?” You whisper against his cheek.

“I hate you,” he says assertively before crashing his lips into yours. 

“Mmm,” you let out a surprised moan into his mouth. 

Your hand finds its way to the back of Matt’s neck, fingers threading through his hair, pulling him in closer.

He responds with a hunger that surprises you both, his arms wrapping around your waist, pulling you tightly against him.

Matt’s tongue fights yours for dominance and his teeth nibble your lip every so often. You yelp when his hand slaps your ass with a stinging pain. “Take me to your bedroom,” he says gruffly when you finally break apart.

“Matt,” you whine his name as pain turns to lust. You grab his hand and lead him into your bedroom where he pushes you against the closed door once you’re inside.

His lips attach to your neck and he marks you with bites and sucks on your delicate skin. You moan into his ear as he brings his hands to fondle your chest. Matt pulls the front of your bralette down to expose them to the chilled air. His fingertips roll and tug at your nipples, leaving them sensitive to the touch. You gasp as you feel his hard-on pressing into your upper thigh.

“Get on your knees, Y/N,” he commands.

You follow his order and you drop to your knees on the plush carpet. Without hesitation, you tug his joggers down his thighs and he pulls his shirt off to expose his chest. His hat falls to the floor in the process and it’s the first time you see his full head of light brown tresses.

Matt strokes himself and you look up at him in awe. His brows are furrowed again and small moans escape his lips when his thumb passes over a sweet spot under his cockhead. Your favorite part; he’s big. You’re eager to test if you can wrap your fingers fully around him.

“Open,” he tells you. You replace his hand with yours and wrap it around his shaft. Quickly looking, your fingers are a centimeter away from your thumb. Fuck. Your mouth opens up happily; you languidly stroke him while giving teasing licks to his tip. “If you make me cum, then maybe I’ll consider liking you after tonight,” Matt taunts.

You roll your eyes. “Mhm,” you moan as you wrap your lips around his tip.

You take him into your mouth as much as you can and use your hand to stroke his base. You watch his eyes as you bob on dick; his lips are slightly open and let out soft whines when you run your tongue over the spot you noticed earlier.

“God, you look so much better with your lips around my cock,” he hisses.

“Hm?” You make eye contact with him and smirk.

“I didn’t say you were pretty,” he corrects you. His dominant hand makes its way to the back of your head. “Can I?”

You nod and let your hand fall to the back of his thigh to brace yourself. You couldn’t deny an angry, sexy man from fucking your throat.

You groan on his cock once he begins thrusting his hips. Both of his large hands grasp the back of your head and he smiles down at the tears forming in your eyes. 

“Never would I think your hard ass would let me make you drool like this,” he grunts with each thrust.

You clench your thighs hard at his words trying to feel some sense of relief. You envied any other woman that got to hear him talk to them like this. If your panties were off, then you wouldn’t be surprised if your juices dripped onto your carpet.

Matt slows when he feels your fingernails dig into the skin of his thigh, “Get on the bed, on your back.”

You stand, take a deep breath, and wipe your mouth as you enter your bed. “What? You’re not going to fuck me from behind? I thought you didn’t like looking at my face,” you taunt him while lying on your back.

Matt shucks his joggers off his feet and crawls to you on all fours until his face is above yours. His right hand comes to grip your chin, “I want to see what it looks like when a girl like you cums so many times she can’t run her mouth anymore.”

Oh. 

He kisses your forehead quickly before he pulls your panties down your legs. You sit up a bit for him to tug your bralette off. 

Matt raises your legs until they’re spread and fully expose your wet cunt. He nestles between his hips between yours and pushes the length of his cock through the slit of your lips. His cockhead grazes over your clit and you whine.

“You’re fucking soaked,” he groans. “You like to be degraded, huh? Who knew I’ve been turning you on these past two years by being an asshole?”

“I’ve touched myself to the thought of you,” you admit, reaching down to rub over your clit with your fingertips.

His hands squeeze your ankles. “I don’t believe you.”

“You can admit that you have, too,” you moan as he watches you circle your clit. “I’ve seen the tent I make in your pants when I groan your name, or call you a dick.”

“I hate you so fucking much,” he presses himself to the hilt into your pussy with one thrust. 

“Ah, Matt, fuck you— you’re so big,” you gasp and furrow your brow.

He smirks and you know his ego has been stroked. Matt’s hands maintain the grip on your ankles to spread you open to use you. He begins to thrust into you at a quick pace and murmurs ‘I hate you’ when his tip taps the back of your cunt. 

Tears form in the corners of your eyes from how full you feel. You've never been with a man that has made you feel like this before. You do your best to do anything to show him how good you feel, but at some point, you have no choice but to look up at him with an “o” on your lips and your eyes glossed over.

“Ok, now I’ll admit it,” he slows his thrusts for a second so you can hear him without the sound of your pussy squelching ruining his compliment. “You’re cute. Pretty, even.”

Your eyes roll back at his words and you moan even though your mouth is dry.

“What? Can’t talk back? I’ve always wanted to fuck you until you couldn’t speak,” he teases. In retaliation, you bring your hand to the back of his head, gather his hair, and pull it. “Shit,” he moans.

Matt reaches to place his hand on your chest above your breasts. You smile up at him with a glint in your eye hoping he wants to do what you think he does. You let go of his hair which captures his attention and you nod enthusiastically before looking at his hand.

With your luck, he understands and pushes his hand into the base of your neck and grips the sides. “What a good girl you are letting me choke you out,” Matt grunts.

His weight presses you into the mattress as he fucks your cunt mercilessly. His words and the feeling of the ridge under his tip caressing your sweet spot make your head feel light. You grasp Matt’s fingers around your neck to let him know to ease off.

He lets go and returns both his hands to your ankles, pushing your thighs further into your chest. It’s the first time you can see downwards; you watch the full length of his messy cock enter and exit you with the slapping sound of his hips on your ass. This just about tips you over the edge.

“Matt, make me cum, please,” you whine and look up to match his gaze.

He bites his lip and nods. “Touch yourself,” he demands breathlessly.

Your fingers return to your clit and you pass over it at a quick pace, eager to give him your first orgasm. You gasp as you feel your insides become more wet, like a pipe bursting. 

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” you moan and shut your eyes.

All he says is “Eyes.” and you shoot them open to maintain his eye contact. Matt furrows his eyebrows in concentration as he brings you to completion. The rush flows over your body and causes you to shake. All you can do is whine his name. It was more intense than any of the times you masturbated to the sound of his voice in your head.

You relax your head on the mattress and attempt to bring your heart rate down. “Thank you, Matt,” you breathe out. “I never thought I would say that to you.”

Matt strokes his still-hard dick while watching the quick rise and fall of your chest. “Y/N, we’re not done,” he reminds you. “You’re going to cum as many times as you can on my cock, my fingers, my tongue… until you can’t take it anymore.”

[lloyd-007]

Summary:

Spider Socorro gets shot instead of Neteyam. But he lives, part 1. @ele-sme from what we were talking about. Also sorry for any miss spelling or grammar.

Spider didn't remember jumping into the sea, one second he was at the bay escaping with Neteyam and Lo'ak when one of the avatars failed his gun towards them, Spider remembers the adrenaline kicking in at the moment when he saw Lyles egg-headed ass firing at his bro- friends his friends. Spider forgot everything in that split second, everything happened so quickly yet so slowly. Spider still feels how his heart tightened when Lyle shot at the with no mercy in his eyes. During the months Spider spent with them in the forest Spider thought that he managed to at least get to know him, the others and his clone dad but now he can see it was all a sick evil lie.

He'd never gotten to know the true them, they had lied to him, just like everyone else. A horrified expression appeared on his face, Spider's eyes widened his mouth shot open as he yelled at them to get out. Then... nothing. Nothing comes to his mind.

Spider was now all alone. Or so he thought.

His mind was very vague but every few minutes he'll catch something, like a glimpse of someone or hear voices- no. Crying. Yes crying. Slowly his mind focused on his surroundings, he was laying down on something hard. It was cold, very cold. Spider swore it felt like spikes. His breathing clenched while his senses came back for just a second. His eyes open a bit. His face instantly became distorted from it.

"SPIDER! Hold on oh shit shit-" he knows that voice, suddenly a massive hand, bigger than his face cradles his head. Spider hissed back in pain due to the action.

"Fuck! They used one of their big guns! NO' Oh fuck-"

More scenes came back at that moment. Someone else was there- no a few more people were there.

" Dad, please tell me he's gonna make it! Oh great Mother oh no". Kiri. That was kiri. Spider looked up at her, his vision clears up enough to see her eyes all teary and scrunched up, her mouth was trembling. Her hand was over his wound trying to stop the bleeding, while another one, Neteyam was there his hands were trembling. His face was nothing like he's ever seen before, his once brother was frantic just like kiri. He was numbing little "nos" to himself while fat tears fell from his eyes which were full of regret. Spider didn't manage to hear much of what he was saying but he did her one thing.

" oh please great mother, I'm sorry I'm sorry for being a bad brother just please don't take him".

"LET ME GO- MAMA LET ME GO!".

He didn't need to look up to see who was yelling he recognises that voice anywhere.

"Lo'ak please-"

"NO, THEY NEED TO PAY LET ME GO- I"

Spider couldn't focus on what he was saying next. His breathing suddenly became faster, more raspy. His eyes shot open, Kiri sprung into action her face leaning down while her hands tried to cover his wound. Neteyam jumped in as well. His hands stroked his left hand. He didn't realise it before but Jake was talking to him. Spider didn't notice him before, he didn't even notice he was right in Infront of him. It was his hand on his cheek, gently stroking it, whispering to him.

"Hay! Look at me! Okay?! Your gonna be alright ! Everything is fine, we're gonna call norm and he'll have you all better in no time and..".

Spider knew he was lying. He watched as Jake struggled to say anything. Jake looked away for a moment, guilt covering his face. Spider felt his breathing tighten at that moment, his eyes were beginning to close them. Spider squeezed Neteyams hands and he squeezed them back.

" I want to go home" was all he could say. Jake looked back at him. His eyes were teary.

"yeah, yeah of course kid. We'll take you home."

Spider didn't remember what happened next when his vision became blurred, his head was spinning, everyone around him became fuzzy, and his world began to turn black. Spider didn't want to go, he didn't want to leave, unfortunately, now he has no choice. As his world slowly crumbles into the dark endless void he looked up past Jakes alert eyes into the sky his ears vaguely picking up what they were saying.

“ Spider!-“

His eyes closed.

me after traumatising Spider again^^

[imaginesheaven]

GN!Reader x Valeria Garza – sibling’s love

Synopsis: Valeria has her Las Almas Cartel. You are one of the Los Vaqueros. Unfortunately, the two of you are twins. So, one day when TF 141 comes to arrest El Sin Nombre, you are confronted with your own family. It will be a hell of a ride to tell your mother, when both of you visit her for dinner together.

Here, something quick I wrote because I couldn't get it out of my head *haha* Please, let me know if you enjoyed it :)

Callsign: Doberman

Warnings: Swearing; violence

Length: ~1.5k

It wasn’t really a pleasant situation how you found out that Valeria – your own fucking twin – is the leader of the Las Almas cartel. Alejandro and Rudy had a long conversation who is actually going to tell you in person, because they knew you would be mad. In the end they just flipped a coin. Alejandro lost unfortunately. It’s an understatement that you were fuming with anger.

“VALERIA!”, you burst into the conversation between Graves and your sister. “You two know each other?”, Phillip looks at you with dislike since you interrupted him. “Ah, we are even closer than that. Same bloodline, eh?”, Valeria winks at you.

Alejandro and Rudy have a hard time to hold you back as you curse a whole lexicon of Spanish swear words over her. “That’s how you greet your long-lost twin, (Y/N)?”, she still knows how to push your buttons. Such a sibling thing of her.

“You disgrace our family. Father would turn around in shame in his grave because of you, pendejo”, you reply playing the same game she does. Valeria leans forward now the one who swears in Spanish; ready to pounce any second.

Graves puts his hand on her shoulder to keep her in the chair. “Get your fucking hand of her, gringo!”, you yell at Graves hating him from the second you first saw him. Valeria leans back in her seat. Something like proud shines in her eyes, “See? Don’t fuck with my little Doberman. I’m well protected.”

For a second your hand curls around the handgun by your side, then you raise your hands in a defensive gesture, “Tell them what you know, Valeria.” With that you turn around to leave before your short fuse will blow up finally.

“Fine, I will. We see each other Thursday for dinner at Mother’s place~”, she yells so you still can hear her words. You don’t turn around or stop. This is going to be the worst week of your whole damn life.

Valeria called you her little Doberman for most of your life, since you were always there to protect her. She is actually the older one for about a minute, but you took your task of keeping your twin safe very seriously. Both of you are very dangerous soldiers. Back when you served together side by side, you were a dream team. Until the day she betrayed you and the army.

Valeria would never admit it out loud that she actually missed having you by her side. She is also a bit jealous how Alejandro and Rudy held you back. It’s like they are your family now. Well, she can understand it after what she has done.

After Graves’ betrayal you didn’t want to be on the team with Alejandro and Gaz to secure Valeria. But what can you say? She is still family. You hate how proud and confident she looks as you put her into the car to bring her to the next prison. “I will be free in 24 hours”, Valeria smiles at you innocently. Both of you know that she tells the truth.

Thursday arrived. You hoped with all you have that Valeria would not be at the dinner with your mother, but no one heard your silent prayers. Your mother opens the door more than happy to see you alive and in one piece, “Come in!”

There she is; sitting at her old place at the dinning table with a glass of wine in her hand. Valeria opens her mouth to greet you, but you raise your hand to stop her right away, “Don’t talk to me, pendejo.”

“What are those manners, (Y/N)?!”, your mother puts her hand onto her chest. “Yes, my little Doberman. Why did you arrest me?”, Valeria smirks knowing exactly how to turn a little flame into a breaching fire. Family is the highest priority for your mother.

“You are fucking El Sin Nombre! I’m militaria! I can’t let you go because we are family!”, you sit down opposite of Valeria. Your mother watches the two of you with furrowed eyebrows, “You arrested Valeria? And you are the cartel leader? Dios mio!”

Your sister leans forward to emphasize her statement, “I just do what it needs to protect you two!” For a second you can see the old Valeria sitting there. “You almost shot me last week”, a slight smirk appears on your lips.

