︵ ೀ mdni. satoru is undoubtedly attractive but you still see him as the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to earn some extra money during high school. little do you know that he wants to rail you bad ( pervert!satoru / reverse age-gap )
satoru gojo used to be the annoying little kid you babysat every weekend to make extra money during high school.
he was your neighbor’s son—loud, spoiled, with those striking blue eyes that always followed you around the house like you hung the stars. you’d tuck him in, read him stories, and laugh when he threw tantrums about bedtime. “you’re like my big sister,” he used to say, clinging to your leg. you found it cute back then.
now he’s nineteen, tall, ridiculously handsome, and somehow even more trouble.
you still live next door, working part-time while finishing your degree. satoru has grown into something dangerous. six-foot-three of muscle, messy white hair, and that infuriating smirk that makes girls on campus lose their minds. but to you, he’s still little satoru. the kid you used to scold for eating too much sugar.
he wishes you’d stop seeing him that way. because every night when he’s alone in his room, it’s your face he sees. your soft smile, the way your hips sway when you walk, the curve of your breasts under those old t-shirts you wear when you come over to help his mom. he wraps his hand around his cock and strokes himself slow and desperate, imagining bending you over the same couch you used to read him stories on.
he cums hard every time, biting his lip to stay quiet.
seeing you now drives him insane.
you’re in his kitchen again, helping his mom with groceries like you always do. satoru leans against the doorway, arms crossed, watching you laugh at something his mother says. you’re wearing shorts that hug your thighs and a loose top that slips off one shoulder. he wants to rail you so badly it hurts. wants to push you against the counter, shove those shorts down, and fuck you until you finally see him as a man.
“hey,” he says, voice low and smooth as he walks in. he’s learned how to turn on the charm. “you look good today. new shorts?”
you glance down, then smile like he’s still ten years old. “these old things? thanks, satoru. you’re sweet.”
sweet. the word burns.
he steps closer, towering over you now. “i’m not a kid anymore, you know.”
you laugh softly, patting his arm like you used to when he threw tantrums. “of course you’re not. you’re all grown up. my little troublemaker became a heartthrob, huh?”
satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to grab you, pin you to the wall, and show you exactly how grown up he is. instead he flashes that signature gojo grin, leaning in so his breath brushes your ear.
“you should let me take you out sometime. dinner. drinks. whatever you want.”
you blink, tilting your head with that innocent confusion that drives him crazy. “aww, that’s so nice of you! are you practicing your lines for the girls at school? you’re gonna break so many hearts.”
he nearly groans. “i’m not practicing. i mean it. i want to take you out. just us.”
you wave him off with a smile, completely missing the heat in his eyes. “you’re adorable. but i’m way too old for you, satoru. focus on college girls your age.”
adorable.
the word makes something snap inside him. he’s imagined you on your knees, lips wrapped around his cock. imagined folding you in half and pounding you until you scream his name. imagined filling you up while you moan about how big he is.
and you still call him adorable.
he steps even closer, backing you against the counter. his height makes it impossible for you to ignore how much he’s grown. “i’m not a little kid anymore,” he says, voice dropping. “i know what i want. and i want you.”
you laugh again, reaching up to ruffle his hair like you did when he was eight. “you’re so funny. always teasing your old babysitter.”
satoru catches your wrist gently but firmly, holding it against his chest so you can feel how fast his heart is racing. his blue eyes burn into yours.
“i’m not teasing.”
for a second you pause. but then you smile again. “you’ll find a nice girl soon. i promise.”
he lets you go, watching you walk away to help his mom again. his cock is half-hard in his pants just from being close to you. the frustration is driving him insane.
every time you treat him like the child he used to be, it only makes him want to ruin you more. to prove how much of a man he is by fucking you so deep you forget you ever saw him as anything but yours.
satoru leans against the counter, eyes dark and hungry as he watches you move around the kitchen. he stays there until he can’t take it anymore, then pushes off the counter and heads upstairs to his room without a word.
the second his door clicks shut, he’s already palming himself through his pants. he frees his aching cock and starts stroking, hoping that you’ll take the garden path home like you usually do so you’ll walk right past his window and hear the wet sound of his hand pumping his cock and the moans he doesn’t even try to hide because he wants you to know. he wants you to hear exactly what you do to him.
a few days later, satoru comes back from a late training session when he cuts through the side yard like he always does. your bedroom curtain is pulled mostly closed, but there’s a gap—just enough, and he stops dead. through the narrow opening he sees you.
you’re on top, completely naked, riding your stupid boyfriend with slow rolls of your hips. your head is tilted back, lips parted, hands braced on his chest. the moonlight catches the curve of your breasts, the way they bounce every time you sink down. your boyfriend’s hands are on your waist, guiding you, but his thrusts look lazy.
satoru’s mouth goes dry.
he should look away. he knows he should. but he can’t. his cock hardens instantly, straining against his pants as he watches you move. you look so pretty like this—flushed, glowing, lost in pleasure. but something ugly twists in his chest because it’s not him underneath you. he wants to be him so fucking bad.
before he can think, satoru slips behind the bushes, hidden in the shadows. his hand shoves into his pants, wrapping around his aching cock. he strokes himself in time with your movements, eyes locked on the way your body rises and falls. every soft moan that drifts through the cracked window makes him leak.
“fuck… you should be riding me,” he whispers. his fist moves faster, thumb swiping over the head as he imagines it’s your tight, wet heat instead. he pictures grabbing your hips, slamming you down on his much bigger cock, making you scream his name instead of whatever soft sounds you’re making now.
he cums hard, biting his lip to stay quiet, painting his hand while watching you chase your own pleasure. the sight of you cumming—back arching, mouth open in a silent cry—pushes him over the edge again. he milks himself through it, thick, messy spurts flooding into his boxers and soaking through his pants. after the orgasm fades and reality came back he stares down at the dark wet patch on the front of his sweatpants.
later that night he lies in bed, staring at the ceiling, still half-hard while his damp pants he cleaned in a hurry so his mom wouldn’t notice, dry on the back of his chair in his room. that loser didn’t even make you cum properly. satoru could tell.
your moans were pretty, but not desperate enough. your body moved like you were doing most of the work. he knows he would be so much better for you. he would flip you over, pin you down, and fuck you so deep and so good you’d forget any other man existed. he’d make you cum until you cried, until your legs shook, until you begged him to fill you up. he’d treat you like the goddess you are instead of some half-assed ride.
the jealousy burns hotter than the lust now. you still see him as the little kid you babysat. you have a boyfriend who can’t even make you cum right, and you smile at satoru like he’s harmless.
it makes him insane.
the next afternoon he sees you working in the garden.
you’re kneeling in the flowerbed next door, wearing those same old shorts that ride up your thighs and a loose tank top, hair tied back messily as you dig around the roses. the sun makes your skin glow. satoru leans against the wooden fence that separates your yards, arms crossed over his chest, watching you in silence for a long moment. his eyes trace the curve of your back, the way your shorts cling when you shift, the soft bounce of your breasts every time you reach forward.
his cock twitches at the memory of last night—you riding that loser, the way your body moved, the sounds you made. he still feels a little ashamed about cumming in his pants like a desperate pervert, but the hunger is stronger.
finally he speaks, voice casual but laced with something darker.
“had a good night?”
you look up, brushing dirt off your hands, and give him that same bright, innocent smile you always do. “oh, hey satoru. yeah, it was alright. why do you ask?”
he shrugs, but his blue eyes are intense behind his sunglasses. “just curious. you seemed… busy.”
you laugh softly, standing up and stretching. the hem of your tank top rides up, showing a sliver of skin, and satoru’s gaze drops there instantly.
“nothing special,” you say. “just hung out with my boyfriend. watched a movie, you know how it is.”
satoru’s jaw tightens. he wants to tell you that “hung out” clearly wasn’t enough if you weren’t even satisfied. instead he flashes his usual grin and leans further over the fence.
“movie, huh? sounds boring. you deserve better than boring.”
you tilt your head, amused. “are you offering to entertain me now, little satoru?”
there it is again. little satoru.
the nickname stings worse than usual after what he saw last night. he wants to vault over the fence, push you down into the dirt, and fuck you right there in the garden until you scream his name instead of calling him little anything.
“i could entertain you way better than a movie,” he says. “just say the word.”
you chuckle and wave him off, going back to your flowers like he’s still the kid you used to babysit. “you’re such a flirt these days. go find a girl your own age.”
satoru stays leaning against the fence, watching you work, heart pounding and cock half-hard again. the frustration coils tighter in his chest. one day you’ll stop seeing him as the little boy next door. one day he’ll make you see exactly how much he’s grown—preferably while he’s buried nine inches deep inside you.
as you lean down deeper to reach a stubborn weed, your loose tank top slips forward. satoru catches a clear view of your tits—soft, full, and perfect, nipples just barely hidden by the thin fabric. the sight hits him like a punch to the gut.
his cock instantly swells, painfully hard again in seconds.
he can’t tear his eyes away. he imagines pulling your top down completely, watching those pretty tits spill out into his hands. he wants to grope them, squeeze them, bury his face between them while he fucks you. he wants to suck on your nipples until they’re swollen and sensitive, until you’re whimpering and arching into his mouth.
the urge to take a picture is so strong it almost hurts. he wants to save this view forever—the way your tits hang and sway as you work, the soft curve of them, the way they move when you shift. his fingers twitch at his side, desperate to grab his phone, but he forces himself to stay still.
he can’t. not without risking everything.
instead, he just stares, breathing hard through his nose, cock throbbing angrily in his pants as fantasies flood his mind. he wants to cover them in his cum. he wants to watch them bounce while you ride him. he wants to mark them as his.
he can’t take it anymore. muttering a quick excuse, he turns and practically runs inside his house. he doesn’t even make it up the stairs to his bedroom this time. the second he’s inside the downstairs bathroom, he locks the door, yanks his pants down, and wraps his hand around his throbbing cock.
he strokes himself furiously, leaning against the sink, replaying the image of your tits spilling out of your top and the memory of you riding your boyfriend. it only takes him a minute before he cums hard again, biting his arm to stay quiet as thick ropes paint the sink.
panting, flushed, and still half-hard, satoru stares at his reflection. he knows he’s completely fucked. but he also knows he won’t stop until you finally see him the way he sees you. lucky him, it didn’t take long for the next opportunity to arise.
the next time you come over, it’s to help with groceries like always.
satoru’s mom is out running errands, leaving the two of you alone in the kitchen. you’re putting things away, humming softly, completely unaware of the way satoru is watching you. he’s done playing nice. the images from the garden and that night through the window have been burning in his brain for days. he’s tired of being “cute little satoru.”
you reach for the top shelf, standing on your tiptoes, trying to slide a heavy bag of rice into place and your shorts pull tight across your ass.
“here, let me help,” satoru says.
he steps right behind you before you can protest. his tall frame cages you against the counter, one arm reaching easily over your head to push the bag into place. but he doesn’t step back. instead, he presses forward, letting you feel every inch of his hard cock against your ass through his sweatpants.
you freeze. “satoru…?”
he doesn’t move away. if anything, he presses closer, rolling his hips just enough for you to feel how thick and heavy he is. his breath is hot against your ear.
“you feel that?” he murmurs. “that’s what you do to me. every time i see you. every time you smile at me like i’m still that little kid.”
his hands slide down to grip your waist, holding you in place as he grinds slowly against you. the hard line of his cock nestles perfectly between your cheeks, and he lets out a shaky breath.
“i’m not a kid anymore,” he continues, lips brushing your ear. “i’ve been jerking off to you for months. thinking about bending you over this counter and fucking you. thinking about how much better i’d be than that useless boyfriend of yours.”
you try to turn around, but he keeps you pinned, chest pressed to your back.