Your mother gasps loudly, “VALERIA! THIS IS YOUR FAMILY!” Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed, “I did miss, right? If I wanted to shoot you, I would have done it.” Laughing you grab the wine bottle from the table, “You were never as good at shooting as me, Val. A few things will never change apparently.”

In the same moment both of you put your handguns onto the table, showing each other no mercy. Just like the fucking old times. Neither of you would hesitate for a second to pull the trigger. It has always been like that.

“NO HANDGUNS ON THE TABLE!!”, your mother yells through the entire room. Both of you flinch with the intensity she still rules the house. “Sorry, mother”, you mumble under your breath and holster your gun quickly. Valeria does the same without any apology just like always. There only two or three things she is actually sorry about.

“If you are going to kill each other, at least after eating! I cooked all day long for you”, your mother shuffles into the kitchen.

Valeria and you keep shooting each other death glares over your plates. When your mother doesn’t look you kick each other underneath the table. Neither of you is going to back down like a true Doberman.

The rest of the dinner actually runs way smoother than thought. Of course, both of you help your mother with the dishes. Your mother puts on her favorite record as she swells in the happiness to have you both back safely.

“You missed a spot”, Valeria exclaims and points her finger at the plate in your hand. “Shut up, it’s clean!”, you still try to suppress your anger at her, but she keeps pushing you. Probably hoping to find your breaking point.

“I will tell Mom that it’s not clean”, she grins at you. Without a word you slap her hand hard so she lets go of the plate. It shatters on the floor into thousand pieces. “MOM! VALERIA BROKE ONE OF THE PLATES!”, you return the winning smile at her.

“No! I didn’t! You did that!”, Valeria tries to explain as your mother comes into the kitchen to find the mess on the floor. “Dios mio! Those are the good plates, Valeria”, she leans down to pick up the shards. Smirking you flip Valeria off with your soapy hands. Of course, behind the back of your mother. She would get a heart attack for sure.

Your twin rolls her eyes annoyed and throws the wet rag into your direction. “No fighting in the house, you two! You can beat each other outside. Do what you have to do to get out your anger”, your mother shushes both of you out of the kitchen. Valeria takes her chance to trip you on the way towards the front door.

“FUCKING HELL! You make me go haywire!”, you raise your hand to smack her square in the face. Suddenly your mother grabs your ear and Valeria’s to bring you down onto her level. She will always have enough strength left to lecture you two.

“I want you to get things right. Like I said: fight, shoot or whatever. I don’t care, but no killing each other. I will see both of you next Thursday to dinner again, comprende?”, she releases both of you with a slight smile on her lips, “Great! Have a nice evening. Love you!”

Without a further word you stumble outside with Valeria right behind you. For a moment you stare at each other, ready to blame the other one for this mess. Valeria starts first to laugh and you can’t help but join her.

“Well, that was fun. See you next Thursday, my little Doberman!”, she makes her way towards the black car that waits already for her. You don’t want to admit it, but you kind of look forward to it.

[pepexpablito]

gavi/reader public sex like on a bench in a park or something with maybe her coat dreaped over them

tonight Gavi was free from work and decided to go to the club with you and some of his friends, unfortunately there were only about ten spots at the booth so you had to sit on Gavi's lap. after about 30 minutes you feel something poking your thigh " Gavi can you take your keys out your pocket" you say " my pockets are empty nena" he says quietly whispers in your ear, and when you look back you see him smirking while grabing your hips and slowly rocking you back and forth " Gavi stop!" you say whisper yelling " shh they are to drunk to even notice, plus the music is loud as fuck so they wont hear anything" he says lifting you a little to unzip his pants. after he unzips his pants he grabs his jacket and puts it over both of your bottom halves aswell as sliding up your dress a bit so he could squeeze his dick in your pussy " oh my god " you whisper trying hard not to scream as Gavi slowly starts bouncing you up and down squeezing his eyes shut as he cums biting into your shoulder "ouch" you say a little to loud " what happened y/n" pedri says " she's fine, she just has a stomach ache and is a little full right now" Gavi says laughing and smirking at you

(hope you all like it had to include my bookie pookie bear pedri , feel free to leave feed back I love it whether it be good or bad and my requests are always open so if you have one feel free to ask🍌)

[delopsia]

Dancing Beneath The Moon | Rhett Abbott x Reader

Word Count: 10,000  Cross Posted on AO3 Brief Summary: How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy? And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you? Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, Ghost!Rhett AU (with a twist! I won't tell you what kind but it's a twist!), friends to lovers, Trevor does not take rejection very well (please be advised that he does yell at the reader and scare them), unprotected sex, mentions of violence, and Rhett's 'murder.' Please refer to the user manual and wash your cowboy before sex.  

"I-I'm sorry, I need to leave."

"Trevor, wait!" Your feet patter across the floor, struggling to keep up as he lets himself out the door, "I can explain."

Only on the front porch does he stop, ostrich-skin boots clicking against the old wood with every step, "You don't need to," holding up one hand, as if to ward you off, "I just...forgot my Dad asked me to interview our new ranch hand today."

Your mouth opens. Closes. Opens again, gaping like a damn goldfish.

"I'll call you later," and that's all Trevor leaves you with, skittering off the porch and clambering up into that lifted F-150, with its perfect, custom black paint that glimmers a deep blue as he tears down your driveway.

Ugh.

"Rhett!" Your voice echoes throughout the house, punctuated by the slamming of the door behind you. So loud, and yet you can still hear the vicious banging of your beloved cast iron skillet banging on your kitchen tile. A shrill clatter of noise that has you fighting the urge to cover your ears as you storm into the kitchen.

And there he is. The translucent motherfucker, sitting cross-legged beneath your table, peeking out from beneath it. "What?" A big, shit-eating grin lacing his barely there features, so innocent and childlike that you almost don't believe he was the cause of this mayhem.

Almost.

The skillet in his hand provides a pretty damning counterargument.

"I'd kill you if you weren't already dead," fuming, yanking that dented skillet out of his hand; Rhett's grip is strong, but not enough to stop you from taking your cookware back.

"I was playin' with that," he huffs, a cold wind that tickles your ankles.

The skillet lands in the sink with a clatter. "And I was trying to have a date," you hiss, throwing your hands up, "but I'm unfortunate enough to share a house with a ghost who doesn't have any fucking manners!"

"I have manners!" Rhett's up in the air now, a buzzing collection of mist that floats up to the ceiling, no longer human, "I just ain't got 'em for big shots that wanna play cowboy for a day!"

"He is a cowboy," he's not. You know he's not. But god, you are not giving Rhett fucking Abbott the satisfaction of you agreeing with him. "You wouldn't know, being ancient and all that."

The temperature drops. Mist scattering. You can't tell where he is anymore. "I would know 'cause I am a fuckin' cowboy!" His disembodied, roaring voice comes from all directions. "No good-minded cowboy wears a goddamn rolex on a work day, 'cause they know that shits fixin' t'get scuffed!"

"Cowboy or not, you're going to have to get over it," as you reach for the tap, you think you can feel his presence behind you. Some invisible thing that sends your skin prickling, even with the knowledge of how harmless he truly is. "Trevor's coming back, and if you keep scaring him off, I'm phoning a priest."

"Fine!" Booming behind you.

"Fine!"

He's gone for the rest of the night.

The pizza guy scares the hell out of you when he knocks on the door. Not because you had forgotten about your order but because you were waiting on the curtains to peel themselves open. Expecting to hear a deep, half-hearted grumble about how "your date is here" as the fella clambers out of his beat-up sedan.

But it never comes.

Rhett doesn't even bug you about giving him a slice that he knows he can't eat, but you catch yourself putting a plate out for him. You wonder if he's in the room to see you rushing to put it back in the cupboard. Maybe he's out in the field because the television doesn't miraculously change to the Animal Channel like it usually does. You don't catch a glimpse of him lingering in the mirror whilst you brush your teeth.

You're glad.

You didn't want to see his ugly mug anyway.

Strange how such a big presence can vanish so easily, without a trace or hint of where he went, leaving this big farmhouse feeling like a husk of what it usually does. The temperature drops a degree or two when he's around, but without him, it feels like you've set up camp in the Arctic. How can a dead man bring so much life to a place?

But the covers are tucked around you in the morning.

You can't see him, but when you step into the kitchen, sleepy-eyed and yawning, you can feel him wisping around you. That invisible presence seeking for anything to get back on your good side.

The toast lifts itself onto a plate before it can be burnt by that old, barely functioning toaster of yours. On the table, the weekly grocery ad flips open to a discount on new toasters, a lazily written note scrawled beneath it. 'They even have the color you were wanting! :)'

He pulls the chair out for you to sit, and when you defiantly head out onto the porch to eat, he pulls the patio chair out for you too. You hate giving him the satisfaction of helping, but it's hard to avoid him when he's free to roam this entire property.

But the one thing you've forgotten is just how hot Wabang can get, even this early in the morning. Birds tiredly chirp from their nests, unwilling to take flight beneath the sweltering sun; the old wind chime is silent, not even the slightest breeze appearing to help it sing its tune. You've been outside for a mere five minutes, and yet sweat already beads on your forehead.

A cold nothingness wisps past you. Round and round your little patio table, stirring up a breeze that doesn't reach the trees.

"You can come out, Rhett," fighting your laugh is futile because it slips out as you speak, dancing through the air in tune with the wind chime.

The opposite chair scoots out on its own, a pale blue mist collecting in the seat; it'll take him a moment to get settled back into form. "Did ya happen to find my headstone yesterday?"

Your head is shaking before he can get his sentence out. "Are you sure you were buried in Wabang?"

"I don't know where else I'd be," Rhett's face isn't fully there yet, but his scowl is, settled deep into his nonexistent features. "Wabang was the only place my folks ever knew."

Your heavy tongue can't be brought to tell him about the graves you did find. Royal and Cecelia buried together, their son Perry right next to them, and their granddaughter Amy buried in the row in front of them, next to a headstone simply titled 'Autumn.'

Rhett should know. He deserves to know where his family rests, but you can't bring yourself to tell Rhett that his killer was given the privilege of being buried next to his parents. Don't know how to tell him that the Amelia County Sherrif dug up an old newspaper declaring Perry Abbott as not guilty of Rhett's murder.

"C'n I bug you to put a cup of coffee out?" Rhett chirps, and that permanently scruffy face almost looks real. His eyes must have been as blue as the ocean deep when he was alive, for even now, they glow with their color. The only thing off about him is his slight transparency and the rays of sunlight that spear through his body.

"You didn't smell it enough this morning?" You ask, but you're getting up anyway; you'd rather not deny his request and risk him making a mess by trying to do it himself.

His boots click across the old wood, in perfect tune with your step, "wasn't here."

"Where did you go?" You're already grabbing his mug out of the cupboard, other hand reaching for the coffee pot.

He's quiet for a moment, and then, "barn." When you turn around, he's no longer there, a plume of mist once more, but you don't need to see him to know that his eyes are transfixed on the ground. "Didn't think y'wanted me in the house after last night."

Most people would love it if their ghosts would leave the residence; let them live in peace without being heckled by the souls who can't move on. You'd know; you were one of them, once upon a time.

"You don't have to leave every time we bicker, Rhett," it feels strange to say, but those words are spoken directly from the heart, "this is your house too."

He manifests again. Back to his favorite spot beneath the edge of the kitchen table, cross-legged, where he can peek out to see what you're doing. A little too big to fit, but he makes it work.

Like clockwork, his right-hand toys with the cracked edge of a linoleum tile, the one he's pulled up numerous times in the past.

"Please don't tear up my tile," you try to say it as gently as you can; you know why he's so drawn to it, but you really don't want to spend an afternoon fixing your beloved floor again. Wordless, he leaves his spot, content to settle down in a kitchen chair and smell his coffee. The closest he can get to enjoying its flavor.

You wind up back in bed early in the afternoon. Downed by a migraine that refuses to pass, settling deep into your skull, brought on by an unknown cause. You think it may be from the obnoxiously strong air freshener you plugged in; Rhett blames it on your cellphone.

"Care for some company?"

You're fortunate that Rhett Abbott is easy on the eyes because it's difficult to open them. There he is, standing near the edge of the bed, in the same spot you met him three years ago.

At least this time, the two of you aren't screaming, startled by each other's sudden presence.

"As long as you don't hog the sheets," comes your conclusion, and the bed is dipping as soon as the last word has left your mouth. A weight that isn't there settles across from you, a human-shaped indent that by all means shouldn't exist.

Rhett's hair falls into his face as his pretty head lands on the pillow, snuggling against it, and you know he's trying his best to remain as solid as he can. He says he's not touch-starved, but you're starting to think that he's lying.

Your hand wanders out on its own, carefully settling against that misty cheek, trying not to go through him. "You look a little more solid than usual."

"Only took a couple years of practice," the corner of his lip rises with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes.

Oh, why does he have to look so sad when your hand inevitably passes through him?

You don't know if ghosts can cry, but his eyes seem to water as he feels your touch falter. They always do, but it never gets any easier to look at. It never gets easier, watching his smile wobble back into a frown, and his form grow a little more opaque.

Opening your arms to him probably isn't the best move to make. You've both discussed this; roommates is as far as this relationship can ever go because anything more asks for nothing but heartache. Heartache, such as the crushing feeling of feeling him squirm closer and not being able to feel him when you wrap your arms around his waist.

The only sign that he's real is the coldness you feel against your chest as his head settles against there. And, maybe, just maybe, you think you can feel wisps of his hair tickling your skin.

"What the hell is that?"

You haven't even taken it out of the box, and Rhett is already puffing up like a feral cat about it. "What does it look like, Rhett?"

The living room light flickers, his blue mist settling into the corner of the couch, as far as he can get from the box sitting on the floor. Refuses to take any more form than he already has, doesn't know how to react to this new thing that now sits in the same room as him.

"I don't have a clue," he says after a moment.

"It's a video game console," you want to take it out of the box and prove that it's not going to hurt him, but you don't want him getting any more surprised than he already is.

Against all odds, it seems you've got his attention because you can see his face now, head cocked to the side like a puppy. "A huh?"

"It connects to the television," nodding your head toward the flat screen next to you, "you can use it to play games on it."

He perks at that. "You can play checkers on the TV?"

Checkers wasn't what you had in mind, but you're sure it's on there.

There's a lot of fumbling involved. All the various cords and manuals only serve to confuse him more than he already is, and though he tries his best to help, he's not much assistance. There are less than five cords for the system, and he thinks they're all HDMI cables. But he's helpful when it comes to squeezing behind the television, at least.