“satoru, this isn’t funny—”
“i’m not joking.” his voice drops even lower, more aggressive. one hand slides up your side, thumb brushing the underside of your breast. “i saw you riding him the other night. through your window. he couldn’t even make you cum properly, could he? i would. i’d fuck you so good.”
he rolls his hips again, letting you feel how hard he is, how big. his cock twitches against you, desperate and leaking.
“tell me to stop and i will,” he whispers, even as his grip tightens possessively. “but i think you feel it too. how much i want you. how much better i can make you feel.”
you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru leans down, lips grazing your neck. “let me show you. just once. i’ll make you cum so many times you’ll be begging for more.”
you’re breathing faster now, trapped between the counter and his tall, muscular body. satoru doesn’t wait for a clear answer. he rolls his hips forward again, slower this time, deliberately dragging the thick ridge of his cock against your ass through your thin shorts.
a shaky breath escapes you and he feels it—the way your body tenses then softens just a little. encouraged, he does it again, pressing harder, grinding his clothed cock between your cheeks in slow rolls. the friction is maddening. even through two layers of fabric, you can feel how hot and heavy he is, how big.
“satoru…” your voice comes out breathless.
“shh,” he murmurs against your ear, lips brushing the sensitive skin. “just feel me.”
his hands tighten on your waist, holding you still as he starts dry humping you properly. long, deliberate thrusts that slide his hard length up and down between your ass cheeks. every roll makes your shorts ride up further, the fabric catching and pulling against your pussy. you can feel yourself getting wet, your body reacting even though your mind is still spinning.
satoru groans softly, forehead pressed to the back of your head. “fuck… you feel so good. been dreaming about this for so long.”
he picks up the pace a little, hips snapping forward with more urgency. the kitchen is quiet except for your shared heavy breathing and the faint rustle of clothes. you grip the edge of the counter, knuckles turning white, trying to steady yourself as heat pools low in your belly.
“you’re getting wet, aren’t you?” he whispers. one of his hands slides down your stomach, stopping just above the waistband of your shorts. “i can feel how warm you are. your body knows i’d be better.”
you bite your lip, a soft, involuntary whimper slipping out as he grinds particularly hard against you. the pressure on your clit through the fabric is driving you crazy. your breathing is turning faster, chest rising and falling quickly.
satoru notices immediately. a pleased sound rumbles in his chest.
“that’s it… getting breathless for me already?” he teases, but his voice is strained. he rolls his hips in a slow circle, pressing his cock right against your clothed entrance. “good girl. let me hear those pretty sounds.”
he keeps grinding harder, faster, like he’s trying to fuck you through your clothes. every thrust makes your tits bounce slightly and pulls another shaky breath from your lips. you’re starting to push back against him without thinking, chasing the friction.
satoru’s hand finally slips under your tank top, palm hot against your bare stomach.
“tell me to stop,” he rasps, lips against your neck, “or tell me to keep going. because if you don’t… i’m not gonna be able to hold back much longer.”
you’re panting now, head spinning, body burning under his aggressive touch. satoru keeps grinding against you like he’s possessed, cock throbbing against your ass, waiting for you to decide how far this is going to go.
“satoru… we can’t.” your fingers dig harder into the counter, knees feeling weak. “this is wrong… you’re—you’re basically still my—”
“we can,” he cuts you off. “we definitely can. and we’re going to.”
before you can protest again, his hand leaves your waist. you hear the metallic clink of his belt buckle, the sound of his zipper being dragged down. your heart hammers wildly as he frees his cock. it’s heavy and hot as it springs out, slapping against your ass cheek. he’s so hard it looks painful, the tip already leaking.
“feel what you do to me,” he murmurs, pressing the thick length against you again, this time with nothing but your thin shorts and panties between you.
his fingers hook into the side of your shorts and panties, tugging them just enough to the side. cool air hits your soaked pussy for a second before he slides his bare cock along your drenched folds. the hot, velvety length glides up and down your slick lips, parting them slightly with every slow stroke but never pushing inside.
you let out a broken whimper, forehead dropping against the cabinet door.
“fuck… you’re soaked,” satoru groans. he rocks his hips, sliding his cock repeatedly between your folds, coating himself in your wetness. the head catches on your clit with every pass, sending sparks shooting through you. “all this for me? and you still tried to say we can’t?”
he keeps the teasing motion going—long, deliberate slides from your entrance up to your clit and back down. every time the thick head nudges against your hole, you clench around nothing, aching to be filled. your breathing is ragged, little gasps and moans slipping out despite yourself.
satoru’s free hand comes back to your hip, holding you steady as he grinds his bare cock against your dripping pussy.
“see? we can. and it feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? just imagine how much better it’ll feel when i finally slide inside you.”
he presses forward a little harder, the head of his cock dipping just slightly against your entrance before sliding back up, teasing mercilessly. you’re trembling, breathless, torn between pushing him away and pushing back for more.
“tell me to stop… or tell me you want it. because i’m this close to bending you over and fucking you right here on the counter.”
finally, you break.
“…just the tip,” you whisper. “okay? just the tip, satoru. and don’t come inside me.”
the words barely leave your mouth before satoru groans like he’s been granted heaven. “fuck, yes. just the tip, baby. i promise.”
he lines himself up, the fat head of his cock pressing against your dripping entrance. he pushes forward slowly, and the stretch is immediate. only the tip slips inside you—just the swollen head breaching your tight walls. it’s enough to make both of you lose your minds.
“oh my god…” you gasp, fingers scrabbling against the counter. the feeling of him inside you, even just that little bit, is overwhelming. he’s so thick.
satoru’s forehead drops to your shoulder. “fuck… you’re so tight. so fucking warm. just the tip feels this good?”
he rocks his hips in tiny, shallow movements, fucking just the head in and out of you. every shallow thrust makes wet, obscene sounds echo in the quiet kitchen. he doesn’t push any deeper, but the way he’s teasing your entrance is driving you insane. the constant stretch and release has your walls fluttering around his tip, trying to pull him in further.
“satoru…” you whimper, pushing back against him despite yourself.
“i know, i know,” he pants. “just the tip. i’m being good. but fuck, baby… you’re sucking me in. your pussy wants more, doesn’t it?”
he keeps it like this—shallow little thrusts that only give you the head, never more. it’s torture. for both of you. satoru’s hands grip your hips so tightly you know you’ll have bruises. his breathing is harsh against your neck as he fights every instinct to slam all the way in.
“you feel so perfect,” he groans, circling his hips so the head rubs against that sensitive spot inside you. “i could cum just like this.”
you’re moaning softly now, completely breathless, knees shaking. the denial is making everything more intense. every shallow thrust sends sparks through your body, but it’s not enough. you need more, but you’re scared to ask.
satoru’s control is hanging by a thread. his cock twitches inside you, leaking precum, and he has to bite back a whine. then his hands slide up under your tank top, pushing it up until your breasts spill free. he immediately gropes them, one large hand squeezing and kneading your soft tits while his thumbs flick over your hardened nipples.
“mmh— satoru…” you moan, pushing back against him desperately.
he chuckles against your neck, pinching your nipples hard enough to make you gasp. “what’s wrong, baby? your loser boyfriend doesn’t play with these pretty tits like this? doesn’t know how sensitive you are here?” he rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging them while still fucking you with only the tip of his cock. every shallow thrust makes you clench greedily around his head, but it’s never enough.
“bet he doesn’t even make you wet like this,” satoru says, voice dripping with arrogance as he squeezes your breasts harder. “bet he fucks you like a pathetic little boy and still can’t make you cum. that’s why you’re dripping down my cock right now, isn’t it?”
you whimper helplessly, forehead pressed against the cabinet, hips trying to push back to take more of him. but satoru keeps perfect control—only giving you the tip, no matter how much you beg with your body.
“say it,” he murmurs, biting your shoulder lightly while still playing with your tits. “tell me his dick isn’t enough for you. tell me you need mine.”
he punctuates his words with another shallow thrust, the head of his cock catching perfectly against that spot right at your entrance. your moan comes out broken and needy.
“satoru… please—”
“please what? please fuck you properly? or please keep teasing this desperate little pussy until you’re crying for me?” then, just to torture you more, satoru pushes in a little deeper—only an extra inch, but it’s enough.
you cry out sharply, the sudden stretch pulling a broken, needy sound from your throat. your body reacts on instinct, pushing back against him desperately, trying to take more of his thick cock.
“greedy girl… you said just the tip, but look at you pushing back like you want me to ruin you.”
he gives you another shallow thrust, still not going all the way in, but deeper than before. you whimper pathetically, hips rocking back against him again, chasing the feeling. your pussy clenches hard around him, dripping down his length.
“fuck, you really want it, don’t you?” he laughs breathlessly against your ear “you want your former babysitting kid to fuck you stupid—”
the front door suddenly swings open.
“satoru? i’m back early—”
his mom’s voice cuts through the air like ice water.
you both freeze.
satoru reacts instantly, pulling out of you and yanking your tank top back down to cover your chest. he quickly tucks himself back into his pants, heart hammering. you’re still pressed against the counter, legs shaking, face burning with embarrassment as you try to fix your shorts.
his mom stands in the doorway only seconds later, holding grocery bags, blinking at the two of you.
satoru clears his throat, somehow managing to sound almost normal. “hey mom. we were just… putting the groceries away.”
you nod quickly, too mortified to speak, cheeks flaming red. your thighs are still trembling, pussy aching from being left empty and dripping.
his mom narrows her eyes slightly, suspicious. “hm. well, don’t make a mess in here.”
she sets the bags down and walks further into the kitchen, completely unaware of how close she came to catching her son balls-deep inside you.
satoru glances at you, eyes still dark. he leans in close while his mom’s back is turned, whispering hotly against your ear: “this isn’t over. next time i’m not stopping until you’re creaming all over my cock.”
you shiver, pressing your thighs together as you try to calm your racing heart.
summary. sukuna cannot stop fantasizing about you, the sweet waitress he frequents on his route. he’s convinced you’re too stupid to look after yourself, so he takes things into his own hands—which means showing up at your doorstep in the middle of the night with the means to fuck you.
warnings. NSFW/MDNI, DUB-CON, dead dove do not eat, stalking, perversions, corruption, obsession, sukuna is NOT a good person with very fucked up thoughts, bimbo reader, making out, dominant sukuna, sukuna has a prince albert piercing and a tattooed dick LOL, submissive reader, degradation, rough sex, size difference, running from it, marking, manhandling, cunnilingus, piv, missioniary, unprotected sex, slapping, unsolicited drugging/feeding aphrodisiacs without consent, mentions of lot lizards.
a/n. this was requested by 🚚 anon here <3 please read the warnings and enjoy! art by @/knullkhan
TRUCKER!SUKUNA took the exact same route every single week. 9 bleak hours behind the wheel, transporting goods and parts from one side of the country, to the other. And thrice a week, he would find himself at a humble little diner. Food was pretty shit, but it was better than going hungry for another 200 miles.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA is a simple man. Stack of six pancakes for a late breakfast, three sides of eggs doused in ketchup, fried hash browns, and black coffee that tasted... off. It was decent. But what kept him wasn’t the food, no. It was the doe-eyed waitress that would serve him like clockwork every time. Skimpy little skirt that showed off the curve of your ass, your tits practically hanging out from your uniform when you leaned over to take the hefty tip he’d leave.
It’s not like TRUCKER!SUKUNA had a hard time getting some. When he needed to wet his dick, he practically soaked it. But he couldn’t find himself getting as hard as he did than when you were in his proximity. Lot lizard’s couldn’t do it for him anymore, his cock flaccid when he tried to fuck literally anyone else.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA began to look forward to his unconventional brunches. No, not for the eggs or hash browns or pancakes. But for the pretty girl waiting for him. It was clear you were attracted to him at least, seeing as your pupils would dilate when he’d walk in and your gaze would fix on his rolled cuff shirt strangling his thick biceps.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA wants to fuck you. He wants to hear all the soft noises you make when his tongue flattens against your throbbing slit, how your tits will jiggle when he gropes you, how you’ll probably cry when he shoves his cock into you.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA is at risk of losing his job. His loads arrive late for drop-off and inspection, because now he lingers after your shift. He’ll sit in the driver’s seat, staring at you through the diner windows, waiting for you to clock out. And when you do, he doesn’t say anything to you, doesn’t even approach you.
No, TRUCKER!SUKUNA follows you home. You must be stupid seeing as you don’t notice the very same red truck with black detailing and flames parking down your block multiple times a week.
You need someone to look after you, TRUCKER!SUKUNA concludes. Someone to make sure you don’t fall into the wrong hands or bed, seeing as you’re too idiotic to sort this out yourself.
So, TRUCKER!SUKUNA spends the next few weeks keeping an eye on you. Making sure you get to work safely, that you receive enough of a tip to stash into your savings, to ensure you get home timely.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA has done so much for you. He scrubs the five o’clock shadow growing on his chin and jaw, certain that he’s due for a reward now. If only you’d known how he’s watched over you, you’d want to thank him, right?
Your doorbell rings in the middle of the night, stirring you from your slumber. You stumble out in a see-through tank that hugs you just right, and skimpy panties.
“Sukuna…?” you rub the sleep from your eyes, which widen when you see he’s clearly been standing in the rain for quite some time now as his pink strands have fallen over his forehead and cling to the skin, his leather jacket glistening with droplets.
TRUCKER!SUKUNAthinks you’re an angel that’s fallen from the heaven’s to bless him.
“Are you okay? I didn’t see you at the diner today,” you grab his wrist, pulling him inside and shutting the door behind you.
God, if TRUCKER!SUKUNA wanted to murder you right now, he could. Because not only have you opened the door for a stranger, you allowed him into your house.
But, no. TRUCKER!SUKUNA has other plans for you.
“Ya live alone, don’t you?”
You squint. “Yes, I do.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA towers over you, gaze dancing across your face. He’s never realized how soft and supple your skin was. “What about your boyfriend?”
“…I don’t have a boyfriend,” you whisper, feeling your voice waver as he corners you.
Your back meets the wall, and TRUCKER!SUKUNA slams a hand down next to your head.
“You’re dim, you know that?” he reckons, the low timbre of his tone sending sparks up your spine.
“E-excuse me?” you gulp, peering into his crimson irises that have thinned into slits. You’ve never been this close to him, but you feel your stomach somersaulting at the close proximity. He smells a little like cigarettes and gasoline.
“Could have my way with you right now. Since ya let anyone into this place,” he finally breaks his gaze from yours and looks around. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“To the left.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA smirks from ear to ear, before lifting you up and tossing you over his shoulder.
You gasp, head nearly knocking into his broad back. “Put me down!”
“Don’t worry your pretty little head, bird. I’ll be nice tonight. …Maybe.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA kicks the door to your bedroom open, tossing you onto your sheets and taking in his surroundings. You two are exact opposites—seeing the soft pastels of pink and yellow and purple decorating your space, decorated with plushies and figures.
You land on your back, blood roaring in your ears as TRUCKER!SUKUNA tugs his shirt over his head. Not only is he absolutely fucking shredded, but his skin is littered in scars and thick black ink, the tattoos only making him look all the more terrifying.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA crawls over you, slow and calculated like a predator hunting it’s prey. He slots himself between your thighs and grips your forearms just to pin them beside your head.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA kisses you. Not soft, not nice like he promised. Demanding, bruising. He’s rough as his weight settles atop you, shoving his tongue down your throat and nibbling on your lip just to hear you whimper. Teeth clashing, noses bumping, swapping saliva. He groans repeatedly, enough to tell you he’s enjoying this.
When you squirm, TRUCKER!SUKUNA presses his knee into your sex. You try to run from the mind-numbing bliss, but he doesn’t allow it. Heat settles low, your panties damp with slick and leaving a wet stain across the flimsy fabric.
You can barely breathe—chest heaving up and down, pushing against his bruising grip on your arms, but the man is a reinforced tank that refuses to budge.
When he finally pulls away, all breathless and wrecked with a flushed face and a sleazy grin, you know you’re in for a long night.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA plays with the strap of your tank, before tearing the fabric down the middle. You gasp, but he flicks a pebbled nipple with a click of his tongue. “I’ve given you enough money t’buy a millon of these, brat.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA latches his lips onto your perky tits, leaving bruising love bites across your unmarked skin, groaning as the tent in his jeans only grows suffocating.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA wants to be gentle. But gentle isn’t what you need, no. You need a guiding hand—one that keeps you in place when you fuck up and directs you where you need it. Reprimands you, punishes you. “Don’t fight it,” he groans low and wrecked, dragging his tongue up the shell of your ear. “Let me in.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA slots his head between your thighs, peppering soft kisses against your skin to get you to trust him. Glossy, wide eyes stare back at him. Uncertain, unsure. The first kiss he presses against your clothed clit has you bucking. “Already so wet f’me, hm?”
Your panties are torn down the middle of the gusset, and then you’re devoured like TRUCKER!SUKUNA has been starved for weeks. Suckling, nipping, biting. Spreading, teasing, lavving. You keen, tears biting your waterline as he works you open on a single digit. “S’like you’ve never been fucked… Have you? Been fucked? Can’t help but think a pretty thing like you has already been broken in… but the way you’re, fuck, squeezing n’ sucking me in… got me thinkin’ otherwise.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA works you through an orgasm, stars blotting out behind your eyelids as his tongue flicks your hooded clit and fingers stretch you wide, nestling deep and prodding those sweet spots. You orgasm again soon after the climax. Then another. And another. You start to lose track, thighs burning and core sore.
TRUCKER!SUKUNA barely allows you to catch your breath before he’s kissing you sloppily—your juices slathered all across his lips and chin soaking into your mouth. You taste him, and you taste you. “Gonna fuck you raw now, little bird.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA has a massive cock. After tugging his belt off, the metal clasp hitting your bedroom floor, and freeing himself from his briefs, do you feel your stomach swoon. It springs upwards with a slight curve. There’s a double band of black ink rings at the base, buried in pink pubic hair that looks rough to the touch. Bulging veins that run thick with molten lava dance across the length up to a weeping tip piercing with a horseshoe ring.
“Y-you have a-?”
“Prince Albert,” he smirks, all proud of himself as he strokes his dick. He cocks his head, muscles flexing as he watches you squirm. “You scared?”
Chewing the inside of your cheek, you shake your head timidly.
“Good. It doesn’t bite. But, I do.”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA splays his large palms on the backs of your thighs as he spreads you open, his dick rutting forward while he glides himself through your folds. He rests his dick on your abdomen, captivated in the size difference. “Gonna feel me in your lungs like this, woman. So fuckin' cute,” he teases as he runs his hands across your body.
When he’s noticed that you’ve had enough foreplay, he presses his unprotected tip against your entrance. You grip the sheets, your breath catching in your throat. When TRUCKER!SUKUNAnotices your inability to breath properly while he feeds his cock to you, his calloused palm meets your cheek, slapping some sense into you. “Not gonna fuck you if you’re passed out, brat,” he grumbles, leaning down to dig his teeth into your collarbone. “Where’s the fun in that?”
TRUCKER!SUKUNA is a rough fuck. You can barely accommodate to his girthy size, but he continues to push deeper, stretching you out until all you feel is him. His thrusts start off slow, shallow. But when he’s grown impatient, he punctuates each groan with a deep stroke. You cry out, fingernails raking crimson trails to match his eyes down his biceps and shoulder-blades. “Tryna’ milk me for everything I’ve got, woman?”
It doesn’t help that his cock is fucking you senseless, but the cold, metallic feel of his piercing swathed in precum bumping your G-spot has you convulsing and screaming out his name. His grunts, barely contained nor controlled, vibrate through your ears as he pumps in and out and in and out of your drooling hole.
You’re not sure how many times you hit your peak that night seeing as you passed out at some point and woke up to a barely legible note scribbled on a napkin from TRUCKER!SUKUNA, saying he had to get his affairs sorted.
But, you know TRUCKER!SUKUNA won’t be gone for long, at least not with the aphrodisiacs you’d been slipping into his coffee at every visit to your diner.
Your Roommate Yuji has always been a big guy since you've known him he's always been taller than most guys, buffer then most and well stronger than most too, it's always been his thing.
Roommate Yuji who randomly said he wanted to start bulking up you weren't against it, it was just kinda surprising.
So here you are a couple months in and Roommate Yuji is already filling out clothes that were loose on him and not fit those that were his perfect size, his pecs are literally pulling on the seams of his button up shirts, your hands can't even fully wrap around his back when you hug him with how much bigger they are, his thighs are messing up your head with how much they're filling out his pants and goddamn those biceps.
Roommate Yuji who sends you a progress photo shirtless in the gym changing room showing off his gains not knowing you are laying in bed stuffing your pussy with your fingers to those images whilst wearing one of his many compression shirts
Roommate Yuji who is talking to you as he helps you get something off the top shelf and all you can think about is the way his back moves in the compression shirt, the little sliver of skin showing his abs as he lifts his arm and those biceps reaching into the shelf, he's not doing anything over the top but here you are imagining him bending you over and fucking you with his bicep choking you out
Roommate Yuji may or may not have noticed your interest in bigger guys especially seeing the stuff you like online and may or may not have decided to replicate that just so he can grab your attention.
Roommate Yuji isn't blind he knows how pretty you are and he always tries to not make it obvious so he doesn't come off as creepy roommate but can you blame him when you walk around the house wearing those cute shorts or when you try to reach something on the top shelf and your shirt lifts giving him a sliver of skin.
Roommate Yuji who purposely gives you his shirts that no longer fit him just so he can see you walking around in his clothes with your nipples poking through them and maybe he does that so he can fist his cock in the shower after coming from the gym to the thought of bending you over and fucking you in his shirt.
It's another day of Roommate Yuji being at the gym and you finally snagged another one of his gym shirts, and him sending you another gym photo saying he won't be back till later today it's like the universe is smiling down on you, that's why your'e on your hands and knees back arched face in his shirt as your fuck yourself stupid on a vibe moaning out his name "y-yuji please"
Roommate Yuji is such an idiot he forgot the flash drive he needed for the project he has due and needed to work on, imagine his surprise when he comes into the house just pass by your door to hear a very faint buzzing sound, he was gonna knock until he hears a muffled "f-fuck y-yuji right there~".
Roommate Yuji opens your room door just to find you face down ass up his gym shirt under you with a vibe against your clit, he feels light headed as all the blood rushes from his blushing face down south. "Didn't know you loved my shirt that much" he says walking up to your bed, a surprised sound comes from you as you scramble to cover up "YUJI what- no- why are you- how did you get in? " you say pulling your covers over you, feeling a flush of embarrassment run over your skin.
Yuji wasn't supposed to be home now he was working on a project yea he said that he was gonna be busy oh my gosh he probably thinks I'm a disgusting pervert getting off to sniffing his clothes, your mind is running a mile a minute, just for Yuji to lean over your bed and reach for the toy you were using that was still buzzing away on the bed "well this is my house too and I needed to pick something up, but who would've thought that my goody two shoes roommate" he whispers whilst holding the vibe and slowly unraveling your covers "was actually a horny slut who gets off to my gym clothes" your high squeal bounces off the walls as he places the vibe back on your clit and holding you down with his palm on your tummy as you trash about to escape the stimulation.
You were already on the edge and the embarrassing situation has you covering your face as you ride his hand holding the vibrator, "I-i'm gonna I'm gonna-" suddenly he pulls away leaving you high and dry.
Still processing the orgasm denial you're suddenly flipped over "you don't get the cum unless it's on my cock" he pulls your hips to his cock and slowly sinks in to the base a deep guttural sound comes out from deep in his chest. His thrusts are hard and fast like he's trying to meld himself into you and sink himself totally into your cunt "F-fuck can't believe you've been hnghh keeping this cunt from me all along roomie" he groans.