"So that box...puts the game on the screen?" He asks as soon as you've settled onto the couch together, scooted as close as he can possibly get. "And you use that thing to play?"

For a cowboy who grew up in the days of black-and-white television, he catches on quickly. "For the most part, yes."

You'd won this thing in a raffle held down at the Bison Valley Bank of Wyoming, entered just for the hell out of it while you were down there a couple of months ago. How you won a new gaming console and why it came with a second controller, hot pink in color, you'll never know.

Rhett's simply poking at the joystick, unwilling to pick it up just yet, but you know he'll take to it like he did your television. Later, you'll wish you hadn't, but for now, you'll download one of his favorite board games.

"Monopoly?" He's fighting it, but there's still a twinge of excitement in his tone.

Now he's picking it up.

And within the hour, you regret even bringing the damn console into the house because you lose. Horribly. As soon as Rhett figured out the controls and the slight change in rules, you knew you didn't stand a chance. You can't even be upset about your crippling loss because he's kicking his legs back and forth and giggling.

"One more round?" He pleads, those opaque eyes sparkling with their childlike wonder, and you know he's never going to let this controller go.

"Let me get a drink, and then we'll play another," are you only agreeing because you enjoy the melody of laughter coming from your household ghost?

Absolutely not.

...okay, maybeyou are, but still.

At least he can't see your smile as you head for the kitchen, socked feet pattering across the cold hardwood without much of a sound. Already formulating a plan in your head, the next surprise move that might help you beat Rhett at one of his favorite games. If you can buy all four railroads before Rhett does...

The floor bends beneath your foot. Something crackles.

"Rhett, can you come here for a second?" Frozen in place, afraid to make another move. The lights are off; you can't see what's going on, but something feels wrong.

His presence is there before you can think any further, a chill ghosting over your body as he breezes around you. Circling like he's making an attempt at thwarting your fears before he flicks the light switch on.

And now you see it.

The kitchen floor is beginning to cave in, bowing inwards, right where your kitchen table sits. Beneath your foot, the tile has begun to crack, breaking into smaller pieces that cannot withstand any amount of weight on top of it.

"That floor's fixin' to collapse, doll," comes his voice, seemingly from all directions.

You're moving to step off of it and venture back out into the presumably safe hallway. But the floor crackles even louder. Tiles buckling beneath both of your feet. Sinking lower.

"I don't think I can," your body sways, fighting to remain upright.

Rhett's silently wrapping around you, formless blue mist shaping around you like a hug, tugging you away with a surprising amount of force. Practically takes your feet out from under you as he hauls you out of the kitchen.

"You're stronger than you look," you mutter in the hallway. Where the floor is solid and doesn't threaten to come out from under you.

"Only when I'm wantin' to be," he mutters directly into your ear, and you're suddenly glad that you've never asked how strong he is, as a ghost and all, "Now what kind of drink were you after?"

Rhett's your kitchen boy for the next three days until you can get someone to come and take a look at your floor. Balancing drinks and plastic cups that occasionally end in a tragic spill because he's not as good at balancing small objects. The first person never shows up; the second arrives bright and early in the morning, interrupting your morning conversation with Rhett on the porch.

"Now, like I said before, I don't have my equipment on me, so I can't guarantee you that this is the case," the guy begins, and you really, really hope he doesn't look up and see Rhett's dumbass sitting on the counter, "but my biggest guess is that your foundation has been exposed to too much moisture for too long."

"What's the worst-case scenario for this?" Your attention flickers between him and Rhett; what if it's something that you can't afford to fix?

He pauses to press his foot against the floor one more time, carefully surveying the way it shakes beneath the weight, tile crackling once more, "now it's highly unlikely, but worst case scenario, in my opinion, would be a sinkhole."

Your face drops.

"But that's highly unlikely," and he doesn't seem too concerned as he turns to face you, "I wouldn't worry until we get back out here and tear up the floor this coming Monday."

So Monday it is. That will be the day you find out if it's a simple fix or if you'll have no choice but to move out and leave your beloved house ghost all by his lonesome. Rhett seems to catch onto that thought, too. Remarkably quiet for the rest of the afternoon.

You can't blame him. For about forty-five years, this house was occupied by a family of religious folk who used some sort of herb to quite literally render Rhett into a state of unconsciousness. One too many surprise appearances in the mirror doomed him to sleep for all those years, only -reawakening after you moved in and scrubbed this old farmhouse from top to bottom.

He's never known what it's like to be alone. The closest he's come to it is the sporadic vacations you've taken over the past couple of years. None of which have lasted longer than a week, but all of which have ended in him waiting on the porch, tackling you the moment you stepped out of your car.

Unless he can attach himself to you, he'll never be able to wander further than the fields that surround your home.

Rhett doesn't take form again until Sunday night.

You don't know why you've drug these two lawn chairs out into the lawn, past the gravel that eats up the area around the house, but you have. Lounging, gazing up at the moon and stars hanging high above your heads, pointing out all the shapes you find amongst them.

The portable radio drones lowly in between you, stuck on the same old country station, ever since Rhett and his ghostly ways accidentally jammed it last summer.

"Do you wanna dance with me?"

And you don't know if...did you make that up in your head? Or was that just the radio?

"You know I'm not drunk this time, right?" Your head tilts, aiming to get a glimpse of him. He's already looking at you, smiles weakly as you meet his eye. Laying here, cloaked in the silvery light of the moon, he looks...real. If you reached out, you're sure you'd feel the scruff of his cheek scratch at your palm.

He hums, "I know." Pausing, just for a moment, to look up at the stars one more time. Your eyes follow, scanning the speckled sky, delighted to catch the tail end of a shooting star. You should make a wish...but you can't think of anything to wish for. "I just...wanted t' know what kinda dancer you are when you're sober."

"Alright," comes your answer; dry, nothing more to add to it.

And you don't know where it comes from, but Rhett reaches off to the side of his chair and plucks a translucent cowboy hat off the ground. Takes care to dust it off with his scarred palm, even though nothing can possibly dirty it, before carefully placing it atop his head.

He holds his hand out for you to take as if it's something that's become possible all of a sudden, and against better judgment, you do just that. Slipping your palm into the chilly illusion of his, deceiving yourself into believing that you feel his fingers curling around your hand. It's not, but as he leads you out further into the grass, it becomes easy to deceive yourself.

"Whoever taught you to dance, anyway?" You giggle as he spins you around; catches you by the waist when you come to face him once more.

He grins, big and wide, and you think you see his teeth glint in the moonlight. "You give amazin' lessons when you're drunk."

Oh, how easy it is.

Dancing beneath the moon, in nothing but your pajamas, held close by the ghost of a cowboy whose soul fits against your own like a puzzle piece. He doesn't know what he's doing, and if he were human, you're sure he'd be stepping on your feet, but he moves in such wonderous tune with your body that it feels like a daydream. His cold forehead rests against yours, ocean eyes peering deep into the deepest crevices of who you are.

You're drifting away from the grass and into the driveway, feet kicking up loose gravel with each and every step. Sweeping past your car, your shoulder narrowly avoids the passenger side mirror. You should be looking where you're going, you're going to drift too close to the porch and fall, but Rhett's gaze is so captivating that you can't bring yourself to look away.

How is it that your heart only longs for the ghost of a cowboy?

And why do you get the feeling that his heart utters the same for you?

"You're thinkin' awful hard," the hand that curls around your cheek feels so real, the vague callous of a thumb stroking beneath the corner of your eye.

"Just figuring out how I'm going to pack you up and take you with me," your words are a poorly collected lie; you both know it, but he doesn't call you out on it.

Oh, and he's pushing your noses together with all the boldness of a man who knows what he wants. Your fingers are trying to tangle in his hair, and it's of no use, but you do it anyway, uncaring of how your hands sink through that collection of mist.

"Take me with you, hm?" He's slowing to a stop, the arm around your waist drawing you closer to him. "What happens when y' find someone to settle down with? Y'gonna turn me into the ring bearer at the weddin'?"

"Fortunately," your gaze flickers down his face, and you're so, so sure he's real, "I've already found that someone."

Rhett has no need for oxygen, and yet he sucks in a breath of air anyway, a little reflex remaining even after all this time.

One of you should shut this down right here before it goes too far. But your arms are wrapping around those broad shoulders, precariously balanced upon the thick collection of mist that makes up Rhett Abbott's ghost. The hand on your cheek is dropping to cup your jaw, and the world spins even faster as both of you lean in. His cold breath fans out against your lips, your eyes meet one more time, and...

Kissing him is the only thing you have ever needed.

A heart-stopping boom tears through the silence. Glass shattering in hot pursuit. As your eyes flutter open, the kitchen light goes out.

"What was that?" Your feet are already moving, Rhett's form dissolving into a thin mist, following at your side.

"I don't know," his distant voice rings, "please be careful."

You can hardly heed his warning. Sweeping past the front door, not bothering to take your shoes off, as you head for the kitchen. It's too dark to see, forcing you to fumble for the dining room light that you never use. Your hands graze over the switch, flipping it on, and, and—

The kitchen floor is nearly gone.

Replaced by a deep, cavernous hole that seems to reach deep into the earth. Consumes over half of the floor where your table once sat, reaching from your cabinets to your teetering refrigerator, on the verge of falling in.

"I don't suppose you have any ideas on how to get your spirit to attach to a living person, do you?" You hope Rhett can't pick up on the shake in your tone; there's no way insurance will cover a damn sinkhole.

But your question is met with silence.

"Rhett?" You're turning, and...he's not there. The air is unusually warm, not a speck of mist to be found. "Rhett?" Trying again, louder this time, as you head for the door, because maybe he's outside, maybe he's...

He's not there either. Maybe he's upstairs. Yeah, when he panics, he usually hides out in his old bedroom. He's just upstairs.

The door slams shut.

A second crash follows suit; you don't want to know if that was your refrigerator or if the sinkhole expanded even further.

"Rhett, this isn't funny," shaking the door knob. Locked from the inside. "Rhett, open the door!"

He doesn't.

The windows are all locked down tight. Even the one you intentionally leave unlocked. You find your car keys sitting atop the roof of your car, the paint scratched from where they've been thrown from a distance.

Rhett's chilly presence doesn't visit you when you sleep in the car that night.

He's not there to spook the contractor when he and his crew arrive early in the morning. You don't find him sitting on the couch when they kick the door down, and he's not on your bed when you sneak up the stairs, even after you're warned against going to the second floor. He isn't even there when countless faces enter your home to check out just what is going on in your kitchen.

"I've never seen this before," one of them tells you, her brows furrowed as she looks at her clipboard once more, "but it's not a sinkhole at all."

You don't know if you heard her correctly. "It's not?"

"It's a fifteen-foot hole that must have been dug by a past owner," she pauses to flip through her phone, presenting you with a photo of...just a dirt hole. Nothing special about it in the slightest. "They never refilled it, either; it was only a matter of time before the foundation collapsed into it."

Your mind flickers to your seemingly non-existent ghost. Rhett's never told a lot about his murder, but you know for sure that it happened in the kitchen. "Did you find anything down there?"

That seems to give her pause, ink pen tapping idly against her lips as she rechecks her pages and pages of notes. "Aside from your refrigerator and debris from the collapse...," flicking through another page, "it was completely empty! Nothing to worry about."

Well, at least now you know Rhett's not buried beneath the kitchen floor.

Even worse, his spirit no longer lurks within the paper-thin walls of this century-old farmhouse. You call for him in the fields, disturbing the cattle your neighbor keeps, and you beg for him to be there when you crawl out of bed in the morning. But the house remains warm; the only mist you find is in the fog that settles over your home after it rains, and he doesn't come out to mess with the teen boys employed to carry in bags of dirt, to fill the hole with.

Doesn't even appear when Trevor's F-150, with its irritating color-shifting paint, pulls into the driveway one evening.

"And so there was just a hole under your floor this whole time?" He's sitting in Rhett's favorite spot, cheap beer balanced carelessly between his legs. Has already spilled it once, leaving a stain on your cushion, and you'd tell him off if you weren't hoping it would infuriate Rhett into showing his face.

"The going theory is that one of the past owners dug it," glancing toward the mirror as you speak; still no ghost.

"I bet you more than anything that it's related to that Abbott murder," Trevor says, picking his drink up once more.

Your heart lurches in your chest. "Murder?"

"Did the realtor not tell ya?" Why is he scratching his cheek with the edge of his beer can? "That uh...what's his name? Perry, that's right, got into it with his brother and beat 'em to death in the kitchen."

"They told me someone died, but they never really elaborated," you mutter as he scoots a little closer. "Do you know what the argument was about?"

Trevor's heavy arm slings over your shoulder, drawing you near, musky cologne rudely meeting your nose. This is the same man you've been pursuing for months, so why is it that all of a sudden, your stomach churns at his touch? "Think it was...mmm, I think it was over some broad that went missing a couple of months before. Perry's wife, fiance, or something like that."

The alcohol on his breath has your senses reeling, overwhelmed with a sudden onset of nausea. Rhett didn't have much of a scent, but the little he carried was nothing but leather and honeyed sweetness. Your memory of his touch is brief, can count on one hand the amount of times he wrapped an arm around you, but he never dragged you into his chest like Trevor does.

"I'm sorry," speaking gently, you slide out from under his arm, rising to your feet, "I can't do this."

Trevor's face falls; you already regret speaking up, "what do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, I thought I could, but I just..." shaking your head, eyes landing on the hot pink controller that Rhett once played with, "I can't."

"The fuck do you mean you can't?" He's shooting up from his seat, beer can hitting the floor, the golden liquid splashing across the hardwood.

Your mouth is opening, but you don't get a chance to speak.

"You sure could when you were begging me to stay in this freaky ass house of yours last week!" Roaring, face twinging with red as he tries to close the space between you. Your heart is pounding in your ears. Loud bangings that rattle you so hard the house seems to shake with it. "You put me through all this just to tell me no?"

"I didn't put you through a damn thing!" Your voice echoes through the house, tone fierce, yet your feet timidly take one step back for each one Trevor takes forward. The floor seems to tremble beneath you. An earthquake that only you can feel.

Trevor's quiet at that.

You'd rather if he just yelled.

Because now he's got you creeping backward, and there's only so much space you can back up into. Your voice is caught in your throat. Stifled by something invisible. Mouth opening, but nothing comes out. The light in the kitchen goes out. Glitters of gold flitter past your head like tiny sugar plum fairies.

All of a sudden, Trevor lurches toward you.

Your head smacks against the wall. Jumping away from him.

"You think that little of me," he laughs, incredulous, "you think that fucking little of me?"

"Trevor." Your voice bursts past your lips. Shaky. But there. "Stop."

"Or what, huh?" Spit hits your face. His hand slams next to your head. Breaking through the drywall. "You owe me! I didn't spend all this goddamn time just for you to up and change your little fucking mind!"

"They asked you to stop." That's not your voice.

And it's not Trevor's, either.

Heavy boots thump across the floor. Spurs jingling with every step. Next to your head, a dirt-covered hand takes hold of Trevor's wrist. Muscles flex as it tears Trevor's fist out of the wall. Shoves it into his chest.

Trevor's reddened face has gone stark white. Trips over his own boots as a hulking, dirt-coated figure steps in front of you. Broad shoulders, covered by a vaguely patterned flannel; plaid, it looks like. Dark brown curls rest at his nape, unruly hair flowing freely. Suspiciously similar to...

"Who the fuck is this?" Trevor's still backing up, and this vaguely familiar man eats up every inch of space that's put between them.

"The house ghost." And that's...that's...

Trevor runs for the door before you can finish your thought. Slams it shut behind himself, like it'll keep him from being followed. Truck already rumbling to life. Downright roaring as the vehicle tears out of the driveway, sending gravel clanking against your windows.

But that's not what you're paying attention to.

Truly, you should be concerned about your windows being broken. But all you can do is look towards your kitchen because the light flickers back on. Gives you a momentary glance at a bottomless hole that's returned once more. Leaving behind no trace of the dirt that once filled it. Thin wisps of gold dance through it like an aurora, seemingly alive as they move.

You blink, and it's halfway gone. The edges shrinking inward until the hole is no more. Leaving behind that same freshly packed dirt.

Leaving behind...

"Rhett?"

He jolts at the sound of his name. As if he's surprised you're even speaking to him. Has yet to speak; confirm it's really him, but you already know the answer to that. He turns. Slow. And you can't help but wonder if that really is dirt because it seems to be fading away.

Slow, your hand drifts out from your side, and when your fingers curl around his jaw, you don't know if it's you who sucks in a breath of air or him.

Scruffy. Unshaven face scratching at your soft palm, dirt sticking to your skin as your thumb soothes over a remaining patch stuck to his cheek. Warm. He's warm. And he's hesitantly pushing his head into your hand, and, and—

"Rhett." You say it once more. The only thing you know how to say.

Tears well in those eyes. They're as blue as you ever could have hoped they would be. So, so real, not a shred of translucence to their color. One spills over onto his cheek, rolling until it's caught and wiped away by your thumb.

His arms are moving, hesitant to wrap around you, and you know he's worried about getting dirt on you, but the only thing you care about is stepping into him. Wrapping your trembling arms around that big, warm body of his and feeling him squeeze you into his chest. Where his heart beats heavy, thunking against you with the strength of an ox.

"I don't know how..." he whispers, hot breath tickling your neck, where he's buried his face.

"You're still an ass for locking me out of my own house," you're trying to sound irritated, but it's difficult to feign annoyance when he squeezes you a little tighter.

"Didn't want you bein' sucked in like I was," it's so strange to hear his voice like this, no longer a disembodied sound, "I...it just...kept suckin' me in every time I got out."

You're leaning away, and God, you don't want to leave those strong, trembling arms, but you want to see that face of his even more. The wrinkles beneath his eyes, the wobble of thin, chapped lips as they rise into a meager smile.

The callouses of his fingers drag against the soft skin of your cheek as his big hand settles there. Not the misty, barely there touch you're used to, but just as gentle as it's always been. His nose bumps against yours. Don't know who's leaning in. You shouldn't. You shouldn't do this.

This time, you know for sure that it's you who closes the gap between your bodies. It's you who catches this cowboy's lips in your own, reveling in that surprised gasp of his.

If you thought that kissing his ghost was heaven, then this is something else entirely.

Molding together like you were made just for this, his hand on your cheek and yours delving into his messy hair. Feeling the strength of the arm that curls around your waist and breathing in those faint notes of leather and honey and something warm that you can't quite place.

He pauses for a moment, breaks into a big, dumb smile as you meet his eye once more. And then he leans in to kiss you once more, hands cradling your cheeks, like you're a delicate flower whose petals will fall if he doesn't hold you together. His body shudders with something torn between a giggle and a sob, tears rolling down his cheeks, but he's smiling so much that your teeth clack together.

Your name tumbles off of his lips. Then again and again, like he's trying to memorize the feel of it in his mouth. The way it rolls off his tongue and twists through the air, the sound seeming to kiss your ears when it meets them.

"Rhett," mirroring him, and oh, how he perks at that. Has he always reacted so beautifully to you calling his name?

"Say it again," his nose bumps against yours as he speaks, "Please. Wanna hear you say it again." So eager to hear you that he looks two steps away from a puppy, the tears in his eyes shimmering with wonder as you open your mouth once more.

"Rhett," you whisper, like it's a secret shared on the playground, and then, again, "Rhett."

This time, when your back hits the wall, it's because a bright-eyed cowboy is carefully backing you into it, one hand protecting the back of your head as he dresses his body against yours. Smiling too much to kiss you, can't seem to get over the feeling of your skin against his, the overwhelming reality of whatever this is.

"We probably shouldn't be..." Higher thinking rushes back to your head in a whirlwind, thoughts running wild in the darkest crevices of your mind. What if's and why's and wonderings of how this happened, if it's permanent or temporary. "What if we cross that line, and you go back to being a ghost?"

You don't think you'll ever adjust to the sound of Rhett breathing or the way his eyelashes flutter as he thinks for a moment. He's licking his lips, mouth opening, and, "What if we don't cross that line and spend our whole lives regrettin' it?" 

One too many kisses may leave you longing for him for the rest of your life, but one too few may leave you carrying eternal heartache. And that's only if he goes back to being a ghost. But he feels real. When you press your palm to his chest, his warm hand covers it, guiding it to rest over his beating heart. Little thumpings that shouldn't be there, full of life and love and all just for you. 

He could have come back to life for anyone. But he came back for you. 

To hell with it. 

Your bodies collide like galaxies. Blinded by a frantic kiss that promises bruises to your lips. Flecks of gold fall from his body as your hands roam, tugging at a flannel, at his hair, at his hands. Legs tangling because you're moving too quickly, and he's still adjusting to walking rather than floating. 

Only break apart long enough to tumble up the stairs; Rhett almost trips over every one of them. Struggling to keep his confidence but boosted along by the kisses you pepper to his reddened cheeks and the gentle tuggings of your hand in his. 

Your back hits the bed with all the grace of a newborn fawn, Rhett tumbling right along with you, chuckling into the crook of your neck. Under the dim lighting of your bedroom lamp, it's easy to catch onto the deep bruising that scatters beneath his right eye. 

"These are from Perry, aren't they," it's more of an observation than a question, your fingers soothing over the marks as if they can somehow heal them.

Rhett's pressing a kiss to your wrist as it roams past, "Don' wanna think 'bout that son 'f a bitch right now."

You can work with that. 

Especially when your bodies squirm further up the bed, his hips settling between your legs, forearms bracing themselves on either side of your head, heaving chests against one another. His lips solid against your own, hungry, urged on by the nails that dig into his shoulders for leverage. 

"You'll tell me if I'm goin' too far?" He's speaking into your kiss, unwilling to remove himself any further. 

Maybe there's a second ghost in this house because something possesses you to roll your hips up into his. Such a faint pressure, the rough bulge in his jeans rubbing against your soft pajama shorts, but it's so much compared to what used to be. "I will," you're interrupted by his mouth once more, "but I'm sure you'll be the one asking me to stop before the end of the night." 

Your hand has a mind of its own, wandering down his chest, flattening out to feel the muscles that ripple along his stomach, hidden from view by his shirt. They flex under your touch, a simple thing that makes your head spin. By some method of madness, that shirt is still tightly tucked into his jeans, the material hard to get ahold of. 

Rhett shifts above you, unintentionally moving when you feel for some slack in his shirt, something to get ahold of, and your hand wildly overshoots. Palm splaying out against the front of his jeans instead. 

"'m not so sure 'bout that, sweetheart," he groans, a deep, guttural noise escaping him as he reaches down, catches your fleeting hand, and guides you to press against him once more.  "I ain't had a dick for the better half of a fuckin' century." 

These old jeans are thick, but even so, you can still feel him twitch against your touch. This wasn't what you were aiming for in the slightest, but watching him shiver as you massage over the outline of his bulge is a hell of a sight. 

"Sensitive," you're only lightly teasing; any more words and you'll be fumbling with his belt buckle.

"You're one to talk," he mutters, head dropping to press his lips to the meet of your jaw, teeth tugging the skin there. 

You think your eyes may pop out of your head. "I thought you promised to stay out of my bedroom when I didn't invite you in." 

"Wasn't in the bedroom, baby," he's chuckling, breath tickling your ear as he works his way towards it, "When you're a ghost, you hear everythin'." 

Then he's leaning back, leaves you feeling cold as he fumbles with his jeans, boots hitting the floor with two solid thunks. An involuntary whine works its way out of you, reaching aimlessly for him. 

"Don't wanna get y'all dirty, sweetheart," he soothes, catching your hand and pressing kisses to your knuckles. Pops open his belt buckle with a pinch of his fingers, and soon those dirty jeans are sliding off, revealing milky white thighs, mottled with bright spots of red and deep purples,  a badly bruised knee to match.

...as well as a pair of boxers patterned with bright red hearts. 

"Y'ain't gonna believe me," Rhett's staring down at them too, teeth worrying his bottom lip, "but I have no fuckin' memory of wearin' these." The tips of his ears have gone bright red. Another quirk hidden until now. 

"We'll get them off soon enough, I'm sure," you say, leaning up to let him peel your shirt over your head. 

As soon as it's out of sight, Rhett's lips return to your neck, one wandering hand soothing up your side, not stopping until it reaches your breast. Does nothing more than feel you in his hand, sucking at a soft spot beneath your ear that has you fighting the urge to close your eyes. 

Your hands wander, one wrapping around a surprisingly muscled bicep while the other delves between your bodies once more. Feeling down his sturdy chest, past his stomach, and not stopping until you can take hold of him through his boxers. 

"Fuck," his body jolts, "'re you sure 'm not dreamin'?"

"I thought ghosts didn't sleep?" You're parroting something you so clearly recall him mentioning in the past, can't place the memory yet. Don't really care to, either. The only thing on your mind is the way your fingers wander past his waistband, wrapping around his cock that jumps at your touch. 

He's thicker than you imagined he'd be. 

Moans prettier, too, for that matter. A little bit breathy and so Rhett. 

"Hands of yours are so fuckin' small," he's muttering in between kisses as he works his way back to your lips. Can't kiss you because a jolted grunt interrupts him, a symphony of sounds as you slowly stroke him. Oversensitive, the first touch he's felt in decades.

His hair drops into his face, acts as a curtain when you look down to where your hand is working him. Can hardly see what you're doing, but you do catch a glimpse of precum beading at his flushed tip, hearing his gasp when your thumb swipes over it. 

"Y'need to stop that," he huffs, voice nothing but air, "gonna...fuck, 'm gonna cum if you keep..." And despite asking you to stop, he grumbles when you let go of him. 

Hands now free, you reach for your shorts, not sure why you feel so shy when he helps you tug them down your legs; it's not like he hasn't seen you naked before. From you forgetting he's there to him accidentally floating into the shower while you were using it. 

But these eyes are not the translucent ones you're used to, with their expression hidden by deviations in his mist. No, these eyes darken as they drink up the sight of you, every little thought in his head spoken through his gaze. But even as he kicks his boxers off, shirt going right along with it, you can't help but feel like hiding under the sheets. 

"'ve I ever told you that you're beautiful?" His voice breaks the silence, stroking the inside of your knee as he speaks. 

You don't have words for that. 

He doesn't need them. 

You really don't have words for when he takes hold of your wrist, guiding it up and taking two of your fingers into his mouth. Tongue carefully swirling around each of them, soaking them with a content hum. Your eyebrows furrow, to which he raises his other hand. Dirt beneath his nails and caught in the wrinkles of his hand. 

Ah.

Reluctantly, you pull your fingers from his warm mouth, and you're pleasantly surprised to find that there's hardly any resistance when you press them inside. Open and already wet, helped along by a moment of fun you'd had in the morning, hoping a familiar ghost may come to help you along. 

"How did you know I kept my lube in the bottom drawer?" You can't help but ask, watching as he fishes around for it. 

The tips of his ears are red again. "I learned the hard way not to float through bedside tables."

He's the one who uncaps the container, but it's you who reaches out for him to pour it into your palm. Not because you're concerned with dirt but because you want to feel him in your hand again. Twitching when you take hold of him, a thick vein running along the side of his length. He has to stifle a noise with each stroke, squeezing your knee all the while. 

"You're sure you're ready for me?" He asks when you urge him closer. 

"I'm sure I'll be fine, cowboy," fighting back a noise as you guide him down, letting him push between your folds, some lazy, teasing thing that has his plush head dragging past your clit. Sensitive, almost has you considering making him fuck you like this instead. 

But he's catching against your entrance, and you've daydreamed about this man too many times to pass up the opportunity. 

That tentative, forward tilt of his hips is enough to make your head spin. Pressure blooming as he pushes into you, careful, like you'll shatter into a million pieces if he's too quick. 

"Rhett," you whisper, don't quite know why. 

"'m here," he's coming back down, nose pressing against yours in his own little way of reassurance, "I've got you."

Your earlier rendezvous didn't end well for you, but you're so thankful for it in hindsight because his cock stretches you wide. Blunt head dragging against your walls, massaging past the bundle of nerves you couldn't seem to find with a toy, your thighs squeezing his pale hips. 

"So tight for me," he pauses about midway, or what you think is midway, at least, "you're sure 'm not hurtin' you?"

Your head spins, loose on your shoulders, "I'm okay." 

With a noise of his own, Rhett starts to move again, draws back a little before pushing further, and you can't help but wonder if he's holding his breath. Your nails bite into his shoulders, hanging on as he finally bottoms out, now flush against you. His mouth moves, but he can't speak. Only capable of releasing a shaky breath, lazily catching your lips in his.

He doesn't need to be asked to move, catching on the moment you grind yourself against him. Withdrawing slow, shallow, before pushing back in, and you're so, so full. Clinging to his shoulders to stay in place, feeling like you'll float away when he brushes against those nerves again.