God, he's so big, his hands are so big, his palms pressing against the back of your neck his hand holding your waist and his cock rubbing against your cervix everytime he drilled into you, the curved head rubbing against your g-spot again and again.
"Hahhh 'ji s'too muchhhh" you drool out whilst trying to reach behind you to push against his pelvis "you. can. take. IT. "He grunts as he finally puts all his weight on you punctuating every word with a hard thrust and slowly he wraps his bicep under your chin and squeezes your face into a pout "I noticed you always loved -shit complimenting my biceps" flexing them even more as he cuts off your air flow and has you gasping out moans of "y-yes yes I doo~".
"So glad you love my body I started bulking all for you so guess it worked" he whispers in your ear and hearing that literally has your eyes rolling back and cunt spasming as you finally get to cum on your roommates dick, the orgasm is toe curling and erratic with a loud moan spilling out of you, Yuji's pace becomes uncoordinated as he finally spills in you and fills you up with his spunk as he moans lowly into the juncture of your neck.
"I guess bulking season is over " he says with his signature goofy smile.
WARNINGS: Non-Con, loss of virginity, depression, mentions of blood, semi-public sex, underage drinking, non canon ages, Carrera!reader, Rafe is an asshole with a capital A
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics
summary: Rafe Cameron never thought of himself as the hunting type, but the more you hid, the more he wanted to find you.
⭑
You curled up in the corner of the couch with your knees pulled to your chest as you faintly registered the conversation happening around you. You tried to engage enough to be considered present, but it was hard, and you didn’t think you were fooling anyone. You were positive that you hadn’t been fooling anyone for weeks, and when you glanced up you weren’t surprised to catch Kiara’s eye.
She was worried about you.
You never would’ve known if she hadn’t cornered you last week, not-so-subtly subtly trying to pry information from you to determine what had triggered this change in demeanor. You’d stupidly thought that you were behaving normally, somehow convincing yourself that you weren’t acting differently, at all. After all, you still hung out with your friends and laughed at their jokes and smiled whenever JJ showed you the fish he caught.
“You just seem…” Kiara shook her head. “…kind of spacey, I guess. Like you’re here, but…you’re not.”
That was what she’d said to you when you’d unconvincingly asked her what she meant.
You recalled letting out a near silent scoff, the realization washing over you that you weren’t doing as good of a job as you thought. It made you wonder how long the other girl had noticed without saying anything, and then, that only made you wonder about the rest of your friends too. Granted, Kiara was your sister, so she was bound to notice more than they did, but you’d also never written her off as the most observant.
Especially now that so much of her time was taken up by JJ.
So…if she noticed…
You swallowed, unable to sit here and put in more effort to appear somewhat happy. You couldn’t deal with Kiara’s periodic glances as well as wondering what they were saying about you when you weren’t around. You knew it wouldn’t be anything bad, but you suddenly felt like the elephant in the room. Even more so when all eyes focused on you the very second you started to stand.
“I think I’m gonna go home,” you said, shaking your head the moment Kiara started to stand too. “All I had today was an iced coffee, and it’s finally catching up to me, I think.”
“Even more reason to stay,” Pope told you, and you sent him a small smile.
“Even more reason to go lie down in my bed,” you chuckled.
When your eyes met Kiara’s, she stood anyway, a sigh leaving her as she reached for her keys.
“Well, I’m at least driving you.”
Her tone left little room for argument, and choosing to pick your battles, you simply gave her a small thanks. You waved everyone else bye after putting on your shoes, and you didn’t need to look over to know that your sister was staring at you as she walked at your side.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stay with you? I mean, if you’re not feeling good someone should be home with you. Mom and dad are at The Wreck.”
“I’m literally just feeling a little lightheaded,” you assured her as you got in. “It’s nothing some noodles can’t fix.”
She didn’t look all that convinced, but she bit her tongue to whatever was clearly on her mind. The ride back home was pretty quiet outside of you flickering between stations here and there, and Kiara’s lack of protest over it clued you in on just how worried about you she was. Its why you weren’t surprised when you were prevented from hopping out the moment she parked in front of the house.
She’d reached out to you to stop you, and there was an unsure look flickering over her face. You could see that she was contemplating how to say whatever it was she was going to say, and eventually she just sighed.
“I know that I haven’t been available as much ever since JJ and I started dating,” she slowly started, eyeing you. “…but you know that if you ever want to talk, I’d blow him off in a heartbeat, right?”
You gave her a small smile.
“I know.”
She still didn’t look satisfied, probably hoping this would be an opportunity to really talk about whatever she wondered was going on with you. When it was clear you weren’t going to give her what she wanted, she merely pressed her lips together with a nod. She gave you a soft ‘okay’ before reluctantly unlocking the vehicle. You didn’t look back once you made it inside, but you didn’t need to to know she hadn’t driven off right away.
The sound reached your ears when she finally did.
You pressed your back to the wall the minute you were finally alone, and you stared at the wall before you for what felt like a long time before it eventually started to blur. Once the first tear escaped, the rest quickly followed, and your lips trembled as you roughly wiped your face. Your gaze rested on the family pictures on the wall, focusing on your smiling face in particular, and you wondered if you’d ever smile like that again.
You would never in a million years tell Kiara what was wrong. Not because you didn’t trust her and not because she wouldn’t believe you, but because you should’ve known better. You should’ve fucking known better, and instead of listening to what you knew, you ignored every instinct inside of you just to be nice. It was bad enough that two people in this world knew just how stupid and naïve you could be.
You didn’t think you could handle any more than that.
With a choked sob, you slid to the floor, head tilted back as you gazed at the ceiling. It was the same ceiling throughout the whole house, same color and all, and you found that gazing at it—as you’d done that night—brought you some comfort. It was all that had filled your vision when you’d felt more and more detached from your body, eyes tracing every inch of it as he’d pinned your wrists to your bed.
Staring at it calmed you, the sight of it much more enjoyable without Rafe Cameron’s heavy breathing in your ear.
“You want to hear something funny?”
The voice just at your ear was low, but the suddenness of it startled you, nonetheless, and when you turned, a familiar face was greeting you with a grin. His perfect teeth were winking at you as you slowly turned to fully face him, equal parts cautious and curious. Your grip on the red cup in your hand tightened for a half a second before you took a step back, thankful that no one was behind you to bump into.
“I was just at the beach,” the older guy said, leaning in so you could hear him. “…and your sister said you were at home because you’re in trouble.”
You felt all color drain from your face at his words, and by the look on his own face when he pulled back, he knew the exact effect they had on you.
“…but yet, here you are.”
Rafe Cameron looked nothing short of like the cat who caught the canary as he leaned his hand on the couch you both were standing next to. He had a drink of his own in his hand—although his wasn’t nearly as empty as yours—and his head was tilted as he eyed you. You watched him tilt his cup up to his lips, those blue eyes of his holding your gaze over the rim as his words—and what they meant—floated between you.
You scoffed at him.
“Kie would never talk to you,” was your best response, and you didn’t like the way his smirk grew.
“I never said she did,” he haughtily replied. “Only that she said it…and I heard her.”
Accepting that you’d been caught, you rolled your eyes, and the oldest Cameron only chuckled.
“You can relax, Carrera,” he drawled, laughing again before taking another sip. “Do I look like I care if Kie’s baby sister wants to sneak out to a party she has no business being at?”
“I’m not a baby,” the words flew out before you could stop them.
Of course, that didn’t need to be said, but despite the fact that you were only one year younger than Kiara and your friends, they had a moderately annoying habit of treating like you were a child. You suspected it was because Kiara always acted like she was much older than you than she actually was. The girl was twenty, not twenty-nine, and her behavior had long rubbed off.
You didn’t know if you liked the onceover Rafe gave you, blue gaze slowly taking you in from your hair all the way down to your platform flip flops and back.
“No shit,” he said matter-of-factly and leaning in, a crooked smile on his pink lips as he shook his head. “…but you’re two years younger than me, so unfortunately, that makes you a tad more childish than I am.”
“Rafe Cameron? Childish? Never,” you sarcastically said to him just before finishing your drink.
Rafe seemed to be really entertained by you for some reason, and when you lowered your hand, his gaze fell to your cup. When his eyes met yours again, he threw you a playful smirk.
“Do you want another drink?”
You held his gaze for a few seconds more before glancing away, eyes taking in the party that you weren’t supposed to be at. It wasn’t like your parents could actually legally stop you from walking out of their house and going to any party you wanted, but considering you were still at home with no means of independence whatsoever, you didn’t see the appeal in blatantly disrespecting them. Especially since you deserved your lashings for mishandling money they gave you.
You were starting to think you’d pushed your luck enough.
“I’m not even supposed to be here,” you told Rafe, throwing him a sheepish look. “I should probably go home.”
Rafe didn’t immediately respond to that, only staring at you for a moment before eventually nodding. You watched him take another swallow of beer, his eyes still on yours.
“You got a ride?” he wondered.
“Yeah.”
You answered too quick, and Rafe tilted his head at you, giving you a look that let you know he didn’t buy that.
“Really. Who?”
All of your friends were currently at the beach with your sister, and Rafe already knew that none of them knew you were even here. When you sighed in defeat, Rafe’s smirk grew, the corner of his lips pulling upwards.
“Fine, I walked…and I’ll walk back,” you told him with a shrug.
“Mm mmm,” Rafe hummed with a shake of his head as he downed the rest of his drink. “Come on, I’ll drive you.”
He took your empty cup, and along with his, set them both down on a nearby table. You hesitated as he dug in his pocket for his keys, lips parting as you mulled over if this was what you wanted to do. It wouldn’t be the first time you walked back home from a party no one knew you were at. Granted, thankfully nothing had ever happened, but you didn’t know. It could finally be the night your luck ran out.
Nothing hardly happened on this side of the island much, anyway, but you started to feel silly for contemplating turning down a perfectly fine ride home. Rafe could be kind of an asshole, but nothing worse than the average Kook you encountered on a regular basis. Besides, even though you were far from friends, it wasn’t like you didn’t know him. You were literally best friends with his sister.
“Are you sure?” you asked him. “I really don’t mind walking.”
Rafe chuckled at you like he thought you were cute, and he gently touched your arm as he guided you through the full house. His chest grazed your back as he remained close, keeping you steady and on track to the door.
“Walking home in Kildare County on a Saturday night?” he wondered in your ear. “Never mind the drunk drivers, but you never know what creep might come along and just pluck you off the street.”
You scoffed at him, and Rafe’s laugh was in your ear as he led you outside.
“Is it bad?” Kiara wondered, looking between your face and your plate. “If dad’s off his A-game tonight, you can tell me.”
Pope and JJ chuckled at that, and you merely shook your head, pushing your food around before sitting up.
“No, I…” you licked your lips. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.”
When your eyes met Kiara’s, she was frowning, and you could tell that a small lecture about your eating habits was on the tip of her tongue when Sarah spoke up.
“It’s not good to eat so much on an empty stomach, anyway,” Sarah jumped in, throwing Kiara a look before smiling at you. “Just take your time.”
You appreciated that, and you sat back in your seat as Cleo asked John B. something about a noise his van was apparently making earlier. By the uptick in conversation at the table, you got the sense that the noise had some crazy story attached, and you tried to listen—you really did—but your mind kept floating somewhere else entirely, and when a familiar face flashed behind your eyes, you desperately craved a drink.
You had just set your empty water glass down when you heard a voice that might as well had been a bucket of ice for you. Your gaze was glued to the table as you froze, fingers grazing the glass, and even though you told yourself you were imagining things, your heart wouldn’t slow down. It felt like it was going to jump straight out of your throat, doubly so when the voice became so much clearer.
“I told you she’d be here.”
That haughty drawl made your hair stand on end, and you were so glad that your head was down so that no one could see the way your eyes watered. Sarah made a noise of disapproval, and you shared her sentiments completely. He wasn’t alone, Kelce and Topper’s voices reaching your ears too, and as much as you wanted to be anywhere but here…
You couldn’t move.