Fuck, he's just begun to move, and you're already biting your lip. Don't know how you're going to keep yourself quiet because he massages past that little spot every time he moves, never lets it alone. 

His thumb pulls your lip out from between your teeth, "Let me hear you, darlin'."

His words alone have your cunt fluttering around him, and you're leaning into the palm that cups your cheek, mouth falling open. "Rhett, fuck."

You don't think you need to reach down between your bodies, but you do anyway, fingers pressing to your long-neglected clit. Working in tandem with Rhett's quickening hips, jolting as his angle shifts.

"There?" He says as if he hasn't already found that damned spot. All you can manage is a nod, a whimpered 'uhuh' escaping you. 

And he's doubling down, cock head kissing that oversensitive spot again and again. Grins wickedly when you shudder beneath him, nails dragging down his pale shoulders, panting into his mouth.

"Fuck, this sweet lil' pussy of yours feels so good 'round me," he groans, thrusts becoming harder now that he's remembered the ropes. Heavy balls smacking against you, and you really hope there aren't any more house ghosts who can hear the sinful sounds whistling through the air. "'s this what you've been needin', hm? 

"Rhett," you don't know how to speak, his name tumbling off your tongue.

"Bringin' home all those dates that could never make you cum," his voice dropping an octave deeper, damn near growling, but the softness in his eyes suggest he wouldn't hurt a fly. "Wouldn't have terrorized 'em if they woulda treated you better." 

That's why he chased them all off? God, how many times did you bring someone home, thinking he was gone? And how many times has he daydreamed about having you beneath him, whimpering his name as he fucks you nice and proper. 

You should be mad, but you can't. Not when you're falling apart at the seams, hand sliding from his shoulders, barely clinging to his bicep. Bounced by every heavy thrust, can't keep your fingers on your pulsing clit, tightening around him as something warm blossoms between your legs.

And he must be able to feel it because his eyes flicker into the back of his head, if only for a moment. "You gonna cum on my cock for me, sweetheart?" 

This is new. Fuck, this is so, so new and so much. No longer able to keep your eyes open, tongue lazy in your mouth, words long forgotten as you try to nod your head. Mind clouded with thoughts of Rhett, Rhett, Rhett. 

"Shit, y'got me so damn close, baby," he rasps, hair tickling your cheek as he presses kisses there, "You want me to cum on those cute thighs of yours? Or your sweet little tummy?" 

You don't have the answer to that question. Distracted by the crumbling of his rhythm, thrusts growing shaky, in perfect tune with the tightening coil in your lower belly. Almost there. Almost there. 

He's still talking. "Or would you rather I cum nice 'n deep in this pretty pussy of yours," you regret opening your eyes. All you see is the sweat beading at his forehead and strong hips working you over. Fat cock disappearing into your wet pussy, elicits a dizzying squelch every time. "Pump you nice 'n full of me, just so you'll need me to fuck it out of ya in the mornin'." 

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where's your voice? Where's your voice? "I-inside."

Rhett's breathy "yeah?" is all you fucking need. Your back rises up off the mattress, head tilting back with a silent cry as you cum around his cock.

"There you go," Each pump of his length into you only sends your head higher up into the stratosphere. Whimpering, clamping down around him as a shudder washes over you. "Feel so good when you're clampin' 'round me like that." 

And he's still fucking going. Fucking you through it, beating against that bundle of nerves even when you begin to tremble, after-shocks still tearing through you. 

"Hang on for me, baby," his eyes are bolted shut, chasing his high, biceps shaking, so, so close. 

"Please, Rhett," you whisper, your hand soothing over his hardened face. Those deep blues flutter open, softening at the sight of you, like he's just seen an angel "Cum for me." 

A whimper tumbles past his lips,  a second one follows suit, and then those eyes are closing once more, hips stuttering to a halt as his orgasm hits him. Tiny noises escaping his chest, burying his face in the crook of your neck, the familiar tune of your name tumbling off his sweet tongue. Filling you with his cum, making good on his promise, jolting as you involuntarily pulse around him.

For a while, the air is silent. 

Until Rhett lifts his head and kisses up your sensitive neck, sending you into a fit of giggles. "C'n we take a bath t'gether?" He murmurs, seemingly shy, unable to meet your eye.

"So long as you agree to bubbles, baby." Baby. You don't think you've ever called him that. 

You can't wait to do it again.

For decades, the folks of Wabang, Wyoming, have whispered the tale of two brothers. Gossiping about a murder they presumed to have taken place, for they knew that Perry Abbott was a violent man, and it was only a matter of time before his little brother became the next punching bag. 

Never have they whispered about the hole that opened beneath the kitchen floor, swallowing Rhett's near-lifeless body up, escorting him to an unknown safety while leaving his lonely spirit behind. They don't know of the decades he spent forced into an unnatural slumber, only to be awoken by another lonely soul with a heart made of the same glass as his own. 

Nobody giggles about how a human scared a ghost or chatters about the adventures they've shared in that century-old farmhouse. They do not know of the arguments, and the boyfriends lost because a ghost wanted the best for his friend, appearing in mirrors and whispering their deepest insecurities into their ears. Worse, they don't roll their eyes over the many tales of him banging a cast iron skillet on the tile just to see them run.

But you do. 

Only you know of how Rhett smiles, big and dopey, as you take him into town for the first time in decades. You are the only person who gets to explain what self-driving cars are and roll your eyes as some new thing scares him into jumping behind you. Nobody else gets to take him on a road trip, watch him fight with a GPS for the first time, and introduce him to the ocean and the concept of crabs.

"Why are they shaped like that?" Rhett's stumbling after you; not sure if he likes or hates this little creature, only knows that he wants to follow you. "Why is he following me?" 

You wish you could see the little bugger, but it's so dark that you can hardly tell where you're going. The only light you have is a dull light in the parking lot and the silver moon hanging high above your head.

"Probably because you've pissed him off," you laugh, holding your hand out when he reaches for it, "are you going to survive two more nights this close to the beach, or do I need to take you back to the pasture?"

He hums, loud and dramatic as he can manage, scratches his freshly shaved chin for added effect, "I suppose I'll survive, but if that crab kills me, I'm comin' back as a ghost and suin'."

From the moment your feet are on the cool concrete of the parking lot, Rhett's spinning you around. It's still the only thing he knows how to do, and his feet tangle with yours a little more than they should, but oh, is it as magical as that night in your driveway.

"'ve I ever told you that I love you?" He smiles as he speaks; knows he says this every time you wind up dancing beneath the moon.

"Never," feigning surprise, as he pulls you in close, noses bumping together, "but I love you more."

And then you're running. Squealing as Rhett sets hot on your trail. He'll catch you before you so much as reach the hotel doors, trap you in his arms, and insist that no, he loves you more, punctuating every word with a wet, sloppy kiss. And you're so excited for it that you think you may let him catch you early. 

Perry took away a lifetime from Rhett. 

You're more than happy to give him a life worth waiting centuries for. 

Even if he does still refer to himself as the house ghost.

[bamnamuu]

that’s how you get the girl - riki nishimura

01. you do you king !

| w.count 811 | warnings cursing, typos probably lmk if there's anything else | em’s note. i love this so very much and i’m happy i’m finally posting it | masterlist | next part |

Looking around the crowded cafeteria to find your best friend shouldn't be this difficult, Riki Nishimura is about 7 feet tall you could find him anywhere, just not right now apparently. You and Riki have a daily routine: you meet by the old music classroom at lunch that looks over the courtyard where most of the freshmen are greeted by the stern-faced principal yelling at them for being on the grass. Unfortunately, you stood by that room for 10 minutes waiting for him only to walk towards the high school cafeteria upset. It wasn’t uncommon for Riki to eat lunch with his other friends, but he would always tell you when he would. Finally spotting his upper-class friends you still don't see Riki until you feel a large figure behind you. ‘’ what are you doing?’’ he said with a smirk. ''Jesus Christ I was about to kick you in the shins!’’ you say squaring up at Riki. ''where were you?’’ you add to which he leaves your question unanswered he just simply looks at you confused ''Where was I?? Where were you?’’ he said putting to much emphasis on his 'I' , poor boy didn't know his teasing would only cause you to start biting him out ''Seriously Riki I waited for you by the music room for like 15 minutes!’’ you say bringing your hands up to count but he stops you before you can finish ''Ok fine I wasn’t at the music room…I was watching Rei’’ ''ew perv’’ you said teasing ''It's not like that I swear!’’ your tall friend said defensively ‘’Mr. Park made her carry a whole bunch of shit up to the top floor and I just wanted to make sure she didn’t fall’’ you couldn't help but roll your eyes at his statement ''you could have also helped her you know ?’’ you said which made Riki practically laugh ''and get in the crossfire of Mr. Park? Fuck no!’’

This wasn't a new thing for you to be the 'third wheel’ between Riki and Rei, he’s been head over heels in love with her since you guys started high school, and to act like it didn’t crush you to see him like her, you deserve an oscar. However your very good friend Riki was an absolute dud is an understatement, for three years he's talked to her at least 7 times, he was a lost cause until he asked you ''y/n do you think you can help me talk to her?’’ he said quiet enough for only you to hear ''WHAT!’’ you say spitting out your water. The two of you were walking back to the music room until you stopped walking just to stare up at him. ''You want me to what!?’’ you whisper-scream at him ''I said help me talk to Rei, you have way more experience in this field and i trust you’’ he said dragging out the word ‘way’ You kept staring at him not answering his question leading him to add to this already strange situation, ''please y/n i will never ask for anything else EVER AGAIN!’’ Riki said pleading ''Now that i don’t believe it, why do you want me to help you I don't know Rei?’’ you say hoping he’ll realize how strange this request is and drop it, but to your dismay, he continues ''yeah yeah you don't know rei but you're in the same science class as her.’’ ''you want me to stalk her? Do you want me to go up to her and ask her what her favorite element is?’’ you hear Riki let out a laugh. ''No but will you help me at least talk to her?’’ he said, his laugh dying down, ''You want me to help you get confidence? Ki, I'm not sure I can do that!’’ you said patting him on his shoulder only for him to shrug you off ''you know what I mean y/n please’’ he said turning to look you in the eyes, any thought that you have of getting out of this situation left your mind the second you saw his eyes, this is not going to end well and you knew it but you can’t say no to him ''fine’’ and with that, Riki did a victory dance and excitedly hugged you.

Lunch period ended and you headed to your class which just so happens to be science. You had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other fighting over which way you deal with this situation you could help your best friend be with the girl he’s been pining after for what feels like centuries, or you could use all of your and Riki’s savings and move to Ireland and leave Riki in his sad sad life without you. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket as you sat down.

Summary After being best friends with Riki Nishimura for what seems like your entire life, you two have a close bond one that many are jealous of. So when one day he asked you to help him talk to his long time crush, you couldn’t tell him no and risk the truth of your own feelings for him to spill. Could Riki be chasing after the wrong girl? Can you keep your secret hidden? Will Sunghoon ever get his hot chocolate?

[impala-dreamer]

Like An Animal

~Left alone with Soldier Boy, Y/N has to try to hold her own against America's First Superhero and his deliciously dirty ideas...~

Ben (Soldier Boy) x F!Reader

2,854 Words

Warnings: NSFW, Cat and Mouse, Rough Sex, Breeding!Kink, Filthy and Delicious

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works  ~  Buy Me A Coffee  ~  Feedback is Gold

Y/N thought she was safe when Butcher and Hughie left. Ben- Soldier Boy- Whatever The Fuck His Name Was- was calm, deep into his second bottle of whiskey and watching the news. Every so often he would laugh at something the reporter said or shake his head at a random commercial, yell at the screen as if they could hear him. He was high as a kite and flooded with booze, but he seemed to handle it well.

She watched from the sofa across the room as he rocked back on the creaky wooden chair at the table and stuffed a handful of fries into his mouth. As handsome as he was, he was pretty disgusting. She didn’t mind the trimmed beard and haircut, though. The loose gray sweat pants he wore weren’t turning her away either. Every time he moved, her gaze would unconsciously shoot right to his crotch.

It was clear Hughie hadn’t brought him any shorts.

The snake in his pants moved as the chair teetered on two legs and Y/N let out a heavy breath that caught his attention.

“You alright over there?” he growled, deep voice crackling in her ears.

She looked up, embarrassed, and felt her cheeks burn under his gaze. “Yeah. Whatever.” She turned away quickly and pretended to check her phone. “I’m fine.”

Ben grinned. “You sure are.”

Her stomach tensed. “Excuse me?”

The chair hit the floor with a thud as he sat up right. Green eyes fell over her body and Ben bit down into his bottom lip, checking her out. “I said, you’re hot.”

There was no way to deny the stream of warmth that trickled down her spine, but Y/N did her best to ignore it.

“Actually you said I was fine, but whatever. Go back to your burger.”

“Not hungry for that,” he teased, leaning forward and rubbing his giant palms down his thighs.

Her mouth watered and she swallowed it down quickly. “You’re out of your mind.”

“Am I?” He ran his tongue across his top teeth, glaring at her like a lion stalking a deer. “Been locked up for a few decades… I could use a little… release.”

Her heart raced.

“If you know what I mean…”

Y/N pushed away the threat of arousal and rolled her eyes. “Unfortunately, I do. But I think breaking you out of your pod was all of the release you’re going to be getting.”

Ben tipped his head back a bit and laughed. Her eyes found his thick throat from across the room and her pussy clenched. She held her breath, desperate to calm down, but his stare was too strong, his presence too intoxicating suddenly.

“You know what I think?” he asked, pushing himself up to his feet.

Y/N shrugged. “I don’t really care-”

“I think you’re lying,” he answered for himself, slowly moving across the room. “In fact, I know you are.”

The closer he got, the faster her heart raced. Her hands trembled around her phone and she shoved them down into the cushions.

“And you’d know that how?”

Ben stopped short, bare toes digging into the ugly carpet. The long shadow in his sweatpants moved and Y/N’s eyes went right for it.

He grinned. “Because I can hear your heart pounding.” He reached out for her, long fingers hovering over her cheek. “I can see the sweat on your skin, the color bursting beneath…”

She sucked in a hard breath and the scent of him flooded her brain. Grease and cheap soap and something heavy underneath it all, something warm and smooth and utterly delicious.

Still, she tried to push it all away. “It’s just warm in here,” she whispered, barely able to move her tongue as his fingers landed on her cheek.

He brushed them downwards and over, gently plucking at her lips. “About to get a hell of a lot warmer too…”

He sounded so sure, so confident that he could get what he wanted that Y/N snapped out of her lustful stupor and slapped his hand away.

“You’re a pig,” she spat, jumping up from the couch and moving away from him. “You can’t just put your hands on me like that.”

Unphased, he smoothly spun on the spot to face her. “Can’t I?”

“No!”

The slight turn of his plump lips made her ears buzz and her nipples harden.

“I think I can…”

He took a step closer and Y/N shivered.

“You can fuck off is what you can do,” she warned, voice barely a gasp over the rush of blood in her head.

“I think I can fuck you.”

Violently, she shook her head and backed up. “Never.”

“Really?” He dipped his chin and countered her steps. “Because I can hear the wetness dripping from your pretty little pussy.”

Her jaw dropped. “That’s not- You can’t-”

Ben tapped his left ear. “Super hearing. Also, it’s written all over your face, doll.”

Y/N jolted when her back hit the wall, her entire frame stiffening as he inched closer. “Stay back.”

“And what are you gonna do if I don’t?”

His toes hit hers and he leaned in, placing his right hand on the wall beside her head.

“Can’t shoot me…”

His left hand mirrored the right and Y/N’s chest heaved with labored breaths as she found herself caged.

“Can’t out run me…”

The heat pushing off of him was nearly too much for Y/N to take and she stared up into his emerald eyes, wishing he would rip her apart.

“Can’t even move right now, can you?”

Y/N’s gaze fell from his eyes to his lips and she shook her head slowly.

He pressed in closer, the tip of his nose brushing lightly against hers.

“You’re stuck here with me and there’s nothing you can do about it. Those boys left you behind like an offering. A vestal fucking virgin just waiting to be destroyed.”

His hand slid from the wallpaper and landed on the side of her face. Y/N shuddered at the heat of his touch and stood frozen as he traced her jaw with one long finger.

“They-” She stammered, quickly losing the ability to think as the pad of his index finger reached her chin and dipped beyond the cliff. “They wanted me to watch you…”

Ben smiled softly and cocked his head to the side. His eyes were dark and vicious, his target set.

“That’s fine,” he whispered, lips drawing nearer as he fit his massive hand around her throat. “You can keep your eyes open.”

His lips were softer than she expected, framed by the bristling beard, and her eyes rolled shut as he forced his kiss upon her. Trembling, she shoved at his firm shoulders but it made no difference. He wouldn’t budge. His tongue slipped across her lips and Y/N moaned despite herself.

Ben took a breath and looked down at her with a sinister grin.

“I hate you,” she hissed.

“No,” he laughed, “I don’t think you do.”

Again he licked at her lips and this time she gave in, opening up for him as the grip on her delicate throat tightened. He squeezed and she gasped, eyes fluttering closed as his hot tongue plunged into her mouth.

His elbow buckled and Ben dropped his entire weight down over her, crushing her into the plaster. She struggled beneath him, squirming against his kiss, his heat, the smell of him, the taste. Her head was spinning when he grabbed her arms and tugged, lifting her clean off of her feet.

She fought for a breath, choking back a scream as he flung her down onto the messy bed. The sheets were askew, the pillows out of place. An empty bag of chips crushed beneath her back and Y/N flailed to catch her balance while the springs creaked.

“Well that finally shut you up.” Ben licked her kiss from his lips and tugged the jersey from his shoulders.

“Me?” Y/N crawled up to the headboard to steady herself. “You’re the one who hasn’t stopped talking.”

He chuckled under his breath and set one knee on the bed. “I’m about to…”

Every drop of sass and resistance in her died away when he fell to his hands and knees at her feet. The light sparked on the deep ridges of his shoulders and arms, shadows played along the thick ropes of his neck. Her stomach tightened and she let go, begging with wide eyes for him to have his way.

His big hand fell to her right ankle and Y/N sucked in a quick breath as he yanked her down to him. In one swift motion, she was lying helpless beneath him, trapped once more by his powerful arms.

He was stunning. Absolutely gorgeous and deadly and horrible and Y/N couldn’t last another second. She reached up, fingers twisting in the thin cotton of his undershirt. She tugged and he dipped down, nipping at her lips with a biting kiss that set her blood on fire.

“Fuck…”

The mattress shifted as he pushed a knee between her thighs. “Is that a request?”

Tiny fingers clawed at the tank top and Y/N ripped the fabric, tearing it at the collar. “I thought you were gonna shut the fuck up now-”

“So bitchy,” he breathed, licking at her lips. “I love it.”

Y/N pushed her hands up into his thick hair, pulling at the long locks while his suckling mouth traveled down her throat. He paused over her pulse and pressed his teeth threateningly over the throbbing artery.

“I could kill you, you know…”

His growling whisper made her body shake and her thighs clenched around his knee.

Her fingers tensed in his hair. “Kill me and the fun stops…”

He laughed against her collarbone and took a quick bite. “Maybe I’ll hold off then.”

Y/N yanked on his hair, lifting his face from the crook of her neck. “Good choice.”

Distracted by her bruising kiss, Ben let himself be moved. Y/N kicked with all her might and managed to roll him onto his back. He sank into the mattress and followed her with hungry eyes while she kicked off her jeans and straddled his trim waist. She pushed down on his dick and he hissed at the damp warmth that passed through his sweats. He kicked his knees up and knocked her forward into his arms.

“Slick,” she teased, tits crushed against his chest.

“What can I say? Some moves never go out of style.” His hands found her ass with a startling slap and he squeezed.

Y/N bit her lip and wiggled against him. “Why don’t you show me a few more?”

His fingers curled into the fleshly globes of her backside and Y/N moaned into his mouth at the sting of his blunt nails.

“My pleasure…”

His heavy touch slid up her spine as their tongues clashed and Ben ripped the shirt from her body with a growl. He snapped at her bra, breaking the clasp with a simple twist of his wrist, and bared his teeth like a wolf as her beautiful tits fell free.

She hovered above him, floating in and out of herself as he explored her flesh with is massive hands and perfect lips. When his hand slid beneath the cotton of her blue panties, Y/N jerked upwards and sat back, cradled by his firm thighs. The tip of his middle finger slipped through the slick line of her pussy and Y/N chewed her lip, her head falling back on her shoulders.

“Please…”

“Begging already?” he teased, pushing his finger in a little deeper. “This is gonna be fun.”

Her eyes snapped open and she glared down at him. “God, I wish I had a gag…”

He clicked his tongue and shoved his finger all the way in. “Kinky. I like it.”

Y/N huffed. “The gag’s for you, asshole.”

Ben smirked and tapped her clit with his thumb, making her shoulders quake.

“Not my thing, sweetheart,” he confessed, carefully watching the arousal flood her brain as he rubbed at her cunt. “But you know what I’d love to do?”

Breathless and vibrating with desire, Y/N struggled to answer. “What’s that?”

Ben bucked his hips and drove another thick finger into her. “I’d love to fill up this sweet little cunt and watch my cum drip down your thighs.”

Her eyes rolled back and her body fluttered around his fingers. “Fuck… please.”

He took in a deep breath. “You want that?”

She moaned, “yeah.”

“To drown in my cum-”

“Yes…”

He curled his fingers inside and sparks erupted behind her eyes. Y/N bore down on his hand and shook as the orgasm ripped through her.

“Gonna stuff a baby in you,” he grit.

Out of breath, she fell down onto his chest, palms slapping his skin. “Yes!”

He growled and she slapped him again, tiny hands no match for his superior flesh. Sitting back up, Y/N rolled her hips down onto his cock and hissed, feeling the hardness through the layers of clothing between them. She panted, jaw dropped and eyes hazy, rocking on her knees, rubbing herself over him.

“Do it,” she begged, nails dragging down the deep ridges of his torso.

He licked his lips and hooked his hands around her hip bones.

She grit her teeth and reached down, striking the side of his face. “Do it!”

Shocked, Ben sucked in a quick breath, eyes wild and impressed.

Again, she moved to slap him, gathering up every ounce of strength to try and make an impact. “I said, do it!” Her arm swung through the air, but Ben caught her wrist at the last second, roughly jerking her to the side and flinging her onto the bed.

He was on her in a flash, rudely yanking at the delicate fabric covering her soaked cunt. She gasped at the sting as the pull of the elastic dug into her skin, and reached up, locking a tight hand at the nape of his neck. She pulled herself up and licked into his mouth, desperate to have every bit of him inside of her.

He kicked legs, tugging down the ruined gray sweats and swiftly fit himself between her thighs. The tip of his cock grazed over her swollen slit and Y/N tossed her head back, eyes mere slits as they stared upwards.

Ben’s upper lip twitched as her heat enveloped him. He went slowly, savoring the first thrust, inching his way into her tight hole.

“Fuck…” Her muscles contracted; entire body pulling in on itself as he invaded. “Do it… show me what being the best feels like.”

The color rose in his face and a slick smirk splayed across his lips. He jerked his hips and slammed all the way in, rocking the metal bedframe into the wall.

Y/N groaned at the feeling, packed full with his incredible cock. “Fuck!”

“That what you wanted?” he asked, face hovering over hers, hair falling down into his glowing eyes. “To be fucked like the little whore you are?”

He pulled out and slammed back in, making her eyes bulge and her breath stop. She clawed at his shoulders, holding on as the pleasure ran through her.

“Yes!” she screamed. “Like the whore I am… fuck!”

The louder she screamed, the harder he thrust. Y/N struggled to hold on, but the force of his movements, the rough piston of his hips knocked her out of her head and she lay limb beneath him, wrecked with pleasure as he tore another orgasm out of her.

She clenched down on him and Ben roared. He pushed up on his massive arms and quickened his pace, fucking her through the spasm as it tugged him to the edge.

“Do it,” she moaned, “fill me up… fucking do it!”

The moment snapped inside of him and Y/N felt him shudder. His body stiffened, his hips locked.

“That’s it,” she whispered, wrapping her legs around him, keeping him in place. “Give it.”

She felt the heat flow into her, heard the sharp, stunted grunt as he came. He pulled out and she shivered feeling a stream of fluid leaking from her aching cunt.

“You’re like a fucking animal,” she gasped, finally able to breathe as he rolled over onto his back.

He tossed an arm behind his head and rubbed the other down his chest, grinning proudly. “Just like riding a bike,” he laughed.

Stunned and a little dizzy, Y/N turned onto her side and stared at him. He had barely broken a sweat, but was still glowing, sated and momentarily amused.

“Was that really your first time in forty years?” she asked, amazed at the pleasure he’d wrung from her body.

Ben looked over and shrugged. “First- yes,” he grinned and reached for her, his giant hand eclipsing the side of her face as he closed in for a kiss. “Last? Not by a long shot…”

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[808airsoftbros]

My Girlfriend is a Mafia Boss Pt.III (Shen Xiaoting)

Author: To check out more of my stories you can take a look at my Masterlist

Xiaoting’s POV

Once I’ve gathered all of my best guys into my office, I briefed them all of their mission, and their objectives. At first, they were surprised to find out that I’m hiring them to kidnap a simple boy for the sake of his safety.

“Are you sure this is necessary, madam? He’s just a boy,” One of my men questioned.

“I’m paying you all to do a job, not ask questions. Is that understood?” I sternly asked and he nodded.

“Welp, as long we’re getting paid, who cares?” One of the men mentioned and I grinned.

“Good, that’s what I like to hear from you, but remember I want him alive, and if I find a single scratch on him, I’ll deduct half of your shares,” I warned and they nodded.

Leaving my office, I looked at the photo that I took of Y/N while we were eating at the restaurant yesterday.

I don’t know what came over me when I first saw him at the grocery store, something about him drew my attention, and I felt the need to protect him from all dangers of society.

Please forgive me, Y/N, but this is for your own good...

Y/N’s POV

Yet another boring shift at the store as it was very slow because it wasn’t a busy hour as mostly everyone was working.

Taking this free time to work on the back stock, there was little to do there as the shelves were full and I didn’t want to cram them or else I’ll look ugly.

Anyway, I sat in the back out of camera range going through Instagram on my phone to pass the time.

That was until I heard multiple footsteps walking inside the back but I paid no mind as it was probably my co-workers... Or so I thought.

Glancing up, I got a glimpse of a group of men wearing trenchcoats and sunglasses and they were walking around like they were searching for something or someone.

“Fan out! Once you’ve got visual confirmation of the package, call us, and will converge to your position!” One of them ordered and they split up.

Shit looks like they’re seeking something and they do not look friendly at all. Hiding behind one of the shelves in the warehouse and I see a man examining the area.

“Hmm... No sign of the target here, moving on,” The man confirmed and left me alone making me sigh in relief.

Peeping out of the shelve to make sure the coast was clear, I quietly get out of the shelve and head to the nearest fire exit.

Unfortunately, the fire exit was closed to two of the thugs keeping a sharp eye out, so I needed to create a distraction or find some sort of weapon.

Looking around the warehouse for any objects I could improvise as a weapon, I examine the tool drawer and grabbed the hammer.

“Yes, now I might stand a chance,” I said to myself.

“Hey, stop right there!” I heard a man bark and I turned around to face the man.

“You’re coming with me!” He said and I swung the hammer at his head.

The impact of the hammer made him crash into one of the shelves making all the can goods collapse onto his body.

Making a run for it, I was stopped by two more thugs this time armed with brace knuckles.

“Hold on, we cannot hurt him, not even a scratch, you heard what the boss said, right?” He asked and he sighed.

“Fine, but this better be worth all of the trouble!” He replied.

The boss? Who the hell are they talking about? I didn’t do anything to anyone so why are they sending thugs to kidnap me?

Anyway, I swing the hammer all over the place and they backed away at a safe distance and I continued to run.

“Stop him!” One of the men yelled.

Bursting through the fire exit, the fire alarm automatically went off grabbing the attention of everyone including the thugs pursuing me.

Fucking hell, I gotta lose them or else God knows what’s going to happen to me if they catch me.

Taking the car keys out of my pocket, I unlock the car, got inside the driver's seat insert the key into the ignition switch but the damn rust bucket wasn’t starting.

“Start you pile of shite!” I yelled as I kept turning the key.

However, it was no use as the windows busted open as the thugs swung a baseball bat at the window and dragged me out of the car.

“Enough games, kid... Tie him up,” He ordered and the men tied my arms and legs.

They carried me to their van, opened the back doors, and threw me in the back. I started to fear for my life as it was over and I wondered what I did to deserve this.