You were completely frozen in your seat, pinned down by some invisible force that wouldn’t allow you to get up and get as far away from Rafe Cameron as possible. You’d done a good job of avoiding him for damn near two months—avoiding any party or outing he might be at—but you were running out of excuses as to why you wanted to stay home or why you didn’t want to take advantage of a free meal at your parents’ restaurant.
You reached up to wipe your face just as he spoke again…closer this time.
“Rose said whenever you’re done doing…” he paused. “…whatever it is you’re doing to come straight home.”
You didn’t need to look up to know that small sneer was on his face. You could almost picture it, those blue eyes sparkling and those nostrils of his flared—almost in disgust. It was a very vivid expression, one you recalled being on the receiving end of when you begged him to stop. He’d looked at you like you didn’t have the right to even find the audacity to ask him such a thing.
“Did you ask what she wanted?”
Rafe didn’t answer, but the barked laugh that left his lips was answer enough.
You blinked at the table, still so…still, and some part of you—an irrational part—wondered that if you remained still, maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t see you. Maybe he wouldn’t acknowledge you. Even if he didn’t do it with his words, you didn’t know if you could handle being on the receiving end of that blue gaze.
However, the way that your skin suddenly pricked told you that your efforts were in vain.
“Lunch on the house with your friends?” he wondered to Sarah no doubt. “That’s cute.”
He dragged it out in a mockingly condescending way. After a beat of silence, you heard Rafe hum.
“I’d hurry up if I were you,” he advised. “Rose made it seem like it was urgent.”
You heard him walking, and it sounded like he and his friends were making their way towards the counter.
“Nice to see you all again. JJ, Cleo…”
He was slowly acknowledging everyone at the table, and you felt bile rising in your throat at the realization. The feeling became even worse once it became clear that Rafe was saving you for last, and your stomach violently turned when his lips finally curled around your name.
“Y/N.”
You felt light—too light—and where you once even felt maybe too cold you now felt overheated. Sarah was complaining about his lingering presence when you finally glanced up, hating the way your name fell from his tongue. You were unsurprised to meet his gaze, and if you thought for a moment that Rafe would look at you in a way that was anything like indifference or contentment…you were wrong.
It happened so fast as Sarah shooed him away. There was a glint in Rafe’s eyes when they looked into yours, and it was a look that spoke volumes. A small smirk danced along his lips, and there was nothing content about it. It said so many things without Rafe uttering a single word, doubly so when he gave you a quick onceover. Rafe had only said your name, but you understood him loud and clear.
We both know I had you and you couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
The moment he was at the counter with Topper and Kelce, you finally found the strength to move…and you used all of it to stumble to your feet and out of The Wreck. Kiara was quick to follow you out of the restaurant, on your heels just in time to witness you throwing up what little you ate all over the pavement. Her gasp was barely registered as your stomach heaved again, and you could hear that it was no longer just your sister with you.
“Cheese on bread,” you heard Cleo say in shock. “Pope, go get a napkin or something.”
By the time he came back, there wasn’t anything left in your stomach, and you thanked him as you took it. Kiara’s eyes were wide and concerned when you looked at her, wiping your mouth and tongue.
“Are you okay? Was it…the food? You barely ate anything,” she added, and you shook your head.
“My stomach’s been a little upset all day. Maybe Sarah was right, and I ate too much and too fast.”
Your words came out a bit slurred, and you noted how hot and lightheaded you felt. You remembered that vomiting dehydrated you, and Kiara seemed to remember the same thing, reaching for her keys.
“We should get you home,” she finally said, turning to glance at your friends. “We’ll see you guys later.”
You frowned at her when she pushed you towards her car.
“Kie, I’ll be fine. You can come back after you drop me off,” you told her, gesturing to them.
She merely gave you a look as you both slid into the vehicle. You could tell that she didn’t agree with that suggestion at all, but there was also something in her dark gaze that gave you pause. Worry clouded her face as she pulled out of the parking lot, and you found yourself eyeing her. Kiara was never one to keep her thoughts to herself when she clearly had something serious she wanted to say.
You were put out of your misery halfway to your house.
“Are you pregnant?”
Somehow that was the last thing you expected to hear her blurt out, and her concerned gaze met your wide one. While not entirely impossible, you were almost one hundred percent sure that you weren’t, and you gave her a ridiculous look.
“What? No!”
“Don’t…! Don’t look at me like that, alright? That’s not a crazy question-.”
“That’s not a crazy question…” you repeated, sounding more like a statement.
“No, it’s not,” she doubled down, looking between you and the road. “Not when you’ve been acting strange for two months! You’re not really here and I feel like we barely see you now and then today…”
She shrugged.
“You threw up in the middle of the day despite the fact that you’d barely eaten a thing.”
“…and you don’t think I’d be eating a lot more if I was pregnant?”
Kiara seemed to think that over, sitting back in her seat with a sigh. Her hands were tight on the wheel, and you could see her accepting how crazy that seemed. She roughly exhaled.
“Well, something’s wrong with you,” she forced out, sounding defeated, and you weren’t able to hold her gaze when she looked over. “I’ve been trying to be a good sister and just…let you know you can come to me in your own time.”
You wrapped your arms around yourself.
“…but I’m getting scared.”
Her voice was small, and you didn’t have a good response to that. Denying that anything was wrong would just insult her intelligence and probably make her worry more. You swallowed, fighting back tears and wondering how you could ever tell her what happened. You barely even wanted to think about it—despite how much it plagued your thoughts—let alone actually talking about it.
You didn’t know how to even begin to tell Kiara that your friend’s brother had raped you…in your own house…in your own bed, no less. You couldn’t stomach walking her through what happened that night and its eventual horrifying end. You didn’t know how to tell her that you’d been so stupid…and you especially didn’t know how to tell her that Rafe Cameron was walking around like he wasn’t even somewhat remorseful about what he did.
…but instead proud.
You didn’t know how to voice any of that, so when she parked, you were quick to be the first one out. You fixed her with a look that was meant to reassure her, but you didn’t know if you pulled it off. Gazing into Kiara’s eyes, you lied straight to her face with a small smile.
“I promise, it’s nothing.”
You didn’t give her the chance to respond, making your way up the driveway.
You’d been standing at the top of the stairs for a minute too long when your mom called for you again. When she’d called you down the first time, you hadn’t even considered what it could be for, just acting on instinct and pulling yourself out of bed. You hadn’t given much thought to the fact that you’d heard her answer the door only moments before. However, the moment you reached the top of the stairs, you’d tried to tell yourself that you were imagining that voice.
That hauntingly familiar voice.
His soft laugh reached your ears at something your mom said, and the sound of it brought tears to your eyes. Like at The Wreck only just the other day, you found it hard to move. Your hand was on the staircase and one foot was already on the step below, but you were finding it so hard to will yourself to move—to act like everything was normal.
To act like Rafe Cameron wasn’t in your house.
Again.
“I wonder if she’s…” your mom trailed off when she rounded the corner, face lighting up at the sight of you. “There she is! Come on, you’ll never believe it.”
Her presence—and her hand reaching for yours—gave you the strength to finally put one foot in front of the other. The whole ordeal felt like an out of body experience, your lips parted and eyes fearful as she led you into the living room, forcing you to come face to face with those blue eyes yet again. There was a grin on his lips as he stood by your door. To your mom, it was charming.
It was predatory to you.
“You will never believe what Rafe found,” she said, sounding so pleased.
When the other guy held his hand out…you wanted to be sick.
“It was just there…at the beach,” his smooth voice explained, and you were certain now more than ever.
You were going to be sick.
When your gaze lifted to meet Rafe’s, finally pulling your eyes away from your wallet, your heart sank. Your mom was going on a tangent in thanking him while you had yet to utter a single word. You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to push him into the street, and you couldn’t even fix your mind to take the damned thing.
Rafe didn’t find your wallet on any beach.
You knew it, and he knew it.
He’d taken it the night he raped you.
Despite how terrified you were, you couldn’t break the gaze. Why? Why was he doing this? The oldest Cameron had gotten exactly what he wanted from you, so what did he get out of this? It wasn’t enough that he broke your trust and violated you, but now he meant to torment you too? You hadn’t even told a soul what he did. You hadn’t gone to the police, done a rape kit or anything, he got away with it, so what was the point of all this?
Beyond the despair and confusion, you could feel a hint of anger flaring within you, and that small flare must have made itself visible through your eyes…because the look Rafe gave you had you taking a step back. Your mom noticed, and she rubbed your back.
“Everything’s in there,” she assured you. “I know we got you a new one and everything, but at least you can know it found its way into good hands.”
Both her and Rafe chuckled at that, and your lips parted as you stared at him.
The look that Rafe had given you… For that brief moment when you felt a hint of anger, just a smidgen, the look in those blue eyes had made your blood run cold. There was a crooked smile on his lips and a softness to his visage, but Rafe’s eyes had told an entirely different story. There had been a glint in his gaze—a challenge—like he was almost itching to see what you would try and do to him.
At your mom’s urging—and with shaky hands—you hesitantly reached out to take your wallet, careful to avoid touching his fingers. You didn’t even recall thanking him, but you must have, because Rafe looked you over with a quickness your mom missed, that smile of his growing when your eyes met again.
“You’re welcome,” he slowly responded, almost dragging the words out in that smooth baritone.
“Rafe, would you like something to drink before you go?” your mom offered, and both of your minds seemed to go to the same place.
Tears kissed your eyes as her steps traveled to the kitchen, and Rafe full on grinned, briefly pulling his lip between his teeth as he brushed past you. You leaned away from him as he grazed you, and you didn’t imagine the way he’d turned his head to keep his eyes on you as he did.
“Just some water, thanks.”
Those words made your knees buckle, and you reached out, struggling to safely sit down on the couch. Your wallet fell from your hands as you heard him compliment her on the house, and the more he talked, the more your stomach churned.
“It’s so bright and cozy in here,” he praised. “I almost wish Y/N would lose her wallet again just so I have an excuse to come back.”
Wholly unamused by whatever he was doing, your tears spilled over, and you didn’t bother to make your exit known as you stood and stumbled through the front door.
“Hey, you mind if I can get some water?” Rafe said to you the moment he parked in your driveway, turning to you with a small smile. “I drank more than I thought I did, and I kind of want to sober up a little before I get back on the road.”
Your brows rose at that, stupidly under the impression that Rafe only had one beer, but there was no telling just how long he’d been at the party before bumping into you. You probably should’ve asked, and even though you knew Kiara—and maybe even your parents—wouldn’t approve of inviting a guy inside the empty house on a Saturday night, Rafe had driven you home. The least you could do was give him some water to make him feel better about driving.
“No, yeah, that’s fine.”
Rafe got out after you did, following behind you as you took your keys out. Saturday nights meant a packed restaurant, so you weren’t expecting anyone home for another few hours at the least. It wouldn’t take any time at all to give Rafe something to drink and send him on his way.
“It’s quiet in here,” he commented as you tossed your keys on the table by the door.
“The Wreck on a Saturday? Both of my parents kind of need to be there for that madness.”
Rafe amusingly agreed, and when you reached for a glass from the dishwasher, you glanced over to find Rafe’s gaze on you.
“What…?”
He was leaning against the entrance to the kitchen, arms crossed over his chest. You only just paid attention to his shirt and the way it pulled against him with every movement.
“Never pegged you as the type to sneak out. Seems more like Kie, to be honest.”
His comment made you laugh, and you tilted your head at him when you handed him the glass.
“One of us is just better at it,” you teased. “Besides, I snuck out for an hour and a half at the most. It barely counts.”
Rafe simply eyed you as he drank the water you gave him. You felt a tad awkward being alone with Rafe in your house, but it was only because you guys were far from friends, and you couldn’t recall a time you’d ever even had an actual conversation with him.
“I’m surprised you went to some Kook party,” he hummed, lowering his arm. “What? No boyfriend on The Cut you wanted to meet up with?”
Rafe’s gaze was so intense as he held eye contact, and it was then that you realized you didn’t think you’d ever been on the receiving end of it before. At least…not for an extended period of time like this. Having all of his attention felt strange.
“No,” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I don’t really date.”
Rafe blinked at you, folding his arms again as he tilted his head. There was a curious twinkle in his eye, and you didn’t miss the way he ran his gaze over your face.
“Why not?” he wondered with a frown.
“Um,” you said, rolling your eyes towards the ceiling. “…because a lot of you are assholes.”
Rafe laughed with you, nodding his head.
“That’s fair,” he admitted. “…and smart. A lot of guys wouldn’t know what to do with you, anyway.”
You gave a chuckle at that, not because you found it funny, but because you didn’t know how to respond. Your gaze traveled to his empty glass while his remained on you, and a silence descended between you that reminded you he shouldn’t be here.
“Do you want another before you go?” you asked him, trying to politely kick him out.
There was a faint smile on his pink lips as he stared at you, and when he handed it to you, the corner of his lips twitched.
“That’s sweet of you…”
His fingers brushed yours when you took the empty glass, and you could feel his gaze on your back when you made your way to the sink. Your own gaze was on the faucet, and you were thinking about the shower you were going to take when you felt something brush against your arm. The feel startled you, and the glass fell in the sink when you jumped.
You hadn’t heard Rafe move, so you were shocked that he was so close.
“What are you…?”
Your words died in the air when the blond kissed you, his lips covering yours so expertly that you might’ve appreciated the opportunity under different circumstances. When you reached up to push at his chest, Rafe only responded by backing you up against the fridge. The only way to get your words out was to turn your head.
“Rafe, what…? Stop,” you gasped, pushing at his chest.
You liked to think that he was more drunk than either of you realized, but when he reached up to grab your hand, holding you against him as he pulled his face away, that mocking grin on his lips told you otherwise.
“Why?” he asked you like it was the craziest thing he’d ever heard.
You ducked your head when he tried to kiss you again, harshly pushing at his chest, now, but Rafe was just as strong as he looked. When his lips met yours again, this kiss was rougher, and an uncomfortable gasp escaped you when one of his hands found the side of your neck. His teeth nipped at your lip, and following his lead, you bit him. Hard.
Blood welled on his lip when he snatched himself away from you, and the look he fixed you with broke you out of your momentary stupor. Your heart sank low in your chest, something in you screaming at you that Rafe wasn’t joking, and he wasn’t just trying to get handsy.
“Rafe, I think you should leave.”
Your words amused him, and he laughed to himself.
“…and if I don’t want to?”
You swallowed, and his eyes zeroed in on the movement.
“I’m serious,” you told him, voice cracking. “I want you to leave.”
Again, your demand clearly tickled him, and you realized then that this wasn’t going to work this way.
You made it as far as the hallway before his hand fisted your shirt, yanking you back so hard that the fabric pulled against your throat. The wind was knocked out of you when your back roughly collided with his chest, and once he got his arm around you, the door became farther and farther away.
“Rafe, you’re not funny,” you said to him, panicked and out of breath as you fought to get his hands off of you. “Rafe!”
Deep down, some part of you wanted it to be a joke gone too far, that maybe if he heard how scared you were then he would stop. To your horror though, Rafe seemed to like the fear in your voice, pinning you to the wall as he leaned in to press sloppy kisses to your neck. He was kissing you and yanking you up the stairs, and that only made your panic grow.
You hadn’t realized you’d started crying until your vision—and Rafe along with it—grew blurry. Your face felt cold as the air hit your wet skin, and in that moment, oddly enough, you were furious that yours and Kiara’s room doors were labeled because Rafe knew exactly which one to force you in. Your stomach turned at the thought of this taking place in your room.
Your safe space.
When it became clear that you wouldn’t be able to get away by fighting him off, you screamed.
Rafe had you pinned to your bed at this point, and he didn’t like the sound, fighting to cover your mouth. With one hand free, he could still pull at your clothes—the dress you’d warn to the party literally being ripped off of you. Everything was happening too fast, your mind fighting to understand how you’d just been downstairs getting him water not even fifteen minutes ago.
“Rafe, please,” you tearfully begged him, pushing against him and hitting him despite the little damage it was doing. “Get off, get off, please!”
The light from the hallway cast onto his face, and so you didn’t miss the sneer Rafe gave you. You didn’t miss the way his lip curled over his teeth, a look passing over his face like he couldn’t believe you dared to ask that of him. He even let out a soft laugh. He pushed against your chest as he reached between you, painfully holding you down, and your legs kicked around him, nails drawing blood on his arm.
You felt like you were having a panic attack when you felt the tip of him graze you. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and Rafe didn’t kiss you again until he was inside of you, taking full advantage of your shock and agony. You felt frozen, eyes squeezed shut as the pain between your legs became unbearable, and when he tasted the inside of your mouth, you noted that there was hardly a hint of alcohol in his.
You sat behind some stranger’s car, arms wrapped around your knees as you fought to catch your breath. The sounds of the party on the beach reached you all the way to the parking lot, and you wondered why you fought so hard to act normal when nothing was normal. You weren’t okay, and it was growing increasingly more difficult to pretend you were.
You just wanted Kiara and your friends to stop worrying.
You hadn’t expected to see Rafe of all people on the beach when you joined the festivities. He tended to prefer a fancy house party with coke and other party favors. One look at him had you stopping in your tracks, and you’d made sure to look elsewhere before Cleo could notice.
“You okay?” she’d asked you, and unable to come up with a believable lie, you just told her you’d be right back.
That had to have been at least twenty minutes ago, and no matter how many times you started to, you couldn’t bring yourself to get up. Rafe was tormenting you…and you didn’t know why. You hadn’t missed the slight curve of his lips when your eyes briefly met his before you left the crowd. Before… Before you just thought that he’d sunk to a new low, just being an asshole about what he did. Now though…
Now, you were sure that he was seeking you out.
…but you didn’t understand why.
After that God awful day at your house, you rarely left it. Any annoyance your mom still had over that abrupt departure, it had long faded the more you holed away in your room staring at your wall. There were only so many excuses you could make, only so many times you could say you just didn’t feel good before someone demanded you go see a doctor.
Out of excuses—and just wanting to ease everyone’s worry—you tagged along tonight…and now you regretted it.
You didn’t know how to go back out there and pretend like he wasn’t in the crowd—watching you, no doubt. You wouldn’t be able to relax for a second, too busy looking over your shoulder and avoiding Rafe Cameron at all costs. You pressed your hand to your mouth, struggling to breathe as you cried and telling yourself that you had to do something because if they weren’t already, your friends would be looking for you soon.
With difficulty, you pushed yourself to your feet, thankful the car was an older model whose alarm didn’t go off at any mere touch. You didn’t know what excuse you were going to give to Kiara who’d no doubt been informed by Cleo that you’d been gone for too long. You wiped your face, and you told yourself that if anyone questioned it, you’d just claim you’d had some bad food that made you sick.
“Cute dress.”
No other voice could shatter any amount of composure you’d built up like that one. It was like being doused in cold water, all train of thought lost and only able to focus on how freezing and miserable you were. You didn’t even attempt to convince yourself you’d imagined it this time because you knew without a doubt now that Rafe was going out of his way to torture you about that night.
When you finally looked over, the man in question was leaning against someone else’s car. He was sprawled against it like it was his, and upon closer inspection, you recognized it as Topper’s jeep. You wrapped your arms around yourself at the sight of him, and you wondered just how long he’d been there…watching you.
“Rough night?” he quietly wondered, eyes raking over your frame, and you shuddered under his scrutiny.
“Leave me alone, Rafe,” you breathed, moving to go back to the beach when he blocked your path.
You tried to get around him, but Rafe wasn’t having it.
“Woah, hey, I just want to talk,” he laughed, reaching out to you.
You stumbled back away from him, fearfully eyeing him. You weren’t quite as alone with him as you were before, but it was just enough for Rafe to do whatever he wanted should he find himself determined enough.
“What could I possibly want to talk about with you?” you breathed. “…and what could you possibly have to say to me?”
You continued before he could say anything.
“We both know you’re not sorry,” you choked out. “You’ve done nothing but make my life hell…and I don’t know why because you got what you wanted.”
Trying to get by him only resulted in him reaching for you again, and so you reached for your phone. Rafe’s hand followed yours, and so as soon as your hand was around your phone, his was around your hand, and the fight over the device was quick. Tears of anger kissed your eyes when he held it out of reach, and your breathing was heavy when he leaned in.
His nose touched yours, and in your efforts to back away, you backed right into the car.
His eyes flickered between yours, and the more you leaned back, the more Rafe followed until he was practically on top of you. He shifted, and you both felt and saw both of his hands come down on either side of you to rest on the vehicle, effectively caging you in. He was so close that you could faintly smell the cologne he put on before he left the house, and when his gaze lowered to your lips, your heart sank.
You pushed at his chest, but Rafe wasn’t budging.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to get you alone?” he murmured.
His words made you freeze, and your eyes widened.
“…and I guess that’s my fault,” he said with a shrug. “You’re always…in the house or…with your friends, now.”
He leaned in some more despite the pressure you put against his chest.
“You make it so difficult to get you by yourself, now,” he continued with a small smirk. “So, all I’ve been able to do is just dream about that night…instead of reliving it.”
His hand on your face had you jerking away, hands pushing against his chest as he leaned in to kiss you. You made a noise of protest, and Rafe only shushed you, lips grazing yours. One of his hands completely dug into your hip at your attempt to scoot back on the car.
“Relax,” he whispered in what was probably meant to be a soothing manner. “Just relax.”
One of his hands was behind your neck, the other kneading into your upper thigh when he kissed you. He swallowed any noise you attempted to make, and like before, Rafe didn’t seem to care that you didn’t want this.
“You should’ve told me you were a virgin before I fucked you,” he murmured against your lips, smiling into the kiss. “I would’ve been nicer about it.”
The reminder of the blood that night made more tears spill over, and you were in awe that Rafe saw that night as something to look back on with the idea of fun while it had completely turned your life upside down…but maybe that was the fun part for him. He had to know how much what he did affected you.
He wouldn’t stop kissing you—wouldn’t let you make a sound—and when the hand on your thigh settled itself on your back, you tripped over your feet when he pulled you away from the car. You could hear your phone going off wherever Rafe had abandoned it, and you had no doubt that all of your friends and Kiara were looking for you.
Unfortunately, Rafe was forcing you into the back of Topper’s jeep.
Your hand was on the opposite door handle as soon as you were inside the vehicle, but with one successful yank back, Rafe climbed over you and closed it. You heard the resounding click of the locks, and you pushed against the seat when you felt Rafe lips trailing along the side of your neck.
“I didn’t get what I wanted,” he whispered against your skin, making you tremble. “…because I still want it.”
Rafe had you completely pinned between him and the seat, and your struggle grew frantic when you felt how hard he was against the back of your thigh. One of Rafe’s hands snaked its way underneath you, circling around your throat as he left kisses along your skin. His other hand was trailing along your frame, and when it started to push at your dress, the hand around your neck tightened.
You could barely breathe properly now…let alone scream.
Rafe’s breathing was heavy, evident in the way his chest heaved against your back. It didn’t stop him from pulling your head back and kissing you though, all the while releasing himself, the sound of his zipper loud in the otherwise car. Your friends were long gone from your mind, now, with your only focus on how you were going to handle this again.
Tears kissed your face as you reached up to pull at Rafe’s hand, but his grip was tight, and your grip started to slip the moment you felt him press the head of his cock into you. Your toes curled, body going still as memories of the last time flashed behind your eyes. Your underwear pulled over his hand, his fist keeping them completely pushed to the side as he slowly pushed his way into you.