Hearing the engine turn on, we were on our way to who knows where, probably someplace that is far from civilization.

“Good call sabotaging the engine. Otherwise, we would have to charge the boss more,” I heard them.

“Haha! Piece of cake and easy money grab,” He replied.

Damn, so that’s why my car wouldn’t start in the first place because one of them must’ve done something to the engine.

About twenty minutes later, the van stops, I heard the men step out of the vehicle and open the doors.

One of them dragged me out of the back, untied my ankles allowing me to walk, and they harshly pushed me signaling me to get moving.

Following the group of thugs to what appears to be a luxury mansion surrounded by a garden and a security gate.

The leader goes up to the gate and hits the doorbell, the security camera focuses on him and the gates open.

Greeting us, was another group of men dressed in all black, wearing security earpieces, and sunglasses as one of them held a briefcase.

“Hand over the package,” The guard ordered.

“Nu-uh, money first,” The thug replied.

The guard holding the briefcase comes forward, unlocks the hatches revealing millions of won to verify it was all legit, and closes it.

“If that’s enough assurance, hand him over, and will take it from here,” The guard ordered and the thug pushed me towards them.

The guard hands over the briefcase full of money to them and shuts the gate in front of them.

“This way, Mister Kim,” The guard directed and I followed him.

Walking through the garden, it was well kept, and surely whoever the owner is, must be hella rich.

Once we reached the entrance, the standing guards opens the door for us, and we walk through.

I was mesmerized by how fancy this place looked, chandeliers, maids working in the mansion, and of course a staircase.

We walked up the stairs, passed by many doors that lead to all sorts of rooms I assume, until we reached a double door.

The guards opened the door, gestured for me to go inside, and I did what they say as there were no escape routes.

At first glance, it was a huge office, there was a fireplace, bookshelves, and even a large window giving a view of the garden outside.

“Please have a seat,” A feminine voice said.

Taking a seat in front of the strange dark figure sitting in the shadows, I was deeply unsettled as to what this woman has planned for me.

“I hoped my hired bodies didn’t leave a mark on you bringing you here... Did they?” She creepily asked and I gulped.

“N-No, I’m perfectly fine,” I answered.

“Great, now that’s out of the way, next would introducing ourselves, but won’t be necessary in this case... Right, Y/N?” She asked as she came into the sunlight revealing her figure.

“N-Noona?! Y-You did this?!” I exclaimed and she giggled.

“Yes, I did, but it was the only way to keep you from harm's way of my rivals, it was my fault to drag you into this situation, I should’ve known that those scumbags are always watching me and I was certain that they about you so I’m taking responsibility for my mistakes by bringing you here for protection.” She explained.

“W-Why from them? What are you?” I frantically asked.

“Because... I’m the boss of the biggest mafia clan in the entire country! Many want me dead so they can take my place and have all of the power to themselves. I have enough manpower to start my criminal empire and not even the government can’t stop me since they’re so easy to bribe.” She answered and my eye widened.

“N-No way! You’re lying!” I accused and she scoffed.

“Ever heard of the notorious criminal, the Death Angel?” She asked and I nodded.

“Y-Yeah, it’s all over the news,” I answered.

“Well, you just so happened to be talking to her~,” She replied as she reveals the tattoo on her chest and it’s the same one that I saw on the news.

“I-Impossible...” I softly said and she sighed.

“Right, I’m sure this is a lot to take in so will things slowly but for now, I promise you will be safe here as long as you do exactly as I said, understand, darling~?” She asked and I gulped.

[asirensrage]

A Bet's a Bet - Kyojuro x Reader x Tengen oneshot

Title: A Bet's a Bet Rating: Explicit Fandom: Demon Slayer Pairing: Uzui Tengen x Female!Reader x Rengoku Kyojuro (side Kyojuro x Tengen) Warnings: Smut. Threesome. A bit ooc. Oral. Swearing. Sex. (Seriously. Heed the rating.) Unbeta’d.

Summary: Modern!AU. A night at Laser Tag goes from potential disaster to something incredible.

Notes: This is based on this post with @comatosebunny09. This turned out longer than I planned because the characters kept running away from me and doing their own thing. I was just along for the ride. This is also a little more detailed than usual (but it had to be because of the logistics of this). These men will be the death of me lol. Unbeta'd so please forgive any errors. As usual, undescribed/unnamed female reader. Enjoy and please lmk what you think!

Laser tag. Fucking laser tag. 

“Come on! It’ll be fun!” Your friend pleads with you. 

“I don’t want to go play against a bunch of kids,” you say. It’s a lie. The truth is you have no desire to go on what you know is a set-up double date with her boyfriend and one of his friends. The same one you’ve already told her you’re not interested in. 

“Please! I promise I’ll never ask for anything ever again. Just come! Have some fun! I promise that there’s not even any kids there, it’s just adults. They’re running longer games now.” 

You stare at her dubiously but then she uses that same pleading look that you know has gotten her out of multiple speeding tickets. “Fine. This is the last time, got it?”

“I promise!” 

Somehow, you doubt that. 

You were right in the fact that it ended up being some fake double date that you didn’t agree to. Her boyfriend brought a friend, the same one you knew he would, and they gave you both some space to talk. Even when you didn’t want to. Thankfully, she was alright right in the fact that you weren’t surrounded by some kids. There were other adults playing. You caught a glimpse of the group that went in ahead of yours, catching sight of broad shoulders and bright hair.

Thankfully the place seems huge and it’s dark. As soon as you get in, you ditch your group. You’re not about to spend the next twenty minutes having the guy trail you while trying to convince you he’s good at this. 

You forgot how much fun laser tag is. You spend some time running and ducking for cover. You haven’t seen your friend but it’s only a matter of time. As soon as you find her, you’re taking them all out. As much as you can, at least. 

You step backwards as someone comes running and jump as you bump into someone. 

“Sorry about that!” they say. You turn and aim. 

You can barely make out his blond hair under the dark lights but he has an easy smile and isn’t aiming his gun at you. “No problem,” you say. 

“Might be fortunate,” he grins. His eyes glance down at the blue light that marks your vest. His was marked with red. “We’re unfortunately not on the same team but I won’t shoot.”

You frown slightly, confused. “Why not?” 

“Maybe I want to stay on your good side.”

You smile slightly at the flirtation. It wasn’t completely easy to tell with the way the lights changed and the noise of people yelling at each other. 

“I caught some of your movements. Are you looking for someone in particular?”

“Yeah, my friend.” You describe her quickly. “I’m going to make sure she loses. Badly.” His eyebrows raise at your tone and both of you duck as soon as you hear someone come close. “She roped me into coming and surprised me with a double date, with someone I already told her I wasn’t interested in.” 

“That’s not kind of her,” he says. 

“Nope. So she’s going down.” 

“Would you like help?” 

“You any good?”

“Allow me to show you.” 

Kyojuro, as he introduces himself, is fantastic. He moves with apparent ease through the arena, yanking you out of the way a couple of times and pulling you tight against his chest. He apologizes the first time but when you tell him it’s fine, he does not stop. The strength in the movements has you more flustered than you expected.  

You find the friend of the boyfriend and both of you shoot him before running for it. You’re still searching for your friend when someone suddenly appears before you. You shoot instantly.

“Good shot!”  

Kyojuro steps in front of you and you glance back to make sure you’re not being cornered. 

“Kyo!” The man in front of him says. “Found something interesting, have you?”

 “I might have!” Kyojuro steps to the side. “Allow me to introduce you,” he says, motioning towards you. “This is one of my friends, Tengen.” Tengen is huge. You can make out enough to tell that he’s tall and extremely built, but he doesn’t set off your instincts telling you you’re in danger. He grins at you, seemingly not upset at the fact that you shot him. 

“Think you can do it again?” 

“Maybe,” you say not giving any promises because he's not your main target but you couldn't resist.

“Of course, she can!” Kyojuro says. You smile at the confidence he has in you. 

“Then why don't we make a bet?” Tengen leans closer. “Winner take all. If I win with the top ranking, you come out for dinner with us.” He motions towards Kyojuro and himself. That would at least get you out of going to dinner with your friend. 

“And if I win?" you ask.

“You shoot me again, you can have anything you want.” 

“Alright,” you agree. You don’t know what you’d ask for but you could decide later. 

Tengen winks at both of you before he somehow disappears back into the shadows. You look around quickly, but you can’t see him anywhere. 

“How the hell did he do that?” 

“Don’t ask,” Kyojuro says. “Better not to know. Come on, let’s find your friend.” 

You both manage to find your friend and her boyfriend and stalk them, shooting them repeatedly and laughing when they’re unable to catch you. That’s thanks due to Kyojuro, but you have the feeling that Tengen is somehow helping you both. You never see him though and when the lights finally turn on, all of you are ushered out to the leaderboard. Standing at rank 1 with a new high score is Tengen. Of course, it is. 

You finally get a good look at Kyojuro. He’s tall and well-built, getting out of his vest with the ease of having done this before. He turns to help you. You try not to stare but his eyes are as vibrant as his hair and when he grins at you knowingly, your stomach flutters. You glance around to figure out which one Tengen is when you’re distracted as someone calls your name.

“There you are!” 

You turn to see your friend coming up to you, her boyfriend and your unwanted date following. 

“I thought we were supposed to do this together, but you ran off.” Your friend says, her gaze flickering to the man beside you. Kyojuro turned with you to face them but he’s quiet now, letting you choose how to respond. 

“Is the whole point of laser tag to not be seen?” You ask. “Besides, I made allies.”

“I can see that,” she says. “Are you ready to go?”

An arm settles itself over your shoulders before you can answer and you find yourself pulled slightly into a large body. You glance up, catching sight of white hair and ruby-coloured eyes that wink down at you. 

“I’m afraid we’re going to be stealing her,” the man holding you says. Tengen, you realize as you recognize the voice. 

“What?” Your friend looks alarmed, gaze going between the three of you as Kyojuro moves slightly closer. 

“My friend and yours made a bet,” Kyojuro says. “If Tengen made top rank, she would join us for dinner tonight.”

“Not only did I rank number one, but I broke a new record. Quite flashy, don’t you agree?” 

It takes a second for you to realize he’s talking to you. “Oh yeah, absolutely.” 

Your friend looks unimpressed at you but considering you didn’t want to be here in the first place and she surprised you into this faux double date, you’re not that bothered by it. 

“Sorry,” you say. “A bet’s a bet, right? Besides, we can have dinner another time.” You raise your eyebrows at her, daring her to protest. 

“We came here together,” she says slowly. “How will you get home?”

“We’ll drive her,” Tengen says. 

“We’ll make sure she gets home safely.” It sounds like a promise coming from Kyojuro. 

“I’ll be fine,” you tell her. “Don’t worry. I’ll text you, okay?”

She looks at you warily but nods. “Okay. Make sure you do.” She looks at the men on either side of you. “You better not hurt her or I swear to God…” 

“We won’t,” Kyojuro says. “Would you like to take a picture of us? Just in case.”

She looks as surprised at the offer as you are but she agrees. Kyojuro wraps an arm around your waist and smiles. You feel Tengen pose next to you but she takes what’s likely more than one picture. “Okay. If you murder her, I’ll find you.”

Tengen laughs. “Don’t worry, if she screams, it won’t be from murder.” 

You can see your friend’s boyfriend’s jaw drop at the blatant insinuation and your friend’s eyes widen before she grins at you. She moves forward and hugs you tightly before whispering, “Tell me everything tomorrow, okay?”

You laugh and wave her off, promising to contact her. You watch as they leave and Kyojuro slips away to say goodbye to their friends. Tengen doesn’t drop his arm since you haven’t shaken him off. Its weight is oddly comforting.

“You really didn’t want to go with them, did you?” Tengen asks. 

You look up at him. “No. I basically got tricked into a double date with her boyfriend's friend. It’s not the first time either and I already told her I wasn’t interested. Spending dinner with you two is a much more preferable choice, even if we did just meet.” 

He bends down slightly to get closer to you. “Well then, we’ll just have to make it worth your while, won’t we?” 

They take you to a restaurant that is within walking distance. The men walk on either side of you, drawing you into conversation and telling you about how they became friends. You can’t help but laugh as Tengen expresses the admiration he felt when he met Kyojuro, simply for how the man dealt with one of their abrasive friends Sanemi. You think you can see Kyojuro redden as Tengen teases but the conversation pauses as you reach the restaurant. It’s cute and busy. You don’t know how they manage it, but the men get you a booth. Once you agree, you find yourself encased between them again when you sit down. 

Despite the size of them and the way they seem to tower over you even sitting, you don’t feel diminished between them. They keep you engaged in conversation, asking questions about your life while sharing more about theirs. Kyojuro promises that his hair is completely natural and tells you it’s because his ancestors loved tempura. It makes you laugh. 

“You have a gorgeous laugh, angel,” Tengen says, leaning slightly so his lips are closer to your ear. 

“You think so?” You ask, turning slightly to grin at him. You’re still not entirely sure where their attraction was coming from, but you weren’t opposed to it. Especially since neither of them seemed bothered by the other. You wonder to yourself if they’ve done this before. 

“Definitely.” You see his eye glance down at your lips but before either of you can do more than look, the waitress comes back with your orders. 

“Here, try this.” 

You turn to Kyojuro who’s holding up a bite of his meal. He nods, moving it slightly closer but ultimately waiting for your response. You lean forward, meeting his eyes as you take a bite. He watches you carefully and you’re distracted from the weight of his stare by the taste of his meal. “Wow.”

“It’s delicious, right?” 

“It is!” You grin at him, gaze flicking down to his mouth before you meet his eyes again. Your breath hitches in your throat. He leans forward slowly, putting the utensil down. 

“May I kiss you?” he asks softly. 

You feel Tengen shift behind you. His chin rests slightly on your shoulder. “You should, angel,” Tengen says. “He’s a fantastic kisser.” Your mind goes blank slightly at the thought of how Tengen knows that but you nod. 

Kyojuro reaches over and touches your jaw slightly. Your eyes close as he gets close and his lips brush against yours gently. His kiss is soft at first, just testing the waters. Tengen pushes you slightly, pressing you closer to Kyojuro who opens his mouth and deepens the kiss. It’s easy to lose yourself in it, especially with the heat of Tengen at your back whose hand slides up your arm. 

When you break the kiss, you meet Kyojuro’s eyes. His pupils are blown wide and he grins at you. He darts forward, kissing you quickly again before he pulls back. “Like I said, delicious.” 