“Just like I remember,” he purred against your ear once he’d pushed his cock into you to the hilt.
His movements had you gripping the seat of Topper’s Jeep, your feet kicking back at the door. His thrusts were slow, reminiscent of the last time, but unlike now, Rafe had only slowed his pace then once he saw the faint blood on his cock. Now, you didn’t know if he’d meant what he said earlier about being gentler or if he was simply trying to savor it.
When his hand finally let your throat go, you greedily sucked in air, but your relief was short-lived when his whole arm found its way around your neck. You had no choice but to hold onto it as he snapped his hips against you, the slow plunge of his cock forcing a whine from you. Rafe’s forehead rested on the back of yours, and you could both feel and hear how much he was enjoying this.
“I almost didn’t want to leave that night,” he breathed, a gasp escaping when he curved his hips against you. “I could’ve fucked you all night.”
The inside of the Jeep was filled with the sound of your reluctant moans and Rafe’s heavy breathing and words. You could feel your body becoming lighter and lighter, and you knew it had nothing to do with Rafe’s arm around your neck. The feel of his thrusts became easier to bear, and like that night, you found your gaze focusing on the door…just as you’d done with the ceiling.
The knowledge that he hadn’t just been tormenting you but had been seeking you out for a reason left you feeling a little numb. The whole reason you hadn’t done a thing about it in the first place was because you just wanted to avoid Rafe Cameron at all costs. He was violent and terrifying, and those two things had scared you into simply scrubbing yourself raw that night before crying yourself to sleep. You thought that he’d gotten what he wanted and would leave you alone.
…but you never considered that it wasn’t about the sex or the power, at all.
It was about you in particular and the power he wanted over you, the gratification he wanted from you.
It was why he boldly acknowledged you knowing exactly how terrified you were of him. It was why Rafe dared to enter your home once again, knowing exactly what the sight of him in there would do to you. It was why he taunted you and challenged you to even dare to retaliate. You didn’t know if Rafe was just some bully who decided you were it, or perhaps something just a tad more sinister.
When he flipped you onto your back, he didn’t like the blank look in your eyes.
“Uh uh, look at me,” he softly demanded, lightly tapping your cheek. “Look right at me.”
When you refocused on his face, more tears spilled over, and you were sure Rafe liked the sight of them. He leaned down with a hand on your throat, your knees to your chest and your feet resting against his stomach as he leaned over you, stuffing you full of his cock. The sound of it sliding into you over and over again was loud in the vehicle.
Your eyes were on Rafe’s, and his blue gaze never left you, lips parting as he watched your face. He slowed his hips down, thrusting into you at a languid pace, and when you clenched around him, a slow smile danced along his lips—crooked and taunting. He studied your face like he was fascinated by it, and you were reminded of that night at the party.
He’d looked like the cat who caught the canary. In your own house, he’d reminded you of a wolf toying with some poor deer before putting it out of its misery when you looked back on it. Every time your eyes had met his in public—including now—Rafe looked like nothing would be more fun than taking you between his teeth.
As he continued to fuck you in the back of his best friend’s car, you had the realization that around Rafe Cameron, you very much felt like prey, and the man on top of you had long come to that same conclusion before you did.
…and he’d pounced the moment your back was turned.
streamer!jo is mid-stream, leaning back in his chair, one hand on his mouse, the other lazily resting on the desk. when the door opens, he doesn’t even look but instead plays.
“chat, if I clutch this, you all have to donate at least—”
you walk in and he immediately looks back. “hey,” he says, already smiling, voice softening without him realizing. “what’re you doing?” you’re holding something carefully in both hands, eyes bright. “I made something.”
gojo swivels his chair toward you, completely abandoning whatever he was doing. “lemme see.” you step closer and lift it proudly.
a full lego set. clean, detailed, and clearly not easy.
“I built it,” you say, a little proud, a little shy. gojo blinks then grins. “no way you did that by yourself.”
you gasp, offended. “i did! don’t start.”
the chat as usual, explodes.
pinkglossbaby: SHE DID THAT???
itadori.exe: nah that’s actually impressive
domainexpansionTHIS: gojo doubting already 💀
you turn toward the stream, holding it up carefully so the camera can see.
“do you guys like it?,” you question, reading some comments, “this was my first time and i had to follow the instructions exactly or it wouldn't align.”
gojo leans back, watching you instead of the screen, elbow on the armrest, chin in his hand, completely dazed
you keep going.
“and people think you can just skip steps—no. you cannot skip steps. because then the top layer won’t connect properly and everything collapses.”
cursedenergyLOL: SHE’S TEACHING US 😭
nanamisworkwife33: the tone shift is crazy
gojosblindfold: she said STRUCTURAL
satoru snorts softly, eyes flicking to chat, then back to you. “you hear yourself right now?”
you ignore him.
“and this part—” you point at the set, “this took the longest because the pieces are similar but not the same, so i had to pay extra attention.” you lean in a little closer to the camera, completely focused.
satorus hand comes to your waist automatically, just resting there, holding you in place. “guys,” he says lazily, “she didn’t let me help, by the way.” you turn your head, frowning. “because you would’ve messed it up.”
he gasps, offended. “i would not—”
“you would’ve skipped steps.”
limitlesscrybaby: CLOCKEDDD
sukunaIRL: yeah toru man ur cooked
tojiZenin: sounds like a skill issue
satoru narrows his eyes at the screen then he looks back at you, lips twitching into a grin. “it does look good though,” he admits, quieter and you brighten instantly.
“i know,” you say proudly.
he laughs under his breath, pulling you a little closer into his lap again like it’s second nature.
“yeah,” he murmurs, more to himself than anyone else. “you’re cute when you explain stuff.”
you blink, shying away behind the lego piece.
KingZenin_Naoya: down bad, could never be me.
cursedenergyLOL: don’t worry we know
gojoswifeREAL: THANK GOD
frankoceansgf: did this guy really make a new acc😭
tojisleftballsack: mute him already...
LimitlessGojo muted KingZenin_Naoya
LimitlessGojo banned KingZenin_Naoya
papa!kuna overhears your son's friends making comments about you and decides to remind them very quickly whose house they’re in.
the kitchen is warm with the quiet clatter of dishes and the soft hum of the refrigerator. sunlight spills through the window above the sink, lighting the counter where you’re slicing fruit and setting out small bowls.
from the living room comes the chaotic noise of a video game. shouting, laughing, the rapid clicking of controllers.
your son has friends over again. you lean slightly around the corner, raising your voice just enough to be heard over the tv.
“what do you guys want for lunch?”
“gyudon!” one of them calls instantly.
another groans. “not gyudon again, man.”
“burgers,” someone else says. “burgers would be good.”
your son sighs loudly. “anything but rice.”
you laugh under your breath and wipe your hands on a towel.
“okay. burgers it is. i need to grab a few things from the store though.” you slip your shoes on near the door. “i’ll be right back.”
a distracted chorus of “okay” and “yeah” follows you as you step outside and shut the door behind you.
the house settles into the background noise of the game. on the screen, characters run across a battlefield. one of the boys leans back against the couch and stretches his arms.
“your mom’s fine as fuck”
your son barely reacts at first, eyes still on the screen.
another boy snorts. “yeah, seriously.”
a third laughs quietly. “no wonder your dad is always on her.”
that gets a few chuckles.
“i mean, i get it,” one of them continues, glancing toward the kitchen even though you are gone. “if my wife looked and had a body like that i wouldn’t leave her alone either.”
your son’s character stops moving. the sound of the game continues but his controller slowly lowers in his hands. he turns his head.
“yo,” he says.
his voice is calm but tight around the edges.
“watch the way you’re talking about my mom.”
one of the boys shrugs. “what? it was a compliment.”
“it didn’t sound like one.”
the room grows quiet for a moment. then the front door opens. none of them notice at first. heavy footsteps move through the entryway. a tall figure stops at the edge of the living room.
“cut what out?”
the voice is deep. low. all four boys freeze. they turn their heads.
sukuna stands there, broad shoulders filling the doorway, one hand resting lazily against the frame. his expression is calm but his eyes are sharp in a way that makes the air feel suddenly heavier. “repeat it,” he says quietly.
no one speaks.
your son shifts uncomfortably. the other boys stare at the floor. sukuna’s gaze moves across them slowly.
“i asked a question.”
one of the boys finally mutters, “it was nothing, sir.”
sukuna steps into the room. each step is unhurried, controlled. “nothing,” he repeats. he stops beside the couch, looking down at them.
“i heard enough.”
his voice never rises, which somehow makes it worse.
“you’re in my house. sitting on my furniture. eating my food.” his eyes narrow slightly. “and you think it’s acceptable to talk about my wife like that?”
the boys shake their heads quickly.
“no, sir.”
sukuna studies them for a moment, then speaks again.
“let me make something very clear.” the room feels smaller.
“you don’t speak about women like that. not in my house. not anywhere if you have any sense in your heads.”
one of the boys swallows.
“she is my wife. she is the mother of my child.” sukuna’s gaze flicks briefly toward his son before returning to the others. “show some respect.”
“yes, sir.”
“understood?”
a chorus of nervous agreement fills the room. “yes mr. ryomen”
sukuna exhales slowly through his nose, irritation still clear in his expression. “good.”
right then the front door opens again.
“wait,” your voice calls from the entryway. “i forgot my wallet.” you step inside, already reaching for the counter where you left it. as you walk into the living room you notice the silence immediately. four boys sitting stiffly.
sukuna standing in front of them like a statue. you blink.
“what happened in here?”
your son looks like he wants to disappear into the couch. sukuna glances at you. the sharpness in his expression softens just slightly.
“nothing important,” he says.
you look between them again, suspicious but not pushing it. “...okay.”
you grab your wallet and head back toward the door. “i’ll actually be right back this time. don’t destroy the house while i’m gone.”
one of the boys practically salutes. “yes ma’am.” the door closes behind you. the boys slowly look back at sukuna. he is still staring at them.
Yandere Targ! Men to his sister not loving him romantically (separate)
Summary: They're in love with their sisters; it's a shame their sisters don't feel the same way at all, but when has that ever stopped them?
Pairing: Dark!Daemon Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Dark!Aemond Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Dark!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader, Dark!Viserys III Targaryen x Fem!Reader.
Warning: Incest (typical of the canon), sexual content, possessive attitudes, toxic relationships, forced kiss, forced marriage, attempted rape and rape (Viserys), infidelity, physical violence, abuse, mentions of murder, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of children, threats against babies, alcohol.
I've had this in drafts since January 29th of last year, I'm a mess :'b (I wanted to add Aegon II, Maegor, and Aerion but I got lazy)
I apologize for any spelling or grammatical errors; English isn't my first language and I'm very tired. Even so, I hope you like it, xoxo
Daemon Targaryen
Daemon and you had always been very close, you were born just a year after him, the small age difference along with the fact that you were both cunning and reckless brought you together a lot, even more than with your brother Viserys.
As you grew up you became closer and spent all the time you could together; you shared all the important moments together, you were each other's first everything, first kiss, first love, you two even lost your virginity together which made a feeling of entitlement and possession grow in your brother's heart.
Daemon even asked Queen Alysanne to marry you to him but she refused claiming that you two would be too much trouble together and instead engaged him to Lady Rhea Royce which infuriated Daemon to the core.
That same night he came to your chambers and asked you two to take your dragons and go together to Essos, but you rejected him telling him that although you loved him deeply it was not romantic, just like Viserys you loved Daemon as a brother even if you two shared intimate moments frequently.
Daemon let out a dry laugh at your words, so you only love him as a brother, huh? Well he's not going to accept that, fuck no. But he'll play it smart as always. He pretends that everything is fine and that he accepts what you said but in his mind he's already creating a plan for you to stay with him whether you like it or not.
When there was only a week left for Daemon to be forced to marry Rhea Royce, he came to your chambers with wine and proposed to toast with it for his last week as a free man; of course you accepted how could you not? You would never refuse to drink good wine and spend time with your handsome brother; As the alcohol took effect in your system you grew bolder and things between you and Daemon heated up pretty quickly.
Before you knew it you were already face down on the mattress with Daemon on top of you both stripped of their clothes as he fucked you from behind with vigor, one of his calloused hands placed firmly on your hip while the other painfully pulled at your white hair so similar to his own, the sound of wet slaps filling the room accompanied by your pitiful moans and Daemon's labored breathing.
“By the gods! What do you two think you're doing?!”
You turn your head when the door is suddenly opened by two royal guards and your grandmother Alysanne appears accompanied by some maids. The queen looks horrified and the maids cover their mouths in shock. You try to move away from Daemon but he pushes your head down, your cheek pressed into the mattress. He leans forward, still moving his hips, and you feel his hot breath on your ear.
“Where are you going, sister? Let them see when I put my child inside you. Romantic, don't you think?”
After that, everything happens in a blur: your grandparents' scolding and drinking moon tea. Despite the queen's best attempts to conceal what happened, the rumor spreads like wildfire. You end up having to marry Daemon to maintain your honor and avoid further dishonor. Daemon never stops smiling arrogantly; he thoroughly enjoys the marriage ceremony. He had made the right decision in bribing the maid to summon the queen and spread the rumor among the commoners. Now everything was in place.
Aemond Targaryen
It was no secret to anyone that Aemond had always felt a deep affection for you, his beloved older sister who always defended him from the cruel mockery of Aegon and his nephews; and comforted him when he felt sad for not having a dragon.
He had always been sweet to you, following you closely and going with you everywhere literally glued to your hip, but that didn't bother you, you just found it cute; but everything changed on the tragic night when he lost his eye and claimed Vhagar, the fact increased his confidence and gave him a delicious feeling of power; he was no longer inferior now he was also a dragon rider and not just any dragon, the greatest dragon.
When Aemond grew up he became someone much colder and reserved but his possessiveness with you had only increased to an exorbitant level, his terrifying aura scared away all your possible suitors since he always lurked around you which worried your mother Queen Alicent who disapproved of your brother's behavior.
Your mother, alarmed by Aemond's attitude, decided that the best thing would be to send you to Oldtown where you would be under the care of your maternal home, House Hightower; in addition to that you could spend time with your younger brother Daeron whom you had not seen for years, although you usually send letters from time to time.
When Aemond found out about your mother's plans he felt betrayed and a cold anger ran through him; he decided that it was his time to take charge of the situation, this is his time; it is time to take his destined place as king of the seven kingdoms with you at his side; His plan began during the ambush when he killed Rhaenys and attacked Aegon, leaving him gravely wounded and close to death.
When he returned to the Red Keep he announced the events to the shocked council; as expected they ended up choosing him as the new regent given Aegon's precarious condition; Aemond's first decision was to take you as his wife; your mother and the members of the council did not agree but he stood firm.
“Uhm, my duty now as regent is to produce an heir to solidify our claim on the throne since Jaehaerys is dead.”
“Eh... yes of course my prince regent... but it would be best if you and the princess married some lady and lord from other important houses... to have more allies in this war and-”
“And if we need more alliances Daeron and even Helaena can marry and if that doesn't work, then I will go to Vhagar myself to convince them; but I will not marry someone who would stain the blood of my children.”
Jacaerys Velaryon
Jacaerys couldn't understand why you didn't love him. He'd always thought you two were made for each other, simply perfect together. It broke his heart that you didn't think the same. The worst part was that it wasn't even because he was your brother or because you didn't find him attractive. No. It was because you were in love with another man, a pathetic nobleman from some random house who could never give you a life like the one you were used to.
You were too spoiled and unruly, too fiery. You need someone with dragon blood to tame you and keep you entertained, to keep up with you and make you happy. Furthermore, the man you chose wasn't the most faithful in the kingdom. Jace had seen the "love of your life" staring at her breasts and flirting with every woman who approached him. Every time Jace saw that, he clenched his fists tightly, his nails digging into his palms almost drawing blood, and he resisted the urge to hit him for having the audacity to look at other women when a goddess like you was by his side.
Patience is key. He had never been impulsive or hasty. He had to devise a plan to completely remove this man from your life and your heart, but first he let you spend time with him, let you fall deeply in love, so that his betrayal would enrage you even more, hurt you more, even though he hated seeing you sad or upset, you would run into his arms as soon as you felt that way, and he knew that your pride wouldn't allow you to forgive your "beloved" no matter how much you loved him.
One day, when he overheard them both talking about marriage and children, he knew it was time to act. He couldn't allow you to marry someone like that man, much less have his children. No, no. He went to the trouble of going to the Silk Streets and finding a prostitute to pretend to be a foreign noblewoman and seduce your beloved lover. His master plan unfolded perfectly during one of the banquets. The woman approached your lover and got him drunk. She took him out of the hall and led him to the agreed-upon room. Then he sent a maid to bring you to that room so you could witness him having sex with the woman
Your shock lasted only a second. Handmaids had to restrain you before you furiously approached the source of your anger, hurling all sorts of insults at them and swearing you would throw them both to your dragon to be devoured. They took you to your chambers before you could cause a bigger scene. When he went to see you, he found you crying, cursing your former lover and yourself. Jace couldn't bear to see you like this and came to you, enveloping you in a warm embrace and allowing you to cry on his chest while he gently stroked your hair and spoke to you softly.
“Shhh, don't cry, sweet sister. That man doesn't deserve your tears, much less your love and affection... he could never have loved you as you deserve.”
You pull away from him and look at him with teary eyes. He dries your tears with his thumb and leans in, gently kissing your lips. When you don't pull away, he takes it as approval. He puts his hand in your hair and tilts your head to deepen the kiss. His warm tongue explores the wet cavern of your mouth. His other hand travels to the back of your corset. His fingers pull the lace, loosening the knot and the bodice. He breaks the kiss. You both breathe heavily. His swollen lips travel to your neck, leaving wet kisses before moving up to murmur in your ear.
“I promise to make you the happiest woman in the seven kingdoms, you and our future children, just... don't ever push me away again, sweet sister.”
Viserys Targaryen
At first, you didn't mind spending time with your older brother Viserys. As children, he was charming and a good brother to you. But when you were forced to flee King's Landing, far from everything you knew, and with your mother's death, he began to change. He became more resentful, paranoid, and cruel.
As time passed, his hatred for the Lannisters and the Baratheons grew, as did his lust for power and his desire for the throne... and for you. Since you were children, Viserys had made it clear that you were his and that one day he would kill the traitorous pigs who betrayed his family, take the throne, and you would be by his side as his queen and wife, the mother of his children.
Viserys became jealous easily when your attention was given to others other than him. He had struck Daenerys countless times for "stealing" your attention and threatened to strike you as well when you tried to defend her. Even though the three of you had your own rooms in Pentos, he often insisted on sharing your bed. He liked to touch you without permission, though he never went very far thanks to Illyrio, who kept him in check. Although Viserys hated him, he couldn't risk offending his host; it infuriated him that you rejected his "love" and sought Illyrio's protection.
When Daenerys was betrothed to Khal Drogo with the promise of an army, you comforted your frightened younger sister and tried to convince Viserys not to do it, that Dany was just a child and that you would take her place if he wanted someone to marry Drogo. Your words only enraged him, and he slapped you so hard your lip split and you stumbled backward. He gripped your jaw tightly, forcing you to look into his furious eyes, his fingers digging painfully into your cheeks.
“You want to spread your legs so much for someone that you don't even care about doing it for a savage? If you have such a desire, sister, then I'll do it.”
Your brother grabbed your hair tightly, dragging you to the center of the room and pushing you onto the bed. You tried to escape, but he grabbed your ankle tightly, pulling you to the edge of the bed and roughly positioning himself between your legs. Your silky dress rode up your thighs because of the struggle. He held you tightly with one hand and with the other untied the drawstring of his pants. You swallowed hard when he freed his long, pale, erect member adorned with white hair at the base. That was one of the most painful nights of your life; you could never forget it even if you wanted to.
Shortly after that, your sister married Khal Drogo. You were forced to endure it and stay by your brother's side at all times. Viserys spent his time complaining about the "wildlings" who didn't respect him. You had to share a tent with him, bathe him, and be intimate with him. Even though Dany told you that you could have your own tent, you refused. You didn't want her to know what happened between you and Viserys; it was... shameful. Viserys had threatened to tell everyone if you didn't obey him.
In the end, you revealed the truth when the furious Viserys stormed into Khal Drogo's tent and threatened Dany and her unborn child. Even though your brother was an idiot, you didn't want him to die. When they restrained him, you ended up begging and pleading with them not to kill the father of your child. With Dany's help (thanks to her affection for you), the Khal decided to let Viserys go, but not before a beating. You had to tend to his wounds while he insulted and berated you.
“Damn savages, all of them! When I'm king, I'll have them all beheaded and their heads mounted on pikes for this! And you... how dare you beg another man?! When did I ask for your help?! You're lucky to have my child inside you... otherwise... I'd make you regret it.”
𓂃 𝜗℘ outlaw!toji always struggles to stay quiet while fucking you prone bone in your room.
“quiet, princess,” toji rasps against your ear, “y’r daddy’s room is right down the hall.”
he notches his fat tip at your pussy—stretching you open inch by torturous inch. your bed groans under his weight. he freezes halfway in, jaw clenched and every muscle locked. you whimper into his palm.
“fuck,” he breathes which is barely audible, “this damn bed of yours is gonna give us away.”
he tries to go slow to minimise noise. god, he tries. shallow rolls of his hips, barely rocking, keeping the old wooden frame from singing its betrayal. but you’re so tight and wet around him. the way your back arches just enough to push your ass higher makes his control fray. his free hand grips your hip, fingers digging bruises you’ll have to hide tomorrow.
the pace stays agonizingly measured at first—long drags that make your toes curl and your breath hitch against his calloused skin. every thrust threatens the creak. the headboard taps the wall once, soft as a heartbeat. he curses under his breath and stills again, buried to the hilt whilst his cock pulses inside you.
you clench around him on purpose, “mphh.. ‘ji—“
his hand tightens over your mouth in a silent warning. “oi, shush. . . fuckin’ brat.”
but toji can’t stop now. he drops his chest to your back, caging you completely, his heavy weight pinning you prone to the mattress. the new angle sinks his big cock in deeper.
“mmh!” you muffle a sob into the pillow. he starts moving again—slow and grinding rolls that drag every ridge along your wet insides without lifting off you. the bed protests in tiny, rhythmic squeaks he tries to smother with the rhythm of his breathing against your neck.
“gotta be good f’ me,” he smirks as his lips brush your ear. “can’t have the whole house know how pretty ya look stuffed full of this big, bad cock, hm?”
you’re trembling. your thighs are shaking and clit throbbing against the sheets with every slow grind. he shifts just enough to nudge that sweet spot inside you and you bite down on his palm to keep from crying out. he growls and finally gives in a fraction, hips snapping once and hard. the bedframe whines loud enough to make you both freeze.
he exhales through his nose, forehead pressed to your shoulder. “almost… shittttt, almost there. gonna fill you up so good, promise.”
one more sloppy thrust. then another. slow, punishing and possessive. his hand slips from your mouth to cradle the back of your neck instead, thumb stroking the pulse hammering there. it’s such a casual touch, and yet it makes you cum without warning.
“f! nghhh—“ you’re struggling to stay silent as your cunt clenches around him so tight he has to bite his own lip bloody to stay quiet.
he follows right after. he grinds in deep, spilling his sticky cum inside you with a choked groan. the bed creaks one last time as he collapses over you. both of you are panting, slick and trembling under the covers. he doesn’t pull out yet. as always. just presses a rough kiss to your temple.
“next time,” toji whispers, “i’m takin’ you to the barn. this bed’s gonna kill me before y’r old man ever gets the chance.”
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