Tengen laughs behind you and you turn to face him better, wanting to make sure he wasn’t feeling left out. 

“Was I right?” he asks, nudging you slightly. 

“I might need some more convincing,” you tease, unwilling to give in that easily. 

Tengen just grins. “How about a comparison?” He bends down, capturing your lips with his. His palm is warm against the small of your back and you can feel Kyojuro’s thigh pressing against yours as Tengen takes control of the kiss. He kisses like he’s trying to get a rise out of you, as though he’s attempting to find out the exact way to make you moan against him. You break the kiss first, unwilling to forget where you are and end up embarrassing yourself. He looks at you like he knows. Tengen looks over your head at Kyojuro. “You were right, it’s delicious.”

Kyojuro laughs. 

Dinner ends with Tengen’s hand on your thigh, fingers curling on the inside, tapping out a beat in his mind that leaves you squirming slightly, wishing he went higher. You suspect that if you were in a skirt or dress, his hands would tease higher against your skin. Kyojuro keeps taking the chance to kiss you and winds his fingers between yours, holding your hand. They continue to check in, making sure that you’re comfortable with every action they take. You’re aware of some of the looks the three of you are getting, but both Tengen and Kyojuro don’t seem bothered by them and continue to distract you by asking questions and telling stories. 

“Come home with us?” Tengen asks after their refusal to let you chip in for dinner. The three of you are standing outside the restaurant. 

“You don’t have to,” Kyojuro says. “We can simply take you home, but we’ve enjoyed this and would like to continue. Only if you’re interested.” 

Tengen throws an arm over Kyojuro’s shoulders. “What do you say? Want to continue? See how flashy the night can get?” 

You look at the way they are completely at ease with each other, how there’s absolutely no pressure to say yes. Every single moment since you’ve met them, they’ve been careful to be mindful of what you want and ask if it was okay. You get the sense that if you said no, they’d stay true to their word and take you home with no hard feelings, numbers still exchanged. These men had made a shit situation a hell of a lot better and now were promising to make your night something to remember. 

You smile at them both. “Absolutely.” 

Kyojuro’s apartment is closest. 

You take Tengen’s car and Kyojuro sits in the back. Another step to make sure you feel comfortable, that you’re not just being carted off to one of their places. You text your friend on the way, telling her you’re going home with them. The encouragement your friend sends back makes you grin. You promise to check in with her later before locking your phone. 

“Everything alright?” Kyojuro asks, leaning forward between the seats. 

“Yeah,” you say, glancing between them both. “Have you two done this a lot?” You can’t help but ask. Especially with how comfortable they are with each other, with you kissing both of them. 

Tengen shrugs. “Kyo and I aren’t necessarily exclusive,” he says. “We both want more. There’s no shame in having more love to offer as long as everyone’s okay with it.”

“You are okay with it, aren’t you?” Kyojuro asks, sounding slightly hesitant. 

“I am,” you assure. “I just…I’ve never slept with two people at once. You might have to show me the ropes.”

“And here I thought we’d save the ropes for the next date,” Tengen says dryly.

You laugh. “The next date?”

“Sure,” he says. “We’ll just have to show you we’re worth it.”

“We like you,” Kyojuro grins at you. “Why wouldn’t we want to continue?”

“Maybe I’m terrible in bed?” you offer teasingly. 

Tengen glances at you. “We’re not.” 

They prove it too. 

Kyojuro’s apartment isn’t too large but it is instantly comforting with warm colours and tasteful decoration, even if it is a little sparse. Both men move through it with ease and Kyojuro offers you both a drink to help you get settled. The drink he hands you is unopened, and you sip at it before settling on the couch next to Tengen. 

Kyojuro settles in next to you and for a moment you bask in this strange sense of comfort and warmth between these two men. The two of them are talking, letting you take your time. You get the feeling that they’re just waiting until you let them know you’re ready for more. It’s so wholesome, especially considering they basically promised to fuck you senseless. You want to see if they live up to it. 

You lean forward, setting your drink down before you glance between them. Considering you’ve kissed Kyojuro the most so far, you turn towards Tengen.

He raises his eyebrows at you, smirking slightly as he waits. 

“Can I sit on you?” you ask, offering the same politeness that they’ve given you. Consent needs to be verbally enthusiastic after all. 

Tengen grins and nods, putting his drink down before he beckons you closer. His hands grip at your waist, helping lift you with ease. Your legs go to either side of his, allowing you to straddle him. You glance at Kyojuro who simply moves closer and watches. Tengen’s hand slips under your shirt, thumb stroking soft circles on the skin of the small of your back. “We’re not going to push you into anything, angel,” he says softly. “At least anything you don’t want.” 

“And if I want everything?” you ask, fiddling gently with his shirt. 

The hand not on your back tilts your face to look up at him. “Then ask.”

“I want you both,” you breathe, meeting his dark red eyes. “If you want me.”

“Of course we do,” Kyojuro says. “Since you bumped into me.”

“Since you shot me,” Tengen agrees. His hand slides to the back of your neck and he leans down to kiss you. If he kissed you with careful control in the restaurant, this was something else. It’s harder, more demanding and yet he seems to remember everything that made you hum against his lips. “Don’t hold back,” he whispers when he finally breaks the kiss, letting you breathe. 

“If it’s too much, let us know,” Kyojuro says before he leans forward and takes Tengen’s place. Kyojuro kisses hard, full of passion and desperation. He kisses you like he never wants to stop. You can’t help but whine when he pulls back. You rock forwards, feeling Tengen growing harder under you. 

“Now that’s a sight,” he says, eyes flickering between you two. “Beautiful.” 

Your breath hitches as he turns to Kyojuro and you suddenly witness them kiss. Whatever sight Tengen thought he saw with you and Kyojuro, it couldn’t come close to the sight of them. They kissed like they’ve done it a hundred times before and still couldn’t get enough of each other. You grind your hips lightly, searching for more friction and reach for Kyojuro’s hand. He grips your hand back, just as tight. 

Tengen’s hand presses harder against your back, helping to guide you in increasing your motions and he groans against Kyojuro’s mouth. 

“Fuck,” you mutter. 

Kyojuro laughs, pulling away to look at you. “Enjoying it?”

“You’re both just so pretty,” you admit. 

Tengen laughs. “Come now, you’re wearing too much.” His gaze darts to Kyojuro. “Both of you are.” 

It’s easy to give in. You grab the end of your shirt and drag it up over your head. You throw it to the side, completely unaware as both the men look at you. Their gazes are heated, Kyojuro’s tongue darting out to lick his lips. You think he does it unconsciously but your stomach flutters with pride and confidence at their expressions and you quickly take off your bra too. 

Tengen’s hand is large and warm, the calluses on his fingers and palm scrape against your skin as he drags his hand up your side. You shiver at the feeling, only to be distracted as Kyojuro kisses you again. 

It’s almost overwhelming. The strength of Tengen’s thighs under you, the feeling of his hands dancing a pattern you can’t focus on over your skin while Kyojuro sucks marks on your shoulder. Tengen kisses you again and you feel Kyojuro’s hand go from your thigh to his. 

“We need more space,” Tengen mutters. “Hold on, princess.” He lifts you, ignoring the sound you make at the loss of him until he places you in Kyojuro’s lap. Kyojuro, for his part, grins widely at you, pulling you closer before kissing you again. You dig your hands into his hair, kissing him back just as hard. 

“Bedroom,” Tengen says, offering a hand. Kyojuro hikes you closer before he stands, one arm under your ass. You wrap your legs around him but he doesn’t seem to struggle in the slightest in carrying you. Tengen leads you both down a hall. Or somewhere. You’re not entirely paying attention, too busy sucking your own mark into Kyojuro’s neck. His grip tightens against you. 

Kyojuro releases you, letting you gently fall against the bed. Tengen moves in, drawing you towards him as he kneels on the bed. You move to follow, pausing only to undo your pants once you notice he’s naked. You motion for him to wait as you lie back to shimmy out of them. He hooks a finger on the edge, helping you. Kyojuro grabs the ends, pulling them towards him. He’s already naked as well, taking the chance when you were distracted by Tengen. 

Your mouth goes dry as you take in their muscles. You knew they were strong but it’s different seeing them like this. “Wow.”

“I think we’re the ones who should be saying that,” Kyojuro says. “Don’t you agree, Tengen?”

“I’m lucky either way,” the other man admits. You turn back to him. He’s sitting back on his heels, watching you both. “Come here,” he beckons you closer like he did before. You move towards him, aware of the bed dipping behind you. Tengen pulls you into him, kissing you softly as his hands slide across your skin. They go up your thighs, following the dip of your hips and waist before cupping your breasts gently. “So pretty,” he murmurs. 

Kyojuro moves behind you, kissing the spot where your neck meets your shoulder. You lean back against him, smiling at the warmth of the men that seeps into you. You move one of your hands over your shoulder, digging back into Kyojuro’s hair. He groans as you grip it, hands tightening at your waist. You drape your other one over Tengen’s shoulder, stroking the skin softly as his mouth lowers to encase one of your nipples. 

You lose yourself in the sensations the men cause. One of Kyojuro’s hands slips between your legs, pressing in and stroking gently. 

“So wet already,” he tells Tengen. He presses in further and you shift to give him more room. He finds your clit with surprising ease and you feel yourself arch into it. It helps push you closer to Tengen who is lavishing your chest with attention, gently biting and sucking hard to leave his mark. 

You groan when Kyojuro removes his fingers, sucking them into his mouth. How are you supposed to survive this? Especially when he swipes them back between your legs before offering them to Tengen who takes them without hesitation. Kyojuro leans forward over you, kissing Tengen. The thought that they can both taste you on their lips is hotter than you ever realized it would be. Your hands move, mapping out the crevices and dips of their muscles, absent-mindedly wondering how you got this lucky. You don’t question it though, instead, once they stop kissing, you motion for them to give you some space. 

They both instantly apologize if they squished you.

“What a way to go,” you muse, smiling as they laugh. Tengen reaches over to pinch you and you jolt back, sticking out your tongue. 

“I want to taste you,” you say. You move closer, bending down slightly. You reach for Kyojuro, fingers wrapping around his cock and watching as his eyes flutter closed at the feeling. You lick at Tengen’s, using your other hand to hold him. It takes a bit to find a rhythm and neither man seems to mind as you go back and forth, taking your time to try to take in as much of each of them as you can. 

Tengen’s hand rests on the back of your neck, oddly comforting as you suck him. Kyojuro’s hand joins yours, stroking what bits you can’t reach. Tengen groans, praising you both for making him feel so good. “You take us so well, angel,” he tells you. 

Kyojuro is louder in his moans when you use your mouth, holding himself steady on Tengen as you lick and suck. These two powerful men crumble under your mouth. You’ve never felt so powerful, or so desirable with the way they look at you. 

“Please, sweet thing,” Kyojuro begs, “let me take care of you too.” 

He begs so prettily, and you think Tengen agrees with how he watches you both. You nod and Kyojuro motions for you to turn your attention back to the other man. You feel him move behind you as you go back to trying to take as much of Tengen’s cock in your mouth as you can. Kyojuro’s hands settle on your hips before he presses a warm palm to the small of your back, guiding you to rest on your hands as well as your knees. You lean back towards him automatically. 

You hum against Tengen as you feel Kyojuro’s fingers first. They press in, slowly stretching you as he adds one then two. 

“Fuck,” you hear Tengen. 

“She’s so tight,” Kyojuro says. “I don’t want to hurt her.” 

“You won’t,” Tengen replies. 

Kyojuro presses another finger in and you falter in your efforts, mouth releasing Tengen so you can gasp at the intrusion. It feels so good and yet not enough. 

“Please, please, please,” you beg. “More.”

“Well,” Tengen says. “You heard her.” 

You don’t look up at the sounds of someone’s fingers being sucked clean, already knowing what you’d find and take the chance to catch your breath. It doesn’t last long, not when you can feel Kyojuro finally press against you. It takes a second for him to angle himself properly before he’s pushing in and all you can do is moan at the feeling. 

Fingers tilt your head up and you look to see Tengen smiling down at you. “Alright?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” you agree. 

He bends down to kiss you and you can taste yourself on his lips. Kyojuro takes the chance to withdraw just enough before thrusting back. 

“Come on, princess,” Tengen says softly. “Think you can finish me off?” 

You don’t bother replying, instead taking his cock back in your mouth. You’ve never been this full. Not like this. The men easily find a rhythm, and you let yourself move with it. The room fills with the sounds and smells of sex, soft moans and groans as you all get closer. Tengen hits his release first, withdrawing and cumming across your back. That’s going to be hell to clean but the thought is lost when you feel Kyojuro’s pace quicken. Your arms collapse under you and you try to hold yourself up on your elbows. You think someone swipes at the display he left, someone else moaning with their mouth full. Then Tengen shifts, lying next to you and propping himself up on an elbow. He seems enraptured by the sight of you and Kyojuro. 

You are so close to the edge, to your release when Kyojuro stops. You nearly whine in frustration but it doesn’t last long. You’re flipped onto your back, resting next to Tengen still while Kyojuro slips back between your legs. 

Tengen kisses you as Kyojuro lifts your legs, resting them on his forearms before he thrusts forward again. Tengen’s hand slides down your chest, pausing to squeeze one of your breasts again before his fingers find their way between you and Kyojuro. He presses against your clit, moving in tandem with the man fucking you and you break. 

Tengen breaks the kiss, letting you cry out with your release as his mouth moves lower, They don’t stop though. Your orgasm extends with their movements and before you can even fully catch your breath, you tumble head-first into another. 

Someone swears. 

Kyojuro pulls out just in time to cum across your stomach and all three of you seem to pause, regaining your senses. Kyojuro collapses on the best next to you and for a moment, all you can do is laugh. 

Both men have enough energy to look at each other over you and you wave them off before they can question it.

“Sorry,” you say. “That was just…the most intense thing I’ve ever experienced.” 

“Told you it’d be flashy,” Tengen says, sounding as confident as ever. Not that it was a surprise. The man deserved it and could clearly back it up. You were going to be sore tomorrow. 

“You were right,” you agree. 

“Let’s clean you up,” he says. “I’ll run a bath.” 

“A bath?” All you wanted to do was clean up and sleep. 

“It’s big enough,” Kyojuro says. He sounds about as awake as you feel. “It’ll help so you won’t be sore later when we go again.”

“Again?” You glance between these men, wondering where they get the stamina. Tengen just laughs. 

“Of course. You didn’t think we were done, did you?”

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